Jane Thomson's Blog: But I'm Beootiful!, page 23
February 23, 2014
The real dirt on how to catch your man
Seems to be a topic of near-universal debate among those who still date
Originally posted on An Etiquette Guide for Sluts:
What do you think a man is – some kind of game animal?
When I was young my mum told me that you had to let men pursue you. Your role was to act as if you didn’t give much of a stuff, and that would make them pull out a ring, eventually.
Robert Wright says, in his controversial tome Why We Are the Way We Are, that women instinctively know where they are on the Great Ladder of Desirability, and that girls who know they’re hot will hold out, while girls who know they’re not will grab it where they can. Reading this, I instantly recognised myself as a girl who grabs. The only men I hold out for are the ones I don’t want, and the ones who don’t want me (this last, obviously, involuntarily).
February 16, 2014
Cultural Learnings from Movie Thor
Thor is a great movie.
Ok, it’s not Quentin Tarantino. It’s what I like to call ‘biff, boff and eye candy’ – lots of fighting, lots of hunky chest shots, baddies, goodies, and it all works out in the end.
But at a deeper level, Thor has a lot to teach us about us, and it’s kind of nice (unlike, say, Chucky or Hostel, which also have a lot to teach us, but which are NOT nice). Here it is, in a nutshell.
Whoever put together Thor thinks that people warm to the following concepts:
Love and loyalty. Ok so she’s only a mortal, she’s going to be dead in two seconds, relatively speaking, but she’s the only girl for Thor. No matter that he’s the most handsome man in Valhalla and some bronze-nippled immortal is giving him the eye – Jane is the only one for him. Which is only right, as she too prefers being squashed to death to living without him.
Honour is more important than power. Kings, like politicians, have to be rotten sometimes (from my reading of the news and historical novels, pretty much all the time). Thor is a good guy and wants to stay that way. Ergo, he makes a choice – not to step up to that top job in heaven (and that may be why we have such crappy kings and politicians).
The little people matter. “Never mind those cretins, let’s just you and me sort things out between ourselves,” says Loki or whoever the arch villain is. “No,” says Thor, “I stand with the people of Earth against tyranny and nasty shit.”
Well of course the little people matter. The little people are handing over their money at the box office to watch this stuff. If politics is porn, this is the money shot – “The only thing I care about is serving YOU the people of America/Australia/Outer Mongolia, the citizens of this Great Nation of Ours!”. You don’t get Thor sticking up for the cows or the endangered species or anything though – they don’t vote or watch movies.
Anyway I guess you could say that if the producers of Thor are right about the general tastes of their audience, then humanity isn’t as bad as I sometimes think it is. Which is why I quite like watching movies like Thor, and Batman, and Superman, and so on. That, and the fact that Thor is simply the crumpetiest piece of crumpet I have seen since I was impressionable teen and fancied some guy in a bushranger serial whose name I now forget.
February 9, 2014
Where can I get a black leather zimmer frame?
On the weekend, me and the most beautiful man in the entire universe went to a Rock Concert and it was awesome!! (I use that word advisedly)
So, it’s in this little park in a small town on the south coast of Oz, and we get there, and about half the crowd are over sixty and fat as marshmallows, but that doesn’t stop them from rocking out, no it does NOT! I see leopard print leggings, busting black bikini tops, black leather over arms with more tattoos than Angry Anderson, pink hair, blue hair, white hair cascading to cut-off clad buttocks, and a guy wandering round looking very serious with a roller cane trundling along in front of him! Oh yeah!
And the bands come out and it’s like, these guys are old…are these guys OLD? NO. They shout and they jump in the air and they belt out the lyrics to songs they wrote thirty years ago and songs they wrote six months ago, and they grin at the crowd and the crowd waves its arms (crowds are just one thing, you understand) and if it hadn’t been for my beautiful river god I would’ve been backstage like a flash seeking groupie privileges after the show (not really, but they were hot!).
And we go right up the front and we get our eardrums blasted off, I still haven’t found my left one yet, and we hug and we kiss and we go in the ‘misting tent’ – cause it’s about 35 degrees celsius and sunny as – and stand with all the other oldies and some youngies going ‘ahhh, that’s great, that’s amazing!’ as cold water comes down on our heads and I wish I’d decided to wear a white tee-shirt instead of a yellow one, because, you know, I’m (still) an exhibitionist at heart.
Then I drive home with my hero at the wheel, who handles a car like a pro (actually he is a pro) and we play our favourite songs, and he nearly dumps me because I accidentally hit something on my ipod while the Stones are on and it skips right in the middle to Shakira – but I get the Stones on again and am forgiven.
So for the record, here’s what we went to hear…for my money Joe Camilleri was the BEST……………
but the Angels were pretty damn good too (though a bit loud)- naturally we shouted NO WAY GET F’CKED F’CK OFF! at the top of our voices…
and you would not believe Suzi Quatro was a day over eighty.
February 5, 2014
Lotto Fever: a Faerie Story, pt 1
Reblogged from Oh I DO Blather on, don't I?!?:
Danna couldn’t figure out how she was going to collect the lottery money. She hadn’t thought she’d win, but she had, and quite a lot to boot: Four hundred and ten million dollars, which, according to the people she heard talking about it, was some kind of a record, the biggest lottery winnings in California history.
That’s good. She thought. Right?
When a faerie wins lotto it gets complicated...
January 18, 2014
The Rodent Whisperer
Reblogged from Oh I DO Blather on, don't I?!?:
Apparently...I've become a rodent whisperer!
It's not by choice, oh not at all! But, choice or no, it seems it's what I've become.
Either that, or, whenever I roll into a place to stay for awhile, the wily critters get the idea that I've just procured a gleaming, post-modernist condo for them, complete with water and waste facilities (i.e. my kitchen cabinets!) and, the finest of rodent dining experiences...all gratis, of course!
Read more… 2,356 more words, 1 more video
So funny! Does anyone NEED a rat whisperer?
January 13, 2014
Three weeks – the difference between life and death
Sometimes there’s no time to say goodbye.
Three weeks ago, Mr L (an old guy in a hostel whom I visit through a visiting program) was taking himself off to morning coffee at his local shops of a morning, nearly running down unwary pedestrians with his motorised scooter as he went. Three weeks ago, he was still watching the Australian Football League (AFL) and keeping up with the tennis, and tottering down to the dining hall for a meal with his old friends (old in both senses of the word). Three weeks ago I dropped in to give him a present, and as he always does he said “Give me a peck on the cheek will you dearie!” so I did, with a longer cuddle because it was Christmas.
Today his room is quiet and dark, the only sound the soft hiss of the oxygen with its tube forking up his nose. He’s lost all the weight he ever had, his hands clench and unclench gently on the sheet. His eyes are wide open but they don’t seem to see anything. I say, hello sweetheart, it’s Jane, but there’s no sign he hears me. His son, standing tall and stiff behind me, says he’s fading fast. I won’t see him alive again.
It’s a shock, to come from my beautiful lover to this death bed. I suppress the tears that come to my eyes – though I feel like sobbing – because I don’t have a right to cry in front of this man, the successful businessman, who always introduces himself to me as if he’s never met me before. I wait till I get to the car, and have a short cry. That night I’m laughing at something Ms M has said, but dearest Mr L, I haven’t forgotten you. I’ll always remember you kindly, kindly old man that you are.
January 6, 2014
The 2014 New Year’s Easter Egg Hunt
Were you great at Where’s Wally when you were a kid? Well here’s a challenge for you then! Lots of lovely prizes!!!
Originally posted on Goldorak is Dead:
Happy New Year from Aussa & Le Clown!
To start things off with a bang, Le Clown has pulled together a fantastically horrifying group of bloggers for a New Year’s video chock full of Easter eggs. What better way to start the year than with total confusion and bewilderment?
To play the game, leave a comment listing three eggs that you were able to find, PLUS the total number you counted.
Answers will be revealed on January 13th along with another magnificent™ prize drawing for those of you who can name ALL of the Easter eggs. Prizes include mugs, art, a Weeble, Unicorns, a copy of Fauxpocalypse, banners, a hand knitted scarf, and much more.
Hint: All Easter eggs are images/words/references from SCI-FI/fantasy/horror movies/television shows, and urban legends. Get ready for a lot of pausing and rewinding in order to find them all.
A heartfelt thanks from Le Clown to all his blogger friends who participated in this last minute event:
Nicki, Arden, Aussa Lorens, Madame Weebles, Society Red, TJ Lubrano, Mike Calahan, Tracy Fulks, Gunmetal Geisha, Sophia Fredriksson, Whitney Gaines, Rarasaur, Jennie Saia, Jen and Tonic, Melanie, Rachelle, Dawn, Speaker7, Don, Molly, Michelle Gillies, Matticus, Bill McMorrow, Sara Lomas.
Poster of an egg., in a forest, with some text.
The 2014 New Year's Easter Egg Hunt
Reblogged from A Clown On Fire:
Happy New Year from Aussa & Le Clown!
To start things off with a bang, Le Clown has pulled together a fantastically horrifying group of bloggers for a New Year's video chock full of Easter eggs. What better way to start the year than with total confusion and bewilderment?
To play the game, leave a comment listing three eggs that you were able to find, PLUS the total number you counted.
Were you great at Where's Wally when you were a kid? Well here's a challenge for you then! Lots of lovely prizes!!!
January 4, 2014
The What Ifs and the Should Haves Will Eat Your Brain
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What if I was a zombie?
What if I liked brains?
Why do zombies like brains? Do they like some brains better than other brains? My brain for instance, to a zombie it probably smells like a fine rich stew, full of mushy peas and tender toothsome chicken pieces and lentils swimming around in gravy, nourishing and delectable. Your brain, well that’s probably more like a plate of cheese and crackers.
Whaddya mean by that, you say, in an irritated way. Are you implying that my brain is a mere snack, junk food? while your brain – your precious MIND as you call it – is some kind of gourmet treat?
Well I say, trying to be reasonable – when you think about it, if you were a zombie and you wanted to take your zombie girlfriend out for an expensive meal, wouldn’t you be just a little picky? I mean, say that person over there (pointing to random blog reader, yes you). To a zombie, I bet their brain looks like a great big sloppy hamburger, with orange plastic cheese and mad-cow mince pattie and a piece of token lettuce covered in stale mustard. Would YOU eat something like that?
Whereas my brain – my MIND, as I like to call it – is flavorsome and mysterious. Who knows what subtle herbs, what fine wines, what rare and precious condiments, have been added by the goddess as she labours long over her hotpot in the kitchen of Life? As she sniffs the delicious fragrance rising gently from the healthful broth that is to be….
What if I AM a zombie? You’re getting me all excited! Did I ever tell you I’ve got a thing for brains?
Oh shit. Perhaps I should have said it tasted like day-old dog food in there.
Too late now!
With thanks to Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday xx.
December 29, 2013
The Joy of Faux, by Theseus Muchmoore Comfortable
Faux-fur! Warm, soft, comes in electric blue and what’s even better, faux-foxes combine the abundance of lemmings with the cache of semi-extinct Siberian snow-leopard!
Faux-meat! Delicious, salmonella-free, and you don’t have to stuff things up its arsehole to get it to taste nice!
Faux-sex! You can tell just how good it is by the way Sally goes on about it over lunch. No one ever enjoyed the real thing half as much!
Faux-apocalypse? We’ve watched Apocalypse Now and Apocalypse Later, we’ve cleaned out the basement after Y2K and chopped up the ark for firewood after 2012. Now life seems kinda flat. Where is the danger, the adrenaline, the arguments about what to pack for the Big A?
NEVER FEAR, Fauxpocalypse is here and it’s WAY better than the real thing.
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Fauxpocalypse is a collection of stories about what happens when what’s going to happen doesn’t happen. Scientists, bless their little hearts, predict that a comet will strike the earth and obliterate all life upon it within twelve months. Humans react as humans do. The fatal night comes. And goes. Life on earth is still here. Now what????
Perfect reading for that suspiciously warm summer’s day, that’s what. Guess which story is by a thirteen year old? My tip – it’s the best one (and I have a story in it, so I can say that). To find out what kind of twisted authorial minds came up with this scenario, stop by the talented Paws4Thought at:
http://debbiemanberkupfer.wordpress.com/2013/12/28/meet-kate-i-foley/
http://debbiemanberkupfer.wordpress.com/2013/12/26/introducing-matt-blashill/
And on a slightly different note, I’m pleased cause I finished the first draft of my next novel. I mean ‘faux-finished’ it. That means, finished except for a complete re-write, and then another complete re-write, just to make sure. But still, good work, me! (I’m working on my affirmations).
But I'm Beootiful!
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