I’m a bad blogger, but it’s because of the MUMMY-BLOGGERS!

Oh dear…

I had planned on this insightful, intellectual, mildly amusing but distinctly St. Murphy blog post today. But unfortunately I ended up at a Book Launch followed by an ‘after-party’ that left me incapable and too tired to string a coherent sentence together.

You see, last night I blagged my way into the launch of…

...by Kerri Sackville

…cause, as I said to Mrs Woog, I’ve never met a party I couldn’t get myself invited to! (except the Ballroom at this years Logies, but that’s a whole other post)

It turns out the author of said book, KerriSackville, is an incredible writer, I think a former journo, and with an amazingly similar circle of (online) friends to me even though we’d never met.

The book, the launch, the guests, Kerri – all too FABULOUS for words!

Had a ball! Subsequently, no post this morning. Primarily because I spent a rather long night meeting new, amazing people – all of them fellow Twitter/Blogging addicts – who I now love and adore. And just to clarify the title, 99.9% of them were Mummy-Bloggers.

We had many of these…

French Martini's on the advice of StylingYou

Well, Mrs Woog and I did anyways.

Met so many people that I already follow on Twitter that to name them (as if I could remember?) would be impolite. So, so cool to put real faces to the avatars I’ve seen so many times.

So besides last night demonstrating that this blogging thing can slowly and surely turn into something very special, it also showed me that Mummy-Bloggers know how to drink.

Subsequently, no post this morning.

Bad blogger St. Murphy, bad blogger.

Blagged myself in so late I had to write my own nametag...

Special Note: Huge congratulations to Kerri Sackville on her book and Random House for publishing it. Best-seller without a doubt.

Special Note #2: My amarsing blogging-friend StylingYou took out the Bloggers award at yesterday’s Jasmine Awards for this post. Sincere Congrats StylingYou! Such a shame we spent your entire winnings on French Martini’s last night. Love ya Nikki!

It's every boys dream to marry a Prince!

I don’t care what anyone says – I am OBSESSED with the Royal Wedding and I will be glued to the television this Friday night!

I mean who doesn’t want to whisked off their feet by a dashing Prince and marry into such extreme wealth that us mere mortals will never comprehend?

Who doesn’t want to have a wedding with an A-List guest list like Will & Kate’s?

It’s every little boys fantasy to marry a 6-foot tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Prince who looks so dashing in a uniform and can fly a helicopter. It’s certainly mine!

For the grand occasion I will be perched on the edge of my couch with my best gal, Miss Cal, beside me. Of course we will both be fantasizing that we are Miss Kate Middleton. We will have a fully stocked snack bar of tuna dip, crackers, chocolate and cornchips. We will have a vodka, lime and soda or two to toast the radiant couple. We will mock, scorn and critique every bow, bustle and bouquet. It’s going to be brilliant. How can you not get caught up in such over-the-top pageantry. It will be the campest wedding ever (discounting Posh and Becks who did have those phenomenally OTT thrones).

I spent yesterday morning pouring over the women’s mags absorbing every detail. I desperately want to know Kate’s final decision on whether she will wear the traditional tiara or less conservative flowers? Or the even more troubling question of whether she will go with a half-up, half-down do or something completely left-of-field. Oh the potential controversy astounds me. And you just know we will all be watching and thinking of our beautiful Princess Di looking down on her eldest son with a single tear rolling down her cheek (cue Elton John with English Rose).

It is all pure escapism, the likes of which could never be scripted.  If this wedding was a chick-flick we wouldn’t buy it for a second. That’s how extreme this story/event is.

But through it all I have one little nagging thought chipping away at my happiness. For a wedding, where two souls allegedly become one, there is a complete lack of intimacy. The mere fact it is going to be watched by millions and choreographed down to every second takes all the intimacy out of it for Will and Kate and leaves them just putting on a show. And can you imagine their nerves! They won’t remember a thing after.

I bet they are both just aching to get to the final party of the night, the one where it is just their family and friends. I’m sure that will be the highlight for them. I feel I know them intimately after all I’ve read so I can say this as if I am their bestie.  I hope they get to that party, rip off their veil and tie and cut loose on the dance floor. I hope they do some shots, make requests of the DJ and slide across the dance-floor on their knees. I want them to behave like Harry would!

So I can’t wait for Friday night! More specifically, I can’t wait for 8pm when we get the first full look at the frock! I will be beside myself. After-all, it is every boys dream to marry a prince.

Miss Call and I will be fighting over the Kate mask.

STOP THE PRESSES!!! I've just watched the most brilliant piece of television ever made - the William and Kate telemovie! If you thought I was obsessed before this has taken it to a whole new level. Now I know them INTIMATELY!!!!


** Please note that I just got through a whole post about a wedding without once mentioning that GAYS CAN’T MARRY! In England gays can marry so I will direct my bitterness elsewhere.

There's a new Boss at Man Pit

Little Sammy has made the big move and now lives at Man Pit! And already he is the BOSS!

Man Sam in Man Chair

A child of divorced parents, Sam is handling the transition with his usual style. Now you may know I am the proud parent of Sam and his stepbrother Jackson. Jackson has been raised since a pup by Aschapelle (artist formerly known as exBoyfriend) so he stayed in Redfern. We ‘rescued’ Sam just over 2 years ago so he came with me to the city.

It’s a joint custody arrangement. Perfect for everyone. But thank god I now have some company cause talking to myself is just plain boring – I always know the answers and I've heard all the jokes before. So I am unbelievably excited and happy to finally have Sam living with me at Man Pit.

He’s slowly finding his way around, sniffing and poking at everything. For such a smart little man he seems very unsure of himself. I can confidently say though he is very happy with the new lounge. He’s sitting beside me now as I type. He’s the best lap dog in the world Sam, just follows you wherever you go. And matches the colour scheme of Man Pit perfectly.

He loves his new lounge

We went to our little neighbourhood dog park today, or as it will now be known, Sam’s Toilet. We didn’t get to play with any other dogs though so he hasn’t made any new friends or boyfriends yet. I’m hoping he’ll meet the man-dog of his dreams and fall in love. My little Sam deserves some gay-doggy-happiness.

Sam's Toilet

Now Sam’s not used to living on carpet, he thinks the floor is a giant lounge. And he’s not used to wood decking. Possibly he’s nervous about falling through the cracks. I have put his food and water out there so he’ll be used to it in no time. He LOVES his food our little Sammy, who ain’t so little anymore. He’s 50% heavier than when we first picked him up 2 years ago. We are discussing a diet and some calorie control.

Such a little Piggy

He’s also very excited to be back watching crime drama’s. When he’s with Daddy Aschapelle its nothing but mind-numbingly bad American reality shows so he’s very grateful to now have a more mature, intellectual selection. He loves the Law & Order’s just like Daddy St. Murphy, Lt. Van Buren is his favourite.

Best part about having Sam at Man Pit is the affection he gives you in the morning. It is so adorable. Breath is a little stinky but aren’t we all of a morning. And he does have a tendency to snore which can be annoying, but not for the moment. I’m just ecstatic that I now have Sam living with his Daddy St. Murphy.

Sam says Goodnight

Clinging to the Dream: Photos from my youth

So I lost the good part of half a day while I was at home in Griffith going through old family photo albums. It’s addictive, once you start you can’t stop. Everyone in my family, especially me, LOVES a photo. Every stage of my life is very well documented.

Now this is the most self-indulgent, self-absorbed post I’ve ever done. And that’s saying something! Every time I got all excited about a photo I took a shot of it on my iPhone. The result is this post.

Now there are two quite obvious themes to these photos.

A)   Camp, cute, funny shots from my Youth that would sit well on Born This Way, and…

B)   Shots that clearly show and prove that many years ago I used to be much much thinner and FIT! 

Please enjoy my little egotistical trip down memory lane!

Pageboy at Auntie Cheryl and Uncle John's wedding

Auntie Cheryl is the best aunty in the world and I love love love her dearly. Just wanted to get that in there.

Got excited over this one cause this year I am back in contact with two guys from this shot, one after 20 years and the other after 25. All thanks to Facebook.

Yr 7 School photo - start of monobrow and huge front gap

Yr 10 Social Committee Slave Day (have talked about this one before) - Brilliant time of life!

Yr 10 Formal, and no its not fancy dress. That shirt is Jade. Protecting the identity of partner here.  

Such an unbelievable poser! But can not tell you how much I  love that I used to be this thin!

Bro and I at his 18th. Note the floral shirts and motorbike on the cake.

This one, I got so excited about what my stomach looked like 20yrs ago that I nearly passed out.
CLINGING TO THE MEMORIES!!!!!

Now as much as I am addicted to B&H, Absolut and Foxtel today, I used to be just as addicted to exercise - I've literally become the polar opposite of my youth. These photos will come as a great shock to those of you who know me now. Please note the ponytail (it was the early 90's)!!!

Now these shots are to make my old mate Snuddo and I feel better about ourselves. Now that we are men of a certain age we can only dream of our athletic youth and defined shoulders.

Now just to end... I've talked before about how I'm such a hoarder. Well I've got boxes of 'memorabilia' still in the shed at Mumsy's house. Trolling through them I found these... My favourite swimmers from 1984! LA Olympic themed "Where there's a Will there's a way!" Or am I the only one who remembers that slogan?

Ahhhh... such memories. Sorry to drag you along with me. I did warn you upfront it was gonna be self-indulgent! Other reason, besides my ego, is I got a bit nervous putting shots up of other people who may not like it. Damn I'm considerate. So it's all about me

I'm clinging to the dream as much as those Willy swimmers clung to me!

ANZAC Day Dawn Service

Every year for as long as I can remember my Grandma has attended the ANZAC Day Dawn Service. She lost her husband, my grandfather, in WW2 and subsequently raised two boys on her own who never knew their father. She can not attend this year so I will take her place. I am sad and embarrassed to admit that I have never been to the Dawn Service before. My Pa also proudly fought in WW2, so it is fair to say that the war has had a dramatic effect on my family. I’m humbled to remember them both today.

Dedication of Purpose

At this hour, on this day, the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps, at Galipoli made immortal the name of ANZAC and established an imperishable tradition of selfless service of devotion to duty and fighting for all that is best in human relationships.

We who are gathered here today in this dawn vigil remember with gratitude the men and women who have given and are still giving in our Armed and Support Services, all that is theirs to give in order that the world may be a nobler place in which to live.

And with them, we remember those left behind to bear the sorrow of their loss.

Let us therefore dedicate ourselves to taking up the burdens of the fallen, and with the same high courage and stead-fastness with which they went into battle, set our hands to the tasks they left unfinished. Let us dedicate ourselves to the ideals for which they died. Let us with God’s help, give our utmost to make the world what they would have wished it to be, a better and happier place for all its people, through whatever means are open to us.

Special thanks to my dear, dear friend Sonia Louise who I accompanied this morning. She attends the Dawn Service every year.

Road Trip: GRIFFITH!

I am a notorious overpacker! Shocking in fact. A life lesson I’ve never learnt. This is the giant suitcase I’ve packed for 3 days & 3 nights in my hometown Griffith. You know how much I love Griffith and going home, so extra particular care needed to be taken.

And yes I am also taking me new man-bag as hand-luggage for laptop and all the usual daily stuff I carry around with me – diary, pad, pens, Zantac, Panadol, ventolin, ciggies, lighter, Berocca, power cords, coin purse, USB, hankies, everything but the kitchen sink. I even have my passport in there in the hopes I may one day be whisked off on an emergency overseas trip to an island resort.

I’m not sure the tiny little Rex plane that flies me home will be able to take the weight. I’ve done this flight a 1000 times but I still get nervous. The shell doesn’t feel like much protection to me. And the fact that it isn’t even big enough to pull up at the gate, instead you have to get a bus out to the tarmac. I can always sense on that bus that I am not the only one with these thoughts, there is always nervous laughter on that bus.

When you are getting on the plane you can literally touch the nose and the propeller. I would have got shots of inside the tiny banana to demonstrate midgets like me can’t even stand upright but Air Hostess took an instant dislike to me and practically confiscated my iPhone.

Now purely by chance I am in Griffith on the weekend of the biggest annual social event – La Festa! Now for most of my life this festival was called Vintage Festival and was an excuse for anyone over the age of 14 to binge drink. It’s a grape-growing/wine-producing district so it was all in the name of supporting the local economy. We used to wear leather pouches around our necks to carry our glasses in – say no more.

My memory of Vintage each year has two parts… during the day you travel round all the wineries on a bus and then at night you hit the Area Hotel for a street party. Ahhhh… so many memories! It’s a bit of a haze really but I’m sure anything I’ve ever done illegally was done for the first time at Vintage.

Maybe its just that I’m older but this La Festa event is very different to the Vintage I remember. Yes, there was wine, yes there was food, yes all of Griffith comes out for it, but now it’s in a lovely park with garden furniture and musical acts. Where do the young folk vomit?

I was a bit excited when I first made my way in cause with all these flags left over from Mardi Gras I was thinking my weekend at home just got a whole lot more interesting! May even be brave enough to turn on Grindr? Alas, me and the flags were the gayest things about La Festa.

I was casually strolling through the stands for the local wineries when I found myself in the middle of some Line-Dancing. Flustered, yes! So after I’d done a few docey-does with the lovely ladies I got some snaps…

My other favourite act was this group of lovely young ladies, obviously of faux-Austrian descent, who where performing a traditional dance of some far off homeland. I whispered to Mumsy “Are they from Griffith, this seems very odd?”. Now if this was a traditional Italian dance I would understand, but this was practically lederhosen. I discovered they had come down on a bus from Sydney! Go figure!

Best part of the day, hands down, was catching up with Cousin Jill who is the yummiest of the yummy-mummies in town. She rocks it let me tell you! And while Cousin Jill and her Spur-man braved the 30min queues for a Kranski I got to play with her 3 gorgeous offspring. And there in a nutshell is why it is so good to come home.

Crowds started to swell but I suddenly realised I didn’t really fit any target demo of La Festa. Families = Brilliant, heaps to do, lovely day out. Young folk = Brilliant, cheap wine, bands, crowd. Single gay man visiting from the Ghetto = I CAN'T FIND VODKA!

I have to face the fact that I am somewhat of a nanna now, gone is my youth of Vintage Festivals as a 19yo. But just to demonstrate my lingering immaturity, for some reason I found this hilarious! The last thing you see as you walked out of La Festa was…

Surely that’s not how you want your guests to remember you? Thats just bad PR.

Sloppy kisses, groping hugs and a huge THANK YOU!

Feeling pretty darn chuffed at St. Murphy today.

Yesterday we clocked over 20,000 pageviews here since the first post mid-Jan. Back then if you had of told me that this could happen I literally would have laughed in your face.

I am so blown away. I know in the grand scheme of blogging this isn’t big news at all, so many brilliant bloggers have mountains and mountains more readers than this obviously. I’m just so stoked that people have found it and shown some interest in these early days, it means a helluva lot to me. Makes me very happy. I can not thank you enough for taking a peak into my strange little world.

I started doing this cause I was so inspired by my friends who blogged (yes that’s you Mrs Woog and JoThornely) and I wanted to have a bit of a creative outlet outside of work. And also because weird shit tends to happen in my life and I love the idea of having a record of it. I have an absolute ball writing these pages. Before St. Murphy I never knew or understood how much I loved to write.

This blog has also become a bit of an emotional outlet for me. I probably share more here than I do with the important people in my life one-on-one. Its good to be able to hide behind this page a bit while still being able to say how I feel. This blog has come to mean much more to me than I ever expected it would.

Thanks so much for taking a look, commenting, tweeting, and all that jazz. I hope you keep coming back. Mrs Woog always says to me “just write for yourself” which I’m slowly getting the hang of. I know I've still got my training wheels on. But it’s also real nice to know that some like to read it.

Big hugs and kisses to all today, in the words of Jeff Fenech “I luv youse all!”

And Happy Easter!

St. Murphy

P.S Next post will be coming to you live from hometown Griffith, and who the hell knows what this town will throw at me to write about in the next 24hours. 

Celebrating Good People on Good Friday!

Upfront: I have completely stolen this idea from Twitter-bestie ShaunHeron. He began a ‘movement’ during the week to change Follow Friday (or #FF) to Good Follow Friday. Instead of the Twitterverse sending shoutouts to their friends, for Good Friday he wanted everyone to send shoutouts to people who are doing good in the world. So that’s what I’m going to do at St. Murphy today.

Happy Easter!

Now I am not a religious person in any sense. Like many of my people, organised religion scares me. It's all that “Gays are going to hell” and “ Your relationships are the devil’s work” that puts me off. But I do believe in some of the christian values such as be kind to people, fill the world with love, take care of one another, respect and honesty.

While I am not 100% sure what Good Friday means in a Christian sense, I am going to use it to celebrate good people, doing good work, for the greater good. It may be someone undertaking a special project or just someone who just by being themselves makes the world a better place. Bottom line, I just want to celebrate and acknowledge some peeps that have made a difference in my world – the good people.

Mums

It’s a world so different to my selfish existence. This past month I’ve spent a lot of time with some beautiful mums – my Sis-In-Law and my gorgeous nieces and nephew, Cousin Trudy and Mrs Woog with the Woogettes. I honestly do not know how you ladies do it! I get exhausted thinking about it. I struggle with the compromising it involves having a pet, let alone a child. I've learnt from you guys how big and how important your role as a mother is. And goddamn you do it well!

Nina and Lucas

The Commitment Project           

Evan Cooper, through his website The Commitment Project, has simply, effectively and with so much heart put forward his case for Gay Marriage. Evan tells the story of gay couples who have been together longer than 8.8 years – this is the average length of a hetero marriage. It is a motivating and insightful website, and the fact that Evan has undertaken such a huge task is inspiring. It is people like Evan who can bring about great change. Get on board!

The Twitter-verse

I make jokes about my Twitter obsession all the time; yes it’s a time waster, yes it’s distracting, yes its full of a lot of shit. But I honestly do not know what I would have done the past few months without it, my crutch. It creates community, friendships, entertainment and knowledge. I’ve relied on it so much as an outlet for contact and engagement. And I’ve met so many new fabulous people, and cemented friendships with people who were only acquaintances previously. All jokes aside, its been my safe-place for the last few months. To my Tweeps – you are good, good people.

Twitter-Date #1 with @Simieboy & Milney01

Great writing & Tim Dunlop           

You maybe sensing a slight theme here, that’s because equality is very important to me. Via a tweet from TheFlack I was introduced to this phenomenal piece of writing by TimDunlop. For two reasons: his incredibly eloquent and sensible explanation for the legalising of Gay Marriage and for the fact he gives it to the offensive ramblings of Barry Cohen. For every dumb-ass Barry Cohen we need 5 brilliant Tim Dunlop’s so that as a society we are always moving forward, not backwards. We all need to stand up to the Barry Cohen's of the world.

Funny People
I rate laughing very highly. In fact, it is mandatory. Laughing with, laughing at, chuckling, mocking, laughing at yourself - its all good. Luckily all my friends are funny bitches, friends always have a shared sense-of-humour. Met a whole heap of new people lately who have made me laugh... Hard! So if I've laughed at, with or about you recently THANK YOU! I think everyone needs to lighten up! We've got a lot to be happy about me thinks.

Laughing...

exBoyfriend

I've been blogging for about 3 months and in that time Boyfriend became exBoyrfriend. Today I want to change it again. I use nicknames for my closest friends here on St. Murphy and exBoyfriend is one of my nearest and dearest. exBoyfriend sounds nasty and suggests a harshness that doesn't exist. He will now be known as Aschapelle due to his morbid obsession with Ms Corby. What this latest change means is that I 100% believe we have very maturely, cleverly and respectfully transitioned ourselves from long-term lovers to life-long friends. I would seriously be lost without my Aschapelle.


So thats my Good People on Good Friday wrap-up. Hope you liked it. Celebrate the good people today! And Laugh!

The Baby-Sitters Club: The Woogettes

Would you trust me with your children?

Would you trust me to babysit your children?

Would you trust JoThornely and I to babysit your children together?

Now I’m guessing there are varying degrees to your response, starting with “You’ve got to be f*%king kidding” through to “But who’s babysitting you and Jo”. All fair responses. Considering I’ve never babysat for my own family, who know me best, I can’t say I wholly disagree with you.

As I say to all my family, “call me when they are 16 and I’ll take them to their first nightclub”. I know I’m much better with older kids rather than younger. I think it may be part of the gay gene, I lack maternal skills. But once of age I’ll be sure to be a good influence. Same with JoThornely, we are both committed non-breeders.

So you may find it startling that our dear friends Mr and Mrs Woog left us in charge of their two young charges. To be honest, I’m not sure how it came about, but JoThornely and I jumped at the chance to give the Woogs the night off so they could enjoy a quiet dinner together. Their two boys Jazz Hands and Harry are very famous to Woogsworld readers, they would be 5 and 7 (that’s a guess, I’m not good with this sort of thing) and delightful opposites in every way.

Mrs Woog left us with a fully stocked fridge and a pizza menu, was just like being at home! We kick-started the evenings entertainment with Uno. Lucky we were warned Jazz Hands was fiercely competitive, he was all over it like a rash. Harry’s a strategic thinker and cleaned up the first two games. JoThornely picked up the next two only to be trounced by Jazz Hands in the last. By this stage Harry and I were bored and already watching Disney Channel, my favourite.

Jazz Hands then ducked off so he could rehearse his concert for us. Harry, the absolute host with the most, made sure that JoThornely and I were warm and comfortable and brought us blankets and pillows. He also found me a much desired Diet Coke; Harry can do anything, his an absolute prince. He is the most considerate young man in the world. He went to the trouble of writing and cutting out place tags for us so we knew where to sit on the lounge. Cutest thing ever.

Jazz Hands had prepared four numbers for us – A Katie Perry, two Christina Aguilera and a show-stopping Beyonce to finish. He looked stunning and danced like a young Baryshnikov. There was some jazz, some tango, even some marching. There were moments of modern-interpretive and his shimmy was one of the best I’ve ever seen. Twice he began is routine in a Gaga egg pose. Now I know Jazz Hands is a mere child but he has a special gift. I guarantee you that one day JoThornely and I will be bragging that back in 2011 Jazz Hands gave us a private performance to Crazy In Love. A star is born, I kid you not.

Side note. At one point Jazz Hands was arabesquing in the bedroom and Harry was watching motorsport on television. So reminded me of my brother and I! Me in front of the mirror performing for a pretend audience of 1000’s, while Bro was watching sport and dreaming of his first motorbike. Ahhh… brothers can be polar opposites but will always be brothers.

JoThornely and I easily slipped into a good cop / bad cop routine, obviously me being the more adorable one I was good cop. Their poor cat Chuy suffered the most cause he is thrown about like a ragdoll by the Woogettes. Now we both have allergies to cats so Prince Harry went searching for some medicine. When the grown-ups pizza arrived, Prince Harry ran and brought us plates. So cute, I could learn a lot from him about hosting guests.

Mr and Mrs Woog arrived home just as we had whipped their boys up into a frenzy. Just in time for Mum and Dad to put them to bed. Hahahaha, exact reason why JoThornely and I have decided not to be parents – we are much better at being a fabulous uncle or aunt. We rock on in, cause havoc, and leave a mess for the parents to clean up.

It was the most fun I've had on the north side of the bridge since the Berry St Tavern in the 90's. I’m now actually thinking I’m quite a good babysitter and available for hire. Especially when the kids are as cute, considerate and as full of personality as the Woogettes. And, of course, I’d like a Beyonce number.