Summer in Sydney gets me all Hot!

Sunday’s in Sydney are brilliant. A Summer Sunday is GLORIOUS!!!

You wake here on a Summer Sunday morning and your options are literally endless. Take yesterday for example…

A beautiful day, warm but not too hot; a perfect day to work on the ‘tan that hides the kilos’. Or you could be like me and always have an urge for shopping and food on a day like that. Exercise, beer gardens, parks, beach, pools, bikes… all options on a perfect Sydney day. And that’s not including special events! There are chores to be done but stuff that. It’s about being lazy, selfish and Sydney-esque on days like Sunday.

So there was a lot of activity for us yesterday, and it was all classic Sydney. So let me pretend like I’m the Minister of Tourism pitching to Oprah to get her to venture into my little world.

Redleaf Pool is to the Eastern Suburbs what Cannes is to the south of France. This little slice of heaven sits between the money of Double Bay and the power of Woollahra. It’s a mix of the young glamour set, Sydney g(A)y-List and troubled parents thinking they can keep doing what they did in their youth even though they have 3 children under 5. There’s barely room to spread out your sheet-towel without poking a Speedo in the eye. But the best part of Redleaf is that there is a semi-decent café within a 2-minute shuffle from your towel. The beef burger with fruit chutney changed my life yesterday! Boyfriend, Miss Cal and I fried like bacon and feasted on eye-candy.

RedLeaf

As far as I’m concerned no weekend is complete without a whip-around the Mother-Ship – Westfield Bondi Junction. Having lived in walking distance during its construction and seeing first-hand its creation, I feel an affinity with WBJ that borders on maternal. It’s like coming home, especially now I am a Redfern-ite. As I often say “if you can’t get it in the Junga, you can’t get it”. Today it was about ties! Being bestman for upcoming Brother’s wedding I am in charge of ties (I’m not good with too much responsibility). Sadly I still couldn’t find the ties I need which makes me think they do not exist. That’s the power of the Junga.

WBJ at its finest.

A quick sidebar… Only at WBJ Woolworths would you have hot men wearing nothing but their Speedo’s serving you snacks. In the Fruit and Veg section no less. If you don’t believe me…

Now thats customer service!

Feeling completely inspired by Boyfriend, who in the last 6 months has become a Gym-Junkie, I tackled another Sydney icon for a late afternoon run, Centennial Park. Truth be known, I’d hardly call it a run, more a Cliff Young shuffle. But Centennial Park is spectacular at any time of day so the pain is worth it, it is my happy place, and obviously half of Sydney thinks the same. It was swarming with every walk of life –picnics, trapeze artists, dogs, bikes (I love a cyclist!), runners, walkers, soccer matches, horse-riders, the list is endless. What WBJ is to consumers, Centennial Park is to the leisure-seeker. The path around it is one big fashion catwalk. But note to parents, kids with training wheels on their bikes are just too much fun on the running track.

So you can cram quite a bit into a glorious Sydney Sunday without really trying too hard. And all of it just a little bit special! Summer in Sydney lifts your mood, makes you happy, and can be a really beautiful thing. Its also a fantastic perv at lots of hot people and can all be done on the cheap – two of my other favourite things.

xoxo St. Murphy

What the hell am I doing? I'll get back to you.

So I’ve been at this blogging thing for a grand total of 3 weeks now and I can not tell you how much I'm loving it! I still haven’t really worked out what I’m doing though. As you may have noticed. I’ve spent a lot of time looking at the blogs of some very cool people such as Woogsworld, StylingYou and So Now What (my yummy-mummies!) and the ‘cool idea’ ones such Jo Blogs and Born This Way. I think I need to spend some more time working out what the hell mine is about, but I’ll get there I promise.

As my tag line says… there will be some general topic areas. Television addict, publicity guru, pop-culture victim, political novice and professional homo. Nearly everything that happens in my life worth writing about can fit into one of these categories. The other topic that I love writing about is my Inner Circle. I have some very amazing, funny friends who are always up to something brilliant so its easy to write about them. The blog is also a way for me to show them how much I’m in awe of them and appreciate them. Having said that, I’m sure it’s hard for them to see themselves in writing but I’m sure they’ll let me know if and when it’s a problem. I can offer photo approval as a goodwill gesture.

The other difficulty I have is that I’ve drawn a line in the sand and will not write about anything connected with my work. There is no way I could write about work without breaching the confidentiality of my employer, clients or competitors. And this is obviously crucial cause I like being employed. Being ‘in’ television you can imagine the brilliant material I come across every day, damn it. You’ll have to wait for my tragic memoirs at the end of my working life for those stories. And the subsequent lawsuits.

Close as we'll get to work... In my office watching TV (again!)

What I am going to do is start a section One for the Memoirs. I’m a talker and much to my friends frustration I tell the same stories over and over again. I want to start getting them all down before I go senile and can’t remember anymore. I’ve had some weird, funny shit happen in my life. Yes, it’s a little self-indulgent but it means a lot to me to get this stuff down. There will also be some television stuff in there from shows and gigs that are long gone but for sentimental reasons they are still important to me. Will kick-start that stuff soon.

As my first ever boss in television said to me “Its not about you Steven!” which was quickly followed by “The publicist is never the story Steven”. Worked well for me professionally, but I still like it all about me personally. I do realise this blog so far hasn’t strayed far from the central topic of MOI, I promise to make it more diverse moving forward. Cause even I’m getting bored with reading about me.

But the undeniably best part of starting this is that I had no idea I loved writing so much. I write for work, which can be such a chore, here it is purely for pleasure and I absolutely love it. I love working out what to do each day and have even given up television each night to write it, and that’s huge for me. So I’m not real concerned that I have no real purpose or goal, I just love that I love writing.


And finally, please do not ever, ever hesitate to let me know what you think - good, bad or otherwise. I really want you to. I love an opinion even if I disagree. I'm just happy that you gave it a minute to read.

Thanks for that, xoxoxo

P.S. to celebrate this three week milestone I've gone for a make-over. Much cleaner and easy to read. Still not ideal but I will invest one day in having someone make it pretty for me.

The movie of my life: Casting underway!

Twitter is the most brilliant thing ever invented! Beats the hell out of the wheel and penicillin that's for sure. Just the most random shit happens on Twitter, and conversations break out and distract me all over the place. Take last night for example...

My new bestest-Twitter-friend @Simieboy, who I do not know and have never met, asked the hilarious @kyliedoyle, who is a pre-social-media friend, who would play us in the Underbelly version of our lives? Amused, greatly!! Of course @kyliedoyle would be played by Catherine Zeta Jones because she is a very glamorous and sophisticated brunette. Ideally I would be played by someone distractingly beautiful, cheeky, in their early 20's and with a body to die for. Such as someone like Zac Efron or the guy with the mohawk from Glee. The reality is the only people I ever get as a look-a-like are tragic tabloid trash, drug addicts, weirdo's or fatties. Let me take you through my Top 4 All-Time Look-A-Likes.

1. Peter Andre
I get this A LOT! I have got this since 1993 but even more so lately - much to my mortification. I have even had people stop me in shopping centres. Let me just be clear... I am not orange, do not have black hair, I haven't seen an abdominal muscle since 89 and my interest in trashy page 3 models is purely platonic.

My hair is taller!

2. Joaquin Pheonix
This one I don't really see at all, but am not really offended by either. I got it a lot when Gladiator was the hottest thing around. He's a complete whack-job but he sure can act. So more than happy for Joaquin to play me in the movie of my life even though the resemblance is little more than hair colour.

Too butch

3. Jack Black
OFFENSIVE!!! When is it a good thing to be compared to a chubby guy with personal grooming issues. Only saving grace is that he's hilarious, just a shame that has nothing to do with his looks. I hate to admit it, but I can kind of see that if you squint your eyes we could be confused.

Damn, more similar than I thought.

4. A Greek or Italian man
I get this once a month at least. My genetic pedigree is white on white, nothing remotely interesting except for a mixed-race marriage out of South Africa many generations ago. I would kill for Mediterranean skin. I get this look-a-like because I have a very dark mono-brow.

Similar teeth too...

Oddly, the only thing these four have in common is some seriously dominating eyebrows, maybe thats my defining feature as well. What a startling revelation to have at the age of 38.

So to answer your question @Simieboy and @kyliedoyle... I have to go with Joaquin for two reasons.
A) there is believed to be a remote resemblance
B) he has the skill level to pull off my multiple personality disorder.
Go forth and cast him!

Now, more importantly, who would be cast to play you in the movie of your life? And don't be bashful!


************************
Breaking News... I forgot one, Miss Cal has shot through a reminder. And considering this one has boobs you can understand why she wasn't top of mind. SANDRA BERNHARD! As brilliant as she is this is the most SHOCKING of my look-a-likes. Mainly because I am a man.

Australia Day done the Hamish Von Trapp and Irish Mark way.

Hamish Von Trapp and Irish Mark really know how to put on a spread! In certain circles they are becoming quite famous for their dinner parties – a lethal combination of fabulous food and large quantities of alcohol. Their particular specialty is Japanese but for Australia Day it was a good old fashioned BBQ. Well, a little more gourmet than your average BBQ, after all they hommer-sexuals.

Hamish Von Trapp is universally known by this name as he is the only person we know who owns and wears a lederhosen. He doesn’t wear it all the time, just on special occasions. Such as the time back in 2001 when he wore it while skateboarding at a house party. One of the funniest things I’ve ever seen in my life. Hamish Von Trapp and I were housemates only briefly but oh so memorable. Along with Canadian Pete, the three of us forged a life long friendship from our stint at ‘432’ – but I’ll save those amazing stories for another post.

Miss Cal and Hamish Von Trapp

Irish Mark has been with us for 6 years and even though we can’t understand a word he says we love him dearly. And like all good Irishman he has a heart of gold. He’s also the smartest of our friends cause he’s a Doctor. Hamish Von Trapp is a pharmacist so it’s a match made in medical-heaven. They’ve ventured out west and set up home in Erskineville so it was here we celebrated Australia Day.

Boyfriend and I packed our suitcases and passports for the long trip to the Inner West; we bathed in sunscreen, stocked up on liquor supplies and off we trekked. All the gang were there including Miss Cal, Lucky Paulie, Sir Murray and Lady Brendan, Ritchie-Rich, Mr Mark David Jones, Glama-puss Rach, to name a few. As always the hospitality on display from Hamish Von Trapp and Irish Mark was flawless. We were surrounded by dips, breads, salsa, corn chips, I ate myself stupid before the BBQ even fired.

The Boys.

After far too many vodka and diet cokes I had turned predictably obnoxious and revolting (my apologies all!), just in time for the Meat Section. I gorged and overdosed on protein. There was every type of meat imaginable, and being the bush-bogan I am I loves me some meat. It was absolutely delicious. By this stage guests were moving away from me because of the stray bits of meat flying around me and the verbal diarrhoea spurting from my mouth.

And how hot was it!!! We all did this delicate dance all afternoon trying to stay out of the sun and under the shade cloth. At the risk of sounding disgusting… I’m a sweater so days like Wednesday are my worst nightmare. I could feel the body odour burning holes in my t-shirt. But thank god the sun eventually went down and the temperature dropped 10 degrees. 


I want to make special mention of Lady Brendan who was absolutely on fire! At one point I was even keeping a tally of his hilarious one-liners. Now there is someone you should have at every dinner party. I just wish I could remember his lines so I could recycle them myself.

A huge and sincere thank you to Hamish Von Trapp and Irish Mark for once again putting on an amazing occasion. It was a brilliant way to celebrate Australia Day, surrounded by friends and eating great food. And as far as I’m concerned there is nothing more Australian than a gourmet hommer-sexual BBQ!

Happy Australia Day!

My Top 5 Most Hated US Reality Television 'Stars'

As much as I love television there are a lot of people on it I HATE! I hate them in an unnatural, deeply passionate way. Coincidentally they are all from US reality shows. So today I dumbing it down to gutter trash levels and profiling my…

TOP 5 MOST HATED REALITY TELEVISION ‘STARS’.

And I use the term ‘Stars’ here very loosely. For the purposes of these pages lets think of ‘stars’ as someone with a big enough, rude enough and offensive enough personality to carry at least a 30 min program. I’m sure in their own minds they are MEGA-STARS, but to me they are only one social level above the Bali 9.

Lets start at the top and work our way down…

1. Michael ‘The Situation’ Sorrentino – Jersey Shore.

There can be lots of good, funny stuff on this show - such as Snooki. In fact, I find all the girls bizarrely watchable. But The Situation is the most obnoxious, ridiculous, self-important man ever on screen. And SO DUMB! And you know how much I hate dumb. Towards the end of Series 2 I was starting to get violent with the remote at how misogynistic and evil he was becoming. How he scored at all is beyond me. And I’m sensing a very small penis.

Just foul!

2. Patti Stanger – Millionaire Matchmaker

What I find most offensive about Ms Patti is that she holds herself up as a relationship expert. I know more about straight relationships than she does - now that’s saying something! ‘Women as meat, men to be idolised’ is a tough pill to swallow from a supposedly strong, independent woman. And don’t get me started on her wardrobe – it’s a cross between an 80’s Joan Collins and Elvira.

3. Lauren Conrad – The Hills

I know she’s long gone but I still harbor a grudge. She was just complete and utter nothingness around which a whole series was based. Everything about this woman is bland and beige. Even when she was at her most ‘dramatic’ I found myself yawning. The fact that someone this dull could go on to launch clothes, perfume and a book is disturbing. Even her website is BEIGE! She gets paid to turn up at parties; well I’d leave if she did.

Boring old LC

4. Rachel Zoe – The Rachel Zoe Project           

Thank god for gorgeous Brad, sap Roger and the much-missed Taylor or this show would be unbearable! I have an ego and a level of self-absorption greater than most, but Rachel Zoe makes me look like a humanitarian who builds schools in African villages. She has herself on a pedestal alongside Mother Teresa for her contribution to society. I have a deep fear for her poor child if she ever becomes a mother, please all pray for a boy, because they are going to grow up with some serious mother/body/psychological issues.

5. All the Mums – Toddlers & Tiara’s

If you follow my Twitter you will know that I am obsessed with Toddlers & Tiara’s. Yes, I love a pageant, but the key reason is that I despise the stage-mums (& some dads) with such a morbid fascination that I can not miss an episode. They are all so tragically obese, utterly suburban, completely delusional and entirely unlikable. It is so transparent that they are living out their own frustrated dreams through their poor tortured daughters. As much as it is the daughters who take to the stage it is the hideous mothers that are the 'stars' of this show. They repulse me and yet I can not turn away.

Now I bet I know what you’re thinking. Yes, I watch A LOT of television. Yes, even though I hate them I still watch their shows. Yes, I am the first to admit that there is something delicious about watching horrible people. And YES, I know I need to get a life.

But living in reality-tv-land is so much more fun!

Who are the US reality 'Stars' that you love to hate? Are they the same as mine?

Australia Day! A 5th Class Poem.

Today we will all be celebrating in our own special way what Australia means to us. My guess is that most people will either be boozing with friends in the sun or too hungover from last night to do anything! It’s very Australian to take full advantage of a public holiday. Today I will be pulling out my much-loved Aussie Flag from my ‘dress-ups bag’ and I will wear it with great pride, just like I did during 2000 Olympics. Boyfriend and I are off to a BBQ at the home of friends who dare to live in the Inner West, it will be a joyous celebration of Aussie-ness! But more about that on Friday…

As befitting my intellectual maturity, today I am penning a Year 5 Poem to celebrate all that should be important to Australians. I’m sure there is a technical term for such a classic form of literature, but for me it’s how we wrote poems in 5^th Class so that’s what I’m calling it.

What Australia Means To Me – A Year 5 Poem.

By St. Murphy

A – Athletes. As a nation we produce a disproportionate number of world class althletes – a lot of them are very hot (Swimmers) or very dumb (NRL). They are our heroes, our inspiration, and fantastic tabloid fodder when they inevitably fuck up.

Hot swimmer - Andrew Lauterstein

U – Useless. Today we should also celebrate everything we are useless at, like science and winter sports. We are shocking at hip-hop, chess, porn and cheap housing. Our use of the English language is also appalling… “Where the bloody hell are ya?”, say no more.

S – Speedos. I don’t care what anyone says, Speedos should be celebrated and revered as a national icon. Everyone looks good in a Speedo. I grew up in them and still proudly wear them today. Lifeguards, triathletes, body-builders, all the cool-kids wear them.

T – Testosterone. We are a very butch country. We like it rough, we pride ourselves on it. Camping, the outback, adventure sports, football, the great Aussie larrikan – all very butch. Me, I hate all those things and am as camp as Xmas, very un-Australian of me I know. I’ll butch it up for today only.

R – Reality Television. We are brilliant at this, and we LOVE it! MasterChef, Big Brother, Australian Idol, The Block, Australia’s Next Top Model – it is un-Australian not to love reality shows. I bet more people vote for reality winners than the Federal election. Sorry Julia, up against Guy Sebastian or Julie Goodwin you’d come up short.

Reality television rocks!

A – Alcohol.  This really doesn’t require explanation. I bet 90% of you reading this have already had a drink today. And as you should! That’s what Australia Day is all about.

L – Long weekends. We have them evenly spread across the year so that we never have to go too long without a 3 day weekend. We then jump at the chance to extend! All the big events are on Long Weekends – Sleaze Ball, AFL Grand Final, music festivals, etc. Its our god-given right to have 3 day weekends.

I – Idiots. We luuuurrve Idiots. People like Shane Warne, the Chk Chk Boom girl, Corey Worthington, Lara Bingle + most WAGS, Schapelle Corby and Sam Newman. We love them because they make us feel smarter. They make us get all self-congratulatory because we’ve never done anything that dumb ourselves.

Corey who...???

A – Aerogard. There’s nothing we can’t conquer with Aerogard by our side. We are a land infested by bugs and insects but with Aerogard life continues as normal. Pool-parties, BBQ’s, sports events – Aerogard gets us through it all. I even put it on before I go to bed, and its not to keep Boyfriend away. Forget boat-people, mozzies are Australia’s worst enemy.

So that’s my little celebration of our great country on our national day. Hope you have a brilliant Australia Day with your friends and family.

And have a drink for me!

*In hindsight I think I should have made it rhyme somehow. Oh well, will work on that for next Australia Day.

Yoga and Pilates are going to save me!

I’ve decided that I am going to get in to Yoga and Pilates in a big way. I feel better already just saying that. I’ve attempted one or two classes of each over the years but never with any great conviction. I love the idea of them, it’s in the execution I fail. So why try now? Well I think my tired old body is demanding some love. And definitely some repair.

My flexibility is appalling. I stretch to put my shoes on and that’s about it. And also I have one leg that is feeling shorter than the other. Yes, this is very odd and needs to be rectified. People tell me Yoga is great for this sort of shit. It’s also all about the breathing and serenity. Years of smoking have left my lungs grey and decrepit; lets get some pink into them again. And god knows I could chillax more.

20% achievable

Over the years I’ve spent a small fortune/house deposit on chiropractors (never again!) and osteopaths (my new favourites). Every health professional I’ve ever seen says I have the core strength of a 7year old girl. It’s because I don’t like to support my own body weight. That’s what chairs, lounges, walls and any solid object are for. So that I don’t end up like the hunchback of Notre Dame I’m gonna get me some core strength.

So I’ve printed off the necessary Fitness First timetables – I’ve been donating to this charity for many years, about time I got something in return – and I’ve circled all the Yoga, Pilates and Body Balance (whatever the hell that is) classes. I’m gonna get all over it. I’ve checked with workmates what I should wear and I’m all set to go. I just hope the teachers are attractive and patient.

SNAP!

It should be noted that I do not have a very good track record of maintaining an exercise program. My pattern is I usually go 5 times in one week, then have 3 months off. I usually try to do a lot of Pump classes or those big bad cardio machines which I’m quite obviously not ready for. Never weights – I hate weights. Surely with yoga and pilates I can ease my body into this gently, isn’t that the whole point? And now that I am on the record I just know I’ll have your support.

Before you know it I am going to look like Christie Turlington, just you wait and see.

Only a matter of time...

P.S. When I did an image search for "Men doing Yoga" nearly everyone turned up naked! I think I'm going to like this more than I thought.

Gay Memo: We now love sports

I have a sneaking suspicion that the gays are getting into sports. I don’t want to work everyone up into a frenzy over this but I am sensing more and more that the rainbow flag is flying at sporting events. I’ve noticed it with myself and more and more I’m noticing it within my brotherhood.

For me, it is because of Boyfriend’s influence. He brought to the relationship a great love of AFL and tennis. A few years ago he got me in a family tipping comp to make me more interested – it worked! I started out supporting 4 teams but I’ve narrowed it down to 1 – the Swans. Last season we even became members along with some friends. I’ve even been to some matches. One of them way out west at Homebush for god’s sake. That’s how committed to the AFL I’ve become.

After they won???

And it's not just because of the player’s arms and Ryan O’Keefe’s ass. There’s something about competition over 4 quarters that just builds and builds. The close matches are the best and I’ll support who’s ever behind at the start of the last quarter. I love an underdog. Which is why when Greater Western Sydney start in the comp I’ll be switching allegiance. GWS will be combining three great loves of mine – lean men, underdogs and bogans.

Last year Boyfriend and I, completely by accident, even started watching Formula 1 Grand Prixs. Now I know more about brick-laying than I do about cars but the strategy involved and the finely tuned performances are fascinating to watch. Boyfriend also introduced me to horse racing. His favourite week every year is Spring Racing Carnival. It’s not uncommon for us to be found in the back of some seedy pub placing bets on horses, trots or dogs. I pick winners based on colour of course.

Which brings me to the tennis. My Saturday night was spent watching Stosur and Tomic at the Aus Open, and Boyfriend wasn’t even home. He’s normally the tennis nut, not me. But I’ve found myself watching A LOT of tennis this summer, and I loves it! The elite of this sport are truly gifted athletes and brilliant to watch. And of course whenever I’m watching TV I’m also on Twitter so I know there were a great many other poofs watching as well. It was then I realised… Sport is getting the gay treatment.

I don't need to say anything.

During the cricket I thought it was really weird/disturbing how many poofs were twittering about the matches. I have the shortest concentration span in the world so anything that goes for 5 days is my worst nightmare. Surely they’re not watching, I thought. Now the tennis as well! And I know that we have a gaggle of gays who go to the AFL with us, a friend also just joined a gay surfing group. The evidence seems to be everywhere. Could there have been a gay memo go out that we are now into sports?

Maybe there was a memo, or maybe I’ve just been ignorant for too many years. I thought our sporting interests were restricted to the diving and gymnastics (for obvious reasons) but it seems we are branching out. I am embracing this change! I will sample all sports now, bring it on I say. Except, of course, the NRL. I will not support sportsmen if they can’t spell their own name. Or have sex with their dog. That’s where I draw the line.

Note: Gays can use ‘poof’, straights can’t. It's Murphy’s Law.

Wardrobe disasters and your love life

On Friday night I had a very Sex & The City experience. I had dinner with four lovely ladies – two old friends, two new. There was a little bit of cheese eating, more than enough bbq cevapcici sausages, a great deal of pinot gris and a whole lotta gossiping. It was hy-steri-cal! I did feel like a bit of an intruder though, mainly because of the penis I take with me everywhere.

Straight women are a lot more like gay men than even I thought. The hot topic for the night was boys, boys, boys. Dating, sex, wardrobe, sport – we covered it all. I was intrigued. I was particularly fascinated by the details of a new relationship one of my dining partners was enjoying. They have had a number of lovely dates with more planned for the future. Everything was on track for ‘getting to know each other better, lets see where this goes’. Except there was one problem.

What I think 'mandles' are. 

The man in question has a questionable wardrobe, in particular a pair of ‘mandles’. Now this was a term I was not familiar with. It’s a man-sandle and that I understand. The potential boyfriend was wearing them far to regularly and the debate was should she say something. Female opinion – wait to see where the relationship is going before you subtly work on his footwear. Gay opinion – I can’t believe you haven’t made fun of them already, set fire to them immediately. She certainly shouldn’t be seen out at all with a man in mandles, especially on a date.

But who am I to judge? Well, yes, the gays are very good at judging. On reflection though there have been some items in my wardrobe that range from laughable to hideous and now I’m wondering if I’ve lost friends or a shag over them. When I think about the lime green satin low-cut pants I used to wear on fabulous nights out I’m sure they ruined any chance of a pick-up. I thought they were heaven up until I found them in my cupboard years later. I can not describe how awful they were. And if I remember correctly I used to wear a purple lycra top with them. I’m judging myself hard.

I remember when Summer used to be all about sleeveless t’s. I had a favourite that was red and blue with a cartoon of a hotrod car on the front with “Wheels Of Hell” emblazoned on it. I wore it at least once a weekend for 3 months. It was practically a midriff. I had a boyfriend at the time and I ache to know now what he thought of it. With my gut hanging out, the gangly white arms and the kiddie cartoon I can only guess? I wish I still had “Wheels Of Hell” so I could give it to my 2 year old nephew.

'Wheels Of Hell' was something like this

One of the perks of my job a few years ago was raiding the freebies that were sent to actors. If clothes didn’t fit them I’d make them fit me. I scored a pair of jeans that were a foot too long and practically flares WITH bleach splashes. Far too edgy and cool for me. I rolled them up and wore them with pride. With the benefit of hindsight I looked like a clown. 2004 was a lonely year and I blame those jeans.

I’m changing my opinion on the mandles. If you want to wear mandles than that’s your god given right. And if you think you look hot in them than who am I to judge. I’m actually now thinking the mandles should be teamed with some lime green satin pants and “Wheels Of Hell” for a stunning look this Summer. Look past the mandles my new friend and lets hope love blossoms.

Yep, I looked like a clown.

WOW! I just know I could never do that.

This week some friends of mine opened their very own restaurant. How damn cool is that! Its impressed the hell out of me for so many reason. Imagine being so passionate and committed to something that you put it all on the line to create something special? I struggle to decide what to wear let along make a commitment like this.

Jezza has been a chef for many years and has worked all round the world. He’s been planning this for ages, dreaming about it even longer. Nicki is the glamour PR machine behind the man. They are good, good people and deserve every success. They were so nervous when their doors opened for the first time. Every detail had been planned and executed beautifully so as far as I could tell they had nothing to worry about. Their place is going to be an monster success.

The Devonshire - just before its opening

Every time I’ve ever thought about starting my own business I’ve had a little vomit rise in my throat. All that responsibility would kill me. If I was my own boss I’d give myself most of the day off. Every day!  And I would get so bogged down in the little things rather than get started on the big. It would take me weeks to decide on logo, months to choose stationary. Plus the other bad thing for me is that I’m not a very good salesperson, which is shocking for someone in PR. I’d be awful at trying to find clients. I’d end up doing the PR for the local shop and my Blockbuster store – the only people I’d see.

Even worse - imagine if I worked from a home office. The time–wasting I could do with the dogs alone would be astonishing. I also fear I would double in size. With all that time on my hands you just know I’d eat myself stupid. And I’d never go to the gym because “I’m too busy with work”. I’d have to get a third Foxtel/IQ connection to have in my ‘office’ just to save me from having to go downstairs for Law&Order. Already this new business is costing me a fortune, and that’s before I’ve even decided what it is I do. No thanks, not for me.

The Devonshire - the bar

So when I see Jez and Nicki carving out this amazing place for themselves I think it is so special. They are to be hugely congratulated for making their dream come true. Fingers-crossed success comes their way, which I have no doubt it will. As long as I can always get a table that is. I want their restaurant to become my ‘Cheers’ where everyone knows my name.

The Devonshire

204 Devonshire St, Surry Hills

02 9698 9427

Check out their website!

THE FOOD

A selection of sample dishes from The Devonshire's new menu:-

Entrees

King salmon rillettes, hot smoked belly, watercress bavarois and horseradish 20 

Scallops, squid, celeriac, pomegranate and golden raisins 25 

Mains

Kurobuta pork loin, belly and shoulder, pumpkin, prunes and apple 34  

Duck breast, confit leg, fig tarte fine, bitter leaves, baby onions and roasting juices 36  

Dessert

Bittersweet chocolate pave, chocolate sorbet and chocolate ice cream 14

Devonshire tea creme brulee, scone and jam ice-cream and whipped cream 15

Good things can come out of dirty nightclubs

So I caught up with one of my oldest and dearest friends the other night. His name is Lee-Roy and he’s a bit weird. He wouldn’t even mind me saying that, we’ve been telling him for years. He’s one of those guys who has never played by the rules, he makes up his own. He’s home for a visit from London so he can catch up with everyone and show us his new beard. It’s a very impressive beard although it does remind me of the Amish. Well, the gay Amish.

Lee-Roy and I met way back in the 90’s when we could both podium dance with our shirts off (he still can, I would empty the bar). We met at the most glamorous of establishments – the Beresford. Not the polished and posh Beresford we know today, but the dirty, smelly, skanky day-club that was an institution for so many years. The Beresford used to be pure trash but oh so brilliant fun. You could play all day with bikies, drag queens, the homeless, models, amputees, the rich and famous – it was an absolute freak show. Lee-Roy and I used to fit right in, we did some of our best floor-work at that bar. We spent far too many weekends wallowing in our own filth at the Beresford.

Lee-Roy

We became friends by accident because I thought he was friends with Miss Cal, Miss Cal thought he was friends with me, and around the circle it went. Before you knew it he was part of our inner circle. Every party/dinner/drinks since then Lee-Roy has arrived fashionably late wearing something ridiculously fashionable. His concept of time is quite different to everyone else’s although he is improving with age. The running joke for many years was “Lee-Roy hasn’t been home since ’89!”. He’s always loved a nightclub our Lee.

Lee-Roy has been in London for a few years now and last year I was best-man at his wedding. It was a beautiful day, not only because it was Lee-Roy’s wedding but it was also my first gay wedding. God love the English for legalising it. We’ve been through enough shit together to know that we don’t have to speak often, see each other even less, but can pick it right back up where we left off whenever we catch-up. He’ll make fun of my waist, I’ll make fun of his clothes – nothings changed in 15 years. I love him to death.

So it was brilliant to see him this week and hear all about his adventures. He’s now running bars, riding bikes (go figure!) and planning 6 months in Paris. He truly makes the most of everything our Lee-Roy and you gotta have a lot of respect for that. Now we have civilised dinners together rather than 24-hour benders. We are positively all grown-up and mature now, and definitely getting better with age. And to think it all started by accident in a death trap of a day-club.

I just wish he’d lose that gay Amish beard.

Damn it! I've stuffed up already.

Sadly today, as is a very regular occurrence for me professionally, I am demonstrating my poor time management skills.


My ambition of blogging every day has crumbled at Day 13. Damn it! I had the very best of intentions of writing something fabulous for you for today but a late dinner invitation distracted me. I am very easily distracted. Good food and long-lost friends won out over today's post - my apologies. I promise it won't happen again. Be assured though the dinner and the friends were fabulous so at least my frivolousness had an upside.


Dinner last night also gave me the content for tomorrow's post. It will be a mish-mash of sentimentality, silliness and blatant product-plugging - fingers-crossed it will be of interest.


Now I hope that those of you who read yesterdays post all went to either Tanya Plibersek or Julie Bishops website to vent your thoughts on Gay Marriage. I'm seriously still pissed off with the great majority of Australian politicians but at least via these two pollies we have our chance to have a say. I beg of you to do so.


As you know I am quite new to this blogging thing but am already fascinated by the feedback and stats I get through, both here and on Twitter. What I'm learning is that the personal stories, in particular about friends, are of the most interest. My friends will be delighted to hear this - NOT! So I will see if I can worker harder to bring you stories like this. God knows there's enough material.


Until tomorrow... xoxoxo

Politicians - What are they good for?

I’ve been doing some research and I’m not happy Jan!

Via my dear friend Twitter I learnt that the Federal Government’s Community Consultation period on Gay Marriage was ending this Friday. But hang on a minute… I haven’t been consulted? So off I go to the website of my Federal Member of Parliament, Labor’s Tanya Plibersek, to have my rant.

I was very pleased to find that Ms Plibersek had a feedback form front and centre on her home page. Two minutes later she knew exactly how I felt. In fact, I connected her with my post on Woogsworld where I first started venting. I bet Woogsworld is now sweeping through Parliament and soon Mrs Woog will be dining at The Lodge.

Thank you for the opportunity to have my say Tanya (and Mrs Woog!). I suggest everyone take her up on the offer.

So then I wanted to see what other pollies from the two major parties were doing? Were they letting their constituents in on this as well? I’ve done a quick whip-around of some of the key decision-makers websites and the results may surprise you, maybe not.

• ·      ALP – There’s nothing here, not even on the policy page. Go figure!
•       Julia Gillard/Lalor/Labor – again, nothing. Sadly I think I already see a pattern developing.
• ·      Wayne Swan/Lilley/Labor– nothing. Just some bad, air-brushed photography of himself. No mention of Gay Marriage.
• ·      Simon Crean/Hotham/Labor – my dodgy blog page looks better than his site. But still nothing.
• ·      I even checked in with Senators Penny Wong and Mark Abib – still no mention anywhere.
• ·      Liberal Party – I was so disturbed by the offer of “Liberal TV”, yes their own tv content, I could barely continue. But hey, low and behold, NOTHING.
• ·      Tony Abbott/Warringah/Liberal – it goes without saying, NO. Not even listed in his Constituent Issues Survey.
• ·      Joe Hockey/North Sydney/Liberal – getting real bored with this now, NO.
• ·      Malcolm Turnball/Wentworth/Liberal – Eastern suburbs hood you would think may be a little more progressive, NO. Only thing he was offering up was his iPhone App. What the…???

 Then shock, horror, BRACE YOURSELVES!!!

• ·      Julie Bishop/Curtin/Liberal – YES YES YES. Ms Bishop had a lovely little poll on the main page where you could vote – Strongly Agree down to Strongly Oppose. But the best part of it all – you can see the results! 64% of respondents voted STRONGLY AGREE with Gay Marriage!!!  Brilliant!

Julie Bishop

Can I strongly suggest that you all go to Ms Bishop’s site so that at least someone in the Liberal Party understands how we feel...

So my overall report card for our political representatives is depressing and sad. They are obviously disconnected and disinterested in regards to this issue, which appalls me. I can feel the anger boiling up inside. How the hell are they meant to know what their constituents think on the issue if they do not actively engage with them? Isn’t that like Politics 101 for a Federal Member?

I am now too angry to continue…

The Golden Globe goes to... the PUBLICISTS!

Golden Globes – LOVE THEM! Not just because they are the trashiest of the award ceremonies but because its an all in brawl of both TV and movie types. Award ceremonies are huge for me. They combine so many of things I love – red-carpet, frocks, celebs, acceptance speeches, extreme campness and the potential for disaster. Also, in a professional sense, they are incredibly voyeuristic for me.

While watching award shows like the Golden Globes I can’t help but think of the army of publicists frantically working their headsets and Blackberry’s behind the scenes. It is the publicist that makes sure it all runs smoothly. I’vebeen a publicist for far too many years now but I still get off on the buzz of a red-carpet. Don’t be fooled though by the glitz and glam – its hard, sweaty work for the publicist. While craziness swirls all around them, the publicist will be rock solid, cool, calm and collected in the middle of it all.

There were a couple of publicists from last nights show that I am wearing a glittered arm band for today as a showing of support and solidarity. Can you imagine what it would be like to be Ricky Gervais’s publicist? You’d be so excited your client got the top gig, you’ve worked hard on pre-press, you’re full of nervous energy in anticipation of the opening monologue – 10 mins later you realise you won’t be welcome at any after-parties. While he was much-loved online and by the viewers, you could feel the pain in the room. When a celeb is that controversial you just know their publicist is taking some very unpleasant calls – especially from the Scientologists!

One of the publicist’s jobs is to manoeuvre (push, shove, drag, road block) the celeb down the red-carpet. When Helena Bonham Carter’s publicist first saw her outfit their heart would have stopped. Not because of its hideousness but because of the work it would mean for them. Red-carpets are easy if no one is interested in your celeb. They are a NIGHTMARE when everyone wants a chat. Every photographer, every camera crew, every journo would have wanted a piece of HBC on that carpet. That sort of attention would send a publicist straight for their hip-flask.

The Glee cast cleaned up! They will have partied their arses off! Never, ever is this a good thing for a publicist. All those far too young and far too attractive starlets running around drinking, pashing, falling over, flashing – god help them if they end up with Charlie Sheen. The publicist will have spent the whole night trying to prevent anyone getting a photo worthy of page 1 of the National Enquirer. Red-carpet coverage = Good. After-party drunk, nude photos = Lindsay Lohan.

Chris Colfer before after-partying with Charlie Sheen

So when you next watch an awards ceremony please take a moment to celebrate the publicists. They are the brains of the operation, the oil in the cogs, the icing on the cake. They are so rarely acknowledged but awards shows could not survive without them – if I do say so myself. No publicist means everyone looks look shit, wanders around aimlessly, gets drunk and passes out in front of the photographers – just like at the Brownlow.