Excuse me while I yell for a moment...
WHY. THE. FUCK. DO. PEOPLE. THINK. IT. IS. OK. TO. BRING. BABIES. TO. CONCERT-TYPE. EVENTS?
Last night I am sitting in the beautiful Concert Hall of the even more beautiful Sydney Opera House to hear one of my favourite authors, David Sedaris, talk about his book When You're Engulfed in Flames. My anticipation levels are high. Judith Lucy (whom I also adore) comes out to do the introduction (oh joy!).
But what is that strange noise I hear? Is it a cough? Is it someone with a strange voice, a la Travis from Big Brother, making odd noises? Anxiously I turn around and lo and behold DIRECTLY BEHIND ME is a stupid couple and the stupid fucking woman is cradling a baby who is making gurgling, semi-crying baby fucking noises. My eyes bulge and my pulse quickens, I have a hard-to-fight urge to take this couple out onto the pebblecrete forecourt and repeatedly smash their moronic heads against the ground until the realise the error of their selfish ways.
But instead I look away in disgust and, what do I see downstairs, but another stupid couple pushing their giant costs-a-month's-wages fucking Bugaboo monstrosity into the lower hall. Is the world mad? YES! Are people too stupid to live? YES! Is the entire population of the entire universe hell bent on stopping me enjoying any and every event I go to? YES! and double YES!
I can not remember the last time I went to any event which involved paying money to sit in a hall and listen to someone speak, sing, play music or even watch a goddamned movie without someone else thinking it acceptable to bring their babies, talk on the mobile, talk to their neighbour and/or constantly go in and out of the hall.
I'm all for involving children in social events but there has to be some measure of common fucking sense. Small babies and toddlers are not controllable; they cry, scream and make annoying noises for no discernable reason. What's worse is that their moronic parents do not think it necessary to remove their noise-making children and therefore allow a hall full of paying customers to enjoy the performance. Shit NO, these people are happy to disturb hundreds and thousands of people for their own selfish, idiotic needs.
Honestly, I'm THIS far away from starting a vigilante squad and/or forming a political party with NO CHILDREN IN THEATRES as my main platform. Send all political donations to...
Showing posts with label Stupid People. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stupid People. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Our Anniversary Weekend:
The Good
* Getting picked up in a private car from Melbourne Airport by my dear husband and a uniformed chauffer named Theo.
* The hotel. The Melbourne Grand Hyatt is great and being on the executive floors makes it even better. Not that the rooms are any better but you get to use the Executive Lounge on Level 31 which is where you go for breakfast away from the unwashed masses (not sure how many of the unwashed masses stay the Grand Hyatt) and where you go for drinkies and canapes after 5:30 pm. Wonderful service, great views and complimentary (almost up there with SALE in my vocabulary hierachy) food and drink. Bring it on!
* The tennis. The Men's Final on Sunday night was amazing. The atmosphere was electric and most of the crowd was on the side of super cute Frenchie Jo-Wilfried Tsonga (Second = WINNER in my book, sweetie). Who wouldn't love a face like this:
(I tought him everything I know about tennis... luckily he ignored that and learnt to play properly!)
* The food. We got lucky with our eating out (I guess a bit of internet research didn't hurt). Saturday night dinner at Gingerboy in the city. Really fabulous food, great cocktails (my Gingerboy Iced Tea was superb) and a very funky atmosphere with just right service. Sunday yum cha at Red Emperor. Wow this sucks! How can my new favourite yum cha place be in Melbourne? That's just not right. But this place is very very good. The garlic prawn dumplings are the best I've ever had. Both highly recommended.
* The movie (yes, we managed to squeeze in a 2 hour + movie between the Women's Final and dinner on Saturday evening). No Country for Old Men was vintage Coen Borthers. I was annoyed by the non-ending but got used to it after a bit of perculating through the grey cell department. It's not Raising Arizona but it's damn fine as it is.
* The friends. Got to see Big Jay's brother T, his wife A and their little fella A. They are always good fun and good value. Love you guys! Also enjoyed yum cha with two other families we know through our Guatemalan-born children. While we don't see them often it's always great fun when we do (and then there's email for the in-between years).
The Bad
* The food at the Australian Open. Are you havin' a larf? Is he havin' a larf? Someone's having a fucking laugh, that's for sure. There is a conspiracy going on in this country and it involves sporting venues, food outlets and stealing money from a captive audience. Never mind committees investigating petrol price fixing and whether or not supermarkets are fucking us over on a daily basis (they are!). What about an investigation into the price and quality of food at sporting venues? Where do you stand on that KRudd?
* People are rude. Do I need to go on? Well, OK. They push in, yell out and generally behave in ways guaranteed to piss off all those around them. Hey, guess what? Acting like you are the only person who matters is not cool!
The Ugly
* The heat. Saturday's afternoon match was almost unbearable. If the Women's Final had gone to three sets I would have had to leave. While our seats were great view-wise, they were horrific heat-wise. I really felt like the ant under the proverbial magnifying glass. I don't recall being so hot and uncomfortable.
* The three pissed cows. The three seats on our left were occupied by a trio of 50-something women who loved their tennis (had been at the Open for the last 10 years) and equally loved their cheap vino. They arrived tipsy and quickly got fully blotto. Each to their own, I say, but when you're so pissed you ask me the same question 20 times ("is it SONGA and T-SONGA?" and "look, there's Sting") and slur in my face with your alcohol soaked breath, then I start to get the urge to smash your stupid drunk head on the concrete steps over and over until YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!
The Good
* Getting picked up in a private car from Melbourne Airport by my dear husband and a uniformed chauffer named Theo.
* The hotel. The Melbourne Grand Hyatt is great and being on the executive floors makes it even better. Not that the rooms are any better but you get to use the Executive Lounge on Level 31 which is where you go for breakfast away from the unwashed masses (not sure how many of the unwashed masses stay the Grand Hyatt) and where you go for drinkies and canapes after 5:30 pm. Wonderful service, great views and complimentary (almost up there with SALE in my vocabulary hierachy) food and drink. Bring it on!
* The tennis. The Men's Final on Sunday night was amazing. The atmosphere was electric and most of the crowd was on the side of super cute Frenchie Jo-Wilfried Tsonga (Second = WINNER in my book, sweetie). Who wouldn't love a face like this:
(I tought him everything I know about tennis... luckily he ignored that and learnt to play properly!)
* The food. We got lucky with our eating out (I guess a bit of internet research didn't hurt). Saturday night dinner at Gingerboy in the city. Really fabulous food, great cocktails (my Gingerboy Iced Tea was superb) and a very funky atmosphere with just right service. Sunday yum cha at Red Emperor. Wow this sucks! How can my new favourite yum cha place be in Melbourne? That's just not right. But this place is very very good. The garlic prawn dumplings are the best I've ever had. Both highly recommended.
* The movie (yes, we managed to squeeze in a 2 hour + movie between the Women's Final and dinner on Saturday evening). No Country for Old Men was vintage Coen Borthers. I was annoyed by the non-ending but got used to it after a bit of perculating through the grey cell department. It's not Raising Arizona but it's damn fine as it is.
* The friends. Got to see Big Jay's brother T, his wife A and their little fella A. They are always good fun and good value. Love you guys! Also enjoyed yum cha with two other families we know through our Guatemalan-born children. While we don't see them often it's always great fun when we do (and then there's email for the in-between years).
The Bad
* The food at the Australian Open. Are you havin' a larf? Is he havin' a larf? Someone's having a fucking laugh, that's for sure. There is a conspiracy going on in this country and it involves sporting venues, food outlets and stealing money from a captive audience. Never mind committees investigating petrol price fixing and whether or not supermarkets are fucking us over on a daily basis (they are!). What about an investigation into the price and quality of food at sporting venues? Where do you stand on that KRudd?
* People are rude. Do I need to go on? Well, OK. They push in, yell out and generally behave in ways guaranteed to piss off all those around them. Hey, guess what? Acting like you are the only person who matters is not cool!
The Ugly
* The heat. Saturday's afternoon match was almost unbearable. If the Women's Final had gone to three sets I would have had to leave. While our seats were great view-wise, they were horrific heat-wise. I really felt like the ant under the proverbial magnifying glass. I don't recall being so hot and uncomfortable.
* The three pissed cows. The three seats on our left were occupied by a trio of 50-something women who loved their tennis (had been at the Open for the last 10 years) and equally loved their cheap vino. They arrived tipsy and quickly got fully blotto. Each to their own, I say, but when you're so pissed you ask me the same question 20 times ("is it SONGA and T-SONGA?" and "look, there's Sting") and slur in my face with your alcohol soaked breath, then I start to get the urge to smash your stupid drunk head on the concrete steps over and over until YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!
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