Monthly Archives: July 2003

Idoru

Posted on by
Reply

The first episode of “Australian Idol” was on TV tonight. In some ways it’s going to be like all the other Idols around the world, and didn’t let me down by having plenty of hopefuls doing the “woo-oooh” emotional warble. But on the other hand, it did have a unique Australian flavour. At one point the two hosts were singing an altered version of “Asshole” with some of the unsuccessful auditionees.

As usual there were the really good singers and the really awful singers. At one point a chubby, pierced neo-punk chick auditioned. She sang horribly, and I assumed she was just having a bit of a laugh, sticking it to corporate exploitation television. But then the mean judge told her she was terrible and she got all teary-eyed. Oops.

I’m impressed by the judges, particularly Marcia Hines. She doesn’t suffer from the terminal niceness that Paula Abdul is plagued with. One auditionee was singing so badly (and so earnestly) that Dicko the evil judge burst out laughing, and Marcia soon followed. But not only is she not afraid to tell it like it is, she can also sing. At the end a losing group of hopefuls asked her to sing and she sounded so amazing that she made people cry.

This is good reality TV. It’s fun to watch and it gets really exciting when it gets down to the final ten. The very first Popstars show, from which the Idol shows evolved from, came from New Zealand (yes, we all remember TrueBliss). So why can’t something cool like this happen in New Zealand?

Fruit-o-licious

Posted on by
Reply

There’s an infomercial on and one of the pieces of shit being advertised is a juicer. The hyperactive chef demonstrates how you can put an apple in, juice it, then pour the juice back into the hollowed out apple and drink from it.

That got me thinking: In what situation would it actually be possible to drink apple juice from a hollowed out apple and not feel like a complete asshat?

After much contemplating and extensive scientific research, I have concluded that it would only be possible to drink apple juice out of an apple if the apple also contained either a) vodka or b) tequila. And preferably more booze than apple juice.

That turns it from fruity into fruit-o-licious.

Two of my favourite things, apparently

Posted on by
Reply

a) Reality TV is a crutch for people who can’t handle reality.

Cameron is the winner of UK Big Brother. Hooray! Unlike the Australian BB where one housemate was voted out each week until there were only two housemates left, the UK BB ended with five housemates. Oh, but Cameron is so nice. He deserved to win.

I was watching TV earlier and a teaser came on for “Australian Idol”. OMG yes! They’re doing it just like all the other Idols. Two nice judges, one blunt judge, hilarious auditions, and enthusiastic singers who denote emotion by going “woah-oh-oh”. Actually, I’m just guessing the last item, but I bet it’ll be like that.

b) Shitomart.

Today was the big public opening of the Britomart Transport Centre. I’m not sure exactly what was being opened because it’s not even close to being finished. It’s not like when the [entertainment complex that houses Village Queen Street cinemas] opened and they were still glueing down tiles and putting in a few remaining rows of cinema seats. There’s so much work to still be done at Britomart.

All around is blank concrete areas, sheets of wood covering holes, duct tape holding stuff together. The interior of the old post office has a very nice ceiling, and the stained glass dome looks pretty, but it’s just a big empty space with nothing actually built in it. Tomorrow it’ll probably be closed off again to the public until it’s properly finished.

The event was allegedly a festival. In true crap festival spirit, there was a sausage sizzle and face painting for the kids. Tired looking parents navigated bored looking kids around. But rather than it being an exciting new place for children to explore, parents were having to keep their kids away from all the unfinished areas. But I suppose even that can be an educational experience. “Look at the dusty glass slats, Ella!” “Look Josh, see how they’ve disguised the raw concrete with rented pot plants!”

It was hard to get excited about it because it wasn’t like, “Wow, what a great new transport centre!” It was more like walking around a building site where all the builders had been hurried away. I’m not even going to start to get excited until they bloody well finish the place. Until then I will fondly call it Shitomart.

Pretty

Posted on by
Reply

One year Dylzno scammed a press pass to the comedy festival, so we went to a whole lot of shows. I always made him sit in the front show, and he usually ended up being picked on by the comedians. But then during Brendhan Lovegrove’s show the bald gap-toothed comedian somehow ended up sitting in an empty seat next to me and turned to me and said, “you’re rool pretty.” Oh, how I blushed and/or scowled.

I often think back to that evening and wonder what comedic endeavour Mr Lovegrove is up to now. My question was answered as I was browsing The Guardian‘s web site. Brendhan Lovegrove is the comedy writing partner of Aaron Barschak, the “unfunny comedy terrorist” who gatecrashed Prince William’s 21st dressed as Osama bin Laden.

Brendhan – who befriended Barschak before the royal hoo-ha – is helping him flesh out his 15 minute show into an hour-long show for the Edinburgh festival.

Aaron and Brendhan work off each other for a while. Aaron has rewritten the words to Ballroom Blitz, by the Sweet, and they debate whether to include it in the show: “And Aaron Barschak says Comedy Hijack./It’ll turn into a Windsor Blitz./And the It-Girl in the corner says,/’Boy I got to warn ya,/It’ll turn into a Windsor Blitz./Windsor Blitz.’ ”

Brendhan laughs and claps his hands in delight. “It’s brilliant,” he says.

If only I were in Scotland.

Yes yes

Posted on by
Reply

I was heading down Queen Street to catch a bus home when I stumbled across the official opening ceremony of the Britomart centre. There was a rented tent with a bunch of men in suits milling about under it. One of those bango/double bass/trumpet bands (what’s that genre called?) were standing about 30 metres away from the tent and playing music.

Further behind them was a temporary fence keeping the general public away from the un-festive festivities. It had the strange effect of making the tent o’ suits look like some sort of strange anthropological exhibit.

The WBC had their video launch gig at their old stomping ground, the Safari Lounge. The crowd there was (and this is based on my highly unscientific calculations) was about one third rugbyhead (watching a game on the TVs, one third drunken hobag/munter regulars and one third w00da fans.

It was their first show with their new trumpet player. He’s cool and has some wikkid punk stylez. The best moment was during “Thick ‘n’ Thin” when the microphone cut out during the chorus, so no one could hear Matiu sing it. But it didn’t matter because all around me I heard people singing along. After the gig I was talking to st00 about it and he said it was like being in U2. Except without the whole saving the world bit, I’d imagine.

Tired/drunk/v. relaxed