BAN THE BOOM BOOM

Who are the neanderthals that have proclaimed themselves the god's of music?? Why does everyone have to be punished with thier BOOM BOOM (Or bass as intelligent people know it )music??Has thier brain been so very damaged by the pulsating Boom Boom that they can't tell the difference between REAL music and a thud that is sooo loud it causes heart palpitations? Could it be the younger generation (MORONS) have come up with a way of getting rid of the oldies by causing heart failure on a massive scale??Is good music not good music when it is played at an intelligent level? It definately is NOT good music when the boom boom is played so loud it drowns out every other instrument. What is the point? Why not just hit themselves continually over thier empty little heads repeatedly and dance to the echo??

MORONS

The idiot that lives behind us waits until 7PM every night and then decides it's time to kill a few more brain cells by bassing himself to death. It aggravates me to the point where I want to go on a diet just so I can jump the fence and pull his ugly little ears off!!!!

And then of course we have the one cell animals (teenage boys) that society has to suffe,r that think it makes them look like men to drive at the speed of light while playing thier Boom Boom so frigging loud it vibrates every thing it passes on thier way to the city of stupidity !!!Everybody give a clap for the cretins

What these puny little wanna be's don't realise is that the rest of the population thinks they are DICKWADS !!!I want to form a oldie posse....round up the dickwad boom boom people who do not have a musical bone in thier underdeveloped bodies.....and tie them to a pole in the middle of a public square. Then said cretins would have to listen...at full blast...for 4 hours or until we break them......ABBA......BEETHOVEN......THE BAYCITY ROLLERS......HELEN REDDY and every other bit of music that will make them squirm with pain and cry for mercy.Anybody with me here.

THE MOTHER OF INVENTION

My mother has never had money but she always found a way to scratch by, even if it meant everybody else thought her a ideas were a bit errrr.......NUTS.She has also had to find different ways to keep a roof over our heads and sometimes that involved using a bit of inguenity and lying. Over the years she has opened many many bank accounts in every name imaginable so that she could get credit when she needed to. As a result of this she probably has about 5 different identities. When she dies we will have to buy 5 different burial plots and then figure out which one to put her in !!!!Talk about organised crime. We figure either she will end up in an old people's home or in geriatric lockdown in jail. It's a nightmare when we need to ring her at work, the phone rings, someone answers with "can I help you" and you realise you don't know who to ask for. And then there is the "walkabout" she does on a regular basis. While others frantically call the police when the older people in the family go missing we always know where to find her. Our search party need look no further than the local TAB, there she will be perched on a stool in front of a TV watching the horseraces and flicking through her mountian of tickets trying to see if she has won her first million.And let's talk about improvising shall we? Mum has always loved working in her garden when she is not betting on a horse. Years ago mum decided to dig up half the back yard because she just had to have a fish pond (the beginning of her pond empire) and then carefully lowering an old bathtub into the crater that she had created, then realising of course "we need fish".Now most people would go to a pet shop but not Ma Baker.....it was much easier to carry a plastic bag with her and knock off a few from front yards on her way home from work one night. This has become an obsession...we now have 4 ponds (at last count) and a population of fish and frogs to rival the Amazon.By far the biggest legacy my mother will leave me is to make sure you plan where to plant your trees. Let me explain. Don't ever think a tree is so very pretty you just have to have it, and then proceed to plop it into the first bit of dirt you see. There was a twig that took mum's fancy years ago, she planted it, it grew out instead of up, and now everytime I have to walk up the backyard it reaches over and tries to poke both my eyes out !!!!And then we have the wonderful palm tree that she planted right near the bottom step of the back verandah as a cute little clump. Why did she not realise that it would grow 20 feet tall and house evil bats. They sit in the murderous tree and use me as target practice with the nuts they pick off the top of the tree if I dare walk underneath it. "CHEEKY". And then the littlest sibling decided that because the murderous tree was now a very big problem she would help out by pouring a chemical strong enough to use in a nucleur war over the tree. Well done...it worked....but it is dying from the top down !!!!! I was nearly beheaded the other day by a falling branch big enought to cover up my very big self.The bat's are pissed off and the tree is trying to kill me !!!!So in rounding out this tribute to the many idenities that are my mother here are a few of her famous homemaking tips for you out there...Want a new sofa but money's short? No worries, just saw it in half and there you have it...two new chairs (yes she really did saw a lounge in half).Help out the wildlife. Take in a feral cat, love it to death...even if it rips the ankles out of the rest of the family ( we all bear the scars of her much loved pussy cat)Always have a roll of chicken wire handy. Need an attractive new fence? Get out the chicken wire.Need a new gate? Get out the chicken wire.Want a playpen for the kids? Chicken wire again.Yes life's an adventure with the "Einstien of home improvement". If ever I have my own home the fences will be made of wood and the back yard will be a sea of green........AND NOTHING ELSE.

GRUMPY OLD WOMEN

We have a program over here called grumpy old women. It’s basically celebrities having a bitch session about middle age and it’s very funny. Of course it’s a british show, they really know how to do these kind of shows better than anyone else. It’s great listening to someone with a really posh accent talking about really outrageous things, it seems to make it even funnier.Tonight’s episode had some very well known women talking about the physical effects of growing older and it was a relief to hear people talking about such personal things out loud.The first subject they tackled tonight was the bristles that suddenly appear on a woman’s chin seemingly overnight. You go to bed smooth and soft like a woman should be, and you wake up in the morning with fisherman’s wire attached to the bottom of your face!WHAT HAPPENED? I was so relieved to know it wasn’t just happening to me. I mean when you all of a sudden start growing a beard it can be quite unnerving. So what to do? Do I fight my son in the morning to be the first to have a shave? Should I just leave them and hope the sunlight doesn’t hit them? I never knew body hair could be so tough! I reckon they could hold the weight of a very large human and not snap.So the next subject they discussed was anger and mood swings. One of the ladies had me in hysterics. She was waiting at the bus stop with a line up of other would be passengers, and the bus was late. The later the bus was, the more angry she became until eventually she kicked the glass bus depot and then sat in the gutter and cried. The people around her backed away in terror and she missed the bus! I know how she feels. There are some days when I walk up the street and just want to hit someone because their ugly, others when I cry because their ugly! Mental I know but it keeps life interesting.And so on to next subject. Underwear. Granny undies to be precise. How great are these undies when you reach a certain age and everything needs to be gathered up and tucked in. Some of these ladies had tried thongs but the result was less than desirable. One thing I haven’t yet experienced in my life as yet is chaffing of the arsehole, but a couple of these women had, my god how I laughed. So their advice was get some control briefs and they put everything back where it’s supposed to be!Not pretty I know but after all, there is probably not going to be a lot lot of men rushing to tear your clothes off.And then came the subject that really cracked me up. Pubic hair, or lack of it. Here we have a world full of young women paying someone to rip the hair off their fannies (I’d rather give birth) and these women were saying how theirs is just dissappearing, and they want to know where it went!!! One woman said that she imagines when she goes to sleep it slowly creeps upwards and settles on her chin. That’s why the hair on our chin’s is so course, it’s really pubic hair. So does that mean if I sleep with my hand on my fanny every night I can stop the little buggers from escaping?And so the last subject was what they look like in the morning after being asleep for eight hours and all the loose flesh on their faces has settled overnight and they have to sit upright for an hour in a chair for it all to sink back into place. What happen’s overnight? I wake up in the morning and my eyes have disappeared, I look like a sharpei. I can’t go out in public until 10a.m. and my face has gone through it’s metamorphis and the skin has shrunken back to where it should be.And so, if you find one day you are bald where you never thought you would be, you kick the nieghbors little dog and then cry over it, you wake up looking worse than quasimodo and you need undies that reach up to your boobs and down to your knees so nothing falls out while you are walking, don’t sweat it, there are others like you out there and we are speaking out!

IT'S ABOUT TIME

Yesterday I went to watch my son perform in a show at one of the many clubs in sydney and he was of course BRILLIANT!!
There were three acts and he was the first performer, and after he was finished the next act was introduced and wheeled on stage. Ever watch someone so bad you would rather poke both your eyes out than be watching the show. When are the people that book the acts for these places going to give the younger entertainers a fair go and give them a decent amount of work! I have seen so many fantastic young performers over the last few years and they need to be seen. I know that the older entertainers need work as well but they have also had many years of work out of a small industry and its time to showcase some of the younger talent we have in this country.
Yes there is a healthy live scene in Sydney for bands and dj's but what about the kids that want to do cabaret ot theatre? Surely we cant go on losing them to other countries when they are so good. I think if people went along to some of the talent quests and saw whats out there they would be very surprised by the standard of some of these young people.
I don't believe for a minute that the big clubs cant afford to do something to promote these artists. They must be making a fortune from poker machines and they just keep hiring the same old 2nd rate acts that have been around forever. WHY?
Is there some old entertainers mafia we dont know about? They shouldn't treat audiences, even old people like idiots that will watch and enjoy any old crap that's put in front of them because they dont want to spend any of their pokie profits on getting a really good standard of shows in Australia going. Surely if they spent some of their dollars on tv advertising and promoted the hell out of these young people there would be an audience for the shows, after all people dont know how great these kids are if they dont see them!! So in closing I say, agents and clubs get your shit together and rejuvinate the industry. IT'S TIME.

PLUG YOURSELF IN

I think my most cherished possesion would have to be my mp3 player. Last week I had to do a lot of walking and so I put some new songs on my player and away I went. I got up, got dressed and plugged myself in to my music. What joy I feel when the music invades my head. I started out strutting along to the drums of Cloudbusting by Kate Bush who is always a revelation to me. Then the song finished and the smooth sounds of Marving Gaye and "Let's Get it On" crooned through my body, as I slowed from a fast march and found myself gliding along and soothed by his voice. I always feel like the notes are dancing through me when I block out the world and plug my ears in to my wonderful music. It's my release from the world when it gets to harsh. And so I continue along and the beautiful, beautiful song "This House is Empty Now" by Elvis Costello and Burt Bacarach fills my ears, if you have never heard this album "Painted From Memory" you need to. It is one of the best albums I have ever heard, two genuises together. The next selection is just for fun, "Spirit In the Sky" and I have to stop myself from singing and dancing in the street with strangers all around me. Oh how I would love to just sing out loud and break into a mad dance just to see the looks on thier faces, but I just speed up my steps and move my head in time to the beat and keep my enjoyment my little secret. I near my destination and I slow down because I don't want to turn my little happy machine off. I would rather spend my day lost in these wonderful sounds that sink into my bones than listen to the bullshit people want to throw at me in some meaningless conversation. And so I enjoy one last song before returning to the real world, what should I listen to out of my songs? I choose the bluesy voice of Joe Cocker, I love the voice and I just love his old stuff, Darling be Home Soon, Feeling Alright, Deta Lady, I Stand in Wonder !!
I can never understand people who don't just love music, any kind of music, I just don't get them at all. To me it's as essential as food or air. So if you haven't got an Ipod or MP3 player get one now and plug yourself in to the music, you will get so much enjoyment out of it.

ENOUGH !!!

Every day I open a newspaper and am riddled with guilt. Every night I watch the news and some more guilt and shame is hammered upon me. Why you ask? Because according to the government, the fashion police, the do gooders, interfering state politicians and nearly everybody else that thinks they are a shining example to the rest of us ignorant people we are destroying ourselves with food, smoking, drinking and everything else that they can think of.
Now I am not totally stupid and neither are the rest of the population, but I am bloody sick of people telling me how to live. It has gone too far in my opinion. In fact I am at the stage now where I have regressed to my rebellious teenage years, and the more they hark at me like I am some disgusting child who needs a good talking down to, the more I will go the other way just out of spite !! I don't want to be some 80 year old nanna with a shiny complexion and running around the block in beige lycra. Do you hear me you bunch of big brother's?
We have all gone mad, what is a life if not to be lived? Peanut Butter might give me cancer but I like it !! If I duck into a quite corner away from everyone outside to smoke a cigarette (and I know this will horrify all you paragons of perfection, but I like smoking) unless I am blowing it in your face, mind your own bloody business. And before you say I am harming you, think about the hundreds of cars that are going past you with their fumes as you watch me in disgust. I know how harmful smoking is and I get all the messages, but I haven't got leprosy and I am sick of being treated worse than a pedophile. I also get the argument about how much we cost the health system, but was outraged the other day when some goose suggested smokers should just be denied medical treatment or be put right at the bottom of every waiting list in the land if they are sick. Well now, listen to this you bunch of righteous soap boxers, have you taken any notice of the tax smokers pay on every packet of cigarettes. If you add it up over twenty or thirty years we have just about paid for our medical treatment out of our own pockets anyway ! When the rest of the community get ill you don't hear us saying don't treat them they don't deserve it !!
As for drinking alcohol, I agree it is a massive problem. But it was always going to lead our younger people down the road they are on now. What do people expect when we have a yobbo mentality that has been passed down by us, you have to get pissed to be an Aussie.
At a certain age drinking is a choice people make, you can either drink and be responsible or drink to excess and behave like an animal and look like an idiot, but it is a choice.
As for being overweight and controlling our diets, butt out!! I also agree it is a problem and there are a lot of overweight people including me, but it sounds so bloody boring being super healthy I think I will go and have a piece of chocolate.
We must not go in the sun in case we wrinkle to early, if you feel sad sometimes, surely you are suffering depression ( I am not in any way making fun of people who really suffer depression), don't put salt on your food even if it tastes like a boot, only select a couple of friends to have the occasional talk to on your mobile just in case you develop a tumour, everything you cook should be boiled and white, don't wear high heels because they might put your back out, make sure teacher's, policeman and every other figure of authority in our lives is not allowed to shout at us in case they hurt our feelings !!! GO AWAY.
It is all starting to seem a bit sinister to me, why do people want total control over everything we do? Are our lives not our lives any more? Has George Orwell's Big Brother come true? You might think I am an idiot, but I have lived for half a century and if only I could take you back to the freedom we had growing up. All these rules that are good for us are destroying us.
There is a great show on the ABC I watch called Grumpy Old Men. One episode I recently watched was British celebrities talking about how ridiculous Britain has become because of all the rules controlling everyone's lives and how insidious these rules and regulations are. One of the grumpy old men they interviewed was Rick Wakeman who is very funny, and the last comment he made before the show finished was "when I wake up in the morning I sit by the phone and wait for the government to ring and tell me what time I can have my first shit of the day".
I think as a society we do need to be informed, educated (a must) and taught lessons from our past mistakes, but there has to be a happy medium, at the moment people just shove their opinions down our throats and we are expected to behave like good little children.
Well not me buddy, I am walking away to live my life the way I want, even if it's not for very long. And if you watch me close enough as I walk away to live my life, you will see two fingers in the air saying "UP YOURS"

DAMIEN THE OMEN RAT

Have you ever had one of your greatest fears come true? Well I did this weekend and I am proud to say I have survived. My cousin, her husband and I decided to go along and see my son perform in one of his shows, so we preened ourselves (because of course, everyone in the place would be looking at us) and prepared for a night out. As well as going to see one of the greatest singers in the country (my boy) entertain everyone, I was looking forward to seeing the stunned expressions on people's faces when I dazzled them with my new hairstyle. Of course I knew how great I looked but I needed to share it with everbody else.
As we all left the house and headed out through the garage her lovely hubby turned to me and says "the light in here is not working and watch out for the rat". THE RAT.
Oh my god, panic set in and I started to sweat, my nerve endings felt like they were on fire and I heard my brain saying to me in a loud voice "Run for your life". One of my biggest fears are these creatures of the devil, these furry little animals from the depths of hell.
The lovely hubby then starts to giggle devishly and informs me he is having a joke, that there was a rat but being the he-man that he is, the rat has been disposed of. Oh the relief, I could stop holding my breath, and nightmare visions of the evil rat eating my feet as I tiptoed across the dark garage slowly disappeared. And so we all climb in the car with hubby in the back seat where hubbies belong and merrily go on our way.
The show is fantastic and after I have dazzled everyone with my golden locks and flawless face it is time to put hubby in the back seat and go home. We all sit and chat for a while over coffee when we arrive home and after a while cousin and lovely hubby retire upstairs to their marital bed and I settle down with the laptop to write illuminating stuff on my space and send messages to my friends around the globe, AND THEN............I see something out of the corner of my pretty blue eyes !! Ir can't be true.........I can't bear to look but I know I have to, IT'S MY NIGHTMARE COME TRUE...............the evil one is here in my presence and he is gazing at me with hungry eyes, it's a rat !!!!!!
Cousin and lovely hubby are sound asleep, there is no one to save me, what am I to do? I jump on the chair quicker than an olympic pole vaulter and try to scream, but no sound comes out. The evil one disappears underneath the lounge and I cover my eyes in terror, then I jump off the chair and run faster than I have run in twenty years and hide myself in the toilet. I know I can't stay in here all night, I do consider making myself comfortable on the toilet seat for the night but it's bloody cold and I don't want cousin or lovely hubby to find me frozen and terrified on their good porcelain first thing in the morning. And so I weigh up my options, I can't stay in here so I run back to the chair and stand on it in utter fear while scanning the room for the furry one. I can't see him. Is he in hiding waiting for me to turn my back and then he will launch himself at me and chew on my ankles? All of a sudden I have a realisation, the door to the guest bedroom is open and Damien the Omen rat might be in there. By this time it's 2 on the morning and I am very tired, but do I brave the bedroom and try and get some sleep, NO I do not. I sit on that chair for the next three hours to bloody terrified to move !! Do you believe it? By three thirty in the morning my backside is in agony, I am certain I am going to develop variciose veins in my bum because the blood supply has been cut off. I keep nodding off in between talking to myself, every five minutes I find myself muttering "I am going to have a heart attack"
After four hours of panic attacks and numb bum I finally give in to exhaustion and brave the bedroom, but before I go to sleep I say my prayers and stuff anyrhing within reach underneath the door because I know that Damien The Omen rat is out there looking for fresh meat. When I finally awaken at one thirty in the afternoon the next day and face cousin and the lovely hubby they look at me with concern, apparentley they thought I might be dead because I hadn't awoken earloer and blessed them with my presence. When I tell them why there are clothes stuffed underneath their guestroom door and why I have arisen half way through the day they find it very amusing. I am so glad I have brightened up their day !! But I am very impressed with my valour, I braved a night of terror and survived. Yes folks I have lived to tell the tale of Damian The Omen Rat and with any luck the ratsack that has been served to him for his last meal will do it's work and he will return to the depth's of hell from whence he came.