Astounding!!.
Stoked!!, i’ve been banned by Gloria Jeans coffee from their site and Facebook page, due to my well thought out, and non inflamatory responses to some posts on their wall, that took to task the Gay communities right to question Gloria Jeans support of harmful, anti gay fundementalist organisations.
I’m in good company as they banned anyone that had a counter argument that made sense, or even had a whiff of logic attached to it. I guess this is proof positive that Gloria Jeans really is a company steeped in disingenuous principles, and the fetid air of censorship and control.
Now, all i need is to get the Rev Fred Phelps and his crew from the Westbro Baptist Church to picket outside my house, and i’ll be off the scale credible! 🙂
Excellent concert, Gaga was great, pity about the shit staging that obstructed everyones view (besides the main stage which was spectacular).
Perhaps the highlight (because it was such a lowlight) was the most heinous, pathetic, dire support act i’ve ever had the misfortune to experience. “Lady Beryl” or “Lady Sharon” or whatever the fuck their name was had to be a joke, and a piss take of the highest order. I’ve seen drag shows where the Queens on stage have taken a whole box of Rohypnol, shit their pants, suffered a minor prolapse, fallen over, pissed in a punters middy glass and told everyone to flat out fuck off, that were more entertaining than Gaga’s support act. Other than that, top night.
I can’t begin to explain why, but i’ve always had a facination for, and collected mechanical, motorised dogs.
Recently during a clean up of my computer i found these two short movies i’d made of my ‘Electro pets’ (The clips can be found at the bottom of this post highlighted in red).
My favorite is the second clip showing my favorite dog ‘Samson’, sadly as you can see in the movie he has two broken hind legs, Samson was my best trick electro dog, and used to be able to do summersaults, that is until my mate Adam decided the pooch should try summersaulting from the top of a high cupboard.
Unfortunately Sampson only executed one jump before landing on the cement floor, shattering his electro pelvis.
The ‘Ping’ noise you hear is his nethers engaging electronicly to flip him over, sadly with no feeling, or functioning mechanics below the waist, the most he could muster was a stunted, slight bounce.
Tragicaly Samson has now gone to the electro dog house in the sky, after succumbing to poisoning due to a battery leak.
I can just see me riding down King St Newtown on this, pulling up outside Gelatomassi, and getting a double scoop from Ciccio.
Click the below highlighted link to be mezmerised by the Pollys dance floor as Amarillo is played.
It was Pollys time again, and May is always my favorite dance, it’s a lot cooler after summer, but not so cold that it takes the shine (or anything else) from any amorous advances by frisky minx’s.
At tonights dance a friend brought along a lovely country lad, he’d never been out in Sydney before, he’d never been to anything ‘Gay’, so of course there is only one way to herald the arrival of a new wide eyed (not sure about bushy tailed) community member into the wonderous world of Gay Sydney, and that was to plonk him slap bang in front of a Pollys drag show.
The ‘Prisoner’ theme was lost on the poor lad, being as he’d been born during the 20th rerun season, the words ‘Vinegar tits’ and ‘Lizzie’ were totally lost on the wide eyed lad .. but not on me.
Seconds before the show started i raced to the front with my friend Beryl, we pushed the infirm and bewildered aside to make sure we were front and centre.
And what a show it was!, a steam press over to stage right had me dreaming of all the peoples heads i’ve long fantasized about shoving between those steamy boards, and cackling like Bea Smith as i give them a good old “PSSSSSSSSSHHHHHH”.
Better yet, over the back of the stage was a replica industrial clothes dryer, before long a Pollys cast member was thrown in, and the door slammed shut behind her, i could almost hear Lizzies cackle echo through the hall.
The show to ‘Jailhouse rock’ had me clicking my fingers like a hep cat, but once ‘Elvis’ launched himself into the crowd, and then flipped himself back up onto the stage, causing a major wardrobe malfunction, which revealed more crack than you’d find in a customs officers personal work locker, i was clicking more than just my fingers, it was an excellent recovery by the Elvis chaneller, and only those of us in the front row were treated to the true splendor of this anal-esque slip up.
As ever there were one or two surprises with Pollys, once the shows were over, and the house lights had come back on, out of the corner of my eye i noticeed movement on the stage, my reflexes had me lift my camera up instictively, just in time to see the industrial clothes dryer begin to rock, then to crash on it’s side, disgourging the forgotten cast member who sadly missed the finale .. but that’s art for you.
Of course stymying a dance floor revolution, the DJ queued up Amarillo, a good thing too, my nostrils were flaring this night, i simply wouldn’t have coped if they didn’t play my anthem. I must be getting a reputation for my passion, my frenzied moves to this song, as Miss Kitty came up behind me on the dance floor and purred ‘There, happy now?’
Yes, thank you Miss Kitty, VERY happy.
Postscript .. last time i looked, wide eyed country boy had retreated towards the back of the hall, clutching at imaginary pearls. I can’t be certain, but i think it was the emotion of Miss Joans reading of ‘Tie a yellow ribbon’ and the shower of streamers, that all became too much for the poor lad, i know it moved me to tears.
With love and thanks as always, to all who organize, and perform at Pollys, giving Miss Tammy here a reason to kick up her heels .. if not her ankles.
xoxo
Some believe there is nothing one man or one woman can do against the enormous array of the world’s ills — against misery, against ignorance, or injustice and violence. Yet many of the world’s great movements, of thought and action, have flowed from the work of a single man. A young monk began the Protestant reformation, a young general extended an empire from Macedonia to the borders of the earth…, and a young woman reclaimed the territory of France. It was a young Italian explorer who discovered the New World, and 32 year old Thomas Jefferson who proclaimed that all men are created equal. ‘Give me a place to stand,’ said Archimedes, ‘and I will move the world.’ These men moved the world, and so can we all.
Robert F. Kennedy, 1968.
What does Julia say?, ‘i don’t believe in it’, what does Abbott say?, ‘No’. I’d say politics, and the level of inspiring political leadership in the world, has sunk to just below the level of the pointy end of a turkey turd.
You can have the ripped muscles, you can wear a funny hat, you can even strike a pose, but nothing is going to stop people’s eyes from wandering to the piss spot on your pink tights . . AWESOME 🙂
