Wednesday, April 30, 2014

SCHNITZEL MUSHROOM SUSHI SNAIL



With the excessive exposure that we as humans have to social media, we have become a little bit cynical to our fellow man, especially when doused in ‘X PRO II’. My Instagram feed ranges from those who only post pictures of themselves or others out on the turps or I have the pleasure of eyeballing some huge titties in bralettes at JUST the right angle.

It seems my friends are following the same types of people. Over many a cheap wine we have discussed the types of people who come under certain categories defined by how they are received by the opposite or same sex. It is here I will delve into those categories and explain them each, leaving you to wonder what type of food are you?

DISCLAIMER: Now I realise this is all very shallow, but welcome to this site. Fuck it.

SCHNITZEL

A dude or a chick defined as a schnitzel is one who appeals to all types of people. She/ he is a regulation hottie. They will catch the eye of your fixie riding, tattoo laden, akubra toting hipster and will also have the buff stereosonic types gagging for a go. The reason behind the schnitzel name is that everyone loves a fucking schnitzel. When there is a schnitzel special going on down at your local, there is no way you will opt for the $30 steak, am I right? A piece of delicious schnitzel is an all rounder, one that satiates all kinds of people, and looks great doused in gravy. Don’t be shy in admitting you are a schnitzel, sometimes you are just such a raging babe that all men/women run to you like you are shelter on a stormy day. There is no shame in this, these people exist and they are walking among you every day. Although sometimes I feel sorry for a schnitzel as all forms of people usually bother them, many of who do not appeal to them. Having to bat away suitors with a timber log must be tiring for them and I really think we should have some sort of half marathon to combat the ever-rising perils of a schnitty.


MUSHROOM

Mushrooms aren’t just a delicious option while slathering up your schnitty. Mushrooms are people too, you know. They are the gentle medium between a schnitzel and a sushi. They appeal to the general public but then again there are some people who are just like, “Ta, but seeya”. This is explained by the fact that mushrooms are generally well liked. Vegetarians and people who like to shell out for a big breakfast especially enjoy them. While a mushroom may not exactly catch the attention of every man and his dog, they definitely produce some serious neck cricks from perving and the like. When checking out a mushroom, you will know that you are attracted to them, but may not realise why. Until later on when you wake up from your weird sex dream about them, and then you realise that this is the reason that mushrooms produce wild hallucinations. People will still tag their mates on their instagram photos, although perhaps instead of needing a timber log, the mushies can get away with beating off the babes with some kindling.

SUSHI

Now sushi is certainly a lovely choice for lunch. It’s light, refreshing and comes with wasabi. However, if you are a sushi then you may not be getting all of the attention you want from every person you meet. While discussing these categories, I would like to add, the original discussion only consisted of schnitzels and snails. However, we quickly discovered that this assessment wasn’t fair and we had to create some sort of middle ground to cover all bases. A sushi is the tender little middle ground between what everyone deems as babe’n and those people who have a particular sense of taste. A sushi is a type of girl/boy who may fit a particular style. For example, your Sarah Blasko types or your dudes who are running a look similar to those in Blur. Seems like every guy is at the moment, but that’s beside the point. The point being that if you are a sushi, you do pretty well and you aren’t particularly bothered by the masses. This will probably lead you to kissing/boning those who you are also attracted to. A fellow sushi perhaps? We all have our PBs.

SNAIL

So what category do you fit under Jess? Well, here it is. I know I am a snail, I have said this for years, and the reason has always stayed the same when people ask why, I simply reply, “Because I am an acquired taste”. Surprisingly it doesn’t mean that I slay it with French men. Although, I’m sure Manu might eye fuck me if he has had one too many pinots. Snails are those people who definitely do not appeal to the masses; in fact the majority may even find them a little confusing. But the people, who froth on a snail, REALLY froth on a snail. They make it their mission to try a snail. If you are a snail, you may be a woman who has been called “sir” a couple of times, or you may be a guy who gets called some sort of homophobic slur on a regular basis. Jokes on those dicks because meanwhile you are slaying it with the minority. Everyone loves an underdog, don’t they? If you are a snail, then you will know because you have been asked multiple times to give out your friends numbers/told to move seats so the courter may be closer to a non-snail/pashed some serious babes in your time/been the one who chases.


So I hope I have given you some sort of fucked up insight into my head. But I suppose if you are reading this, you would have already known that I love a metaphor- especially when it comes to babes. Plus, lets be honest all food is delicious….except onions. If you are an onion I will swipe to the right on Tinder.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

MOUNTAIN SOUNDS FESTIVAL


If you have been hiding under a rock, then I will have to explain to you that Mountain Sounds Festival takes place NEXT WEEKEND on March 15 and Mt. Penang Parklands!

This is like the ultimate outdoor house party that you could have ever dreamed while sipping your cruisers planning a big night out on the town. This will be the party to end all parties and if you haven't already bought your ticket yet- then what are you waiting for?

CLICK HERE FOR FACEBOOK DETAILS

HERE ARE SOME REASONS WHY MOUNTAIN SOUNDS FESTIVAL WILL BE BULLSHIT GOOD:

1. There is a stage called 'CLUB MOD'. Fuck off mate. This will be where you can check your spines at the door as you slowly morph into Alex Mack and slip and slide around the wet and wild conditions of this stage. Prepare to get weird.

2. Its only $89. Thats not even a pair of Lee Jeans which end up fraying on you anyway. That is literally 4.25 packs of ciggies if you buy them from the petrol station. $89 is like a meal at the cowrie. An entree, probably- I don't know, Ive never eaten there as I have been to poor. BUT GUESS WHAT! I am unemployed and I am still not poor enough to miss out on Mountain Sounds Festival.

MOUNTAIN SOUNDS FESTIVAL WEBSITE

3. It is located in our home town. THE CENNY COAST M8! When do we ever have anything happening here ever? Let alone something as fucking amazing as this festival. YOU CAN EVEN BRING YOUR OWN COUCH. What? Get your pointer fingers off their lazy chip snacking asses and make them click their way onto Ticketbooth to nail down one of those tix.

4. Chances are, some of your mates are actually playing. Be a mate. Grab a ticket and show some support for the guy who has most likely spotted you a scooie at one time or another. The festival boasts some of the freshest acts out there at the moment, and they are all home grown.

5. What a way to spend a weekend. The silly season is well and truly over, admit it. I know we are all clutching at "the cheapest bottle of plonk on your menu please", so why not have one last hurrah before getting stuck into 2014? Mountain Sounds Festival is the ultimate post summer cure. Did I mention it is meant to be 29 degrees and sunny that day? I just don't think sitting at home watching season after season of Grey Anatomy is going to cut it on the 15th. I just dont.


So go on.
Stop putting this shit off.
Get yourself a ticket to Mountain Sounds Festival RIGHT NOW.
Because according to my sources, tickets are almost sold out.

SOLD OUT.

fuck.


GET TICKETS HERE!!!

Monday, March 3, 2014

MEGAN WASHINGTON 'WHO ARE YOU' OFFICIAL AUDIO


I remember the first time I heard Washington's voice. It was at the tail end of a Spicks and Specks episode that I just happened to flick onto on my nightly remote surf.

What I heard was enough to stop anyone in their tracks. It was like the first time I heard The Beatles.

She has the voice of an angel who is making giant cupcakes on a fairy floss cloud of emotions. She is a stunning vocalist and talented performer, and here is her new track 'Who Are You'.

It is filled with strumming acoustics and choral vocals, set to whisk you away into the heavens with its innocence, charm, and gentle vibes.

Find more about Megan Washington HERE


Thursday, February 13, 2014

SHIT TO DO ON VAL DAY



FOR THE LONELY HEARTS

You need to get your friends together and get fucking DRUNK. As luck has it, V Day is on a Friday this year! HOORAY! See, mid week revellers of Valentines usually have the market sewn up with their candlelit dinners, and Sarah McLachlan playlists- but NOT THIS YEAR!
While the lovers are out eating overpriced Thai food, gifting each other with Ped Eggs (to make the spooning smoother), and inevitably passive aggressively fighting about how they both hate each other's friends. Meanwhile....YOU ARE SINGLE ON A FRIDAY! Go out, take a pack of ribbed doms with you, and hopefully a crisp 50 dollar note. This will be all you need to get presumably wasted.
If you prefer to wallow in your own misery/hilarity, watch the latest season of The Bachelor online illegally and slowly pluck away those brain cells much as you would reserve for plucking away the talons of a daisy, scream crying, "HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME NOT!"

FOR THE LOVERS

Whether you have recently shacked up, or you are well and truly on your way to bickering over which avocado is ripest in the fruit section of Coles. You are lovers. Pity Valentines Day is in February for us Australians who have to deal with pretty scorching summers, while those Northies get to use this time to snuggle up and take contrived black and white selfies of each other, with just a HINT of nipple showing. Down UNDA we have to sweat on each other as we lovers rip the sheets from one another and bargain about who should turn the fan velocity up a notch. Set yourself a picnic, but for Christ's sakes use it as an excuse to get rip roaring drunk in public with your significant other. That is what I'll be doing while hi-fiving that we made it to another Valentines Day without selling each other's kidneys on the black market.

FOR THE LOOONG TERM RELATIONSHIPS

I feel like these guys are going to be the ones clogging the Instagram feeds tomorrow, with the lonely hearts following a close second with all of their ironic banter and SORRY NOT SORRY, LONG HAIR DONT CARE bullshit. Fucking spare me. However, the long term-ers are usually the most annoying and high pitched on days like V Day. The old "just made a bouquet of flowers out of my tears and our ripped up bedspread that we bought together from Ikea" post. Or you will have the "Here is a bowl of blueberry encrusted muesli I made for my love with a non-alcoholic Mimosa". FUCK ME. No hate to all the people in long term relationships, GOOD ON YOU dude. You have made it past the honeymoon period and you have stuck around for ages, and shit seems to be working. If it aint broke, why fix it? You guys will probably enjoy Valentines more than any other, or at least the prettiest one under 'X-PRO II'. Im kidding...

FOR THE PEOPLE JUST STILL SORTING OF WORKING IT OUT

Are we? Aren't we? There is no better way to ruin/define a relationship than Valentines Day. I remember once I relied on V Day to define a relationship by the merit of whether or not I would indeed get the kitten toy that said "I think you're PUUURRRfect" from Hot Dollar. Needless to say, my Valentines Day was devoid of pussy, but did feature some dick. LUCKY ME! I say you young loves enjoy yourselves and don't count on getting a hot dollar pussy. Or maybe do? Go out for drinks (WHY THE FUCK ARE ALL OF MY TIPS RELATED TO GETTING PISSED?) and then go home to one of your parent's houses and discover some nooks and unexplored crannies you never knew you had. V Day may be a great time to introduce some sex toys, you know, to take the pressure off?


FOR EVERYONE ELSE

Call me! Lets hang!

Thursday, January 30, 2014

CASE OF THE EX


There is truth to the statement that it is hard to be friends with an ex. Its not impossible, out of the 6 billion I have, I think I can truly say I am friends with one. It was a long road, but well worth walking in order to salvage a phenomenal friendship.

As someone who is and knows a majority of chicks who have to see their ex-whatevers out and about roaming around in the harsh daylight of failed relationships, I can tell you that it is hard. Toxic, even.

You feign smiles, shake hands, and pretend that you haven't tried to remember what it was like to kiss them.

In the deep dark recesses of unemployment, I have taken to illegally watching The Real World which just so happens to be about a bunch of extremely immature American people, put together in a house with complete strangers, only to be crashed by all of their exes. (When I re-read this, I truly understood how tragic this sounds)

The reaction is much like a possum when it realises a predator is around. Stunned, and with a complete stop to all physical motion. This reaction has much to be said about when you see an ex out and about.

How do you act? What do you say? Why is it still so fucking awkward after so many years? You used to be inside of me and now we act like we both speak separate languages that can only be translated with shifty looks and sipping of vodka pineapples.

I understand that when a relationship eventually ends that the aftermath is usually raw and eye contact is something that can produce dry retching. But years down the line, why is it still so hard to see an ex?

I dont know about anyone else, but when I am talking to someone I have been intimate with, I always have a little voice in the back of my mind that says "He has seen your boobs", then I giggle.

Is it a leftover symptom of the awkward teenage years that we carry on reluctantly into adulthood that we can't acknowledge the existence of an ex for the sheer fact that they might make their MSN name a coded diss towards you or your personal hygiene?

Unless you guys ended up in a brawl with a restraining order making it illegal for you to be in the same vicinity, then why does it have to be so hostile? Cant we all just get along?

& what about when people make your business, theirs? Then what, you have even more people you have to duck and dodge in the hope that you can just have your after beery kebab in peace.

As a perpetual ex-girlfriend, I try and accept the inevitable for what it is- a glorious experience where you got to know someone really intimately and pretty much didn't go for it, it ended. You had sex with each other. They picked you a flower. They told you that you danced like a fucking idiot. You told them they were a fucking idiot. You might have enjoyed the ride as well. But for some reason, things didn't mesh. The timing was off. You were boring. Or they were. Who really gives a fuck anymore.

They always say the hardest part about being an ex is seeing your ex with someone new. But honestly, it doesn't bother me like it used to. I want the best for my exes. I want them to have what I couldn't give them, whether that be some new babe or taking off into the sunset with nothing but themselves. It doesn't really make a difference.

Moral of the story is that it is fucking hard being an ex. So much so, that if you are in a new relationship now, the ex should not even be a worry to you. Unless she keeps buzzing around, acting hurt. Because the beautiful part about relationships is learning shit- and according to experience, that shit means he is still fucking her.

YAY!

Friday, November 22, 2013

E L L E N .

Now I haven't done an appreciation post in over 2 years.
Maybe I was just saving it until now.
Maybe it took this long to find the words to put together in homage to one of my absolute closest mates that I will ever come across in my life.
How do I even know that you may ask?
You might meet someone even better than Ellen...

ITS FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE, TRUST ME.

There are some people who sweep into your life like a gust of wind that lights up a sky before a storm.
This wasn't one of those moments.

It wasn't like a soft breeze, a timid change in the weather.
Ellen hit me like a lightning bolt and ever since being electrocuted with her subtle blonde locks, I have never been the same!

Sometimes you meet people at the most unexpected of times. This was one of those times, her and Carly thudded into my life like a giant suitcase filled with an extraordinary amount of clothes that we didn't need.

Ever since that chance meeting, that just so happened that they clicked on the Topdeck confirmation button at the same time as me, my life has changed forever!

I will always hold the Queensland moments close to my heart.
If there ever was or ever will be a time where I felt more free in my life I will never know.
We smoked cigarettes off balconies, sighed in unison and cried at the thought of a departing flight on a Tiger Airways death plane.

We ran faster than a rabid shopping trolley on a path of destruction and stayed up way past our bedtimes, watching the scorching QLD sun reach its peak.

The noisy sleeping bag, the rock hard tits of Sammy Jo.

My big back, the corona bucket at Beenleigh Superdrome.

Watching Flight of Concords while your mum ironed.

NYE 2010- in the back alley as midnight struck.

Drinking litres of lambrusco over terry steak.

SPLENDOUR IN THE GRASS 2011/2012

Phone calls from the other side of the world.

Singing 'Bad Girl' by Usher through the streets of Surry Hills after a massive pasta dinner

"Who's Hayley?"

"Who the fuck is Travis?"

hip-hop, wine and Mitt

Muriel's Wedding tour.

That massive sausage at that cafe at The Rocks

I could go on and on. See you today darlin, HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY.

Now this may not be a poem that I am going to read out later tonight, but I am completely genuine in saying that if it weren't for you my life would be a trillion times more fucked.

I LOVE YA!

Thursday, October 31, 2013

YOUR MID 20S: A RETROSPECTIVE.

You know what? I feel really fucking sorry for all these fucking kids nowadays who have jack shit to look up to or enjoy. I dont give a shit if I sound over the hill in that previous sentence either.

I was born in 1988 and at the time The Pretty Woman Soundtrack was going off and people had just started to see the effects of cocaine on business savvy execs. This is what I assume anyway.

Now while we may have had an embarrassing childhood with the likes of Devon Sawa and Melissa Joan Hart (which no matter how hard you try, I will never see Clarissa Explains It All as a fucking fashion icon- I will not wear one of those god forsaken floppy hats you can get fucked), but I will tell you what, I will never take back those formidable years of a young woman's life- also known as the Teenage years.

For me, it was around 2001-2006 in which I would consider myself a "teenager". 19 is such a bullshit age and you can guarantee every fuckwit 19 year old right now is saying,

"THIS IS THE LAST YEAR OF EVER BEING A TEENAGER!"

I did it, you did it too.

But the sad news for those with breast buds in the year of 2013 is the likes of Miley Cyrus' shaved puss pulsating in your face, re-tweeting shit quotes with ambiguous referencing, Instagramming their lunch box or measuring the likes they get on their physical appearance or intelligence. There is shite TV, Skrillex is a cunt and you don't need to be on a diet.

Once again, I am assuming this.

I believe I have achieved that ripe age of 25 where I am delusional in the fact that I believe that I am over the hill and can reflect fondly on the time I had as a teenager.

You remember that time right? JUST on the cusp of when the Black Eyed Peas sold out, you remember legitimately being/seeing emos, you were a Marissa or a Summer or a Seth or a Ryan or a Sandy Cohen (maybe that was just me?) Anyway, here is my compilation of some of the best shit that ever came out from when I first started smooching dudes and dry humping:


1. MURDER INC

We had Ali G In Da House which allowed the INC to be shown in true boombastic form. Here I would like to show you my myriad of Ja Rule feat Ashanti songs that have a dear spot in my heart but I will have to just settle with one (had to go the explicit version too):




2. UNWRITTEN LAW/ DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL

I remember spending many a summer evening driving around Saratoga and Kincumber listening to Dash loudly and singing every word like my life were to end if I dropped the melancholy note. Every single lyric seemed to penetrate your soul and completely relate to every aspect of your life. Feelings were just felt so much harder back then! Or at least thats what we told ourselves as we clutched our silver goon bags to our chest and fled The Shark Tower with red tongues, stained from cheap underage alcohol concoctions.

UP ALL NIGHT- UNWRITTEN LAW

HANDS DOWN- DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL



3. THE OC


We found out kids were getting just as fucked up as we were although we didn't have daddy's range rover to high tail it round to our dealer's house. Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley would always remind us of a burning Mega Mansion and if we ever needed to impress a girl we learned we could tell the chick that we, "stole a car....crashed it".

Death Cab For Cutie were put on our turquoise Ipod mini's which took us 6 months to properly figure out how the fuck to use.

We yearned for a modern day love story much like Marissa and Ryan and Volcheck and Johnny and that other weird guy who hosted the NYE bash and Finley Quaye's 'Dice' magically swayed our brains for the rest of our existence. We all picked who we were. We fucking did, don't deny it.

We will forever be reminded of when Trey got shot when Imogen Heap's song, 'Hide & Seek' plays.
We want to secretly go to T.J to O.D in an alley.

And when Marissa died it was the talk of the town over choc chip muffins and off oranges.

The OC will always be a mirage of what was, and we still hope Ryan stayed on the straight and narrow with his construction job and try and forget when Summer went all hippie. This is real people, and you know it to be true.


4. INCUBUS

A great majority of my friends have been to an Incubus concert, and a great majority still name them as one of their all time favourite bands.

MORNING VIEW MAN! You can't tell me you didn't ponder about which subjects to choose for your senior years without having at least one session to Aqueous Transmission?

We all relate to the five-piece like they were our older brothers, fashioning the perfect make out session and the ultimate alternative rock to find yourself to. Even I wanted to take up surfing and get a koi fish tattoo to show my utter devotion to the band.



5. THE OPEN HOUSE PARTY

Remember these? I think Corey Worthington personally ruined this notion for future generations. I remember being told about these shin digs and taking them completely seriously. Open House? I will be there whether or not I have ever seen the host's face before or not.

Drinking disgusting pre packaged bourbons and kissing the dudes at the party who most resembled Brandon Boyd.

The dude who was drinking passion pop and eventually found an acoustic guitar out of nowhere only to start strumming 'Cailin' by Unwritten Law or 'Wonderwall' by Oasis.

Lying to your parents about alcohol and even stashing the remnants in the bushes of your front yard in a back pack, thinking that somehow the backpack will take on the colours of the shrubbery like some sort of cloth chameleon.

Swilling from goon sacks and dancing to Paul Kelly. The weirdo who gets serious and draws a weapon. The constant threat of "THE COPS" and 6 packs of double blacks.

Before Facebook had events, we were running with word of mouth which produced some of the most thumping box socials the Coast had ever seen. Somehow we got our hands on underage alcohol and there was ALWAYS a fight, or at least talk of a fight.

A time for the potent potion of adolescence to collide and drink pre mixed lemony drinks with the pure intention of fucking with the law. Driving recklessly on your red P's and listening to anything but house music. Cheezels and snakes were always out on a sogged plastic tablecloth and for some reason, that staple always rang true. We were so bad ass.


Ahhh....the good ol days.