Friday, March 18, 2011

An application

Just this week, the soon to be Princess of England, Kate Middleton ursurped the kooky Lady Gaga as the current "style icon that women wish to emulate". As proof of her ascension, knock-offs of the blue wrap dress she announced her engagement in sold out in London in something like 18 minutes. I don't know, though, I'm not convinced that she's the right, you know, woman for us to idolise. I mean, she's smart, patient (hello, the woman waited for her prince for ten friggin' years - he used to have hair), tolerant (princess job description reads: must love old biggots in crowns) and gorgeous looking. Lady Gaga, however, ARRIVED AT THE GRAMMY'S IN A FUCKING EGG CARRIED BY MAN SLAVES!
Your honour, I rest my case.
Now that Prince Willy is in Qld and close by, though, I feel it only pertinent to point out that he could still find a suitably stylish bride here... in Brunswick, Australia. My name is Danielle, your royalness, and I wish to put forward the following application.

Dear (fresh) Prince William
First off let me say, long time fan, first time correspondent. You've always been my favourite prince, even though it's well known your brother would be much better to boof. Something tells me though, his penchant for role-playing in nazi outfits would suck the passion and sanity from any lasting relationship I could have with him... Anyway, I digress.
I am writing to apply to the position of Princess of the United Kingdom and your heart *sigh*. Please allow me to outline my qualifications, herein:
1. I like animals - not all of them of course. Snakes, spiders and things that bite or burrow into flesh aren't on the list of "animals that I heart" and, frankly, neither are cats. But everything else is pretty much ok or edible when smothered in gravy.

2. I am qualified - I studied at no less than TWO universities. Of course, one of them was off-campus and the other one had those inglorious two words "of technology" tacked on at the end of the name like some dag on a sheeps arse... but still, I paid through the nose for those degrees that got me nowhere, so truly they are legitimate qualifications. Also, at this point I should add that I have twice graduated and therefore am practiced at shaking hands - I believe that hand shaking would be required often by me as a princess of the land and, as such, I would confidently excel. For example "Hello, President Obama. It is lovely to meet you (hand shake). Oh my, you have very soft hands... I'm finding it hard to let them go...". Do you see how I will so easily relate to people from all walks of life Willy?

3. All (other) major princessly skills also covered including waving, getting in and out of carriages, riding side saddle, being an humanitarian (I OFTEN donate to the people who collect at traffic lights), eating delicately (I've figured out I'll binge eat before leaving the palace to satiate my hunger. I mean, come on, the portions
that they serve at those state functions look tiny, even after taking into account the five pounds that TV adds on to a plate) and wearing hats.

4. I'm unbelievably, gob-smackingly stylish. Of course, you wouldn't have seen me in the "what's hot" pages because I keep my style on the down low (read: understated to the point of invisible elegance).
So as you can make up your own mind I would like to offer you a Danielle fashion retrospective:

  •  Hot pink Luke Perry t-shirt with matching bike pants and hot pink socks (1992),
  • Blue flannelette shirt with double denim cut-offs and jacket with Terry Emery's blue New York Nets cap (1993) 
  • White vest with a lace back, no bra and navy wide-leg slacks with a black velvet puffed head band (1996)
  • Blue flare jeans and a black lycra top with a halter neck and a key-hole opening in between the breasts (1999). 
  • White, midriff, roll neck jumper with high-waisted jeans and flat, blonde hair (2005)

I could go on, yes, but you can't argue with history, don't you agree 'travelling Will-berries'? (see how i could give you cute nicknames?) I mean, just this weekend I went into a chubby girl shop and, despite the vague and unimpressed looks of the staff, I bought a pair of black pants the style of which were made famous the world over by MC hammer and Arabian slave girls. Now, amateurs might question the match of this style with my figure, but I tell you, draped fabric around my mid-section and tight ankles only serves to ENHANCE my inverted triangle figure. My friends, along with the staff of that shop, clearly don't share the vision de rigeur that you and I do Will... all I get from them is bland looks and the occasional "oh yeeeeah... they're harem pants are theeeeey?". My unfortunatley hairy, unfashionable bf Harv even had to ask me "what are you weeeearing?"... poor git. You see how good I am with the less fortunate 'Wind in the Will-ows'?

Clearly, I am highly qualified for the position and hope that you recognise this and get rid of that emaciated twink Kate asap. I am available to dicuss this application further at any time, perhaps over a glass of pinto gris or a jagerbomb, and can provide references (yes will, references... I've been around you know ;-0)

Come and get me big willy...

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Pop music for beginners - lesson 1

Many people I know would disagree with this statement, but I'm gonna throw it out there - pop music can be confusing and difficult to understand. I don't believe it to be the insipid trash that most music snobs harshly label it as being; it's challenging, it's gets to the heart of issues and pushes people to really THINK and ENGAGE with what's actually happening in the world. I mean, for god's sake, the pied piper was popular and nobody bags him out - they bloody lord him because he drove all the rats out of town. There's very little research (read: no research but I'm still looking) to support this, but I'm almost 60% certain that Britney's song Toxic would have the same effect on local vermin... just saying, have you heard anything to contradict this idea? No? Try it and see.

However, back to my original point which is that pop music is intellectually difficult to understand at times. "What? You must be on crack, Danielle. What wasted talent..." I hear you say. But to you I say NO, stay with me and I will prove how hard pop music is to understand.

"Now I'm feeling so fly like a G6". That's the name and a line from a pop/dance song from Far East Movement. I mean, it's lyrical genius because it begs so many questions, the first being 'What the shit is a G6?'. Well, since you asked, a G6 is a private jet that rich people like the Sultan of Brunei, Oprah and Justin Bieber fly around in. 2nd question: why would I feel fly like a plane? Another excellent question - feeling fly means you feel hot and sexy and if you have a private jet you would also feel hot and sexy and the actual plane flies in the sky... so you see how it all ties together? It's genius, pure and simple.

Now, for those of you unfamiliar with other critically important pop lyrics, you no longer have to grab your crotch and make excuses about having to pee the next time someone mentions Saturday's episode of video hits around the water cooler at work. Use this quick guide and you will be down (read: well versed) with all things pop music lyrics and, let's face it, probably a bit more attractive.

- "Gold Digger" by Kanye West. This song is NOT, despite first glance, about a lonely prospector who pans for gold and other precious rocks in a forest somewhere far away like Ballarat. No, it's about the struggles rich men face in knowing whether or not the women they are dating are doing so only for the financial benefits that come along with the relationship. Well done Kanye on your attempts at educating men like Hugh Hefner that some women only want them for their money. I mean, imagine if Hugh had to spend the rest of his life (I mean he's 80 or something so he's probably only got a few weeks left, but still...) deluding himself that the dozen or so 25 year old women who share his mansion actually ENJOY his sagging old man balls and inability to sustain an erection without the use of bamboo scaffolding. Can you imagine the injustice?! Kanye, we salute you.

- "Living on a Prayer" Bon Jovi. For clarity's sake, I should start by saying this song is not about Bon Jovi suffering from an eating disorder where he just ate pages from the bible and other holy books. It's about having faith when times are shit - if you listen to the lyrics Gina is dating this guy called Tommy who is apparently a bit of a no hoper and tells her to work at the diner all day for love. I'm no economist nor am I any other kind of 'ist', but I think what Bon Jovi is really commenting on is that love and family is the real currency and that even if you die of starvation living in a cardboard box under a bridge because your home and car were repossessed, at least you have love. In a happy coincidence, and because they don't care about money, Bon Jovi trades in hugs and rainbows and happy thoughts - and I'm sure he told his record label to stick the cash when he discovered that his band was the highest grossing touring band in 2010. He's got a heart of gold tucked away in those inappropriately tight jeans.

- "No Limit" 2 Unlimited. There's no limit to what you can do or achieve, say the 90's Belgian smash hit dance/pop superstars and they were SO RIGHT! Until, of course, after they release that song and realised that there was a definite limit to how many times humans with ears could listen to their music without developing some weird eye tick and they promptly broke up. But still the key message remains - reach for the sky... again, not literally because then you'll be some freak who walks around with their arms up all the time, slowly going mad from trying to actually achieve this impossible task of reaching the sky.

- "Sussudio" Phil Collins. Nobody knows what this fucking means, not even PC himself. Theories abound as to its meaning, but Phil has very plainly said he was just stuffing around in the studio and the noise popped out. It could just have easily have been something that sounded like a fart or yodel or any song that Madonna has released, so don't read into it.

- "Only Girl in the World" Rihanna. She wants you to make her feel like she's the only girl in the world. As in, if you want to stand a chance with Rihanna or any woman that you desire, you need to physically kill every other woman or man who could possibly compete with her and then she'll be happy. Ideas for making this happen include poisoning the water supply, inciting nuclear war or directing a massive asteroid to hit the earth and wipe out all life. OK? Have I cleared that one up for you? Of course, maybe don't discuss the lessons you've taken from this song whilst around the water cooler at work because you might find yourself with a very thick ASIO file marked "critical security risk" and a van parked permanently outside your house.

Look, there's literally a gazillion pop songs that I could unpack for you but I think that by utilising these five examples, I've made my point. Pop songs are truly educational and thought provoking and have the power to change the world. Without pop, we would be completely unaware of the hazards of tying a yellow ribbon around an old oak tree or the vital role that Snow played in informing to the police in an effort to keep drugs off our streets.

Finally, I'd like to leave you with a pop lyric that I find is true to life for me and tends to guide me through rough times. It's from the genius box within the mind of Shaggy. He says "They call me Mr Boombastic. Girl me fantastic. Touch me on me butt they call me Mr ro-ro-romantic". Tip of the hat sir. Tip. Of. The. Hat.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Your manners are as rotten as my proverbial...

As this will mark my 30th year on this earth (I know, I know, it's hard to believe I could look THIS GOOD and be THAT OLD), I have become 30 x more wise and sage-like. Please, take this opportunity to cyber-bask in my Buddha-like presence... And no, you cannot rub my belly, as thrilling and hilarious as you may find the idea.
I'd like to fling at you a golden nugget of blogging wisdom like an AFL players hurl human excrement at hotel room walls - USE YOUR MANNERS. Now, this might seem like an odd way to begin the year's blogging but let me explain where this has come from.
Picture this, here I am, innocently driving my sparkling clean car down the Princes Hwy in Melbourne when the traffic comes to a measured stop. As I slow, I innocently proceed to look in my rear-vision mirror, as any innocently rear-vision checking person might, when what do I see? The car behind me screeching to a halt and turning to the side so as to avoid running into my bumper bar. And what do I see next? The scabby faced bogan driving this lowered commodore station wagon that was centimeters from giving my car an unsolicited colonoscopy starts hurling abuse at ME! Yes, ME!?!?! His face is red and puffy and spit and winfield blues are flying out of his mouth like a cheap lawn sprinkler as he calls me (yes, ME the INNOCENTLY DRIVING DRIVER) every name he could lay his fucking bogan tongue to. To be honest, I didn't understand a lot of what he said because I was so incensed at his absolute lack of manners that I found myself screaming "Learn how to brake you fucking ass pirate" out the window. And when I say scream, I mean I went all out with a Jerry Springer style "I don't care what the test says!!!!! He IS MY BABY DADDY!!!!!" type scream.
All trailer trash aside though, what struck me immediately after I drove off was how the captain of the good ship bogan just had NO MANNERS. Honestly, who hurls abuse when a near accident was YOUR FAULT YOU NIMROD?!?! All the man had to do was offer a curt wave through the windscreen as if to say "My that was a close one!" or doff his hat to indicate "carry on old chap" or start singing the reprise from "Where is Love" from fucking Oliver the musical - ANYTHING to acknowledge his fault in the proceedings in a polite way. But no, he resorts to abuse and hand signals and spitting through his poor dental hygiene at me in order to communicate.
So, here is my plea to you all for 2011 - USE YOUR MANNERS. Be courteous and wave in traffic, say thank you to the tram driver and tell your waiter that you enjoyed their service and you certainly hope their career as an actor is successful. It doesn't take much effort but the rewards are enormous. And parents, teach your kids to use their manners. Please don't let it stop when you've established the use of "ta" after they politely pass you a hand full of their own poop when they're 2yrs old. Let's keep the good work going and the expectation for the use of good manners continuing throughout their formative years. I refuse to believe that phrases such as "I apologise" or "I'm dreadfully sorry" or "Shine your shoes gov'na?" are not able to be used in our day and age. So, parents and aunts and uncles and nosy neighbours, I'd like to provide you with a few practical examples of the proper use of manners for your children:
Parent: Jemima, did you enjoy school today?
Jemima: No mother, however I did blow someone under the bleachers which was enjoyable. PLEASE pass the potatoes.
Parent: Jimmy, where are you going to at this hour?
Jimmy: I'm heading out for the evening to score a hit. May I PLEASE hock the television in the guest bedroom father?
Parent: Jimmy, are these pornographic magazines in your bedside drawer?
Jimmy: Yes father, and I do appreciate you allowing me to borrow them. THANK YOU.
Use these as a guide or you just might end up raising your very own bogan-chariot driving, bad mannered douche-bag. PLEASE!