Whilst out with my boys (by boys I mean sons. Not bosoms, although they were there too - obviously), I was approached by a photographer eager to take a picture of my small family in the double, life saving in New York, mountain buggy.
Our celebrity will reach far and wide. Well, it will amongst readers of the Hutt Monthly Business News. Yay. I feel like we've made it.
What a lot of talk about drugs and vomit. Anyone would think I'm watching High Times on TV3 (which by the way is brilliant).
I thought I'd do some updating on my many schemes in case you were all wondering.
All this vomit talk has reminded me of a drunken conversation that took place in my home not a million years ago. We were discussing all those LOL and ROTFL and DD and all that palaver, and came up with a new one. WITV. I think you'll find it useful in most on-line conversations, and I'm sure it will take off.
Eg. We must work harder on this car pool, or we'll be WITV.
Writhing in the vomit.
Dare you to use it, lets spread this puppy throughout the world.
Some time ago my small family and I were all hit with the vomity bug. It manisfested worst in the poor children who maintained the vomiting for over a week. Glen and I had one sorry night of it - unfortunately the same night. Glen was in our bed and I was in the lounge (knowing full well that being near someone vomity would make it all much much worse).
Well, I thought we had pretty much left that charming memory behind us. Until last night.
Last night I ended my frugal strive to buy no more takeaways, and we caved and went and got K Sing. K Sing is DELICIOUS. It is cheap as chips, and much more healthy. We can all be well fed for $10, and our usual order is a vege beef satay thing, rice and a couple of roties (or as we know it "number 18").
The thing I had not anticipated was the memories that my favourite takeaways would conjure up. That's right. We had K Sing the vomity night.
How can I forget? I had to go and lie on the couch after I ate last night to try and recover from the shadow of the last time.
I should add that there is no suggestion that it was K Sing that made us ill. I would never go back there if I thought that was the case, and I urge anyone in the vicinity to try their fine fare. They have dine in too.
My last post has lead me to ponder New Zealand comedy. New Zealand seems very good at drama, but have we (royal "we") ever actually produced something funny (that was intended to be funny). I know we produce good comedians, and good skits shows, and very good commercials (ladies, fancy a ride?).
Behind the Scenes of the Y was good, but not really a series as such. And Ice TV was frickin brilliant. Skitz used to make me laugh, it helped that it was local. I am straining to come up with a series. Help.
After all the drama of the last few days I've felt a bit anxious about writing something interesting. Lets face facts, all anyone wanted was pictures of the culprits, naked, snorting coke off each other, and I was never going to provide that - although if anyone is interested I could try a re-enactment?
Instead I'll give a quick rundown of my latest viewing and drinking habits.
Starting with the grog. Woolies had the Saints range on special for $9.95 - such a bargain. Unfortunately I didn't blog this in time, and they're $12.95 now. Still a bloody bargain. I have overcome my hatred of a certain wine company, so can happily consume their product again. I never really hated the whole of Montana, just the Wellington Sales Office - and to be fair, only a very small proportion of that. So I'm free to plug their product. We drank the Cab Sav last night while watching Ray, and crikey it was good shit. End of wine review (leave it to the experts I reckon).
Ray was a bit of a disappointment. The acting was great, the cinematography was great, but the script and editing were terrible. Such a shame really. It was a very chopped up little flick, and I guess the problem with depicting real people is you can't say everything because people will get grumpy. I did think it was quite cool how all the white people in the movie were FREAKING UGLY.
In My Fathers Den was everything. It was fantastic, and I was so relieved. Gorgeous gorgeous landscape, gorgeous actors. A totally confident New Zealand movie which we need every couple of years to help us forget Melody Rules.
And finally League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse. I saw this at the film festival. I watched the series on video recently (it was on TV1 a couple of years ago), and it rocked. I'm always nervous going to films with high expectations, so enjoyed a nice cocktail at Monsoon Poon pre-movie to calm my nerves. Ahhh. Cocktails. I needn't have worried. The movie was hilarious from go to whoa. It provided a few nice little catchphrases which I won't be able to share with anyone until they see the movie on DVD. If you have an opportunity hire the vids of the series and watch the movie when it comes out.
Until then, keep your fishy fingers off my communion wafers.
Here is another search that made me laugh. I think it helps that it is from Kuwait.
I know it isn't that interesting hearing about people's searches. However, do you think this punter found what they were after at Wanda Harland?
Like a scab, I can't leave this celebrity drug story alone.
Okay, there is all this concern that people who weren't involved in selling cocaine will get tarred with the same brush. Why don't we look into who it wasn't? Clear some names?
I can tell you that I, for one, didn't do a damn thing. And I think we can safely assume it wasn't Prince William, because the media didn't say "one young royal - who we can't name for legal reasons". I also imagine if it were any other famous sportspersons, the media would have said "3 former sports celebs" or something similar.
People, I want names of the innocent.
I'm not going to mention drugs or celebrities or boobs or being arrested or any other key search words (Auckland Cocaine Implants Hooters Cannabis Pokey Nipples Helen Clark Bollywood Dancing). Okay, I couldn't resist.
We had a terrific playdate today with Ms Jemsweb and her lovely whanau. It was my first cyber-date. To be fair and honest it wasn't a blind date as such. I spent a couple of years being young and going around with (nice term) Emily's brother. And as the world turns and is small and so on, Emily's son's godmother was half the audience at my wedding in Vegas. Does any of that make sense? Doesn't matter, suffice to say we're not strangers and we had a great visit.
I wasn't able to make coffees on the Cart-a-go-go as the weather was pus. Bring on summer.
Ever vigilent on checking the business pages, I noticed that for some inexplicable reason Charlies shares have taken a 33% price drop.
Curious.
I just got chicken and deleted my post about the drug bustees. Unfortunately I'm too fraidy-cat to post anything scandalous on my blog. I noticed on my stat counter that several searches have landed at Wanda Harland by plugging "Auckland drugs" and "celebrity drugs auckland".
How timely my shameless comment farming previous post was.
So there were all these naked bodies all with boobs and legs and feets and sexy bits.
And there was gyrating and humping and young Auckland girls getting naked (tastefully yes).
And Shane and Nerida were all over the show, you know, getting it on. And there were pokey pointy nipples, and naked people and cute arses, and Helen Clark. And there was mosaic tiling. And Petone lawns.
Okay. This started off trying to get people looking at www.gen.nz to check me out (it is so crucial to get that first paragraph right, and I never do) - but as it evolved I figured why not go for the googly searchers too?
Finn was in his room playing with his Thomas set. Malo was in the hallway playing with a bird, a lion, an inflatable hammer and a fire-engine - and being peripheral visioned by his very attentive mother sitting on the computer. When hurtling from the bedroom came Finn's toy basket (quite large) and walloped Malo.
At the speed of light I picked up my yelling youngest and demanded of Finn "what happened to Malo?". The reply - "I kicked the toy basket at him". Oh. Well. When someone is that honest it is quite hard to know what to say. What age do they start lying?
And yes, I've learned my lesson and will play on the floor with the children at all times. No more blogging. Never. Mmm.
I thought I'd do a bit of self googling, and sure enough there is nothing on me. I need to become a lot more famous obviously.
Of course I decided to look outside the square a little, and see what Wanda Harland has done for my fame. I plugged in Wanda Petone and almost had a heart attack. Weird how sometimes you think you've actually done something like marry someone with an extra "n" in their name, are really called Wanda, and have sold ones story on Linea weatherboards. But for a second I really did.
Must be time for a nap, or a drink. Mmm, a drink lying down. With a straw. Better make it a cocktail.
Last nights quiz was terrific fun. It was located in the fabulously retro styled Shandon Golf Club. I tell ya, those golfers know which side their bread is buttered. They've scored acres of gorgeous greenery next to the river in which to drink their shandies, and I reckon they're onto a good thing.
I was part of a fairly crack team of intellectual giants. A wonder really that we only came fourth. I suspect there was some rigging, I mean, who would really know how far it is from Hawera to New Plymouth? (Sorry Esther - you did know, and I'm a loser). On a more positive note I have found the value of being married to a scientist - by osmosis I've remembered the periodic table.
I think if you can get into these charitable affairs they're the way to go. It was $15, and there was masses of food, good questions, and a spectacularly reasonably priced raffle. Almost everyone won something, and they were very good prizes. I got a voucher to Palace Cafe (nice), a vase (very nice) and a couple of very dishy soaps (nice).
All credit to the ladies in the kitchen.
I have had two coffees. One latte and one trim latte. The trim latte was crap, I think basically once you get over trim milk, you're over it for life.
We went to the zoo. It was brilliant. One of the tigers was roaring its guts out, and a boy told Finn it would swallow him whole if he was in the cage, and explained that the tiger had got out once, but you could see where they'd sewn up the net. Finn seemed fairly nonplussed by this near eating, so that was all good.
After the zoo we stopped by Idiom Gallery in Cuba St. They have a great exhibition of men's art (ie. by males). All of it is the kind of cartoony art we can't seem to help ourselves collecting. Sam Broad, a friend of mine, has a few great tiki jumping jacks in it. Another old schoolmate, Turi Park, has some very splendid and moody large paintings. If I were someone with a spare $800 I would definitely go and get at least one of Gordon Crook's digital prints. They're bloody gorgeous.
I seem to have a new look. I was sick of my blog being all out of whack in IE (yes, I know I shouldn't care). Especially when I found this obscure thingy from my statcounter. It was in German, and a kindly comment, but I thought "surely this can be improved - I know - a new look!". Then I found that it doesn't remember your links. Dramarama. And it still looks like pus. If I was more patient I would've waited for the too big picture to just drop off the bottom. Or taken about 2 minutes to re-size the thing.
Oh well, the dots are gone. They were kind of frivolous anyway. I'm gonna have to add a picture or something to this page though, cos it is BORING. I even feel more boring.
I've written a really boring post on my new boring page.
"fo shizzle ma nizzle" is a bastardization of "fo' sheezy mah neezy" which is a bastardization of "for sure mah nigga" which is a bastdardization of "I concur with you whole heartedly my African american brother"
Thanks for this Karen. I'm ever so much more urban now.
I've got nothing to do this weekend. I'm pretty thrilled. This means I can go to Moore Wilsons, read the paper, make some coffees, perhaps go to the zoo weather permitting, wander, snooze, drink, eat, visit friends, visit art galleries, fold washing, wipe down the shelves in the fridge, get some new music...
I do have a quiz night tomorrow for the local Plunket. Friends have organised it, and I anticipate it will be a great night out. And I've got the afore-mentioned League of Gentlemen movie on Sunday.
I'm quite excited, what a nice weekend.
What are you all doing?
Hoorah. As part of the Wellington Film Festival they're screening The League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse.
We watched the tv series on video last year, and my word what a brilliant and fucked up show it is.
I'll be heading to the Embassy on Sunday night to see it. I can't wait can't wait can't wait.
Don't all go and buy tickets though before Megan gets ours!
Now, I'm not going to get all political on your arses. I'm pretty sure that is not what you come here for.
However, I cannot resist pointing out that this is an election year. And it appears to be a fairly vulnerable one for Labour. Which they have known for some time. Knowing full well how vulnerable they are this election year, if there was all this spare moolah in the kitty for tax cuts - wouldn't they have just given them?
In fact, everyone except rich people and the Opposition seem fairly well appraised of this fact, so I trust dear readers you will all endeavour to keep Don Brash well away from the seat of power.
Not to mention that Helen Clark is a total babe - check out the Australian Women's Weekly. I think she'll be grabbing a whole new demographic.
My Wu-Name is Masta Mathematics.
Take Wu-Tang Clan Name Generator today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Name Generator Generator.
Can someone please tell me when Bob the Builder and Wendy are finally going to get it on?
I hope you haven't all been getting complacent, because we still need a name.
I came up with Supercaffeinator this morning. I think it has a nice futuristic ring to it.
Any other ideas?
I succumbed! I bought some Ugg boots from the Warewhare today. They were only $15, and they're called Pamela (I imagine after Ms Anderson, but my mother is called Pamela too, so I think they're funny).
I've lived in the Hutt for three years now, and that is obviously how long it takes to totally drop ones standards and shelve ones pride.
I think I'd better head back there tomorrow and buy a Shakira CD.
My clever boy has turned 3 today. We had a lovely party with plenty of food and loads of coffees.
Finn scored big time in the presents department. Thanks all for making it a good one.
I found that party food is the best cure for a hangover. Although I'll never be hungover again. Never ever.
And London. Not much to add really, except that people are wankers. We all know it, and bombing some poor bastards on their way to work is just shit.
Yippeeeeee. TV4 is going to be screening John Safran vs God. We hired it from fatso, and it is the best darn thing I've seen for ages - maybe ever.
Anyone who watched the brilliant John Safran's Music Jamboree on TV1 will have some idea of what to expect. John Safran vs God is a documentary series of John's pursuit of religion. It is hard to tell how genuine John Safran is, but I look forward to being able to finally discuss it with people.
Some highlights are when he tries to join the KKK (John is Jewish), John taking peyote, John taking out a fatwah on Rove... all fab.
Go take a look at John's website and pleaaaaaaaase watch the series. They haven't said when it will screen, but should be soon. Or hire it. Fatso has 2 weeks free trial which is very blimmin cool.
Tonight we went to a disco at Finn's kindy. I was all prepared for embarrassing silences, polite pleasantries with the other parents, grouchy kids, the Wiggles played by the "DJ" - but you know what? It was a triumph. A fiesta. A carnival. The "DJ" turned out to be a bloody real DJ, complete with strobe lights, lasers, smoke machine, the Macarena, Footloose, Ghostbusters and more. Finn danced and danced. We ate lots of yummy cakes and burgers. They had mystery envelopes you could buy for $2, $5 and $10. With my first envelope I got double tickets to the Lighthouse Petone. So I kept on going. I got: 2 Dominoes pizzas with garlic bread and drink, dinner at 2 Petone restaurants, a carwash, a film for the camera, bath lotion, 2 Lollipops entries, a $5 Animalz voucher and a partridge in a pear tree. I'm well pleased.
I just wish they'd have these discos every week. Kid friendly, loud, lots of junk for the adults to eat and fruit for the kids. Only thing lacking really was a nice glass of wine in hand. I've joined the committee so I can make it happen.
Wanda Harland is Alan Hard Wand. Wanna share something halfpie?
And an anagram of Alan is. Well. This site isn't quite that pornographic yet. Although lets see how many hits I get now I've got the word pornographic in a post.
And my name is Armchair Tag. Now that is my kind of game. Or Cigar Hat Arm - which coincidentally an affliction I am afflicted with.
And my husband is A crib lent for sling. Sounds wicked.
Thanks Wordsmith.
I'm quite proud of this. It is a bit bubbly looking, but I reckon I can fix that. It tasted delicious, and that is what counts.
We had a lesson in the weekend, and have been practising madly since. I think we've got a way to go before we go public, but I reckon we're about twice as good as half the places out there - which isn't saying that much as there is some pretty shonky coffee being brewed in this world.
Still no name, still haven't set up our company (we're calling soon Brena! Have to think of the damn name first). We have got a towbar now though, as of today.
I have previously mentioned my fondness for Russ. Last night imagine my excitement when he was on Frontseat wearing a Toy Love tshirt - my uncle's band no less!
Can someone clever look at my other posts and tell me why they're looking insane? The cart and bear ones look fine in Firefox, but disastrous in IE. I need an editor - who can use html by preference. I'll give you my password and you can slip in devilish, subliminal messages. And correct my spelling.
For this task I will pay handsomely. At least half my salary is yours (until I start earning one).
Yes, I know I could work it out with a little patience, but here is a wee insight into my personality. I don't have patience. I am a very impulsive, impatient type of person. This is good for some things (like purchasing coffee carts, houses, art etc), but very crap for computing.
I don't know why flickr is hyperlinking thingy all my comments with photos. I'll fix it soon.
Right now I'm going to bed. Last night I had fever! Real fever with shuddering and raging heat. I never used to get sick. I think after this winter my immunity will be so good that I'll never suffer a cold again.
Ahh tranquility. Obviously a little more work is required (well, the house needs painting - which seems like surprisingly little after all that has been done).
Thanks to Paul Kitchenman for the pics.
