Pants on fire

Mon ami Ashura666 is in town and we’ve been having a jolly good time exploring Auckland and beyond. People have been asking how it was that I came to meet Ashura666, or Ashura-san as we call him sometimes. In fact, it wasn’t until today when Emma from Sydney, who was part of a hen’s party, asked that I realised I had never told the story of how I and Ashura-san had met.

See, it was long ago, 1998, when I was on holiday in Rotterdam. I’d always wanted to visit the Netherlands and had been fortunate enough to get some work on a commercial liner heading from San Francisco to Rotterdam. After overcoming severe seasickness, I had become a valued member of the Statandam’s crew, or krew, as we fondly called ourselves.

The boat eventually docked in Rotterdam and after I said goodbye to my new friends, I found myself alone and friendless in a strange land. One lonely afternoon, I found myself wandering the city, in search of something, someone.

I stumbled across a cirus, Het Grote Vrolijke Circus van Nederland. It was almost showtime, so I bought a ticket, and tried to find a seat. The circus was a popular family pastime for the people of Rotterdam, so it was pretty full. After much searching, I finally found a seat next to a miserable looking fellow.

Over my time on the Satandam, I hadn’t spoken any English, instead speaking a pidgin hybrid of Dutch, Portuguese and Polish, which seemed to be the best means of communication for the multinational krew members. So imagine my surprise when my miserable seat companion spoke English.

It turned out that Ashura-san was an English cultural attache from England on diplomatic business in Rotterdam. He was attending het circus in order to get a good idea of the local culture of Rotterdam. We started talking and then realised that neither of us really wanted to be at the circus and actually wanted to go to the pub, so we left and got pissed.

Since then, we have remained steadfast amigos, and we have visited each other in whatever country the other had been resident at the time. 2000’s surprise weekend in the United Arab Emirates was great, as was 2004’s vacation in Washington State, but it’s great to finally be able to show Ashura-san around my sweet home of Auckland.

The good doctor

I woke up on my bathroom floor. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was an ant crawling over an empty toilet roll. The last thing I remembered was taking my fifteenth tab of acid during the elimination section of “Miss Popularity” (Who got kicked out? Was it An-Ya?).

Scribblings in my notebook suggest that at sometime on Monday I briefly visited Gore, but this does not explain the receipt for Shell Pukete in Hamilton showing a purchase of a mince and cheese pie and Mountain Dew at 3.49am on Sunday morning. Nor does it explain the apparent shopping list written in my notebook in someone else’s handwriting – toilet paper, yes; dog food, no.

I consulted my next-door neighbour, Marvin the Psychic. He knows things, so I thought maybe he’d be able to shed some light on what happened to me over the last few days.

“Yo, Marvin,” I flirtatiously purred, “What’s up? What happened to me?”

“Oh, baby,” he said, putting his hookah down. “Ain’t you heard the news? Hunter S Thompson, he be dead.”

Wiping a solitary tear from my mascara-streaked eye, I looked up on the wall behind Marvin and saw a framed piece of embroidery. Marvin took the embroidery down and handed it to me along with a 40oz of malt liquor. The simple cross-stitch read:

“I’ve always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it’s a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don’t do much giggling.” ~ Hunter S Thompson, 1937 – 2005.

Justine and the bountiful feast of the gods of light entertainment

As soon as it was discovered that the nation’s hottest youth television presenters and the nation’s hottest young soap stars were rehearsing their formation dancing in the caff, Justine suddenly realised that she needed a cup of tea.

Quickly sculling back the Diet Coke that remained in her cup, she made her way down to the caff and made a cup of tea. She took extra care to rinse out her cup, put a teabag in, put in some hot water, squeeze the teabag, take the teabag out, open the fridge, pour in some milk, stir the tea, and put the milk back in the fridge.

While she was doing this, she just happened to notice the aforementioned hot young talent as they rehearsed. Justine noted that if they were to go back in time to 1990 and audition for Janet Jackson’s “Rhythm Nation” dance troupe, they sadly would not end up jetting around the world, stomping along to “Miss You Much”.

Justine noticed that a few of the hot young talentos were hanging around a table laden with food. That girl, the one with the phone sex voice, the one who doesn’t look at as fat as she does on that TV show, was heard to comment that the chicken wings were excellent and everyone just had to try them.

Several hours and a couple of more cups of tea later, one of Justine’s co-workers excitedly announced that the dancers were leaving and would soon be doing it for the kids on the high street. This meant, she explained, that they could go to the caff and help themselves to the leftovers from the hot young talent’s lunch table.

Upon examination, Justine discovered the table was almost still full of food. Sandwiches, sausage rolls, mince savouries, sushi, fruit, fruity drinks and a huge plate of pastries did abound. The only food that was all gone was the plate of chicken wings. Justine wondered if, being hot young talent, they had all been doing Atkins or perhaps just not eating. Or maybe they just were really excellent chicken wings.

Justine loaded up a couple of paper plates with the carbolicious delights, thanked the gods of light entertainment, and returned to her desk.

The Lady in the Second-Hand Shop and the Man Who Looks Like the Guy from that Garden Show

A One-Act Play

The play is set in a second-hand shop in a small New Zealand coastal town. It’s a long weekend, so the town is full of visitors. One such visitor is MAN. He has come into the second-hand shop and has spotted an item he wishes to purchase (a driftwood sculpture clock, if you must know). He is attempting to negotiate a price with the shop LADY, but first he must run the gauntlet of conversation with her.

MAN: Hey, um, how much would that driftwood clock be?

LADY: Oh, that’s a nice one.

MAN: Yes, I like it.

LADY: Hey, you remind me of someone.

MAN: Oh yeah?

LADY: Who is it?

MAN: I dunno.

LADY: Oh, it’s that fulla from that TV show.

MAN: Well, I’m not on a TV show.

LADY: Jim! That Jim who’s on that TV show where they fix up people’s gardens.

MAN: Oh, really? I don’t think I’ve seen that one.

LADY: Now, what’s his last name?

MAN: I dunno.

LADY: He’s married to that Mary lady.

MAN: Well, I’m married to Sharon, so it’s not me.

LADY: Oh well. I just thought you might have known.

MAN: Nope.

LADY: We get all sorts of famous people in here. A couple of weeks ago we had that, ah, that Dom – Dom from New Zealand Idol.

MAN: Oh, is he the runner-up?

LADY: No, no, Dominic. He was the compere. He was in here.

MAN: That runner-up – he’s doing quite well.

LADY: Oh chroo, chroo.

MAN: Yeah, I was surprised he didn’t win.

LADY: Now, is he a Maori or an Islander?

MAN: Ah…

LADY: I saw him on TV, but he hasn’t been in here.

MAN: So, how much did you say that clock was?

LADY: Oh, that’s not for sale.

FIN

A decade of body piercing – 1994 to 2004

Celebrating a decade of body piercing in popular culture, as told in six semi-fictional vignettes.

It’s ok. We’ll use an anaesthetic.

28 May 1994

When the guy writing the article for the university student magazine asked Ian what his biggest fear was, Ian said it was, “that the American corporate death burger culture that is slowly spreading like a cancer all around the world will eventually eat away the core of our culture and existence.” But now that he’s had a good think about it, Ian has realised that his biggest fear is that he’ll end up being just like his father. He thought that being the president of the campus vegan society was a step in the opposite direction of his father’s world of corporate oppression, but yesterday he found himself telling Charlotte that he didn’t think it was appropriate for her to have named her pet rat Sammy, because being a black rat, it could be considered that Sammy was short for Sambo, and therefore would be racist. But later Ian wondered if maybe it was true that Charlotte just liked Sammy because it was a cute name. Ian knew that he had to take a step away from being an aggressive oppressor. So this afternoon he visited Mel and got her to pierce his eyebrow. Yeah, it’s time to say a great big “fuck you” to corporate oppression.

3 October 1996

Things are going to change. It’s time to re-write the rules. It’s time to introduce a new post-feminist definition of beauty and sexy. Jessica realised that wearing baggy jeans, flannel shirts and Doc Martens boots hadn’t exactly made her very appealing. So now it was time to reinvent herself. Pink made her puke, so she brought in some black. She had a black fishnet top that would, she hoped, show off her strong female power (i.e. midriff), but at the same time not make her look like a slut. In an attempt to further distance herself from the traditional phallo-centric definitions of female beauty, she had had her belly button pierced. A surgical stainless steel bar ran through the skin above her navel, demonstrating, she hoped, that while she was showing off lots of skin, she was not a weak, passive, stereotypical girly girl.

12 August 1999

No one will ever know. No one will ever know. It’ll be so cool. Roy had it all worked out – and, he wondered, why hadn’t he had this done earlier? On Monday at work it would be so good. He would be sitting there in a meeting and no one would ever know that under his three-piece suit were two pierced nipples. He would be in meetings discussing client cases with the senior partners and no one would ever know, know one would ever suspect that his nipples were pierced. No one would ever suspect that he was gay. Eventually, of course, he would show them off. Maybe he could go to that beach in Bali he’d heard about, or the next time he was in Sydney he could walk around with a tight t-shirt on. But until then it would just be his little secret. No one would ever, ever know.

14 February 2000

The last six months had been really hard, but Michelle was determined that things would be different in the new millennium. Her mum had broken up with her partner, Michelle had been made redundant from her job and had a new one she didn’t enjoy as much, her car had broken down and would cost too much to repair, and her dog Sheeba had to be put down. But things weren’t all that bad. Her partner Gavin had been very supportive throughout it all. As a special Valentine’s Day gift, Gavin and Michelle had given each other the gift of mutual eyebrow piercings. “Whenever I look at you I see your eyebrow piercing and it reminds me of how much I love you,” Michelle said to Gavin. “Same here,” he replied. Michelle wasn’t too sure if she would be allowed to have the piercing when netball season started, but it would probably be healed by then so she could probably take it out. Probably.

2 March 2002

It was something Karen had always wanted to have done. She heard it increased sensitivity. Not that she had insensitive nipples, or anything, but, you know, if it increased sensitivity then that would be quite good. Karen and her best mate Louise had been in town one day when Louise spied a piercing parlour. “Do you wanna get your tit pierced? Go on, Kaz. I’ll shout ya. Girls’ day out.” Louise went first and even though she swore when it went in, she said it didn’t really hurt. When Karen had hers done she felt a sharp jolt of pain shoot through her arm. The piercer told her that was normal and it would soon stop hurting. A week later Karen noticed pus coming out of the piercing. It was red and tender. It hurt to wear a bra. The piercer said it was normal and it would soon stop hurting. Lousie said hers wasn’t sore at all. Karen noticed that her left boob had now swelled bigger than her right one. The doctor said that the piercing had hit a nerve and had caused an infection. After the course of antibiotics, the swelling and the pain had gone and the skin had healed. But Karen noticed that she no longer felt any sensitivity in her left nipple.

9 June 2004

When Trudie gets to her goal weight she’s going to get her belly button pierced. Three years ago, after her youngest was born, she realised that she was now almost 30 kilograms heavier than she had been on her wedding day. Since then she’s been working hard to get her old body back. She’s about 8 kilograms away from her goal weight and she has been for about the last year. Trudie noticed that the skin on her tummy is a big saggy now. When she’s lying down and pushes it, it doesn’t spring back. But there is that operation that fixes that, isn’t there. She saw it on TV and it seemed easy enough. As an incentive she has already bought a belly button bar. A jeweller at the mall was having a sale and she found this one made from gold and with a real diamond in it for only $99, which is a really good bargain. It’ll be a long, hard journey, but once she’s got there her husband Pete has promised that they’ll go somewhere on holiday where she can wear a bikini and show off her body and new bellybutton piercing.

Whippit, Agnetha!

My three favourite Lemonheads albums.
1. It’s a shame about Ray.
2. Lovey.
3. Come on feel the Lemonheads.

My three least favourite NZ Idol contestants.
1. Filipo.
2. Ian from the top 60.
3. Emily from the top 24.

My three favourite carbonated beverages.
1. Vanilla Diet Coke.
2. Fanta.
3. Bundaberg ginger beer.

My three least favourite modes of transport.
1. Horse.
2. Taxi.
3. Getting a ride with a friend of a friend.

My three favourite movie theatres in Auckland.
1. Village St Lukes.
2. The Lido.
3. The Bridgeway.

My three least favourite mispronunciations.
1. lingerie as “lon-zher-ray”.
2. known as “no-win”.
3. performer as “preformer”.

My three favourite mispronunciations.
1. milk as “moowk”
2. ask as “arks”
3. New Zealand as “New Zullin”

My three least favourite business jargon terms.
1. Solutioning.
2. Provisioning.
3. Human resources.

My three favourite eating places in Raglan.
1. Vinnies.
2. Tongue and Groove.
3. Raglan Bakehouse.

My three least favourite things at the gym.
1. Dodging puddles and BMWs in the carpark.
2. Yelling out my warm up time to the instructor.
3. The shoulder machine.

My three favourite things at the gym.
1. The horrible mosaic by the pool.
2. Seeing 29:59 on the treadmill timer.
3. The flower arrangements along the hallway.

My three least favourite things to do with my car.
1. Renewing the registration.
2. Getting a warrant of fitness.
3. Refilling the windscreen water tank.

My three favourite things to do with my car.
1. Driving along the North-Western Motorway, along Upper Harbour Drive and back along the Northern Motorway.
2. Late night hooning.
3. Going through a carwash.

My three least favourite real spam subjects:
1. Your order N28-17823-324106 has shipped
2. Affordable Health Insurance Available Now
3. Free Yourself Of Kilograms At Once

My three favourite real spam subjects:
1. Dont let go the chance that can make u 20 years younger Agnetha
2. peach strong demitted swenson blackfeet
3. Y Stuck With Ur Current Job? Buy A Degree N Get Higher Salary whippet

v1ag@rA FAQ

I keep getting these spam emails trying to entice me to purchase pharmaceuticals that I have no use for. After getting approximately 5,932 emails in one day for an alleged impotence aid called v1ag@rA, I decided to contact the v1ag@rA sellers and find out more about their product. They sent me back this list of frequently asked questions. Needless to say, I’ve placed my order.

v1ag@rA FAQ

Q. what’s this “v1ag@rA” stuff????
A. it help u if u have problemz

Q. Will v1ag@rA cause my pipi to shrivel up and fall off?
A. lol!!!!!!

Q. can i take five v1ag@rA and go out and do big phat lines of coke and have hot sex with random strangers????
A. invite me too!!!!!

Q. MY WIFE IS AN UGLY HOBAG. SHE HAS FIVE BLACK HAIRS GROWING UNDER HER CHIN. WHENEVER I TRY TO MAKE LOVE WITH HER I FEEL NAUSEOUS. WILL v1ag@rA HELP ME?????
A. No, but if u have any n00die pic of her email them 2 me thx

Q. Who should not take v1ag@rA?
A. if u have heard rumours that u should not take it, that is just JEALOUS HATERS who are just jealous and are being haters and are suffering from tall poppy syndrome so you should not listen to them!!!!

Q. i heard that if u douche with a crushed up v1ag@rA mixed with a pepsi that u won’t get pregnant. is this true?
A. no. u have 2 use diet coke

Q. how often shOULD I TAKE v1ag@rA?
A. as often as u like but if ur doing low carb diet u wont be able 2 take them at all lol

Q. my manhood was tragically lost in a boating accident in 1987. can v1ag@rA help me? (please say yes – you are my last hope!!!).
A. yes

Q. Three months ago I ordered some v1ag@rA. When the package I arrived I was shocked to find what looked like blue jelly beans that had been squashed into a diamond shape. But I took four of them and enjoyed a month-long erection. Is this normal?
A. no. pls send pics

Q. What you mean its not normal? Should I see a doctor or what?
A. pls send pics so our internationally qualified “doctor” can assess the state of your penis. can u please make sure that u trim first and oil it up a bit too pls. also note that “doctor” is not recognised in five US states.

Q. my fiancee and i are planning on honeymooning at the beautiful n1ag@rA f@1lz.
A. pls note v1ag@rA should not be used within 52 hours of a traditional wedding ceremony

Q. Is it “safe” to take “v1ag@rA” with “alcoholic beverages”?
A. “yes” “lol”

Q. how duz v1ag@rA werk??????
A. lol we’re still trying to figure that out!!!!! lolz!!!!!!

Q. IM NOT HAPPY!! FIVE MONTHS LATER AND I STILL HAVEN’T SCORED WITH ANY HOT CHICKS!!! WTF??!! I’M NOT WASTING MY $$$$ ON THIS CRAP ANYMORE!!!
A. ok fine be like that mr limp dick

Q. i accidentally gave one v1ag@rA to my cat. he wouldn’t stop licking it. why doesn’t this happen to me?
A. because ur dick is 2 small

Q. What clinical studies of v1ag@rA have been done?
A. my my u do ask a lot of q’s lol how would “3 free v1ag@rAs” sound to u? would that stop u asking all these q’s mr busyboy????

Tic Tac Palmolive is very angry

I got this off Yesmum, and it seemed like fun. As well as just making up the names, I’ve also given them a bit of a personal description.

Exotic Foreigner Alias (Favorite Spice + Last Foreign Vacation Spot)
Cumin Apia will introduce you to her relaxing tropical massage technique and steal your wallet.

Socialite Alias (Silliest Childhood Nickname + Town Where You First Partied)
Bob Hamilton will make you his famous “Bob-tini” cocktail.

Fly Girl Alias (First Initial + First Two or Three Letters of Your Last Name)
R.Gal will out-dance you, and you’d better not be lookin’ at her man, bitch.

Rock Star Alias (Any Liquid on the Bar + Last Name of Bad-Ass Celeb)
Vermouth Hopper has written enough new songs in rehab that when he gets out he can leave his ungrateful asshole bandmates and cut a solo album.

Diva Alias (Something Sweet Within Sight + Any Liquid in Kitchen)
Tic Tac Palmolive will not be going on stage until the pink shagpile rug in her dressing room matches the pink drapes, as per her written request.

Girl Detective Alias (Favorite Baby Animal + Where You Last Went To School)
Kitty Hillcrest in on the verge of uncovering the orphan smuggling racket being run out of the reference section of the library.

Barfly Alias (Last Snack Food You Ate + Your Favorite Drink)
Almond Water remembers the old days, before that asshole ran off with his secretary, before social services took away the kids, those days… they were golden.

Soap Opera Alias (Middle Name + Street Where You First Lived)
Hilary Norma is close to getting her hands on the Von Brandt family fortune, but first must ensure that her innocent twin sister is not released from the mental hospital.

Bored of the rings

So while the boys were engaged in a gay jelly wrestling match/furious debate over diamonds, diamond rings, starving millions and why it is technically impossible to win a debate against Thomas, I was out facing the weather.

It was hot and it was rainy. In weather like this my hair frizzes up. If I was auditioning for NZ Idol on a day like this, people would be saying “GO TEH FRO!!!!” where ever I went. I envy bald people on days like this.

I saw two LJers today, gfsoul, who I initially did not recognise because his head was not rotating and starlajo, who was in a mighty Starmart.

I went to Real Groovy and used my birthday music vouchers on two CDs, Iggy Pop’s “Skull Ring” and Peaches “Fatherfucker”. It was a slightly nerdy purchase because each artist does a guest appearance on the other’s album. I kept the theme running by also picking up a ticket to Peaches’ pre-Big Day Out show at the King’s Arse next week.

Real Groovy has a bargain basement now. It’s where all their crap goes. Bins and bins and bins of all the shit CDs that people trade in but no one wants to buy. Except you know that in the midst of all the crap there will actually be some really good CDs. It’s just a matter of finding them.

Finally, last night Draizuh was doing lots of those LJ surveys, you know, the ones where you get a bunch of questions that you have to answer that somehow reveal bits of your inner soul. He’d run out, so I suggested he make up one himself. But he said, “Its more something youd do than me. Your creative and im just some guy ;_;” So for poor little helipad-dwelling chef II the stars DRZA, and any other interested survery-taking parties, I have come up with…

21 Questions

  1. Oi! Where’s my $50?!
  2. Baby, does my gigantic bulbous arse look big in this?
  3. When a boy puts his, um, thing in you, what does that feel like?
  4. Who loves who the most?
  5. At the Jazz in the Park concert. Me: Wearing a ripped and faded Soundgarden t-shirt. You: Wearing a pink t-shirt with “Blow Job” in red glitter paint. You asked me where the portaloos were. I showed you. I felt a connection and I hope you felt it too. Do you wanna meet up for coffee?
  6. Where’s my other shoe?
  7. What extras come with the super-deluxe model?
  8. Was I your first?
  9. If I got locked up and sentenced to a quarter century, could I count on you to be there to support me mentally?
  10. Dude, how much do you bench?
  11. Excuse me, would you please pass me one of those refreshing moist towelettes
  12. Ah, my old friend! Come, sit down. Let me pour you a drink. Tell me, how long has it been?
  13. What is up?
  14. You can tell me. I won’t tell a soul: what happened in Colombia?
  15. Do you take this person to be your unlawfully wedded, yet beautiful, sensuous and elegant spouse?
  16. Where is the love?
  17. It’s been a month already. When are you going to come and pick up your stuff?
  18. Hi, I was just wondering if you taped last night’s episode. If so, can I borrow it off you, please?
  19. Beef or chicken?
  20. Which notorious blonde party girl was recently seen sneaking out of the service entrance of the hotel where the premiere was held, followed minutes later by the “happily” married leading man?
  21. Which one of you bytchyz is my mutha?