Sunday, May 9, 2010

Anatomically Incorrect Barbie Does a Bad Bad Thing.

An Ode To Mother on Mothers Day: Or Why I Don't Camp.

Hi Mum, Happy mother's day. Remember this one – our first castle? How's the serenity?

Remember when the tornado came, and hurled the house away, and I ran off with that dingo and found some weird arse friends who were looking for courage, heart, and braaaaains? There was a whole bunch of little people jumping up and down, squeaking weirdly and telling us to follow some gilt road to a green city where we would meet some odd dude with superhuman powers, that could get us home. Then I returned home really sick with a horrible fever... oh wait, no, shit, that was the Wizard of Oz.

Or a really strong mushroom trip.

Funnily enough, I do remember watching that movie in our first castle, on our old black and white TV, tucked up in your bed (the view was better from the loft), a bit sickly and feeling sorry for myself. And you were there, (looks around) and you were there, (looks around) - and you ... nope, that was it.

On the upside, our castle was a total upgrade from the army tent we were living in. Which probably wouldn't have weathered too many more of those nasty tornados.

This mother, is unfortunately why I wont camp - EVER. That and the shovel being the toilet hole digger with tobacco leaves used as toilet paper.

But what a sweet, and innocent and weird ass time huh? Those were the days. The bits I remember started forming me as the person I am today (for better or worse). These are good memories that we can laugh about.

We did have that pet snake for a bit of course, and that crazy fucking neighbour with his shotgun, weimaraner dog, and the bitch of a wife who peed into jars. Could have done without them, she was nasty... *looks around* and he was pretty fucking crazy.

But look at me in that photo, how proud am I looking out our new castle? I love you mum, you're brazilliant. Happy mothers day, and no I wont go camping probably ever again. I like hot running water, and flushing toilets. Fridges and mod cons. Internet and media sharing. Aircons and shops close enough to walk to to buy cigarettes at. What a ponsie wuppie I have become.

You, how ever, much braver than me. Fuckin onya mumsy. *Applauds*

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Glorious Blood

Weird photo shoot that I have been wanting to do for ages. The total anti glamour shit, being disgusting and rolling around in 5 liters of pigs blood, with entrails, and miscarrying squid, chopped up fishy bits, and pork ribs, or ribs of some dead thing and watermelon, and yoghurt, and milk and baby oil... it all came strangely together.

I think I have been watching way to many Dargento and Romero films, with WAAAAAAAAAAAAAY too much horror blood and guts.

After about 5 washes and 3 shampoos I was still finding bits of fish gizzards in my hair.

Dao was the best though. What other crazy arse chic would go down to the
thai food market a day before hand and start pre ordering pigs blood "5 Litre please".

Her line was consistently "I think we need more Blood Andy".

Slaughterhouse Romance

Look Into My Eyes.

Therapy Doesn't Work.