Dinky DIY

Dinky DIY’s Guide to Australian Literature

2010-05-18T03:31:00.000-07:00

We’re championing culture, here, Dinky DIYers! Australiana is not just about bogans and beer bottles, racists and riots, meat and mullets. Let’s celebrate our southern hemispherian, up-side-down nation’s own literary canon. Put on your aprons and get ready to hit reverse on this cultural vacuum.

Firsts

Early attempts by Australian writers took to faking the English style and were obsessed with the weirdness of this new landscape. Probably because most writers were shrewdly pitching at a British audience in the hope they would do well there and be invited back home with more welcome than they were shipped off.

Our first literary foray as a nation was a challenge taken up by Tasweigian convict. Quintus Servinton: A Tale founded upon Incidents of Real Occurrence by Henry Savery was published in 1831.

His biography begins with an outstanding, historical example of Australian logic where he’s sentenced to the Van Dieman’s Land colonies from England for white collar forgery and appointed in a government service position in the Colonial Treasurer’s office upon his arrival.

Following which, he dabbled as frequently in writing as he did in crime and seems to have struggled to succeed at either. All in all, I’d say his erratic life paints a somewhat un-savery picture. (ah yes, yes I did.) Yet, he was moved to thinly disguise an autobiography behind a silly little tale about a convict a lot like himself but better which, in A Bride Stripped Bare move, he attempted to published anonymously. Everyone found out and he got in some trouble. Colonial reviews were quite glowing but then, it was our very first book in history, meaning nothing much to compare it to then, right?

As Wikipedia rather drolly puts it, “It is generally agreed that his writing is more important for its historical value than its literary merit.” He may or may not have died in 1842 after cutting his own throat which seems a strange detail for us not to have certainty on but such were the mad, bad days of the wild early colonies.

Son of a feisty, literary suffragette-of-sorts , Henry Lawson (1867-1922) is Australia’s Hemingway... kinda. Depressive, deaf, drunkard, bad husband, neglectful father, oft-imprisoned, university drop-out, rebel republican, roaming ballardist for the beloved Bulletin, he nonetheless has been immortalised on our $10 note and was sent off with a state funeral for being a “distinguished citizen.”

But none so well admired, from our early days, as Lawson’s more romantically-inclined, Banjo Paterson (1864-1941.) We are a sentimental bunch when we want to be, and collectively melt into our vinyl, suburban armchairs when we hear this poet’s wistful words, conjuring the embers of campfires and wild, roguish bush-lore.

Fantasies

You can have your Hogwarts, your Faraway Trees and Wonderful World of Disneys… I have two words for you Snugglepot and Cuddlepie. Yep. That’s how we roll down-under. Happy homunculi otherwise known as the “gumnut babies” who burst onto the scene with their bushwhacking adventures escaping the villainous Banksia Men during the Armistice celebrations of 1918, and have never been out of print since.

Females

Here we can see for miles and miles... Yes, Miles Franklin, the Aussie carrying on the tradition of popular female novelists assuming male names, penned My Brilliant Career. In 1937, Franklin thumbed the poms who loved the book and rejected an Order of the British Empire but came to fear that nothing she wrote would match its success and resorted to publishing behind the veil of many nom de plumes including the bizarre pseudonym Brent of Bin Bin, for fear of scathing reviews comparing her newer work to her opus. When she died in 1954 she left literature Down Under an annual literary award known as The Miles Franklin Award.

Freaks

Our first and only Australian to be granted the Nobel Prize for Literature was an oasis of creativity in a desert of spaghetti cowboy pulp fiction. 1973 Australia was in the grip of Gough but its people were still a tough crowd. Before that he had been the first winner of the Miles Franklin Award for Voss. Ah, the blinding brilliance of Patrick White. He was awarded the prize for "an epic and psychological narrative art, which has introduced a new continent into literature" and sent Sidney Nolan to Stockholm to collect the prize on his behalf. Clearly he was busy that day.

Frauds

Aussie authors have picked up the knack of dropping their Anglo appellations for rather more exotic titles. These ethnic impersonators are suspected of being motivated by a preference in the local publishing industry for indigenous and ethnic minority voices. Some notable controversies swelled around this list:

Wanda Koolmatrie (aka Leon Carmen)
Ern Malley (aka James McAuley and Harold Stewart)
Eddie Burrup (aka Elizabeth Durack)
Helen Demidenko (aka Helen Darville)

Look ‘em up... the fraudsters.

Dinky DIY’s Complete Guide To Smoking

2010-03-25T15:49:00.000-07:00

Oscar Wilde : Do you mind if I smoke?

Sarah Bernhardt: I don’t care if you burn.

Ah the smoker, that timeless neurotic who fills vacuous moments in time with the deeply inhaled serenity of curling white smoke. Like little puffing chimney’s leaning against office towers or gathered like communist peasants against the chill on the pavements outside nightclubs. Take a deep breath, dear Dinkster, for herein lies the secret’s of this exclusively doomed club. Stick this in your pipe and smoke it.

Got A Light?

It was once the perfect beginning of a beautiful (albeit short?) life together, though the cigarette light pick up trick is quickly going out of vogue. These days, in these parts at least, an indulgent drag on a fine tailor-made is a habit banned from all the classic meat-markets; nightclubs, airplanes, piano bars, hotel lobbies and restaurants. It seems the powers that be would have a girl beg for a lights on the footpath and you know what that makes you look like.... If your budget allows for cross-continental prowls there are still plenty of opportunities for a smoker in the discotechs of the former USSR or shopping centres of the middle east. But for those with overflowing ashtrays by their laptops, now you can find sour-breathed romance from the comforting fug of your own flat with websites like this . Meet a fellow durrymuncher and make asthmatic babies together for when there’s smoke there’s the fires of passion .

They smoke cigarettes professionally. The smoke is inhaled very sharply and the teeth are bared.
Then the head turns to give you a profile and the smoke is exhaled slowly and deliberately and the grey jet stream becomes a beautiful blue cloud of smoke.
What are they trying to tell us?
- Jeffrey Bernard, Spectator, 1982

Screw me.

That’s what they are saying; or maybe screw you. Whatever the message, it’s packing heat. Jerry Seinfeld laughed at smokers for thinking themselves superior due to their mastery over flame, “Smoke and fire is literally coming right out of my mouth” and it’s not exactly breaking news that smoking has always been symbolic with bad-asses and sex fiends. Oral fixations... phallic obsessions...smoking fetishists (or those who subscribe to capnolagnia as it’s called) might put a whole new spin on blowing smoke but is there a hidden meaning in these smoke signals? DinkyDIY thinks not, even Freud admitted, “sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.” But then... that was before Monica Lewinsky.

Big Tobacco

Farmed with roots mingled in slave blood and growing rich on the asthmatic wheeze of school kiddies, the all time bad boys rule Big Tomacco. Remember the “Seven dwarves” (‘Ahh believe nic-o-tine is not aaahhhdictive’ in their evil southern drawls.)

Learn the subtle genius of reverse hypothesis.

Smokin’ Hot

Cigarettes and coffee has long been reknown as the breakfast of champions and I know I don’t need to draw the dots for you brainiacs, between the very obvious correlation with smoking and supermodels. Even Nobel Prize winner, Obama, is having trouble quitting the fags. It’s kind of a nice thought that these shiny, beautiful creatures are in the desperate grips of an addiction out of control. That they too, tape plastic cups over smoke detectors in hotel toilets to get a bump of nictotine. They that have picked through the soggy remnants of morning-after ashtrays and smoked butt ends to delay the hung-over trek to the petrol station. And it makes it easier to quit. Attractive people start smoking because it makes them look cool. Acknowledge you are neither attractive, nor cool and that fagging on will only worsen your shortcomings in these areas. You will down those cancer sticks quick smart.

This might help.

What’s Your Poison

The Oracle of Omaha, Warren Buffet, has always backed Big Tobacco. He reasons a product like this can’t fail when it has such powerful brand loyalty. Benson & Hedges took their dull brand up a notch when they went gold, The Malboro Man (and all the dead models who played him) symbolised rugged masculinity but what does your brand say about you...?

Sobranie Cocktails like magical pastel coloured gelato-scoops of cancer this brand is Neverland shit and definitely = Transvesite recently returned from Asia

Cuban stogeys = God Complex

Malboro Reds = Wanna-be rockstar/Borderline Emo

Alpine Menthols = Desperate Housewife. Goes perfectly with a cheap glass of Chardy

Winnie Blues = Tradesperson/May have participated in the Cronulla Riots draped in an Aussie flag

Champion Ruby/Drum Blue Tobacco = Pothead/Backpacker

Longbeach = With mega-economy packs like these, you’re probably on the wheezy wait list for a new lung.

Breathe easy, dinskters.

DIY Voodoo &Vengeance

2009-11-21T17:31:00.000-08:00

Things are heating up in the Antipodes and it’s making my blood boil.... Be sure to wear your gris-gris.

That’s right folks, I’m itchin’ for a witchin’ and there be fools steppin’ on my toes. Takin’ liberties, pushin’ my buttons and I know you feel me when I say it’s time for a reckoning. It’s time for some healthy retribution.

So button up pack your road rage into that soul pocket for a moment (the one that turns into cancer if you don’t keep an eye on it) because we have stumbled upon a new ways to vent your spleen.

Dinky DIY's Manual on Voodoo & Vengeance:

Louisiana Ouanga:

Rootwork is the hoodoo term for one that cooks up potions and powders from herbs and roots. How’s your veggie garden going? I don’t need to tell you the old laxative in the coffee trick or putting wee flowers (dandelions) under the object of your wrath’s pillow at night but you may very well be unaware of the old potions relied upon by witchdoctors of the Caribbean to drive the message home. The idea is you make a little pouch filled with a wicked ingredients which your victim must merely touch to begin the curse.

Marie Laveau apparently sealed her sought after charm pouch’s with dragon’s blood ink, fetching hefty prices from the fearful believers. Remember, only an odd number of ingredients and never more than 13 items.

Recipe for Goofer Dust (this one brings on serious trouble for one’s enemy ... so be careful!)

Graveyard dirt
Black salt
Ground sulfur
Snake skin
Magnetic sand
Dried pigeon poo

Blow on the bag to activate the magick!

Consult your grimoire for good stockists.

Blood Feud:
Nemo Me Impune Lacessit

When you play with fire, you’re bound to get burnt, dear readers. Which is why one must keep one’s nose out of crazy tribal madness at all times. Familial, tribal and gang vendettas can be a messy business and nobody wants to be the mopper... or the mopped?! Leave all that business down in Melbourne where it belongs, I say, and learn to play nice like the Samurais did . Stay classy, friends, air kiss while you twist that knife in their backs and sweetly smile while stirring poison. If things start to get really bad, just be sure you have a sexy yellow jumpsuit onhand.

Oh Poppets!
You remind me of the babe
(What babe?)
Babe with the power
(What power?)
Power of voodoo
(Who do?)
You do
(Do what?)
Remind me of the babe

Poppets are the original voodoo dolls (these dolls actually have no place in the Haitian/West African Voodou religions) originating in Europe as little sympathetic magic outlets for ill-intentions. But unless you have a stray Barbie kicking around, who has time to rustle up twigs and wax for this exacting form of punishment. Not us, Dinksters! We are busy people of the world and that’s why I have scoured the interwebz to bring you the 21st Century solution – Virtual Voodoo Doll. Get clicking.

Beat of A Tell Tale Heart:
"And if any mischief follow, then thou shalt give life for life, Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot..." Exodus 21:23

Nothing sends the message clearer than a rumbling beat of doom. Bongos, clapping sticks or stomping feet work quite well. In the office, batterie maconnique can be simulated with the ear-drum piercing frustration of a fax-line repeatedly harassing one’s landline. Set your fax to try 15 times then call our enemy’s direct number. Then go calmly about your day knowing with each ring, their nerves are fraying slight more and more.

Weapon of Choice:
"Revenge is sweet and not fattening." [Alfred Hitchcock]

They do say revenge is a dish best served cold but how about undead?
In Haitian voodoo culture, zombification is a specialised vengeance punishment for wrongdoers but in Westernised cultures everyone wants instant gratification, seeing results now now now... you know, Bobbit-style . There are different styles, some procrastinate a la Hamlet or they might gloat like the nutjobs at Revenge Lady. Some folks like to see others in pain, bloodied horse heads on pillows and the such, others seek swift retribution. For more information, speak to the professionals ... or watch more cartoons, Sylvester and Tweetie, Tom and Jerry, Itchy and Scratchy, Wiley Coyote and Roadrunner.... plenty of inspiration.

Screw karma, give ‘em what’s coming!

Wadda Wippoff Or Dinky DIY’s Guide to Dodging Cons

2009-10-18T21:18:00.000-07:00

Greetings infidels.

Penny pinching is du jour in these GFC (Gotta find cash? Get fricken covered?) times bringing out the recessionista in everyone.

Basically the rich have been just dying for an opportunity to be out, loud and proud about tight-arsed behaviour and the flurry of middle class blogs penned around frugal chic is testament to that.

Now, we at Dinky DIY say more power to you! The Machine is a constantly scheming engine that is churning out new and breathtakingly cheeky ways to rip us all off, so we say give it back to ‘em.

Here are some classic rip offs so you can spot them a mile away.

Bottled Water: Evian can suck it. Seriously what the eff, people? What do you pay water rates for? It’s flowing freely through your faucets and you just can’t wait to dash out and buy some more blue-lidded landfill. Oh waaah, it tastes metallic. Cry me a river, you pansies. Harden up and dilute it with scotch.

Diamonds: Show me the carbon and I’ll show you the diamonds. Tons of them, mate, scattered around everywhere but just try and sell them and you will have a serious encounter on your hands. Enter DeBeers (cue evil laugh). Yep those buggers have made it their business to suppress diamond supply and squeeze out competition for yonks, so that you are serving up three times your monthly salary to snare the heart of your darling. The woman who coined the ultra successful “Diamonds Are Forever” line, didn’t ever get married because she knew that it was all just a line.

Farmers Markets & The Organic Food Con: Yes, of course you feel better after you have eaten sausages that cost you $6 a snag or a slice of $8 bread. That’s because you’re a yuppie; all smug and superior when you see others at the lunch table content with their glutinous, processed, pesticided white bread making their children ADHD or hyper-allergic or whatever and giving them ulcers and cancers and what not. But rest easy, most of those fancy pants delis and farmers markets have free tastings, so if you’re fast and relatively inconspicuous, you can tour around stocking up on upmarket treats without parting with a cent.

Gym Membership: Flabby McFlabFlab went to the gym, the peach-buttocked girls sold a dream to him, “$49 a month and sure thing you’ll be thin! Don’t read the fine print – just sign here and win.” And the chubby fool copped it all with a grin.

The Secret : Spoiler alert! I’ll save you the time and dosh and let the big fat secret out of the bag for free... you are in control of you. Oooohhh myyyyy goooooodddddd. Reeeeevvvveeellllaaattionn. That is unless, of course, you have already begun reading the books and watching the DVDs. Then you are not in control. You are being brainwashed by the some geniuses who got high distinctions in Marketing 101. If you really want to lose your grip, why not look into Turning Point ?

Stay ahead of the game, gumdrops.

I Had A Dream OR Dinky DIY’s Guide To Dream Interpretation

2009-10-02T19:42:00.000-07:00

And in my slumber, deepest deep,
Visions come, the sins of sleep.

Oooh yes, dinksters, be wary. My troubled mind is conjuring madness in restless nights. Muahahahaha. Don’t know if it had something to do with the vegetarian tacos that were gulped down during a movie marathon which included Pretty In Pink, A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream and Dogma, but last nights’ dream was a doozy.

Be on your guard for such as this;

Dream Interpretation:
We are such stuff as dreams are made of. -Shakespeare

You know that awesome one where you just take off and begin to fly? Well it means you’re pregnant... or you’re about to die... or you will win lotto... or you’re probably reading too many of those hokey dream interpretation dictionaries. That’s right folks, once upon a time you could just have the naked walking down the street works and it was a healthy outlet for another average Joe dealing with the miserable conformity and isolation of modern life. But now, no! Those dream-reading, hemp-wearing, hair-dreading seers whip up sales by turning something so innocent into something disturbingly compelling. Even Oprah’s on the bandwagon with her dream diary crap. Sheesh, if dreams were meant to be talked about don’t you think we would remember them better?

Sex Dreams:

I dream of genie with the light brown hair ...

– Bugs Bunny (the funniest Wabbit ever.)

There are the ones that put a spring in your step (and a strain in your wrist) and those others that have that unmistakable Eewwwww factor. But just when you were having those gross-out flashbacks and wondering “what is wrong with me???” take heart that you’re not a ‘banditing’ ... or are you?

Famous Dreams:

Any dream will do - Joseph

If I had one dream that could go down in the pages of history it would have to be the one where I had a bitchfight with Maleficent from Snow White... but maybe this is not the fodder of famous dreams. It seems, if I want to be remembered for my nocturnal visions best I get dreaming about fat cows and wearing technicolour dream coats. Sometimes dreams can be handy, like the one Hitler had that warned him to get a wriggle on before he was blown to bits or that scientist, Frederich Kekule, had about the compound of benzene. Others can be darn depressing, like Lincoln’s . They are good for writer’s though, being credited for Shelley’s Frankenstein and King’s Misery.

In The Dreamtime:

Now here I go again, I see the crystal vision

-Stevie Nicks

In this day and age, not many of us get sent off into the wilderness to experience a malnutricianed struggle with poison berries and septicaemic wounds to aid us in our spiritual journey.... but don’t let that stop you from getting your spirit animal on. Dinky DIY does not promote mind altering substances actively (we know you cheeky buggers don’t need encouragement) even though Australia’s own acacia madenii does happen to grow about the place and contains a rather “enhancing” substance in it known as DMT . But tut tut tut, who needs that rubbish when you have the fainting game ?

Sleep tight!

dustbitten

2009-09-23T22:43:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you've gotta step back and look at the big picture, but sometimes the opposite is true too.

A hazy, throat-choking, nose-tickling cloud descended upon the Australian east coast yesterday turning out glittering harbours and neighbourhoods into Marscapes. Giving everyone the opportunity to focus on what is right in front of them, the over-looked details of your immediate life.

Stop being a whingy ratbag and look on the bright-side, when the expanding horizons are blurred you can stay inside and work on the often neglected little things and regular relationships.

Or not. Suck on your asthma attack.

FYI Things have been worse.

.

Dinky DIYs Guide to Harlots, Whores & Hookers

2009-09-09T21:22:00.000-07:00

OR Gettin' Jiggy

Back in Sydney, where sun kissed firm flesh abounds! Whatevs, while I mix myself a pina colada and load up RedTube

here`s

Dinky DIYs Guide to Harlots, Whores & Hookers ... y’know, in case you’re job-hunting. Inform yourselves.

The World`s Oldest Profession: During the heyday of Roman orgies, Emperor Claudius‘ naughty younger bride, Messalina, challenged Rome‘s top-billing whore to a sex marathon. Curious about who could hang in there the longest, the match was scheduled and Messalina won after 25 rounds. Atta gal! But all this skirt lifting and streetwalking can come at a price and the terrifying Jack the Ripper was not the first nor last fiend to target working girls for grim ends. Apparently business is also suffering since the economic crisis has hit .

The Happy Hooker: She is Amsterdam`s celebrity daughter of the flesh, Xaviera Hollander. Born like a thousand years ago in the Dutch East Indies she now looks like a really old blow-up doll. She ended up in New York when she was in her 20s working for the Dutch consulate, but when the opportunity to become a $1000 a night call girl popped up… well, Ol' Xaviera wasn't silly, she could do the math. After a year of cashing up, she opened her own brothel and promoted herself to madam of the Vertical Whorehouse and went on to publish her book The Happy Hooker divulging the ins and outs (ehem) of her lifestyle choices.

Working Down Under: Madam Lash, Sydney`s favourite private school educated own dominatrix extroadinaire. Our most notorious S&M artist, sex hedonist and kink-parlour proprietor. Though, she`s getting a bit long in the… tooth these days, Im sure that hasn`t diminished her appeal. These days she can be found hanging out in the Anything Can Happen room of her Palm Beach mansion, painting '4D' portraits of her famous friends and "highly vibrational individuals". Watch out for her next Mardi Gras.

Holy Harlots: Biblical stories are just seething with these misunderstood badgirls, beginning with Lilith . Mythology places her as Adam`s (of Garden of Eden fame) first wife, but her history can be traced to Sumerian legends where the feminine demon Lilitu tormented men with erotic dreams. Anyway, like so many relationships it was sex that broke up this couple of paradisians - ancient Jewish texts state;

Adam and Lilith immediately began to fight. She said, 'I will not lie below,' and he said, 'I will not lie beneath you, but only on top. For you are fit only to be in the bottom position, while I am to be the superior one.' Lilith responded, 'We are equal to each other inasmuch as we were both created from the earth.'

So she flew off and God had to make Adam a new girlfriend. Poor Eve didn`t escape getting a bad rep either, after all, she basically got the blame for all the ills of the world. The Magdalene has been redeemed a bit via Dan Brown, but 2000 is a loooong time for a rumour mill to be cranking against you. But who is the wickedest of them all? Why Jezebel , of course! The original painted lady who welcomed battle by putting on makeup forever earning herself a reputation for being mutton dressed as lamb.

Shakespearean Strumpets: Old Bill had a filthy mouth when he tried and some of the insults one can find in the pages of his works would fuel ripping good arguments for years to come. Shakespeare's Bawdy is a fabulous tribute to the Bard`s command of Elizabethan slang. When it came to whores Shakespeare had no limits to the names he could tarnish a woman with strumpet, slattern, wench, adulteress, temptress, cuckolder, merry wife, debauncherer, stale, doxy and it goes on. Shame he was such a rubbish speller.

TECHNOLAGGARDS REJOICE! - Dinky DIY’s Guide to Being a Classy Late-Adopter

2009-09-03T19:21:00.000-07:00

Dinky DIY’s Guide to Being a Classy Late-Adopter

Still punching out your SMSs with two hesitant index fingers on spongy rubber buttons, applying careful punctuation? I know its hard being out of the loop when it comes to technology so here’s Dinky DIYs advice for being technologically retarded with dignity...

Book Your Face
There’s nothing sadder than a desperate housewife’s Facebook page filled with the results of the 25 quizzes she’s done since 9 am (No, you are not Elizabeth Bennett, Rita Hayworth or a “Neat Freak”, in fact you are just a bored and possibly drunk woman. Get offline and go watch Oprah.) Nor is there anything more tragic than being dragged through the ups and downs of an indiscreet couple’s constantly changing relationship status. But, there is nothing wrong with quietly slipping into Facebook society. Everyone will add you (your kids, your parents, your boss, your ex) because it is the ultimate popularity contest. Once there, why not stir things up a bit? Don’t tell us how cute your dog is or how great your darling is or how “over it” you are... Tell us the colour of your undies or better yet, that you have decided not to wear any today. Tell us that you have a dull throb in your frontal lobe and can’t recall how last night ended. Come out of the closet!? Anything but the same old crap. Your friends might freak but your neighbour may appreciate the new insight into your twisted mind.

Wiiiiiiiiiiii....
You never liked exercise anyway, right? So why get excited now that some lazy-ass computer game has you stretching and bending in the loungeroom? Because it’s so moronically, mind-numbingly entertaining you might work up a sweat just thinking about it. Just be mindful when seating your guests/co-players that they are scattered around the side and not directly behind where your wobbling arse will be on display when it comes to your turn in Wii Bowling.

Confessions of a Shopaholic
I know it was only that one time, but don’t you wish you hadn’t slipped that lippy up your sleeve down at Priceline all those months ago. Aside from the chat with the shopgirl who busted you (“Ah, madam...” “Oh thiiiiiiis yes, I wondered if you had it in a lighter shade? No, oh well I’ll just be going.”) being awkward to say the least, now you can’t go back for a cheap Revlon fix. A jolly smear from an Australis tester used to be that little upper you needed during a shopping outing but not anymore. A $3 nail polish to cheer up the afternoon! But alas, they have their eyes on you. Never fear, StrawberryNet is here. Online shopping to your heart’s content. New and FUN ways to max out your credit card from the comfort of your own home.

Chain of Fools
As soon as you open it, you know you should have hit delete and not gone there. The doom saying, damning threats of chain emails. Aside from the disturbing stories of what happens to those who don’t forward on, it’s always a depressing day when it says it must be sent to 10 friends and you realise you only have 6. Don’t be disheartened; channel your energy into penning your own.

THIS IS REALLY TRUE BECAUSE A LITTLE TWO HEADED GIRL-MONKEY IN TIMBUKTU LOOKED OUT OF HER WINDOW AND SAW THE TUMOUR SHRINKING ANGEL THAT SAVED HER LIFE AFTER HER PARENTS FORWARDED IT TO 6578920 FRIENDS.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Bill Gates will Give 1 BILLION BUCKS to all the HOMELESS & STARVING if you just pass this on and

MAKE A WISH.

I never send these things but this one really, super truly works!!! There was once a guy who ignored it and the next day he got on a plane that was heading two New York on the 11th of September 2001 and....
MAKE A WISH

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Scroll down

Keep scrolling..........

I swear it’s worth it.

YAY! Good wish (you sicko.)
Now send this to 28 people in your contact list otherwise you will never get laid again.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Also, what are your credit card details, otherwise you better not cross any roads again for the rest of your life or eat any food either or catch any planes or turn on any machines. Basically, if you don’t give me those details it should be safe to say you will live in constant fear and paranoia of the horrific, terrifying and just plain nasty things that could happen to you at any time.

Suckers.

Dinky DIYs Guide to Quaffing in Style

2009-07-24T07:42:00.001-07:00

Experimental Research: Like observational studies, experiments can be carried out either in the field or in the laboratoryOR Grogblog (if you`re disgusted, you didn`t read that properly.)

Don`t act all superior, I know you`ve played Goon of Fortune.

You`re not fooling me as you swill that drop into a tumble dry and poke your clueless nose into the glass. I know that after the first bottle you don`t know your Cabernet from a cabaret or your Pinot from a penile dysfunction.

But that`s what we`re all about here at DIY, hacks for life, friends. Hacks for life.

Bubblybabble: Can`t go wrong, I was told by a wine grower last week, if you announce you can smell/taste „Green apples“ triumphantly after a gulp of German rielsing. I was immediately in familiar territory, „Oh, the old woody tric.“ Known in previous generations as the „Smooth getaway“ (where you, similarly announce a wine is smooth when tasting, instantly letting yourself off the hook of ignorance….for now.) Chances are though, the guy next to you knows no better so just get creative and bust out a „buttery palette with hints of melon“ or a „spicy tannins and clove aromas“ and watch them turn green with envy. Get the down-low here .

Wet Spots: While I am blessed with the ability to slurp Creme de Menthe out of shag carpets leaving no trace of cocktail indescretions, I later learnt for moments when planting one`s face into the rug may be inappropriate there is salt. Now I just carry a shaker of the stuff around and throw it about like a shaman to ward off the evil spirits that conspire to have red wine spilt on shirts, skirts and carpets. Just douse all spots with salt. Convetional wisdom also says White Wine will lift the stains of Red Wine, like a textile and grog battle for cosmic balance. But whatever you do, DAB don`t rub. Muahahahhahahaha. Oh come on, I know I`m not the only one amused.

Spoiled Rotten: Nothing so embarrassing as cork rot for all involved. The host, the one who must speak up, the ones who didn`t notice… Then there`s the problem with the old screw. Don`t be a dag about it, we all know screw caps have broken down the barrier between tipplers and their buzz. Rejoice! For you no longer have to resort to stabbing desperately at a crumbling cork with the cheese knife as you try to push it back into the bottle so you can get to your nectar. Go for the screw everytime.

I`m Not Sshlurring: Wine tastings are by far the cheats way to learn about wine and drink loads for nothing. Next time you plan to go out, let your friends know you are hosting pre-drinks and find where the local free tasting is on. Just ask the people behind the bar lots of questions and look interested in the answers if you think the charity is starting to dwindle once your friends stop using their inside voices and start thaying shings like thish.

Whinewein: Despite the outcry, sales of Adolf Hitler Wine reached a record high after Brussels and Berlin try to ban it. "Getting sued was the best thing that could have happened," says winemaker Alessandro Lunardelli, who developed the wine after the success of his Mussolini label back home in Italy. Also available in a Goering edition, Adolf Hitler`s image is splashed across the label, arm raised in Nazi salute and the regime's motto "Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Fuehrer" underneath. It`s illegal to sell anything depicting Nazi symbols in Germany, cos they don`t want to tempt the crazy Aryans too much. But in Italy, well now, the sale of faschist souveniers is just fine! Lunardelli claims to move up to 30,000 bottles a year at highway petrol stations in Italy and probably spends most of the profits buying indulgences from the Catholic Church because he can feel the heat of Hell as it singes his toe-hairs.

Stay classy, team.

I See A Bad Moon Risin` OR Dinky DIYs Lighter Side of Climate Change

2009-07-16T13:28:00.000-07:00

Here We Go My Global Citizens and Dinky Dinksters lets ride this unseasonal wave…

Statistics say that while everyone likes to make noises about it the regular person actually doesn`t give a crap when it comes to the point where saving the planet means compromising our cushy little lifestyle choices. Boo hoo.

Sure we`ll have our Earth Hour dinner parties and recycle Christmas cards but walk instead of drive… hm. I guess it`s a world like that where comments like this can fly,

"We've got to pause and ask ourselves: How much clean air do we need?"

— Lee Iacocca, CEO/Chairman, Chrysler Corporation, 1979-1992

Umm…

So to help you giggle at the decidedly uncomfortable subject, here`s a glipse at the Lighter Side of Climate Change…

Consider Yourself Lucky: As one comedian put it, "In 50 years, my generation will be in its 70s and we'll be able to boast that we were the only generation to have contraception, iPods, cheap flights and an ozone layer." Well, when you say it like that, cool. Sucks to be your sperm, though, things are going to be really unpredictable when they grow up.

Become A Smug Hybrid Owner: Are these guys worse than smug-marrieds? I mean, are they prouder of themselves than organic only vegans or what? Wouldn`t you love to join the club? Give it a go, the DIY way. Some cars can actually run off vegetable oil . So next time you need to fill up, pull into Maccas instead of Shell and throw a bucket down the grease trap. And if your engine seizes then you will have to walk everywhere and become part of that super smug group.

When Sheryl Went Feral : “I propose a limitation be put on how many squares of toilet paper can be used in any one sitting. I think we are an industrious enough people that we can make it work with only one square per restroom visit, except, of course, on those pesky occasions where two to three could be required.” Sheryl Crowe on her simple solution to the environmental crisis we face.

Stay Together For The Earth: The Dallas News reported that divorce contributes to global warming because more than two households are needed. Way to guilt someone out of dumping you, „This isn`t just about your life, its about the planet, Megan.“

Hot Sweats: I started talking about global warming, rising temperatures, rising waters and climate change with an old Oma the other day and the poor duck stared really hard at me, finally saying, „Oh dear, and you`re so young to be going through the Change.“ She also couldnt figure out why I was so worried about the poles „We bombed the bejesus out of them back in the 40`s, sweetheart, there`s nothing to worry about, now.“ Make like old people and pretend like you never heard anything about it, „Tsunami, did you say? No I just want Super Supreme thanks.“

Here`s A great Big Cup of Shut The Eff Up: Dish that one up next time you hear someone blowing a lot of hot air…. Afterall, they are contributing to the growing hole in the ozone.

Support Plane Hijackers: You gotta admit, all these terrorist attacks and plane crashes are stopping people from flying which is becomign one of the worst contributors to pollution these days. Be sure to tell everyone how terrifying your last plane trip was, exaggerate turbulance and the quality of the food. Scare people away from these budget flights and get them back to more environmentally sound options like hitchhiking and rowboating.

Lonely Planet: And while we`re talking travel, look at all the new possibilities the melting ice caps are opening up for us. Iceland might be broke but it can bail itself up by becoming the next must be seen in Riviera. The bloated carcasses of dead polar bears floating by won`t be all that off-putting once you get used to the smell.

Did you hear they cancelled Autumn? Here`s some real hilarity from the good folks at The Onion.

I feel the hurricane blowin'
I know the end is coming soon.
I see the river's overflowin'
I hear the voice to raise the ruin.

Hope you got your things together.
Hope you are quite prepared to die.
I think we're in for nasty weather.
Hold on we'll take you for a ride

-John Fogerty

Nice Weather We`re Having....

2009-07-14T06:58:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, stop staring. You don`t need to mention it, my headlights are on but let me tell you it has zilch to do with arousal. I`m bloody freezing.

I have been consistantly complaining about the weather since I got here and it never gets better. I don`t believe in acclimatisation. It`s a lie, these people are just as cold as me… they just don`t know better…. Or perhaps they think they are unworthy of a better, warmer, sun-tingly life.

Not my problem.

My problem is wearing socks in high summer during the day and sheepskin lined jackets. That`s my problem.

Way to bring me down, NORTHERN WIND.

Now, I could give you helpful tutorials on wheatpacks for snuggling up to at night (you know, those microwaved things that explode in bed and scald your toesies off) or a How To on crocheted bedsocks. But who am I kidding, these guys do stuff like that way better. Instead I will do what I do best.

Whinge.

The piddling offering of five days of sunshine and sporatic bursts of sunrays has been most distressing. A schitzophrenic excuse for a summer which, if you believe the TV ads, is already over because Fall Collection is about to hit the shops.

I almost fell off the couch when I saw that.

“Um WTF?? Autumn, already??“
“Well yes,“ comes the calm, measured reply, “we`ve already had the longest day.“

As though that explains it.

In response to my concerns, a lovely middle aged older woman informed me that she doesn`t need to buy winter pyjamas since she has her Viktor, much to the delight of all the other Europeans present. They practically wee themselves when domestic chatter turns even vaguely kinky. Viktor sat there smirking as the innuendo flew and I had to compose my mouth so that no-one knew I was gagging.
I`m polite like that.

So, I`m like Queen of the SAD club right now. Chomping down carbs and sulkily refusing to be glam because the effing rain doth maketh my hair frizzy (and smell like wet dog onion beer) and I can`t be bothered pulling out my nice warm clothes that I gleefully banished to vacuum packing months ago when Winter supposedly ended.

And I have to take, like, 3 showers a day just to stop myself from hibernating. But don`t worry, they clearly don`t have a water problem here because it darn well rains all the bloody time.

In fact, the Russian told me that Europe has a problem with people not utilising the water system enough, causing issues with pipes needing extra maintenance and dams overfilling.

Cos, y`know, they don`t bathe much here on the continent and are obsessed with drinking mineral water out of glass bottles. O.b.s.e.s.s.e.d.

So funny. Guidebooks actually advise you don`t ask for tap-water in restaurants so as not to offend. I have seen waitstaff get narky about it. Bahahahahha.

But the most hilarious thing is that they have delightful, sparkling, alpine-fresh tap water in most parts of Europe I have seen lately*. Yet they are morbidly afraid of the stuff. You should see the panic I induce when I start filling a glass from the kitchen tap. They stare aghast or hurl Evian at me like I`m on fire and need to be doused.

Anyway, I know you know where this is all heading. Shortly I will be dispatching a guide to you all on coping with global warming and other environmental hazards... just as soon as my fingers defrost.

*DO NOT EVER drink the tap water in Russia. That stuff shares the chemical recipe of paint stripper.

Not Like Old Times

2009-07-04T02:53:00.000-07:00

Things have changed around this place,

The whole world`s turned a little poker faced

And the Dow Jones, well it leaves bad taste… these days.

Good times gone in a St Elmos fire,

Subprime for sale, but nobody`s a buyer,

I used to like banking but I think I need a new car-aeyer…in some ways.

But, uPon-zie my word! I`ll take my hat off,

To the pyramid dreams of Bernie Madoff.

Okay, he was a bit of a gazumper

But credit, please, what style, what chutzpah!

Well I suppose all good things must come to an end.

But, oh, it was just starting to feel like the 80s again.

No more tweets from my peeps on this Blackberry mine,

If you have a job you`re working overtime,

All work no play, bah! It`s a crime… but it pays.

No first class, no catering, no none of that,

And just when the coke lines were getting fat,

The prices shot up, now we`re chewing khat… these days.

Folks are looking shaky, the word is depression,

How can you self medicate in such a recession?

Losing minds, losing jobs and all losing houses,

It`s then when those louses go back to their spouses.

Marilyn told Madonna and she said it, my friend,

It was just strating to feel like the good times again.

I voted Democrats but now, oh mama,

He`s sure in the snake pit, Mr Obama.

Nigga puhleese, China bought Hummer!? ...so they says.

Didn`t they give us all a scare,

Those weapons of mass destruction that seem not be there?

It`s a lot of pressure for North Korea to bare… in some ways.

They say Osama`s dead, but show us the stiff,

Ice caps are melting but warming`s a myth.

Guantanamo`s closing and Iraq`s over, phew

And we`re all stocked up on Tamiflu!

It`s hard to know if things are up or down,

With all the spam thats going around.

Think twice next time before you hit send,

Ah, if only it was like in the 90s again.

Yep, we`re saving our pennies but how we want to spend,

Guess history repeats itself again and again.

Dinky DIY's Guide to Kookaburra Troubles Down Under

2009-06-30T05:51:00.000-07:00

OR Get a Laugh Outta This

I come from a land down under

Where beer does flow and men chunder

Cant you hear, cant you hear the thunder?

You better run, you better take cover

It's quite rare in the Great Southern Land, that you hear of a music industry scandal… so let's enjoy this one thoroughly.

I remember the gratingly annoying Don Spencer (that dorkus malorkus from Playschool circa 1987) bleating out the lyrics ad nauseum of Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree and maybe you do too. Or maybe you were treated to this stupid song some other way (miserable Scouts camps come to mind) because, as everyone knows, if its got a bush animal in it, the song immediately becomes part of the Holier Than Thou Australian Songbook, to be hummed along to with reverence at church fetes, school band recitals and when played at 3am on rural radio stations by all patriots.

Don't get me wrong. Some of the tunes that belong to this canonical collection are brilliant. Kookaburra just isn't. Men At Work's classic (I Come From A Land ) Down Under on the other hand, is.

That's why it went to number 1 on the US, UK and Aussie charts in 1983, won the band a Grammy for Best New Artist and help sell 30 million albums. This is also why whenever intoxicated Australians gather it creates great excitement and merrymaking when played.

When the Australia II won the Americas Cup it was the yachts anthem. One of the godawful Crocadile Dundee sequels used it and, for crying out loud, it was played at the 2000 Closing Ceremony.

It's sacred.

Get ready to laugh.

So, Larrikin Music owns the el lamo rights to Kookaburra (first penned in 1934 for a Girl Guides Victoria jamboree) and are suing Down Under songwriters Colin Hay and Ron Strykert, and record companies EMI and Sony, for breach of copyright and unpaid royalties.

Larrikin claims the flute riff was ripped off from the original song`s refrain. Muahahahhhahahaha.

Here is a sample from the older jingle- please note the last line.

Can you imagine what primary school kids do to this song?

One noteworthy example:

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree
Screwing all the magpies he can see
Stop! Kookaburra,
Stop! Kookaburra,
That one's got VD!

But I digress.

Apparently the commotion started when ABC TV cult music show Spicks And Specks raised the possibility of a connection between the songs in 2007. Immediately, Larrikin managing director Norman Lurie launched the court fight.

The original writer of Kookaburra is long dead and had signed the rights over to the Libraries Board of South Australia who sold out bigtime and flogged them to Larrikin, who is clearly clutching at straws here.

Anyway, this is so not about Intellectual Property. This is about an evil music manager tearing strips from a glorious Aussie icon. Larrikin needs to get hip to postmodernism and realise that even if Men at Work did copy 5 seconds of melody from this dumbass ditty, they did a damn fine job. He needs to chillax and have a Vegimite sandwich.

P.S. I am struggling with finding Luthie`s or Larrikin`s contact details. This is all I could get and would heartily commend prankings involving kookaburra laughings sounds, campfire singalongs of the song he so loves and barside bellowings of the song he seems to hate so much. Just an idea...

Dinky Pick-up Lines OR Come Here Often?

2009-06-23T08:16:00.000-07:00

Is it hot in here or is it just you?

Love’s a bitch, so there’s no way I’m attempting a difinitive guide…even though I know all the secrets. .. owing to my inpenetrable wisdom.

In time, young grasshoppers.

Instead I offer you a dinky little look into the world of pick-up lines…

El Lamo –

If I said you had a great body, would you hold it against me?
Are you lost? Because heaven is a long way from here.
Do you have any Italian/English/Guatamalen/Whatever in you… Do you want some?
Your dress would look great on the floor next to my bed.

The worst I ever heard has stayed with me from adolescence. Expressed in the exquisite bastardisation of the English language that goes on in wilderness of the western suburbs of Sydney (and no doubt elsewhere in Australia) where thinking becomes finking and it all sounds like it is coming from a mouth stuffed full of cotton wool. It was from such a furry teenage mouth that the cry "You are my darling and this is our Harbour!" was directed at my best friend as we strolled through the iconic landmark one Saturday night. Other localised attempts here including the classic "I'd love to didgeridoo you"

Call to action - The main problem with this Casanova’s effort was the lack of a "call to action" to use marketing lingo. Naturally there was some implication but it’s too easy to shrug lines like this off. Like the Italians catcalling to female pedestrians bellissimaaaaaa! she will just walk by nonchalently or blushing furiously, depending on the girl. (FYI to do otherwise would be taken as a huge come on and you could expect to be stalked 10 blocks by amorous male.) Nice shoes… wanna f*@k was doing the rounds when I was younger. Complement + call to action + vaguely amusing in downright bluntness. I have never known it to work, though.

Breeder Tactics - Michael Douglas’ pick-up line for Madame Zeta-Jones made headline news when it was revealed. He went for the controversial breeder tactic and started talkin babies. Catherine told Tarts that when she first met the old codger, "Straight away he was very direct that he wanted to be the father of my children. So that was it..." Nothing like a tug at the phantom umbilical cord to get the biological ticker going!

The Game – The game just cracks me up. Bahahahahahahhha. Honestly, I know so many single blokes who swear by it because it gave them the strategies to bed one decent girl. If you don’t know about it, best be informed. It’s this book subtitled Penetrating the Secret Society of Pick-up Artists an apparently true story where the author is turned from a hopeless dud with women to suave pick up master after meeting a secret society of experts. Please, read more about the dumbess here . The man who invented many of the techniques lines his eyes with kohl, does magic tricks and calls this "peacocking". I don’t know about the pea part…

Think Outside the…ehem…Box - Weird Al Yankovic put some classics and some personal innovations to music in his song "Wanna B Ur Lovr"

Your eyes are even bluer
Than the water in my toilet

Your face is real symmetrical
And your nostrils are so nice
I wish that I was cross-eyed, girl
So I could see you twice

Say, has anyone ever told you
You've got Yugoslavian hands?
No, of course not, that would be stupid
Just forget I ever brought it up

I wanna be your beef burrito
Am I making this perfectly clear?
I wanna be your love torpedo
Are you picking up the subtle innuendo here?

It’s all a bit cheesy and sleazy but be honest, if you’ve made your mind up one way or another does it really matter what they say?

DIY Guide to the Biennale

2009-06-21T06:35:00.000-07:00

My tour of Venice for the wonderful gentlemen at Design Federation.

Dinky DIY's Guide to Pirates

2009-06-17T03:45:00.000-07:00

Fifteen men of the whole ship's list

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!

Dead and bedamned and the rest gone whist!

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!

The skipper lay with his nob in gore

Where the scullion's axe his cheek had shore And the scullion he was stabbed four times four

And there they lay, and the soggy skies Dripped down in up-staring eyes

In murk sunset and foul sunrise

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.

Good gracious who doesn’t get the bejeebies when they read that? Who doesn’t get a chill as their blood turns sea shanty salted? Ahh, who doesn’t wish to be a pirate?

Lurking ninjas, begone.

I met one the other day. She was grand. Shy was her name, but she was a walking comic strip of tats, so I doubt that it was an apt one... perhaps parody... piratey parody.

This be her.

There's been a lot of piratical happenings of late and I want my DIYers to be well informed land lubbers so here is Dinky DIY's Guide to Pirates;

Modern Day Buccaneers So you have the show stealing Somali pirates who terrorize the coast of west Africa these days and while probably no less terrifying than the classical pirates, I’d take a guess and say they were a bit light on the Shiver me Timbersness and heavy on the machine gunness. But apparently they still have a way with the ladies, as one modern day pirate told Time "Even now, pirates are marrying the most beautiful ladies, with nonstop dancing at weddings that go a couple of days." Good to see they be merry making with there pieces of eight. But then, wait a sec... The Huffington Post's John Hari says there's a bit more to this story .

Talk the Talk or Walk the Plank Australia doesn’t really do pirates, we are more a bushranging people (which is a whole other, and rather superior, artform) but we do participate in the official Talk Like A Pirate Day. September 19^th people, pencil it in. Information is here on yaaarrr.com “To err is human, but to arrr is pirate!” That just cracks me up.

DIY Guide to Pirate Speak:

Only speak in the present tense. So it is "I be" "they be" as opposed to "I am" or "they are."
Double up your adjectives. Don't say never, say "No nay ne'er!"* (see rule 4)
Drop all "g's". Like "fightin'", "sailin'" smellin'".
Drop your "v's" for advanced Pirate Speak. "ne'er", "o'er" and ye be ha'in' people strainin' to understand ye.

More here and here .

Swashbuckling Swedes In Sweden, they actually have a political party called The Pirate Party, which only earlier this month won 7.1 per cent of votes, taking one of Sweden's 18 seats in the European parliament. Founded in 2006 it owes its popularity to controversial laws adopted in Sweden that criminalise filesharing and authorise monitoring of emails. Membership shot up notably after a Stockholm court on April 17 sentenced four Swedes to a year in jail for running one of the world's biggest filesharing sites, The Pirate Bay. Methinks there’s still a bit of Viking boiling in their blood.

Mutiny on the Bounty Our pacific neighbours don’t really have much to report on the pirate front, but they do have a damn good tale of Mutiny... which is almost just as good.

Today Pitcairn Island bears that embarrassing stench of something not-quite-right buried under piles of shit-flinging and blame shifting. Kiddy rape will do that . But before the Pitcairners dirty laundrey was aired, they did have quite a romantic air about them. The descendants of mutinous sailors on the run from the law, they have their own Creole language spoken today, a mix of Tahitian and 18^th Century English which includes such gold expressions as, “We hypocrited ‘em.” Fletcher Christian, the mastermind, with his tiny band of rogues and Tahitian wives stumbled upon the island while seeking a hideout from a British Navy, who were after them for their efforts in heisting the good ship Bounty. The population exploded and many of the islanders were moved to settled on the bigger Norfolk Island nearby, bringing their cultural troubles with them. Mark Twain perhaps best summed up the root of the island people’s problems in his fiction from the 1903’s The Great Revolution in Pitcairn ,

“You speak of that young woman as your cousin; a while ago you called her your aunt.”

“Well, she is my aunt, and my cousin, too,” came the reply. “And also my step-sister, my niece, my fourth cousin, my thirty-third cousin, my forty-second cousin, my great-aunt, my grandmother, my widowed sister-in-law—and next week she will be my wife.”

Feisty Femmes You might have heard of the terrifying likes of lasses like stark mad Carribean pirate Anne Bonny but according to the good book Wikipedia, Australia has a grand dame of diabolical digressions! So, there we have Charlotte Badger originally of Worcestershire, England and sentenced to Australia for nicking a silk hanky... which was apparently to help out her hungry family. I fail to see how the hanky would have helped but anyhoo... Charlotte and her galpal Catherine Hegarty were on a ship with their boyfriends after serving their miserable sentences in Aussieland, convinced the blokes to mutiny and took off for NZ. So you see, kids, this is why you shouldn't copy Wikipedia for school assignments, use the references at the bottom of the article instead, otherwise you take the risk of announcing to the world Australia has its own female pirate when in fact, we clearly don't, the Kiwis do.

Johnny Come Lately It was widely reported that Johnny Depp was making the folks at Disney nervous on set during the his experimental redering of Jack Sparrow, who he says was based on Keith Richards. But arrrr, he surely championed the swoonmaking swashbuckler.

Ahhhh... I mean ARghhHHhhhrrrrrr!

On Stomping The Worm

2009-06-11T14:03:00.000-07:00

Introduction:

Or XAIPE!

Get happy.

Get up.

Get going.

Get out.

Get in.

Get with it.

Get. a. life.

There is a curling, squirming, burrowing dark worm inside every soul. You might be able to squish it for now, but it just splits in half and lays low for a while.

But then, it’s just a worm.

You’re a gigantic beast compared to a worm.

Stomp the worm and smile. For now, it’s good enough.

Dinky Diy`s Guide to Controversial Pav - Aussies vs. Kiwis

2009-06-05T00:51:00.000-07:00

OR, In which Australia turns a twinkle toes into a cake.

Being the outstanding ambassador I am for our proud nation, I was racking my brain to think of cultural oddities and historical anecdotes that may capture the imaginations of the rather unimpressed Russians. Something that might link our two proud nationalities together as brethren, other than a mutual dislike of Hitler.

..And it was then that I remembered Anna.

Internationally celebrated Russian prima ballerina, Anna Matveyevna Pavlova (1881-1931), toured both Australia in 1926 and again in 1929, which is kind of odd because in these pre-multimedia times, Down Under was a bit of an outpost for all things cosmopolitan and culturally sophisticated back then.

Oh, we knew about the latest trends... just two years after they were hip. A bit like Kazakhstan now.

So, we can only speculate that bookings were coming a bit far and few between for ol`Anna if she was making the long haul to dance for the Perth elite.

As you can imagine, this tour made pretty big news in Oz. She also happened to stop by New Zealand during this tour and it is here that the squabble begins.

"A symphony of silence! So Pavlova has been described," began the report in the West Australian on Tuesday, July 9, 1929. "But who, seeing the famous ballerina for the first time as she stood on the deck... at Fremantle yesterday, could apply the description? It was Babel itself!" The reporter managed to share her cab into Perth... "They are funny, these Australians," she pronounced in the cab.

The sensation Anna whipped up when she soared on air across these Southern stages inspired the light, frothy meringue desert, Pavlova (pav-LOH-vuh), that both countries controversially claim as their national dish.

The chef of a hotel in Wellington, NZ was reportedly so taken by Pavola`s costume, draped in green silk cabbage roses, that he went into a creative frenzy with fruit (legend has it he was a bit of a Kiwi-fruit himself, but that`s another story.) He crafted the shape with a meringue case, the netting of her tutu was suggested by whipped cream and he turned to sliced kiwifruit, then known as Chinese gooseberries, for the roses.

In 1934 at The Esplanade Hotel in Perth, the licensee Mrs. Elizabeth Paxton was doing a roaring trade with her popular afternoon teas. She had asked her chef, Bert Sachse, to devise a special desert for these highly sought after occasions, that might titillate the gossipy tea drinkers. After a month of experimentation, Sachse presented the now familiar pavlova recipe which, according to local legend, was so named by the hotel manager after remarking, "It is as light as Pavlova".

Bert Sachse said in a magazine interview in 1973 that he was trying to improve the Meringue Cake, a prize-winning recipe from the "Women's Mirror" edition of April 2, 1935. The recipe was contributed by "Rewa"of Rongotai, NZ... hmm.

"In the "Good Food Guide" to British Isles restaurants in 1977 referred to the pavlova as the Kiwi`s but changed the entry the next year to say it was Aussie. Hilary Fawcett, who compiled the glossary, wrote about the change: "There does seem to be some controversy as to whether the wretched thing originated in NZ or Australia and I was reduced to doing a straw-vote count."

"It is possible, if ungenerous, to deride the pavlova for culinary innocence. It was adopted from New Zealand. Yet Herbert Sachse made a genuine, crystallising contribution. The pavlova served its original purpose admirably. It then caught the popular imagination. Distilling the Australian concept of sweet living, it is the single great discovery thus far of our cooking."

The Russians looked at me blankly. Maybe Anna was right, we Australians are funny ones, honouring a ballerina with a meringue cake. But then, it has secured her place in our folkloric traditions far better than her Dying Swan managed.

Then suddenly, Mrs. Russian, through laboured translations, remembered childhood summers at her grandmother`s dacha, where she would be fed homemade bizet or meringues. She rushed (Why are you Rush`n? Bahahahahahahahahahahahahha, what`s that you say? A Dad joke? Carefacter: 0) into the kitchen and started baking.

Turns out the Russians call meringue bizet after French composer Georges, the guy who wrote the opera Carmen. I wonder what he did for the Russians that made them think light and frothy?

Mini Bloody Awesome Pav`s – Bite Sized Deliciousness

Ingredients

2 egg whites
1/2 cup (110g) caster sugar
300ml thickened cream, whipped
fresh strawberries, kiwi fruit, bananas sliced for topping*
2 passionfruit, pulped

Method

Preheat oven to 150°C. Line 2 baking trays with baking paper. Place egg whites into a clean bowl. Beat with electric beaters until soft peaks form. Gradually add caster sugar, beating well between each addition. Beat until mixture is thick and glossy - this will take at least 5 minutes.
Spoon heaped teaspoonfuls of the mixture onto baking trays. Flatten meringue into a disc. Bake for 20-25 minutes or until crisp. Cool completely in the oven with the door ajar.
Top meringue with whipped cream and a teaspoon or two of passionfruit pulp. Decorate with fruit and serve.

*Toppings in a recipe like this beg to be experimented with. I have had mocha, rum cream with forest berries and chopped pistachios, I have seen grated chocolate sprinkled over the lot, more tropical combos of mango, pineapple along with the regular strawberry/kiwi mix. Go crazy with this one, you would be hard pressed to get it really wrong.

DIY Guide to Hogwashing the Stupid Swine Flu

2009-05-29T11:25:00.001-07:00

Or Oink Oink, Cough.

I`m just loving the pandemic pandemonium.

It truly brings out the moron in everyone. I have some Aussie kin stockpiling and getting their knickers in a knot since a P & O Cruise became all infected on the high seas of northern Australia and turned into a floating media freakout.

Normally in Australia when there`s any issue at sea, they just start chucking people overboard . I was so waiting for that to start happening.

Anyways, here you have it…

Dinky DIY`s Guide to Surviving Swine Flu

Medicinal Mix-up When authorities find the dead woman with her undies around her bloated, bluish face in your cabin be sure you and your buddies pass off the GHB they find in her blood as a Tamiflu mix-up. Relenza sounds so like Rohypnol ...anyone could make that mistake.

Fashions of the Flu The industrious Mexicans have jumped on this opportunity to provide to the eager market options for the fashionable swine flu facemask.

My tip is the cute little Miss Piggy snout or try this flambostic and crafty take on the new look. But then when it comes time for Aussie`s to put them on, I reckon someone should get them made up saying Chk Chk Boom!… the ticking timebomb of plague.

Mwah Mwah, Darloink! According to The Huffington Post

“A single sneeze propels 100,000 droplets into the air at around 90 mph, landing on door knobs, ATM keypads, elevator buttons, escalator railings, and grocery cart handles… as many as 150 commuters can be sickened by one uncovered achoo."

Normally my solution would be to take to air kissing but the NY Times says even that`s a faux pas now. Sigh. Good manners just fly out the door when a pandemic comes to town.

I Vant To Be Alone "Social Distancing" is actually being recommended by world governments. This is the fancypants term for staying away from people. Yay! Another triumph for our already paranoid, alienated, disconnected modern world. You didn`t feel like going to your wife`s highschool reunion before but now you have the perfect excuse Sorry honey, W.H.O says socialising is out… and I was so looking forward to it. Or your whingy best mate wants to drag you along to another humiliating singles night in her desperate attempt to feel young and desirable again. But o-oh… It`s just this swine flu thing, spreading like wildfire! Young singles are the incubators. Better stay at home and watch The Hills.

We`re All Doomed! The bacon sickness is obviously the Wrath of God punishing the Mexicans for that South American priest indugling in his great big sex romp with a single mother on the beach and the rest of us for global warming. Pray furiously and consider smiting the kids yourself… grotty little spreaders kids can be. And teenagers! With their sinful CyberSpacebook, Twittering and Sexting crazes, their oversexualised exuberence, their tweeny teeny fleshlicious MTVness. They are all over each other in unholy swine saliva swapping. Don`t close down the schools, use them as lures to round up these wretches en masse and them them wipe out the future together.

Spicey Can Be Dicey Shikimic acid is a major active ingredient in Tamiflu and it comes from star anise. But it aint gonna help despite Chinatown herbalists doing a roaring trade on anise during bird flu and again this time round. The raw material ''goes through several intermediate steps [to become Tamiflu], and some of them are very toxic," said Norman Farnsworth, director of University of Illinois at Chicago. We suggest buy shares in star anise farms (there are some in NSW) and sip on your Pernod Anise for good measure, it`ll give you a nice buzz and help you forget the lunacy this sooky flu is causing.

A Pommy Cow and a Chinese Chicken walked a bar in Cancun… but Australians should be alerted the Koala Cough which originated in the town camps of Northern Territory where hygiene is notoriously bad. Medical experts suspect that petrol sniffers were coming into dazed contact with the infected animals and transmitting the illness through all their other filthy habits.

It is said to be spreading rapidly throughout the country mainly because of the stimulus package promoting local travel and thus encouraging folk into the infection zone around Uluru.

Symptoms include drowsiness developing into extreame fatigue whereby the victim loses motivation to do even the simplest of tasks beyond slow chewing.

Demographics most at risk are IT, Real Estate and Finance sector workers recently made redundant due to their oversexed nature. Koala cough CAN be spread by sharing sushi dinners and taxi cabs.

Be vigilant! Suggested treatment; turn off the television, throw out the newspapers and turn down talkback. Try buying out of manufactured panic. Experiment with not living in a constant state of fear.

All the same, if you sprout a curly-wirly tail, might want to drop by your GPs.

DIY Guide to Hotels, Motels and Bonk Stops

2009-05-26T22:16:00.000-07:00

OR Hotel World

En route from Austria to here (Germs as I like to call the Vaterland) my car broke down. Right near this country`s seediest hotel.

Definitely 100% sure it was a highway-side shagging hotel.

This one appeared to be frequented by child groomer-looking types that wear eighties tennis shoes with suits. It was shudder inducing entertainment to watch the human tide that ebbed in and out the Casino door while we drank Burger King coffee and waited for roadside assist.

I am totally mesmerised by the magic of hotels and when your feet are as itchy as mine, you end up staying in loads of them.

The luxury of crisply laundered linen and wide tiled bathrooms. The way the towels, tissues and toilet paper are delicately folded into welcoming origamis . And don`t get me started on hotel lobbies! The poised possibility of these intersection is irrisistibly thrilling.

Dinky DIYs Guide to Hotels, Motels and Bonk Stops.

Hotel Life Be alert when approaching hotels or motels on dark desert highways. These joints might look nice, though remember you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave. I once stayed in a youth hostel in Tel Aviv that was full of slightly off characters who had forgotten hotels were usually transitional places. It was fun to begin with but then just got scary.

Stars In Her Eyes . Ten year old me was so overwhelmed by the grandeur of five star foyeurs that I would immediately take to calling my brother Alex, Sander and inexplicably rolling my r`s.

Mini Me Mini bars are the ultimate test of self discipline and the lonely room culture of motels. I`ve seen them undo perfectly normal human beings… is it the mininess that is so novel? Tiny little bottles and pint sized packets are speaking to you from behind the itty bitty fridge door. Devour me, they cry, ravage me at $6.95 a pop charged straight to your card.

Truck-Stop Terror Driving north last year I was caught in a deluge that refused to ease up and forced me into the Bates Motel of Ballina, NSW. I hardly slept a wink under my fly-spotted, moth-eaten synthetic bedspread listening to truckies talking through the paper thin walls, with their distinctly Wolf Creek gravelly voices. Horror. I skidaddled first thing in the morning before I came across Norman... or his Mother.

Boutique in BrisVegas Once in Brisbane I stayed here and I`m convinced this is the best place to stay in town. Funky rooms, big TV, walking distance to everything you need PLUS internet and complimentary coissant breakfast at very decent rates. The discerning travellers first choice for Brissy. (they should pay me for this kind of love.)

Doing the Continental I`ve had pretty rocking breakfast experiences the world over but became very fond of having eggs fried in front of me in all the B and Bs of Vietnam. Complimentary breakfast... When they mention this as they hand me the key, my knees unfailingly go weak. Along with late check out I`m not sure there is anything I would rather hear come out of the mouth of a bellhop. Maybe, Oh and Madam, a message from Mr Clooney, your ballgown is hanging in the closet and the limo will collect you from the lobby at eight. That would also be nice.

Heartbreak Hotel There`s nothing like balling in a hotelroom alone to make you feel like a washed up rockstar. Mini bar self-medicating and other demons often lurk in the wrong room at the wrong time. But, be astute. If the bell hops tears keep flowin and the desk clerk is dressed in black. They have probably been so long on lonely street they aint ever gonna look back and you would be better off shelling out the extra dosh to get a nice spa suite and treat yourself to dinner. Trust me, those dodgy joints are supposed to get you thinking Michael Hutchence thoughts. Get out!

We haven`t had that spirit here since 1969. Unregistered guests have been known to overstay their visit to hotels by hundreds of years. Yep, I`m talking the supernatural kind that rattle chains up hallways and run ice cold hands down your neck. Check out the world`s most haunted hotels here.

Great Aussie Hotels

Lake Argyle Village is on the edge of the most spectacular views, motel is 1950s pastel paradise
Victoria Hotel Rutherglen must stay for the June Queens Birthday Winery Walkabout
El Questro actually means nothing in Spanish or any other language. But it sounds cowboy cool. This place was once a free loving utopia that, as they all do, failed and is now in the very commercial hands of wiser folk. Christ, it`s amazing though.
Grey Gum Lodge, Nimbim. Best bargain and best kept secret place to stay up here (even though its flooding at the moment.) The owner, I think her name is Shirley, is a pretty interesting lady and has a flair for shabby chic sans the shabby.

DIY Guide to Genius

2009-05-24T03:00:00.000-07:00

Or Stand Tall, Poppies

Are you a smart cookie seeking hope? Or a dopey drawers looking for a clue?

This may help…

Dinky DIYs Guide to Genius

Blow off school. This is step one to achieving genius. Do not matriculate, this could completely spoil your plans of genius. Einstein flunked high school, Bill Gates dropped out of uni, chess freak Bobby Fisher didn`t graduate but they are all pretty fondly remembered for being sharp. Thomas Edison barely made it out of kindy and Winston Chuchill ended up in a secondary military school but only after trying at the entrance exam three times. Bit of a bummer if you already went through the whole shebang. Prepare yourself for medoicrity?

Get nuts. Blessed are the cracked for they shall let in the light.

You know how they say you can be too smart for your own good, well there is some suggestion that geniuses are more likely to be loony tunes than your average Joe Blow. Many were swinging on a bipolar pendulum others were hearing voices, some were a little OCD (or a lot). Pythagoras started out cool but then possibly went a bit… obtuse. He founded his own religion and believed beans were evil. Scholar Samuel Johnson was plagued with unsettling ticks we now know to be tourettes syndrome and was gloomily suicidal. Kafka and Proust were both hypochondriacs.

Neglect personal hygiene. Michaelangelo was definitely smarter than the average bear but he was also a filthy grot with no personal regard for his body odour or cleanliness. You`ve seen the frizzled state of Einstein`s hair, he could use a good honey oats treatment and he used to pick up used butts of the street to smoke the tobacco. Celebrated inventor Nikola Tesla (who was vioently repulsed by pearls) was obsessed with pigeons to the point where he would wander around Central Park covered in the birds and their poop. Fortunately he remained celibate because he thought it helped his science.

Be Male…. Ok ok ok, not so! But one does find a rather alarming tiltage in the literature towards blokes. This is, naturally, because women have a better grasp on modesty and reserve. But if you want to blow the booby trumpet look no further than the Brontes, in particular Charlotte the grand dame of chick lit and passionate child hater. Otherwise try ol` Hypatia of Alexandria (feminist icon from roman antiquity, she was mathematical, philosophical and a bit of a stir, the latter possibly causing her murder by a mob) or the aptly named Marilyn vos Savant.

Suicide outta here! Van Gough started by cutting off an ear and sculling glasses of turps only to finish checking himself out with a bullet to the chest. Empedocles did it, but he didn`t really mean to. So conviced was he that he was godlike, he hurtled himself into Mount Etna with a band of witnesses who he had promised to return to in moments. Needless to say, all they got back was a clever smelling puff of smoke.

Be a patient corpse. Real genius comes to those who wait... a loooong time. Most accepted geniuses achieve the coveted status well after they have died young, sick and impoverished.

Then again, it may all be overrated. As Stephen Hawking put it, "People who boast about their IQ are losers."

FYI

In Aussieland we have Tall Poppy Syndrome which is a particularly ungenerous aspect of the Australian collective pysche where we like to cut down those folk who rise above the rest... like a poppy gone all gangly and out of control.

In Germany, where I am bunkered down this week, they have Schadenfreunde (Schaden: damage, harm; Freude: joy) a distantly related local concept where the Germans take great delight in the misfortunes of others.

We like to keep the bastards down, our German friends like to see them fall over. Which would you prefer?

DIY Maintain Your Epic Rivalry

2009-05-20T06:18:00.001-07:00

Read my article for Design Federation here on infamous rivals in the creative field and be inspired by the greats on new and exciting ways to defame, disgrace and drive your arch nemesis nuts.

Now while many of you might not like political blogs I do need to be sure my thoughts are reaching the right people so I am working from the assumption that everyone hear is aligned, as I am, with the side of the Pirate. Ninjas begone. This is no place for you...

Confused? You must be old.
Read here and here for more information and act like you totally always knew that.

Dilly Dilly Gin Drunk

2009-05-12T03:44:00.000-07:00

OR DIY Joins the Lavender Mafia (and you thought that was just a right wing myth!)

There is a very wonderful man named Robert who runs the cocktail bar at the Rose of Australia Hotel, next to the train station at Erskineville in Sydney’s inner west. This is, by the way, my favourite pub in Sydney and I cannot speak highly enough about the beer battered fries or the staff.

But Robert is extra special. He’s like a cocktail whisperer. The concoctions he brews behind the bar are frothing fantasies of fruity flavour and his wicked sense of humour can be glimpsed in the cheeky appellations he bestows upon his creations.

If you happen to be in there, do say hello from the Russian and I.

Some of the neatest tricks Robert taught us were his infusions. He flavoured spirits with exotic spices and additions. For example, the main ingredient in his Monica Lewinsky is cigar infused vodka. He actually had a vat of Absolut that he would rotate Wee Willam cigars in. Wonderful stuff!

One infusion he didn’t do but which I happily stumbled upon at the Breakfast Creek Hotel in Brisbane was Lavender infused Gin. I don’t believe they do it anymore, but I am rather partial to a bit of Mother's Ruin and I bet you are too so never fear, Dinky DIY is here!

And since I have this periwinkle wild flower on the brain at the moment, I have a whole carpet bag full of lavender blue dilly dilly tricks!

Lavender is a member of the mint family (bet you didn’t know that) and flowers or leaves can be used fresh and both buds and stems can be consumed after drying.

English Lavender is the most commonly used variety in cooking as it’s sweetest. Don’t be buying it from the flower shop and whacking it into anything unless you feel like choking down on persticides, you either have to track down some culinary quality stuff or grow it yourself which is a piece of cake.

INGREDIENTS

1 1/2 teaspoons dried lavender
1 (750 ml) bottle gin, (naturally I only drink Sapphire Bombay but whatever.)

DIRECTIONS

Add lavender to gin and allow to infuse for 1 day. Strain and store.

PROVENCALE COCKTAIL

INGREDIENTS

2 1/2 parts lavender-infused gin
2 1/2 parts Vermouth de Provence
1 part Cointreau
Ice
twist of orange rind for garnish

DIRECTIONS

Combine gin, vermouth and Cointreau in a glass/shaker. Add ice and stir thoroughly. Strain into a chilled martini glass. Garnish with the twist of orange and serve.

But the fun doesn’t stop there. You can infuse lavender into almost everything to get a bit of fragrant fanciness into your cooking.

Try making lavender extract for sweeties like lavender cupcakes. (lots of info and recipes here)
Lavender sugar is a handy little something special to have about. (Put 2-4 tablespoons of dried lavender buds into each cup of sugar, allow the plant oils to meld for 2 weeks before you use it sprinkled on toast or pancakes.)
Lavender infused honey just means a few springs in a generic honey to add a purple pizzazz to the taste.

Recipes that love to lap up lavender:

Panna cotta, crème brulee and ice cream. Milkiness and laverderiness go together like a varicose vein running up a lily white thigh. Shocking, but inevitable. Do it, it’s good.

Lavender chocolates

As a herb it can be a substituted for rosemary and goes nicely with mustard (try it with au gratin potatoes)

It is a major ingredient in Herbes de Provence my flirty Francophiles. Make like a slutty provincial milkmaid and rub that lavender on a breast today!

And, oh baby, this is a mighty effort from Our Lady Martha Stewart (Thanksgiving Living magazine for 2007)

LAVENDER LEMONADE

Serves 12

INGREDIENTS

3 cups of granulated sugar
3 cups of water
1/4 cup of dried lavender
4 cups of fresh lemon juice (16-20 lemons)
Ice for serving
Lemon slice for garnish

DIRECTIONS

Bring sugar and water to a boil in a saucepan stirring until sugar has dissolved. Stir in Lavender. Remove from heat, and let stand for 10 minutes. Strain, discarding Lavender. Let cool. Stir in lemon juice. (Lemonade can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 1 week.) Serve over ice, and garnish with lemon slices and fresh lavender sprigs.

Happy Mothers Day from Dinky DIY

2009-05-09T04:03:00.000-07:00

Mothers mothers mothers!
One of life's precious bothers.
But take them apart,
And you'll find they're all heart,
Yes, we lovers the mothers the mothers.

No smothers from some mothers, no smothers.
Then, can't get them off! Some others.
Calls three times a day
"Just saying, g'day..."
What duffers, those mothers, dear mothers.

Some folk have MILF mothers for mothers.
I daresay those folk mainly suffers.
Oh what a stir,
All eyes on her!
Imagining her under their covers.

Some folk have it rougher than others.
Hundreds of sisters and brothers!
But each gets his share,
Mother takes care.
Great huggers, are mothers, great huggers.

But, I tell you if I have my druthers,
Well I wouldn't want anothers'.
She's handful enough,
Though she does make me laugh.
I quite like her, ol' mother, me mothers.

DIY Stick It To The Man

2009-05-07T12:00:00.000-07:00

OR Rise Ye, Children of the Revolution

Feeling a little antsy, like you want to up the ante.

Me too.

Here’s Dinky DIYs Guide to Sticking to The Man.

Brush up on your constitutional law and secede. In 1969, after a running dispute with the Western Australian government about wheat quotas, Leonard Casey stuck his proverbial middle finger up at the bureaucratic bullies and seceded from Australia. He created the Principality of Hutt River and crowned himself Prince and his wife, Her Serene Highness Princess Shirley. Just 500 odd kms from the city of Perth, with its Hutt River Dollar and motto Dum Spiro Spero ("while I breathe, I hope") it is an oddity of Australiana and the country’s only micro-nation.

Tune in, turn on, drop out. So you think you have what it takes to be a counter-cultural revolutionary, man. Groovy. .. but you’re too late. This war was started before you were out of your pampers, friend. So, step away from the cheesecloth, put down the acid tab and get with the program. I’m talking cyberdelics ("turn on, boot up, jack in") and the Hacker Ethic. Don’t shirk and squirm, you media manipulated mortal, hackers are not only evil guys who work for the Chinese government, they are bohemians fighting the good fight. This is about freedom of speech, information and lifestyle. In which the real revenge of the nerds begins....

Incite Terrorism. Only kidding, I’m just a wannabe radical trying to catch the attention of the censorship bugs. Terrorism is evil, kids. It makes Americans wee themselves with fear and start irrationally bombing countries nobody has ever heard of before.Besides, everyone else is doing it, resist the mainstream.

Author a pamphlet. What a dull suggestion, you say? Carefacter: 0 If you fricken knew anything, you would know this is how all the important anarchists and envelope pushers got it done.

Martin Luther, Jonathon Swift, Karl Marx, Lewis Carroll, Adolf Hitler, Leo Tolstoy... you would be among controversial friends.

They all got articulate and printed up nifty little pamphlets pushing brilliant new thoughts, crazy musings or theories that rocked the sleepy establishment.

Build some Killa Skillz: And you thought you were managing survival just fine, right? Well, do you know how to score a sneaky second passport? How to keep your money safe from an asset freezing crisis or how to make cheese or how to get out of a car boot if you find yourself at the mercy of kidnappers? Hell, do you even know how to make a snare? The rumblings of this revolution are all over the WWW, people are arming up, stocking up and building some serious skills in preparedness for whatever cataclysmic disaster may face our fragile planet in the future. Time to tap into the inner James Bond cum McGuiver and go Mad Max on this world.

Find a man and stick something to him. Be it by sticky tape, super glue or stapling, if you have no causes to bear, no forces to fight but by golly you want to make a statement, then find thee a man and stick it to him. It might make you feel better. Of course I take no responsibility for the consequences.

Dunny-side Reading & The Trouble With Magazines OR How To Instantly Feel Better About Your Life & Save Money In One Small Step

2009-05-04T02:17:00.000-07:00

My father is, like many men I know, an avid toilet session reader. Now, if any of you are toilet readers you may have already learnt the secret trick to this. A big book, with large text and preferably humorous content will keep you entertained over weeks of loo sittings.

I was at some friends of ours a few weeks ago and found they had a Suicide Bunny book. It was full of cartoons and very pleasant to flick through whilst distracting oneself from the task at hand.

My dad had the very dense biography of Mao Tse Tung next to his toilet for years, but recently something alarming happened. He finished the book.

To the delight of my step mother, this temporarily shortened his otherwise somewhat extended visits to the dunny.

He was desperate; he needed something to keep him entertained. Until he started collecting her Madison magazines, material he wasn’t particularly interested in but fulfilled the simple reading requirement and had lots of pretty pictures (the Russian also used to nick my glossies for the same purposes until I saw the light and ceased buying them forever... but we’ll get to that.)

So, the other day he was able to recount to me his horror when he read the true life tale of a yoyo dieter who was obese when her husband was diagnosed with cancer and then, much to her delight, began to lose the weight without even trying as he slowly succumbed to the disease.
He was outraged at the underlying moral of the article, Hubby Dies I Get Skinny (peculiar and disturbing.)

It just reminded how evil women’s magazines are. I had forgotten, since I made a conscious decision over three years ago never to buy them. And I was something of a fan, I liked the trashy tabloids that you grab at the checkout, the advertising-dense fashion bibles and the girly reads. I bought them as treats, but found they left me wanting.

In every aspect of the word. By the time I had read through the mag I was of the opinion that I wasn't pretty enough or skinny enough or successful enough, no matter how high my self esteem was before I started reading. I would be making mental lists of things... stuff... that I needed as I read.

"Oh, I need to get that dress/top/jeans/shoes/car/watch/man/career/lifestyle."

I now recoil at the sight of a Shop Til You Drop, Cosmo, Cleo etc because I feel the evil, targeted insecurity-breeding bad writing leaping out of the shiny glossy pages at me.

The bitchy women-trashing, celebrity-spying that feeds into their reader’s insecurity (which they certainly are partly to blame for) disgusts me.

The eye-scratching betrayal of the sisterhood by sending befuddling mixed message in articles that offer empowering, self-esteem booting information placed next to a double page spread of airbrushed teenage nymphs with lesbian undertones.

The moronically recycled sex tips have been in circulation so long my “tweenie” cousins could recite the list of Must Do’s when giving a blow-job (oh yes, they catch them young with the insidious Dolly and Girlfriend) without even really knowing what they are talking about.

It’s gross.

These mags are brimming with pictures that have been digitally altered in sophisticated programs. Altered beyond belief even when the subjects have mostly gone under the scalpel themselves to render their own bodies so unreal that we now have a warped idea of what is natural and beautiful.

It sucks. I hate them. Opt out.

On Bliss... OR DIY Get Happy

2009-04-28T01:07:00.000-07:00

Biz Stone of Twitter demonstrated remarkable wisdom in choosing this image designed by Australian-based Yiying Lu to be the visual that pops up when the system has a brain fart and overloads (read my interview with Miss. Lu here .)

Just check that blissed out whale!

With his furiously flapping feathered friends keeping him aloft, the Fail Whale is taking out a second to let go. Meanwhile Twittaholics are slamming fists into cubicle desks and throwing Blackberries across the room in frustration, Fail Whale is taking a sec to smell the seafoam.

This is what enlightened folk call "moments of grace" (I made it pink for you so it would have an extra pretty ring to it...maybe italics would work as well...?) Moments of grace people! That's the secret, I'm told, to all of this world and everything in it (no, not The Secret, sheesh do I look like an Amway fruitloop to you?)

These moments are mini celebrations of your own awesomeness and the awesomeness of others and life. Instead of waiting for the big revelation, it turns out, the happiest people in the world get off on the little things.

How To Get Happy!

Shake Up Your View: 2,000 years ago, the Greek philosopher Epictetus said, "We are disturbed not by events, but by the views that we take of them" so seize your brain (not like, seizure. like take control of the steering wheel) and start spin doctoring to yourself. Look on the bright side, just as an exercise, you might find you like it.

Deep End Plunging: Depression is characterised by slow thinking, seriously, scientists figured this out. So you have to start speeding up the synapses and the best way to get your noggin crackling is to jump out of your comfort zone. Take up a DIY project or do a sudoku puzzle (jeez I hate those things) or whatever gets your mind racing, you know you're doing it right when you are "absorbed" by the activity.

Connect: You already knew this one, but just a cheery reminder to let you know your friends are friends with you cos they like you, so it is these people you need to be good to and turn to for some comic relief. Fine and well to have a whinge to them when things are crap, but trust me, everyone benefits if you try to say your piece and move on to a thoroughly hilarious gas bag about someone else's miseries.

Magic Moments: I'm not telling you to get up at 5:30 am and greet the sun everyday like my grandma's neighbour used to do every morning, on her balcony with strange music blaring through my bedroom window... naked. But if that works for you, great. I'm just saying, stuff is pretty awesome if you take out a moment to appreciate it. Life is busy, I understand but a moment to be appreciative of something or someone is not too much to ask (and it sets the happy bugs off in your head... you know, the little ones that pump endorphins into your system... yes, we like the bugs.)

So take a tip from our fishy mate here and start noticing the good in your world. Get blissful. Cheer up. Have a giggle. Otherwise just kill yourself. Nobody minds propping you up once in a while but our wings are getting tired, your moment has passed.

DIY Jai Guru Deva

2009-04-26T11:39:00.000-07:00

OR Learn To Pray (Like A Virgin.... ...joking, I’m having a pop song quoting flash. Ignore)

If you have forgotten how friggen nuts people are when it comes to religion and need to be reminded, you gotta watch the documentary “Jesus Camp”.

Watching the outright brainwashing of children into sobbing uncontrollably as they plead “No more, Jesus, no more” into the camera clinging to plastic figurines of supposed embryos (which looked suspiciously like small cupie dolls) is enough to make a normal person want to hijack a plane and drive it straight into their moronic heads.

But that’s not to say I don’t dig a bit of otherworldliness. Jesus is totally alright with me, even though he’s just an allegorical figure based on the ancient god Horace (have you seen Zeitgeist yet?)

The fundamentalist super right is causing all sorts of stirs everywhere these days, from teaching kids in the apparent leader of the free world intelligent design, to teaching them how to blow themselves up in the Middle East.

Since this site is all about doing it for yourself, I’m a complete advocate of hodge-podge spirituality. DIY Religion if you like, where you pick and mix all the best bits of other people’s religions and jumble them together, dance to your own divine tune and blaspheme your way to a better you.

Dinky DIY’s Guide to A More Spiritual You

There is a reason the evangelical churches are called charismatics. It’s because they are. They add a bit of pep into the dry, old-school style realm of religion. Next time someone gives you good news totally do a happy dance, be oddly and overbearingly enthusiastic about it, THANK profusely and exclaim that it’s AWESOME to be alive. A bit of hardcore gratitude can’t hurt.

Got a few sins to offload? Grab a chicken! The ritual of kaparot says all you have to do is read some of the psalms and swing a chook around your head three times and now you’re not the baddie as far as the Big Guy is concerned, he’s going to blame it all on the bird. Sweet deal.

“Celebrate the rather obvious idea that "god" is nothing more than a raw hot energy that permeates all things at all times in all places and it is meant to be shared like a long slow tongue-kiss across all genders and locations and hairstyles.” (Mark Morford) Can we so do this?! I know what you’re thinking – arsonist orgies! Safety first, kids.

Speak in tongues. I just love watching the Jesus Weepers pull this stunt, aside from being side-splittingly hilarious (have you ever seen one run out of made up words and then just go back to the beginning of Oooloogggulackamagucka again? They repeat their own nonsense... muahahahaha.... laughing alone, am I? Carefactor: 0) it really can’t be argued with. I mean, it’s the most infuriating way to trump an argument;

“Jesus loves me and I am imbued with the power of the Holy Spirit.”
“But he doesn’t exist.”
“Oh doesn’t he ? Oooloogggulackamagucka”
“Stop talking like that. I know it’s just you pretending.”
“Oooloogggulackamagucka, oh Holy Spirit, save this non-believer, gooeeebigillipliplipooosh.”

You can’t reply, because you don’t speak that language and you don’t speak that language because it’s just being made up on the spot. Next time you run out of good comebacks, just bust out a Holy Spirit ninja kick in your foe’s face, “Why didn’t you bring in the washing, like you said you would?” “Oooloogggulackamagucka!” It’ll work every time.

Bad face day? Get a niqub, one of those dinky veils that only let your eyes peep through. But for those times when you’re feeling extra frumpy, best to have a burqa on hand. They come in one shade of hail mary blue and covers you up so well, if you just sit still people might just assume you’re part of the furniture and ignore you altogether.

Plenty of other wacky things you can find out in the world that you could add to this list, so get soul-searching and see what you can come up with.

But don’t forget "religion constructed on a 'do-it-yourself' basis cannot ultimately help us," customised religion, says the Pope, is very naughty but then again, the megachurches have been wrong before (Salem anyone?)

This just cracked me up.

DIY Become A Struggling Artist

2009-04-24T07:20:00.000-07:00

OR A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to the Bank

Last year I lived for 6 months with one of my younger brothers and (it seemed) the whole touch footy team, all the locals from his watering hole and a gang of miscellaneous other mates.

Being in a house full of farting, burping, drinking grubs was nothing new to me (growing up with three brothers) but it did pose something of a problem for bonding. Until I stumbled upon a novel idea on the way to the bank.

At the $2 shop next to the ATM one morning, I saw cheap, primed artist canvases and acrylic paints and was struck with an unusual query. Could these house guests be persuaded to paint while drinking, bbq-ing and horsing about?

Could they be encouraged to create something of a bohemian gathering of artists, rather than just a bunch of yobbos?

So I gathered up a bunch of big ones, some paints and brushes and trotted back home to conduct an experiment in masculine creativity.

They all insisted they couldn’t draw, so I reminded them of Pollack. They complained they didn’t know how to paint what was in their head, so I suggested they go abstract. They said they weren’t neat, I told them to invoke Monet and the impressionists as I forcefully stuck brushes in their hands and a canvas before them on the table.

This is how we started having painting parties.

Pack creatures that they are, it was amazing how they all got stuck in. A few beers to release the muse and we had people dropping into our backyard barbies, to grab a sausage and put their mark on the communal canvas.

Some would doodle around the edges and others were more grandeur in their approach. The ones who resisted the most, in the end, became the most passionate artists.

I sold the most collaborative effort at a garage sale before I left Sydney. The woman who bought it loved the story of backyard artists working together and it hangs, framed, in her Eastern Suburbs lounge room today.

She got a very good price.

I’m a poor art dealer, I drive a crappy bargain.

Beauty, as they say, is in the eye of the beer holder.

Since leaving that funny little Bondi Junction terrace, I have carried on painting (something I never tried before the experiment) to mixed results. Now, unfortunately, it is a solo event so I can’t share the shame when people “don’t get it.” Carefactor: 0

This is a finished one that lives in my kitchen.

When some of my family visited Europe earlier this year (for the skiing, the fact that I was here seemed incidental) I proudly hung it up like a kindergartener sticks his fingerpainting on the fridge and my family politely ignored it. I think it reminded my mother of thearapy painting from the days when she used to run occupational thearapy in crazy houses.

The only compliment I received was from a Kazakh who the Russian invited over for the weekend but then got bored of after a day, leaving us to entertain him in awkward turns. His wife is an artist and he said he liked it, “Very Australian” was his remark... maybe that doesn’t mean he liked it at all?

This is my latest work in progress.

So maybe my art does suck, but by golly it’s fun.

DIY Have A Painting Party

- Buy cheap acrylics (they come in great colours)

- Get some brushes (fatter, longer ones work in group painting I find. The really el cheapo ones do leave bristles sticking in the paint, which then dry onto the canvas and look off.)

- Get some big inexpensive canvasses ($2 shops are stocking these lately, most sizes under $20)

- I bought a few metres of plastic to put under the painting, try a vinyl table cloth or an old sheet

- Get going with a bunch of mates and a few drinks

- Photograph the fun (my greatest regret is that I didn’t take pictures of the painting parties!)