Inspired signage, inspired by Miss Slough 2007

Miss Slough just posted a "no fouling" sign on her blog. I agree - they're mighty special things.

There was a most brilliant bit of signage in Kings Cross a few weeks ago, but sadly it was removed before I could photograph it. Right next to the El Alamein Fountain is one of those brilliant touristy directional signs. The one that reads: New York 15768km Moscow 13600km etc. Well, some inspired person from Sydney City Council added an extra arrow sign which read: Toilets.

A bonus was that it pointed directly into the fountain. Only in Kings Cross.

Indeed, only in Kings Cross... The other night, a guy died of a drug overdose on the footpath in front of me. And I don't exaggerate either. I arrived at the spot at the same time as three policemen, who checked his pulse and said "he's dead". Sad.

Peter, Bjorn and John at the Metro...

Totally rocked out! No photos, I'm afraid. But I can offer you this text message, as proof that the mortgage is starting to take effect on my bank account. It was sent to C when I realised I couldn't afford two bottles of Becks at the bar. Augh! What is the world coming to???

But beyond lack of beer funds, this was a brilliant gig. Three very cute Swedish guys playing 20-minute hard rock versions of their normally sweet, folkish songs. (Coincidentally, Peter is the cutest, followed by John. Sorry, Bjorn!).

Three drunk and beautiful Swedish girls, drinking VB from the can with straws, spent the gig rubbing their tanned Swedish bodies on everything male in sight (much to the discomfort of said men). And a photographer from The Brag singled C and I out for photos and insisted I wear my glasses. Should I be flattered? Do I look (as C suggested) more Swedish in my glasses? Hmm.

One downer, however, in the form of a Round-Faced Troll from my past. She used to call me Pimple Queen, if you think my blog name for her is overly harsh. She also did everything in her power to humilate and alienate me through a whole 6 years of high school. I didn't need the help - I was, and am, quite capable of alienating and humiliating myself all on my own.

I feel vaguely better for knowing that she is now a Torts lawyer and on the way to being a barrister. I think she'd look perfect with a horsehair wig perched on the top of her very round head. And I'm sure Pimple Queen is an outstanding name to call people at the Bar.

Does one ever recover from the lingering ache of high school cruelty?

The first appearance of Dr Spruce

My esteemed colleague, Dr Spruce.

This is her "why are you fiddling with your stupid camera phone when we could be playing frisbee?" look. I guess for the uninitiated this could also read as her "I'm a dope and only have half a jaw" smile. But you'd be WRONG.

Dr Werner VonWoof says: Say No To Anger

Miss Slough 2007 posted a fabulous bit of (very helpful) signage on her blog. It's a top-secret blog, but if you want to convince her to let you read it, she's at http://fogchicken.blogspot.com/



Dr VonWoof's take on it...



It's Dr VonWoof's considered opinion that it's high time we had public health and safety warnings about anger. It's far more dangerous than the possibility that wierd silhouette men might steal your children with their evil dogs working as henchmen. Any thoughts on this?

2HAY FM 92.1 Stereo - My favourite NSW rural station

I'm still in a transitional period with the whole dominatrix gig. So my alternate Adult Service gig remains being an advertising art director.

And honestly, who could ask for a cooler job? Today I devoted myself to ringing a cross-section of the 96 NSW radio stations who were dispatched our Australia Day radio spots. Read: Ringing Bumblefuck FM down echoing and often disconnected phone lines x 90. Just to see if anyone actually played it. Futile.

But of course, really it was rewarding. My personal favourite? 2HAY FM who make the bold advertising claim:
"Broadcasting to over 4000 listeners
South to Wanganella
North to Booligal
West to Maude
East to Carrathool and Beyond"

Wanganella? Booligal? You honestly can't script that stuff. And as for "West to Maude". Isn't that just waiting to be turned into the next Thelma and Louise cum Hitchcockian thriller?

I can just see me pitching it to the studio executives:

"West to Maude. An action-packed thriller where, following the accidental milking machine decapitation of a local politician, a man and his niece/wife must smuggle the headless corpse across the state line to Maude on a three-wheeled combine harvester pursued by emus and with the added complication of Ernie Dingo hitching a ride as far as Booligal, who just plain irritates the hell out of them. A true journey of self discovery."

I think it'll be big.

But not as big as the PR frenzy soon to be created by the press ad I'm doing for a local public transport body, who feel that the caricature that they commissioned of a Sikh bus driver "lacks realism and looks a little too multicultural". Hmmm. I'm sure they'd lose their uncertainties if I beat them with a leather belt.

Roll on 5:30pm, hey?

Around the World in 80 Babes

Meet Babe Boiler, our local lothario, who has conceived this most brilliant piece of information design. I have dubbed this "Around the World in 80 Babes".

I'm sure that by now you've figured this out, but in case you remain ignorant, each pin in the map represents... yep... a babe he's bagged. He definitely needs some assistance with the continent of Africa however. All suggestions and invitations are welcome.

So how does one qualify to be Queen of the Gatton Potato Festival anyway?

Miss Slough 2007 says of her fine name "that I may even one day forgive her for referring to me as Miss Slough 2007. For those not in the know, the Australian equivalent is being Queen of the Gatton Potato Festival."

I didn't know that such a prestigious title exists. I thought that only the British could lay claim to being "Queen of Something". I am intrigued and excited by this news. Maybe this is like the Princess Mary thing - I need to meet the handsome Prince of the Gatton Potato Festival at the Slip Inn and get him to make an honest woman of me. Best get my hair done in preparation.

Sorry, Naked Harry Potter, you've been replaced.

Dr Werner VonWoof's Temple To Homo Eroticism

Now that I've got your attention, stand by for the splendid contents of Miss Slough 2007's (aka FogChicken's) Survival Kit No. 1.




For survival of the latter end of a Slough winter Aussie style, this is what was sent over in the adorable tin. The postcards are four visual aids (purely for educational purposes) to explain to the Whingeing and Ignorant poms Australian Fauna and Culture. I imagine the bare-bottomed surfer has gone straight above FogChicken's bed.

Toodle-Pip.

The Failsafe Nigella Lawson Heterosexuality Test

As conceived by Morgan and I, in all its elegant simplicity, The Failsafe Nigella Lawson Heterosexuality Test. Without further ado:

Do you find yourself enjoying watching Nigella Lawson? If you're unfamiliar with the show, simply ask yourself "Does Nigella look attractive in the above photo?"

If you answered yes to either or both questions and are female, well sorry, but... (I edited out everything that followed- it's better that way). Good news is that Mardi Gras is on this Saturday and if you hurry, you can still get on a float.

If you answered yes to either or both questions and are male, well, you're rampantly, hot-bloodedly heterosexual. Just don't expect to have a Nigella of your own any time soon because...

Real non-celluloid women DON'T spend this much time sensually licking fingers, spoons, edibles and passers-by while cooking... ok?

But perhaps we should learn? Get back in the kitchen, girls, and get lickin'. That'll get you a man!

In the absence of Morgan's blog invite... let's talk about... Naked Harry (ooh!)

My very talented and gorgeous friend Space Girl Princess Carla wrote an impassioned piece the other day on how disappointed she is in Britney Spears (http://www.blurty.com/~sgpcarla). So I thought that in the spirit of this, it was time I wrote how impressed I am by Daniel Radcliffe aka Harry Potter. And not impressed in a purely platonic sense, either...

Yes, embarassing admission... and I'm sure this is the final admission that stands between me and losing all credibility (so bye bye credibility, I say). But... Harry Potter naked in Equus??? PHWOAR!!!

If I was in London right now. Oh, if only... I would be panting at the stage door down in the West End. Queuing for the finest seats. And getting Mr Now Naked Harry Potter to sign my breast. Well, perhaps not that... Especially as he is only 18 and all. Of course, I would also visit Miss Slough 2007.

Naked boys and horses? This I like!

And while on the subject of all things erotic (I think I'll have to rename this post Horny Thursday), let's move on to homoerotic, and the very wonderful Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake, which I saw at the Capitol Theatre last Saturday. Astounding that a large troupe of topless buff men in white shag-pile peddle-pushers could leave me me teary-eyed and speechless, but there you go. If I had any doubts concerning my heterosexuality (thankfully not a problem, courtesy of Morgan's and my failsafe Nigella Lawson heterosexuality test- more on this later) they were quickly quelled by the men in shaggy pants. If you have the opportunity, dear reader, and aren't female and same sex oriented, this is a must see! Tchaikovsky's score in unedited glory is mighty-fine too. That was for the cultured readers, if there be any!