Monday, August 24, 2009


People ask me how many times I've been slimed. I cry every time I try to count. Here's the proof.

I forgot what dignity is. Lucky it is all in the past.

Thought for the Support

WHAT IS WITH THE SUPPORT BEING FAR BETTER THAN THE MAIN ACT?? This has happened the last two times I have seen a gig. The first, being Bertie Blackman, the second being Dappled Cities.

Don't get me wrong - I really like these acts. I wouldn't have bought the ticket if I didn't want to see them. But it just so happened that their support acts outshone them big time.

Who are these support acts?

Supporting Bertie Blackman at the Gaelic was Hungry Kids of Hungry.
Their music is just so god damn catchy! Think the Shins on happy pills mixed in with those boppy Beatles songs that make you incessantly tap your feet. The singer/guitarist can really bloody sing. And the keyboardist/singer could not only harmonise perfectly, but was so happy and into it that you wondered what he'd be like fathering your children. After the first 2 songs I found myself wandering over to the merch table to buy their EP. Which I did. Even though it was $10 for 4 songs. That's $2.50 a song. That's more expensive than iTunes. Which I figured out on the way home when the effects of their live performance wore off.
Before leaving I caught the guys watching Bertie from the back of the hall. They signed the EP I bought - so now it is priceless. I recommend listening to "Scattered Diamonds" which you can find on their myspace -

I thought that the support being better than the main was a rare thing. Didn't think it would happen again. Fast forward two weeks to the Dappled Cities gig at the Metro. I got there pretty early because I'd heard pretty good things about the support.
Who killed it this time? Their name - Philadelphia Grand Jury. I'd heard that they played at the Beach Rd a few weeks before and someone stole their guitar. VJ on Triple J put the word out for the person to return it. I really felt bad for these guys. I hope they got it back.
But back to their gig - these guys just KNOW how to perform. They are so entertaining. Their songs are up-beat, clever and way too hot to handle. Instead of milling at the bar, every punter stood front and centre to watch these guys. The bassist MC Bad Genius is exactly that - a freaking genius. His on-stage antics are frighteningly amusing. He'll stare at a member of the audience for minutes at a time for no particular reason. Not any kind of stare - a petrifying, evil injecting stare. He plays anything that is thrown at him - bass, keyboard, guitar. His dance moves are the moves of a champion. I couldn't copy them even if he taught me himself. The drummer (Dan W Sweat) is Gods gift to the women of the world. I am so helplessly in love with him. His drumming is off the chart. He bops his head like a bobble headed dog on the dashboard of your car - but in time to every beat he plays. He looks so happy doing it, like this is what he was born to do. And he's an absolute babe. There was one point during a song where they stopped playing, making the crowd believe the song was over. Except something wasn't right. Every member of the Philly jays were frozen. Hands midway in the air. Heads tilted on the side. Statuesque from the very last note they played. This lasted a little while - the crowd finally catching on that something was up. Turns out they had not finished the song, it was just an overextended pause with hilarity attached. Sigh. The best part about watching these guys is that you can instantly tell that it isn't a chore for them to play, it's an honour. They have so many quirky jokes but they aren't inside jokes, they involve the audience every time. You just have to be quick or smart enough to catch it. These guys could willingly steal my soul. Please check out their stuff so you can say you were into them before they made it big. I recommend 'I'm going to kill you'. You would have heard it on Triple J - they're flogging it.
But you can call them the Philly Jays.
And the drummer can call me whenever he wants.



Riddle me this!

Arkham Asylum.

You may have seen/read/heard of it as the psychiatric hospital in Gotham City. It houses the criminally insane villains such as the Joker, the Riddler, Bane, Poison Ivy, and if you read the comics instead of watching 90's movies, then Two Face is also there.
Scarecrow uses his infamous fear gas on his criminal clients to make them criminally insane. Escapes happen more times than Gotham City care to discuss.

Basically its the nut house you never want to be near. So what better game for Rocksteady Studios to release than Batman: Arkham Asylum for PS3, Xbox 360 and PC? Instead of being based around the movies, this one is based around the DC comics.

How freaky is the Joker? Makes me never want to laugh again.

Can't wait to play this one.

Monday, August 17, 2009



After the Fall are BACK!

Here is a pic of their new album.
This artwork is very different from their last albums (Always Forever Now had an old radio, their first album none at all).

This artwork is used on their first single called 'Desire'. It's also pimped out all over their updated myspace page. I wonder what inspired the use of all the animals? Namely all the owls. Maybe it represents wisdom? Maybe I should just ask them.

Call it evolution if you will. Call it a new direction. A new taste. A kooky feel. A darker side?

Whatever it may be, you can find out for yourself when the album comes out August 28.

La la laaa la la

Oh yep. Boy was this a good show.
Good work MTV for nailing what was going through every adolescents head at the time.
If it wasn't the annoying sibling who couldn't be any more different to you, it was the parents who would never understand you. It showed that best friends knew exactly what you were thinking without saying anything. It proved teachers lost it to the extent that eye balls would pop out of their heads. It portrayed multiculturalism. It milked cliches. It made you never want to be a cheerleader, or popular. It showed the other side. The real side.

Thanks Daria.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

pleased to meat you

Recently, many people are making changes to their diets for many different reasons. I've just cut out gluten after trying a diet without it and noticing plenty of positive differences. But many people are going vegetarian or vegan, for different reasons all together.

I'm not taking a dig. At 12 years of age I became a vegetarian, simply because I did not enjoy the taste of most meats. To this day the thought of eating (even smelling) any type of pig or seafood disgusts me. So as a growing kid, I asked Mum to cut it out of my diet. She was supportive of this (she still blames the movie 'Babe' for my decision even though it has nothing to do with it - i mean how many fish were harmed in that movie?) but told me I had to substitute the meats for other foods that would provide the same nutrients. This is how well vegetarianism went for me: see you later red meat - hello lentils and mushrooms. Uh oh - I hate mushrooms. How many freaking types of beans are there? Mum why can't you make them taste any good? I'm now anemic?! Geez. May as well eat meat again.

Now I slip in and out of eating meat. I guess I'm a three-quarter-arian because I only eat a few meat products. Hello lasagna. But I don't need or want it a lot of the time. It turns out beans freaking rock, its just my Mum was a shit house cook (seriously, ask her).
So that's my story. But what about the others?

The people that are vegetarian - nay - vegan for the greater good of animal welfare and existence? Power to them. There should be more. We should treat imported and exported livestock far better than we are. Caged hens make me sick, and good on Woolworths for phasing out caged hen eggs. I believe animals should live prosperous lives like we have, and it sucks that many are born to be food.
My issue is how can you not eat meat - or consume any animal by-product even - for all those reasons, yet wear leather boots, jackets or bags?

says the vegan:
"Oh I would NEVER drain the cows udder and drink its milk - but kill it and I'll wear it, sure."

Its hard to go from gorging on all the 'meaty goodness' to stripping it out of your life like that. Its hard to develop new beliefs at an age where you've lived your life through other beliefs.

But please, vego's and vegans. If you really care about these animals - don't wear them. Eating them is at least providing nutrients. Wearing them is purely vanity, luxury or both.

Or other advice - don't tell anyone about the decisions you've made about your diet. You're doing it for and no one else after all. As soon as you say "I'm no longer eating meat - I'm 100% vego now peeps!" I guarantee there's someone out there waiting to catch you out. If you're a vegan and claiming it, I'm more than sure everyone is punishing by eating copious amounts of cheese, tasty ice cream and delicious chocolate. And if you, for one weak moment, decide to indulge? Havoc! They'll chastise you. You'll feel guilty. Helping out animals isn't so fun after all.
BUT if you can commit to it 100% (food AND clothing) and ignore the pleas/jokes/sarcasm/tempts of your friends - then go for it with strength behind you. Conquer what you do, and shift or shape peoples view on it! We need people like you to raise awareness about the poor treatment of animals. We need someone to take a stand. To practice what they preach. If you do this, I'm very proud of you and envious of your discipline. Here's to making the world better for us, and the animals.

Check out to find out more about the poor treatment of animals.


When Maude takes over Mary Tyler Moore.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Shows that shaped my childhood

Play that ocarina


Any sort of gaming really. I was introduced to computer games by Dad when I was 7. I didn't really understand a lot of the themes, but picked up the game play quite quickly. In 1993 graphics weren't out of this world. But the game play quality definitely made up for it.

Games included:

- Hack

- Leisuresuit Larry: Looking for Love

- Golden Axe

- Wolfenstein

- Ghostbusters II

- countless other games that I can only remember fragments of (ancient roman empire game, car game with nitros, wheel of fortune game)

Looking back, it was funny to realise my favourite of all these games was Leisuresuit Larry. Essentially its about a guy who's middle-aged and balding, and really wants a root. You start the game dumped by your girlfriend, then you accidently win a perfect match contest, then the lotto, then you're being hunted by the KBG, you have to pretend to be a chick to escape them (if you dont get a body wax or put soaps in your bikini top you get sprung) etc etc all the while trying not to catch std's or be tied up by someone's mum who's into dominatrix. ODD!

My gaming evolved when I was 8-10 and spent a lot of time at vocational care during the holidays when Mum and Dad were both at work. Both my older brothers and I dominated the single SNES they had there. The other kids realised they could never be as good as us so never kicked us off. They just all gathered around and watched in awe.

Games included:

- Super Mario Bros

- Super Mario Bros 3

- Earthworm Jim

I can still play the first level of Mario Bros 3 with my eyes closed. Best part is you can download old school Nintendo games ONTO THE WII! So with a quick flip of my wii remote, I can still play it with the same graphics and soundtrack as the early 90's. Ahh bless.

From 9-12 Dad would work on weekends. This would have been quite dull, except for the part where Dads workers all had link up games on their computers. Each week one of us was allowed to bring a friend, and we would all play against each other for hours. Best Sunday afternoon fun.

Games include:

- Doom

- Duke Nukem 3D

- Heretic

This was the most revolutionary thing we'd done - I never knew link up existed. I always wanted to play co-op, because frankly my brothers were damn good at shoot 'em ups and I was sick of dying. Playing a lot and getting good came at a curse of course - I was on a date with my 3 week boyfriend in grade 11, and he suggested that we meet up with his mates at a gaming station to play counterstrike. He had no idea I could play, so I feigned dumbness when it came to gaming. "What button do I press to shoot? Who do I kill?" I beat not only him, but all his mates. By a lot. He dumped me.

The pivotal moment in my gaming career was when Dad brought home a Nintendo 64 when I was 11. Not only did I become the most popular girl at school, but I became addicted. This console allowed 4 players so no one ever missed out. It also meant holidays weren't spent at vocational care anymore, since all we did was play games all day long and persuaded the folks we could look after ourselves.

Games include:

- Mario Kart 64

- Zelda: Ocarina of Time

- NBA Hangtime

- Golden Eye

- Mario 64

- Diddy Kong Racing

- Lylat Wars

By far, the best game I have ever played is Zelda - Ocarina of Time. It will always be my favourite game. Every game I play, I compare it to this one. I think it proved to me that my favourite type of game is 1 player platform adventure. Sigh.

Because of the Nintendo, my family grew a loyalty to the brand like no other. We never bought a Playstation, and to this day still have never owned one.

From 14-20 technology was flowing. Our PC was faster and better than ever before, and many games were added to it. My brother also purchased a gamecube - which seemed like a good idea at the time

Games include:

- Age of Empires

- Heroes of Might and Magic

- Sims

- Super Smash Bros Melee

- Zelda: Windwaker

Then of course, another revolutionary gaming experience occurred when I was 19. Dad purchased World of Warcraft for PC, a massively multi-player online role playing game. I started up a character or two, and my life was over. It was a constant struggle between family member on who would play when. I had it during the day when Dad was at work, he had it at night. It is a game that eats your soul. I would easily play for 7 hours straight, forgetting to eat or live. I have played until 4am in the morning scared to let down the team I was in doing quest after quest. My brother bought a computer a set it up next to the first one so that 2 people could play at a time. I have since stopped playing, but my father has not. He has so many characters, many at maximum levels. He is God.

Now, at 23, live with my dog in a studio. I bought a Wii 2 years ago, and have recently acquired an Xbox 360.

Games include:

- Zelda: Twilight Princess

- Mario Galaxy

- Mario Party 8

- Star Wars: Forced Unleashed

- Wii Fit

- Guitar Hero: World Tour

- Oblivion

- Fable II

- Lost Odyssey

I'm finding it very difficult to finish a game. My attention span for these games weren't like they used to be. If I'm stuck, I'll turn it off and forget about a game for months. There is not one game I've completed. I prefer to play 2 player, I last longer this way. My goal now is to finish what I start. My fav game so far is Fable II, I adore everything about it. It isn't as good as Zelda: OoT, but its damn close.

Chic Geek


broken finger = UK press?

I've got 99 problems and a stitch ain't one

I'm a complete an utter douche. Sure, I'm using the word 'douche' because its my word of the month, but after what I did to myself last Saturday night I'll be a douche for life. A douche with a mother of a scar permanently etched into my left leg.

That Saturday was an epic day, to say the least. After my daily run with my gorgeous dog Bella (may those runs r.i.p) I got an impromptu message from my long lost and very loved friend Rhys who was planning to have lunch/dinner/both while he was up for the weekend staying with Tom. Half an hour later (each minute dedicated to mega cleaning) they were at my door. We were going to Luna Park. Why not? We got a sick crew together (Tom, Rhys, Chris, Bec, Jordan and myself) and we dominated every ride, slide and carnie snack the Sydney attraction threw at us. Ferris Wheels, Coney Island and that psychotic mouse trap roller coaster which actually takes a photo of you mid-ride. The second time we braved it, the challenge was to take the best pic. Bec won, she got her girls out. Pity they deleted the pic straight away and couldn't purchase it for reminiscing purposes!

To wind down from such a day, Tom decided to throw a last minute get-together at his place, with other fellow 'MMAS' contestants, Brooke and Hannah (who brought fiancé James). Mixed Vodka drinks were flowing during the incredibly entertaining game of 'Smart Ass' (which Bec dominated in!) and Twister (r.i.p those days also). James jumped on the piano to swoon us all with his melodic voice and perfected playing. Fast-forward a few hours and a few more laughs to the majority of us being in the lounge, where right in the centre of the room stood a glass table. I never really took a lot of notice of this table. It was just a piece of furniture. So of course, when walking past finding my foot caught on the leg of it, would I ever have thought it could have scarred both my leg and life in such a way.

I went down, and went down hard. The table collapsed with a deafening crash underneath me. Instead of the glass pebbling into tiny harmless pieces (which is what the glass table was supposed to do) it shattered in large shards. Realising the table had broken, I was horrifically embarrassed. Everyone saw me go down. Everyone knew I'd broken a piece of furniture. I had no idea how much the table cost, but couldn't believe I had been the one to destroy it with my clumsiness. I tried to roll myself over, and apologised profusely to anyone who would listen.

'I am so so sorry, I'm sorry, I'll get a new table, I'll replace it'. When I opened my eyes I saw every face looking at me, not a word being spoken. It felt like minutes had gone by but it would have only been a fracture of a second. Tom, in another room, came running in to see what had been broken. But when he saw me there on the ground, WHAT had been broken didn't matter any more. Just the WHO.

'DDDAAAADDD!' He called after his face turned the same colour of everyone else's in the room - white.

Bugga, I thought, it must have been a good table. Antique even. More apologies escaping my mouth. Then an onslaught of noise.

'Are you ok?'

'Quick get her up'

'Call an ambulance'

'We need bandages'

Hands were on me pulling me up. Everyone's face was filled with trepidation. That was when it came down on me hard just how severe things were. I was hurt, and badly. Tom's Dad ran into the room shouting orders. I apologised to him still, which he dismissed immediately. He organised a car to take and a towel to be laid down to stop blood going all over it. Chris came at me holding bandages . Rhys told me to look at him, not down. Under no circumstances was I to look down.

My throat tightened. My chest weighed 100kgs. My breath shortened. I was getting picked up and taken towards the car. Things were happening so fast at this stage, that I didn't know what to do or say, or where to look. I saw streaks of blood drying on my legs in front of me, but Chris' bloodied hands wrapped in bandages on my lower leg kept me from seeing the worst of it. But the sight of blood was all I needed to send me into shock.

I've never been in shock before. It's not fun, or nice. It's a feeling of absolute helplessness. I couldn't breathe, as much as I tried. I could hear myself hyperventilating. My teeth were chattering so fast and loud that I thought my jaw was going to break. I could feel the stream of tears running down my face. Everything around me was a blur. Or maybe that’s because Toms Dad was driving so fast. Chris sat next to me still compressing the gash, with my blood covering his hands so badly it made him look like a serial killer, yet still wearing a smile that said 'You might be ok?' I owe him so much, thanks to his reflex paramedic knowledge and quick action. Not to mention iron guts. He saw the wound at its worst. Rhys sat in the front holding my hand, telling me to look at him and to squeeze his hand. The teacher in him definitely took over that night, which I am forever grateful. Sure, I was still embarrassed that these gorgeous boys had to see me in such a pathetic state, but I would not have chosen any one else to be there with me. But as much good as Rhys was doing, it didn't stop me from passing out.

We pulled up to the hospital in record time and were met by ambulance officers. They wrapped up the wound quickly and placed me in a ward. Lying there, still in shock, I somehow managed to grow impatient and infuriated. My language became incredibly colourful and any poor bugger trying to go about their business in the drone-like hospital copped it from me. As soon as I saw someone, the insults came instantaneously. I let loose. I don't know if people usually do this when they're in shock but I did. I would formally like to apologise to anyone who worked in the hospital that night who was at the receiving end of my brutal verbal attack, including the male nurse with the dyed white hair who fleetingly walked past the room ('white head! David Bowie wannabe!') to the nice but stern nurse Bernie who told me to shut it when I asked what the *%$! was going on. I guess it didn't help that I had to wait hours until a) I knew how bad the damage was and b) got it all fixed up so I could get the hell out of there.

It was funny to watch the nurse's reaction to find out the answer for a). They were completely non-perplexed. They'd seen worse. Well that was a relief! Another relief was the two local anesthetics injected into either side of the wound to stop the sickly throbbing. My hands flew up over my face to cover anything my eyes dared tempted to see, and stayed there for the remainder of the saline solution rinse, the poking, the prodding, and then the operation where - yes - I felt the stitches going in. I felt every tug the needle and thread made. It was funny to realise just what I did and said to distract myself. Not only were my arms flung tightly over my eyes, but I spoke about the most random things. Firstly, I rambled amidst blubbering sobs about the best banana smoothies in Bondi, why they were so good and where one could purchase them. Then I moved on to the best restaurants to eat at (again in Bondi), and the ideal meals to order. I was stuck on the fact that the 4 cheese lasagna from North Bondi Italian was the best bloody lasagna out there - strewth. Every now and then a cry of pain screaming 'I CAN FEEL THAT! I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO FEEL THAT BUT I CAAANNN!' escaped my lips.

All the while, my eyes were tightly shut. No peeking.

Except once. I peeked. Dumb move, Maude. But I had to. Curiosity didn't just kill the cat in this circumstance, it ran over it repeatedly with a 4WD. I needed to know the extent of the damage that one mere table could do. To not try and be overly graphic, I'll just say that it looked like leg decided to throw up my calf muscle. I screamed and swore. I could not believe the sight that penetrated my eyes. I was a second from being restrained by the hospital staff.

That bad, then.

I had 2 x-rays, one to check that there was no glass residue, and the other to see if there was a fracture in my right foot. It was weird, the entire time that everything was crashing around me and getting rushed into a car and bandaged up, all I could focus on was the pain in my right foot. Not the left leg that was flapping open inches deep, but my normal looking, barely bruised right foot. It wasn't even broken! The worst of it was slight swelling and minimal bruising. My body has, in my eyes, officially lost it. My pain threshold has done a complete 180. A huge gash in my leg was a piece of cake, but a bump on my right foot sent me into a frenzy of pain. Go figure.

I was released from the hospital at 8am - 5 hours after getting there. I was wrapped in 2 white hospital blankets (you're never seeing those again I'm afraid) and was in a wheelchair getting pushed around by the ever present Chris, who not only stayed the entire operation listening to my dramatic nonsense, but watched the hideous surgery too. On ya mate, I'm incredibly grateful. By this stage I was dazed and beyond exhausted. I dreaded having to tell my parents what had happened. I dreaded facing anyone actually. What a scene I'd caused. 'Only Maude', they'd say. Ugh. Not looking forward to it. A well placed call to my dearest friend Tully who is traveling the other side of the world went down like a hot cup of tea. Just what I needed. Through chattering teeth I relayed the story, and received the appropriate oohs, ahhs and ughs. The next part is a blur. I remember going back to Toms - the scene of the incident. I slept. I apologised more times than I can remember. I managed to eat. I didn't stop shaking. I made the dire phone call to my parents (Mum, I’m ok, BUT…), who took it reasonably well. I was driven home, and looked after for a week straight.

During this time, I frequented the doctors who slapped a whole bunch of butterfly clips over my wound declaring all the while that if I managed to take a pic of the gash, I'd have won the $50 that Tracks Magazine rewards for the most gory pic. It was that bad. Thanks Doc. He also told me that the best plastic surgeon would not be able to make this scar disappear, and it would have the potential to intimidate Bikies. Ripper Doc, seriously, tell me more.

2 weeks later I got the stitches out. The wound healed nicely except a small area that had pretty much gotten infected. Again, thanks Doc. The best part is, the scar is in the shape of a perfect 7. Or L, depending on the angle you're looking at it.

'Hey kids, today's leg is brought to you by the letter L, and the number 7.


My new favourite number. Not a lucky number - oh no. But favourite, none the less.

Now I just need to work on my newly acquired fear of glass tables. What's the scientific name for that - glassophobia?