Tim and the City

Dear Tim Minchin,

I love you. I would like to marry you and have your children (if we weren't already married and had children and if I still had a womb, which even prior to it's departure didn't prove itself as a capable baby carrying mechanism). Anyhow, I sincerely do love you... your crazy hair and eyeliner and your no shoes and most of all your mind.

I want to have passionate sex with your brain, it's super huge and super sexy.

Best of all you understand my feelings about religion and parenthood and you happen to like boobs (which I happen to have a set of). So (apart from the previously mentioned little problems) I think we could be very happy together.

So there, I think I make a pretty strong case as to why we should get married immediately if not sooner. So I'll start the divorce proceedings from my end and assume you'll do the same. I'll have my people call your people regarding our upcoming wedding. See you there.

With all the love in the empty black void I call my heart, DeepKick Girl

PS After I left your show at the Opera House on Friday night I was on such a high I just floated out with the crowd. I was there on my own (well, with a group of friends from work, but not with Big Jay) and after the show everyone went off home and I drifted along through Circular Quay and bought myself an ice cream (super yummy Chocolate Hazelnut and Wild Cherry, if you must know) and just walked. I had parked in Harrington Street so had a little bit of a walk but I could have walked for hours (if it wasn't for those damned high heels I had stupidly chosen to wear that night).

It was a beautiful cool Autumn Sydney evening, the earlier rain had refreshed the air and it was mild and glorious. I just felt an overwhelming sense of love for my city and at that moment I loved being alone and being able to walk and eat ice cream and look around me and let it all sink in.

Like Anthony says in Under The Bridge "sometimes I feel like my only friend is the city I live in... I drive on her streets 'cause she's my companion, I walk through her hills 'cause she knows who I am". That's how I felt on Friday night, like the city knew who I was; what a wonderful and strange feeling.

How lucky was I for the gift of your mind and your talent and your wit, and a beautiful Sydney night and a tiny opportunity to be alone in the city I love. Not sure what spirituality is but it's close as I'm ever going to get.

Dear Weird Al

or should I call you Mr Yankovic?

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I had one of the best night's of entertainment on Friday at your Enmore Theatre gig. Maybe because I had no expectations (which is always the best place to start, high expectations lead to bigger disappointments) I was blown away! What an amazing night! I was on a high all the way home and that generally only ever happens after a Red Hot Chili Peppers' gig or after the Swans have a big win against a really, really hard team.

You are super funny and super talented and do crazy things with a piano accordion... what a man!

I loved every minute really but the highlights were You're Pitiful (eat shit James Blunt), Canandian Idiot (watch the South Park clip HERE), Amish Paradise ("...tonight we're going to party like it's 1699)... who am I kidding... they were ALL highlights.

It was like the best rock concert and the best comedy gig all rolled into one. A very rare gift indeed.

I took Will and he loved it too. So to end this rather nauseating little letter let me thank you, yet again, on behalf of both of us.

You are a god amongst men and I'm already hanging out for the next time you come Down Under.

Yours truly,
DeepKickGirl

PS I am White and Nerdy, but nowhere near as white and/or nerdy as most of your audience.

Dear Billy

(Connolly),

It's not me, it's you. I used to love you, a lot. You were so funny, I'd come and watch you and laugh and laugh... until my face ached. I'd laugh so hard I'd miss half of what you were saying because I'd be so busy laughing.

When I thought "funny" I thought BILLY CONNOLLY.

I went to see you a couple of weeks ago. I was really looking forward to it (even though the last time I saw you it was at the awful Hordern Pavilion which is a majorly shithouse venue for comedy and we had to sit on the most uncomfortable fold out chairs EVER and I found it insulting to pay 150 bucks to sit on crappy fold out chairs in a barn of a place with non-existant air conditioning - I hope you fired that particular tour manager or whoever is responsible for such things).

This time around you were at the Opera House Concert Hall, one of my favourite places. We ate yummy Vietnamese food in the new funky outdoor food court area. It was all good and I was all set to laugh.

But you just weren't very funny. You did apologise in advance, saying you had the flu, but really I think you may have lost it. I'm not having a go, really. You're getting on, 68 years old I think. I can barely remember yesterday and struggle to string a coherent sentence together so I can't really blame you for not being as sharp as you used to be. It's just that when I pay $150+ per person for a night out I want something special, something WOW, something a little better than mediocre.

It was sad to sit there amongst all these people who clearly adore you and hear them laugh politely, not uproariously like your audiences used to. When I used to think of your name I used to think of laughing so hard I'd wet my pants (just a little bit). This last time I barely raised a smile.

So I'm sorry. It's tough but I'm afraid you are officially dropped. I'll always remember our times together fondly but next time you come out to tour Australia I'll just stay home and think about what we used to have. It's best this way.

Yours truly,
DeepKickGirl

PS Please tell Pamela she looks like a freak.

Nothing Much

Just felt like blogging today but haven't got anything much to write about. Some random thoughts:



* It was Patti Smith's birthday the other day. I don't know much about her - just that I love her song Pissing In The River from the Times Square soundtrack. They played a song of hers which was kind of ska beat and kind of early punk and it was great. When they back announced it it was called Redondo Beach. Whoa. That's where we stayed on our first visit to the US when we had just picked up Will from Guatemala. Redondo Beach - just the name chimes something in my heart. Don't know why. It was a nice place, not touristy but nice. I think it was a suburb in the process of being gentrified; it had that foot in both camps air about it. A marina and a boardwalk filled with closed amusements (that always make me melancholy). Our first encounter with Joe's Crab Shack. Memories. I've downloaded that song from iTunes and I keep playing it. Patti's voice makes me happy and sad. It's a sad song with a happy beat. Here it is on YouTube.



* I've decided to make February Fawlty Feb. I caught half an episode of Fawlty Towers - The Psychiatrist - yesterday and it made me laugh so much. That show has all the answers to all of life's questions. So everyday in February you will get a quote from arguably the best situation comedy every made. It might not answer all your life questions but it will hopefully give you a giggle.



* I've decided to do a cake decorating course early this year. I'm under no illusion that this will become a huge passion but I want to give it a go. Generally with crafty hobbies I get inspired, spend a small fortune on supplies, make one half hearted project and promptly forget all about it. Attention span of a two year old. I think in my fantasy world I'll do one eight week course, become the most brilliant cake decorator the world has ever seen and Duff from Charm City Cakes will hear all about me and instantly recruit me to work alongside him and all those cool folk making fabulous cakes for fabulous people... Then I'll wake up and realise homework hasn't been finished and one of the kids has to be at school early for an excursion.

Funny!

We went to see Janeane Garofalo and Greg Behrendt at the Sydney Opera House on Friday night. I've been a fan of Janeane's for a long time, particularly for whacky little flicks like Clay Pigeons and Mystery Men, though she's been in quite a few. She is the sort of dark funny which really appeals to me.

She didn't disappoint on Friday night though I felt her off beat timing and dark leanings went over the top of many heads in the audience. I enjoyed her performance a lot.

Greg Behrendt was very much an unknown quantity. I knew he had co-written He's Just Not That Into You but apart from that I wouldn't have recognised him if I had fallen over him. Sometimes not having any sort of pre-conceived ideas works the best. He killed me.

God! He is a very funny dude! Not much point paraphrasing any of it but I do want to comment on his concert for older people routine. He suggests having concerts just for us older people (I think he suggested 28+). We'd pay extra to keep out the young people (who I think we all agree are just plain annoying, just like we were back way when). The concerts would start at 7 pm, no support act, just the hits, then home by 9 pm to watch our favourite shows. I hear you Greg, I really hear you! [These would also be a great marketing point for my Concert Catheter invention.]

If you get to see these people do live comedy, do yourself a favour...

I would argue that George is the best character on Seinfeld. I mean there is so much to that man, he has the most nurosis (sp?) and the best lines. Sure Jerry is the "star" but where would it be without George?

Jason Alexander is sort of the x-rated version of his alter-ego George. His short, cute, chubby cheeked persona hides a foul mouthed comedian who had us absolutely pissing our pants on Saturday night. Not only is he very very funny but a great and totally surprising singer. The show stopper of the evening was his medly of Broadway classics. Completely unexpected and completely wonderful.

However, this cake had a number of cherries. There was Mick Malloy (not as funny as you may think), Russell Gilbert (bloody funny), Kitty Flannagan (really bloody funny) and The Umbilical Brothers (absolutely fucking fantastic!).

One of the best nights of comedy we've ever seen.

PS Isn't it funny how funny sex is? I mean sex is funny, no doubt about it, but without it there would be no stand up comedy. Strange but true.