Cause I'm just a boy.

Oh goody, the hysteria is back. Sex And The City 2 is about to open and I am less than eager to run screaming in my feather boa to see it. Maybe I am lacking the required estrogen to feel all heart fluttery about it but I thought the last movie was kinda good but pretty average too. I liked Miranda and Steve’s wandering genitals storyline and the scenes of Carrie completely devastated post wedding disaster with her friends rallying around her were genuinely touching. But what the hell was that whole ‘Let’s get back together cause your in my closet’ thing with Big. That just sucked, after all that navel gazing and eating-yogurt-in-bed C-Bradshaw just hitched up her $40,000 hemline and jumped back on his parade float. Stoopid. If I did that my friends would beat me so pulpy, you could box me and call me orange juice.

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVED the series. Loved. It was cutting, well written and observant. It also freaked me out how many times I thought ‘cripes that happened to me’, I don’t get that from True Blood. Though I did know someone who liked to bite a bit too much. Anyway I digress.

It seems to me the series closed on a good note, left the future open to interpretation. Carrie skips off down the avenue in her road kill fur and all of womanhood was at peace. AHA, but you would wrong and now the movies are driving a stake into your fanciful memories.

That is bad enough but seriously though what is the deal with the castrated males in their ‘Movie’ lives. Sure, men in the TV show have always been set pieces to be reacted off and shagged upon, but the guys they each ended up with were quite interesting. They had opinions and challenged the foursome. But now in the cinematic version the guys have become sterilized and seem more like handbags to be dragged out the cupboard for A) Wedding scene B) Birth scene as the father might have actually been involved in the whole conception think I think C) Supportive super husband D) Cheater, liar, candlestick maker who makes good in the end. To me this is a bit of lost opportunity.

SATC was always about the friendships, sex/relationships followed closely, in that context you could see the complexity of the characters and women in general. They did that with the key paramours, but why have they suddenly become so dull in the movie. Now they are shagged, married and breed from they are to be popped on the couch with a pat on the head - Their story is over, now they are owned.

Thus setting up a not very realistic nor responsible view of guys, I know I am not the market (or am i?!) but this shows men in two lights, boring one dimensional “yes dear, whatever you say dear’ husband or the dashing cad. This is part of broader issue I seem to see lately in which men are shown in media and advertising as sex crazed twats, cuckold lazy husband who would die without their smart wives or family ignoring sports fanatics who can’t multitask. Hmm.. annoying, I can multitask quite well and I am sure last time I looked I could buy detergent without a housewife leaping from behind the potatoes to scold me off for not buying ‘Shazam!’.

This annoys me cause if you tried today to pigeonhole women as cleaning, obsessed, baby making, naggy, airhead housewives you could pretty much count the seconds before having your nads strung up the nearest flagpole and A Current Affair chasing you with cameras outside your house. This double standard is rather glaring, but for the most part, largely ignored.

Not surprising, as all the surveys and cleaning commercials would lead you to believe we are all worried about getting laid, watching sport and being patronized for making non efficient purchases. So who has time really!?

Heineken released a "survey" this week, that said 90% of men talked about football over all else with their mates. Utter crap, I don’t remember being asked what I talked about with mates. It is also highly suspect as Heineken is sponsoring the upcoming Football World Cup in South Africa, so sounds like a very orchestrated PR line. Nevertheless this reinforces a rather patronizing and recurring stereotype.

Not really sure what to define this as, post feminist emasculation? Fuck knows, all I know it shits me.

Anyway, I hope that 'SATC2: Lawrence of a Labia' will have a more balanced view of the men but alas I doubt it. After seeing the trailer, Big seems bed bound, Adrian is purely there as the protagonist for Carrie’s marriage doubts, Steve will look after the ginger child somewhere, The hairy lawyer will just nod and grin like all good husbands should and Samantha’s loins will gobble all and sundry. I guess you can take comfort in repetition, but how much longer will the cupcake buying, shoe drooling, high speed walking SATC clones continue to like the movies once the icing goes decidedly funkier than Mr Funky Spunk.

But who cares right, I am just a guy.

UPDATE: SATC2 is getting some absolutely filthy reviews in movie land for being empty of soul and high on anti-Muslim material. Oohh not good peeps. Could the bedazzled cash cow that is the SATC franchise finally have snapped a heel? Read two reviews here and here. They are obviously off 'The Gals' Xmas Card list now me thinks.

Pop off!

What is the deal with adult acne outbreaks!?

Blooming knicker storm people, in the past couple of weeks I have had a rather annoying spot explosion and it has been driving me bonkers. At first I thought I was from the rather sweaty summer but as the weather cooled my zits seemed to become totally renegade. What is the deal? I am now safely in my thirties now and thought I had left a majority of my pimples behind in high school. But the dermo fairy had obviously waved her oil wand and said a wee trip back to adolescence might be wonderful.

Don’t get me wrong, I have been lucky with my skin with no real issues and even in my teen years I managed to navigate around any huge pus invasions. My break outs are always stress related it seems, in 1992 my nose staged its own high school production of The Last Days Of Pompeii, with it's own My Vesuvius replica. I sat in the back field with my Slazenger school bag over my head until it went away. The funny thing is all it takes is one major zit to cause the rest of your face to utterly freak out! I never knew my skin was a total pansy, who hitches up skirts and ran for the nearest nunnery when the pimple gang comes to town.

The reason I got a bit miffed by his is that I really take care of my skin, I cleanse, I moisturise. I may do a face mask on Saturday evenings before going out and I have enjoyed more than a few facials. I like taking care of it, so that’s why this incursion huffed me so. How dare my skin rebel like this, I have a friend Adrian who does nothing to his skin..its so annoying and he is fine even though someone told him he had the eyes of a 40 year old the other day.

40 year old eyes aside, my 15 year old style face tizzy has started to calm. Through gentle cleansing and a whack of Salicylic Acid, thanks Neutrogena. Though this shit is HARSH, so that will go back in the emergency draw after I have declared a cease fire with my pores.

Meet my new husband..

We met on a dark and stormy night, I lost my bus ticket and he found found my heart. Norbert and I are getting married at the Bondi Junction Bus Station at 4.20pm (in between his change counting before the 4.30 departure of the 251 to Lane Cove). Come. Dress theme is bus maps meets death metal dentists.

Small question....

where are her friggin nipples!????

Nudist crushes spiders house, Spider bites Man's willy.

"Forget the flies, show me the spam javelin"

Damn don't mess with a kiwi spider, especially when your naked butt crushes its house. As a Canadian tourist found after he took a nudie swim in the far north and then fell asleep on a cozy sand dune.

Problem is NZ sand dunes are high density apartments living for upwardly mobile Katipos spiders, the only poisonous animal in the country. Bum Luck...haw haw..see what i did there? Anyway, the Canuck awoke with a swollen pee pee, severe headaches and vomiting. Sounds like a the result of a night at a backpacker bar with a German girl called Helga to me.

See the full story here, fanks SMH.com.au

This is apparently the first case of a Katipo causing such a bad reaction, as they usually spend most their time knitting and watching re-runs of Kiwi Idol not biting tourists pork swords. Charlottes Web this is not.

Lady spider must have had a bitch pill that day. Anyhoo hope the moose lover feels better soon.

Are smokers the new junkies?

"Have you seen these people?"

Have you noticed that smoking has become the new social faux pas, these days you more likely to see people sparking up next to a garbage bin in the rape alley behind the bar, or hiding furtively by a tree trying to garner as little attention as possible whilst flaming their death sticks. Remember not so long ago smokers actually proudly lit up in bars, threatening to singe your clothing, set fire to your hair and dry up your lungs. I for one am glad I don’t come home anymore smelling like I have been sleeping in an ashtray since last Tuesday and I find it much more helpful that I no longer wake up in the morning to find a yellow burn hole in my new shirt made by some shitfaced overtly gesticulating Emo.

But since the new laws have come in, smokers are the persona non grata for a new millennium, like door to door salesmen and those party poopers over at the binge drinking council. Every morning I am frightened by what I think is a bloody thirsty meth addict hiding in a fire escape about to stab me with a Bic ballpoint pen, but when I look I discover they are just your average office workers getting their fix before a big day. It’s unnerving and kind of sad, why not give up?

I know it’s easy for me to blab on about giving up, wah wah. But it’s true, admit it people…almost everyone started smoking cause it looked cool not because they actually like the taste of carbonized chemicals flooding their lungs. Now smoking if def not cool and your now a social pariah, the old drunk on the street who wet his pants and is dancing to “Let’s get physical” has a lot more street cred than your average smoker. Don’t even get me started on the sex thing, My friend Adrian has made it clear several times that as soon as you see someone hot smoke, they slip waaaay down rungs on the ‘Come and Do-Me ladder’.

Let’s put aside - if you can - the stinky breath, yellow fingers, the cats bum mouth pucker and lips that taste like Chernobyl Organic Veges. Who wants to date someone who is fully prepared to cough up (literally even) for cigarettes that are getting more and more expensive, that’s money they could spend on flowers and dancing monkeys for me. Also I would like a partner who won’t burn the sheets, burn me and could drop dead from black lung at any moment. Also you will save money by not having your partner turbo steam cleaned with the furnishings when your parents come over.

That’s going in the too hard basket. I prefer to keep my addictions perfect and normal - like drinking, eating butter sticks and hookering.

Oh dear maybe thats where i am going wrong...

From Engrish

Look who found their old face again!

I know these images were released last week I think…. But it took me a while to sit on this blog entry and figure out what to say.

All I can say is ole Madge is looking…good again. Not sure what she has done but gone are the puffy cheek injections and uncomfortable Botox lips. This odd work has faded to a comfortable level to reveal her old face. These images from her shoot with Interview Magazine are amazing, very Rizzo meets psycho ex nun with a crucifix fetish. Though the interview with Gus Van Sant is pure verbal masturbation, I am just stunned at how wicked she looks. Wicked in a ‘great’ way, not in a green witch “I’ll get you and your little dog too” kind of way. She even left her knickers mark on the picture to say ‘hey world, not photo shopped’, I am sure there has been a few magic wands waved here and there but for the most part looks pretty natural.

She looks like good old Madonna again and without any obvious photo shop fun, she no longer looking like some possessed crotch thrusting Madame Tussard waxwork of herself, which I am now lobbying as the real reason Madge seemed a bit odd of late. Poor dear must have locked herself in the basement whilst this doppelganger terrorized the world with a rather sophomoric album, paraded around on stage looking like an emaciated Balinese cat in a blond weave and rekindled a relationship with that bore Gwyneth Paltrow……..*snooooorrrrrrrrrreee*…….sorry I nodded off but that’s what she does to me. I am going to blame the divorce, broken hearts make you act like a freak and you look like shit.

Anyhoo, I feel like I have been fighting with Madge for a while. Like a wily teen I have stormed off to my bedroom more than a few times and screamed “I hate you” at the top of my lungs. Her last album really did suck for the most part, the last tour was tired, the pillow face was just awful and that crazy appearance on the Britney documentary! I just threw up in my mouth a little.

But she had redeemed herself of late, with a mostly quiet and dignified divorce, some hilarious toy boy action and the adoptions. Malawi-gate was a real storm in a sports cup for me, still surprised how it indescribably crippled newspapers for weeks and caused many an ill informed house wife to clutch her pearl necklace and spray Aeroguard in horror - what’s the problem really??! A rich lady wanting to adopt poverty stricken children..jeez people, just chill.

Anyway, add to that the new (old) face and word that Madge is holding off on recording a new album for a while but she could look at working with A-Trak when it happens, who is just an awesome DJ and so edgy, so I may start to be a fan again. Word to the wide though, it’s a different music world now, Lady Blah Blah is stomping about setting fire to pianos left right and centre, best take some time and do it right than doing it wrong again I think.

A + for effort, though must try harder to restrain contact with blond macrobiotic newsletter writing actresses and crotch thrusting.