Sunday, August 04, 2002
The Weekend Wrap-up
Friday
Friday night saw another gathering of the Kingston Masif at the Palais de Pints, Filthy McFaddens. After discovering a new type of shot which involved dropping a shot of something blue into a half-tumbler of Lemon Ruski, the group serenaded absentee Elenor with the first verse and chorus of Believe It Or Not (the hit theme of the 80's tv show The Greatest American Hero). The amazing vocal talents of the group were recognised by the equally talented girls in the nearest booth and in the interests of social assimilation T-bone wasted no time kicking off the WTBN Flash Party and Subscriber Drive with them.
Saturday
Round 8 of the Happy Christmas Professor Ovington 1970 Cup Plate Shield soccer comp saw Liverpool get up over Fulham with the final shameful result of 8-0. Injured playing inline hockey mid-week, C-ho played official comp photographer and captured such memorable scenes as 'The Tortoise' and 'The Rugby Manoeuvre'. Ms S even got the PT kit on for a a bit of a run around (that's for Maree, who probably won't believe Ms S when she tells her anyway).
Post-game half-pints and breakfast were skipped in the interests of getting ready for another birthday lunch at Rubicon. I can't recommend that place enough; my entree of Roast Duck soup was not only very tasty, but had at least half a duck in it - more like a stew than a soup. The risotto was, as it always is, excellent. The only thing I can fault them on is the exorbitant amount they charge for corkage and cake-age. Many bottles of red and desert wine later we progressed over to the B Bar back in Kingston. Whilst catching up with GMS was good, the banal shop talk from the DoFA representatives, combined with the grumbling of my stomach, saw me wander down to Green Square where the acquisition of pizza and videos took place.
I then crossed the square to Casa de McCracken for the rugby (how tense was the crowd every time Burke went to kick?) and then hung around to watch The Long Kiss Goodnight. "Die screaming" has to be one of the best action film lines ever.
Sunday
I think Ange thinks I spent the night on the couch; I was lying on it watching the Kylie video clips (she's so easy to watch) on Rage when she came home from Civic, then I went to bed, but was back on it in the morning when she got up. Watched Series 7 and The Anniversary Party.
Series 7 is basically a reality show in which a handful of "Contenders" are chosen by lottery (with their Government ID numbers - Contenders can't opt out) and are issued with a handgun by the shows producers. It's then up to them to kill off the other Contenders, then they become carry-over champions and it all begins again. People only quit when they die. It's rated R for a reason; it's fucking disturbing and should be watched by every reality show fan to knock them back to their senses.
The Anniversary Party looks at the relationships between a group of thirty-somethings in Hollywood. As you'd expect most of the characters have issues, and not just one or two, bagfulls of 'em. There's drugs, addiction, post-natal depression, abortion, infidelity, break-ups, reunions, casting decisions, flagging careers and a comedy-in-production that just isn't funny.
Then it was time for me to get my slack butt dressed and get working. It was day one of fourteen of me playing cleaning bitch around the house (I haven't been doing my fair share, so I'm doing penance to catch up). Cleaned the kitchen and lounge today - rest of the unit to follow.
The afternoon/evening was spent back at Casa de McCracken for more movies. This Sunday's double feature was Body Melt and Fear of a Black Hat.
Body Melt was a 1993 Australian production featuring the combined casts of Blue Heelers and Neighbours, about a chemical company testing its products on an unsuspecting populace of a small Melbourne suburb. There's even a Daddo. This film has to be seen to be believed, and you'll be very lucky if you can find it anywhere I suspect. There's incredibly disgusting special effects, acting and dialogue so bad it's hilarious and more Aussie celebs than you can point several sticks at (most of which would probably sue anyone who mentioned it in an interview). The scariest part is that the guy who made it, Philip Brophy, apparently runs the Australian Film and Radio School now.
Fear of a Black Hat is basically This is Spinal Tap for the rap world. The only wrong thing about it was the man-boobs on writer/director/performer Rusty Cundieff (Ice Cold).
The evening was finished off with a bit of Grand Theft Auto 3 and a beer back at the Palais de Pints before coming home to write it all up...
Hope yours was as much fun as mine; went out, met new and interesting people, saw the regular crew and enjoyed everything except the inevitable hearing loss that'll come from all of the cap-gun fire at close range.
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