Man Hands came home from working down pit. New Girl and I were drinking (guzzling) champers and watching a show on women who breastfeed their children for, essentially, as long as the child wants it. Man Hands took a seat in front of the telly, unawares, and it wasn't long before his mouth was agape. And, yes, I think he was expressing* affrontedness, not a sudden thirst.
It finally got too much and he insisted the channel be changed. We landed on a cooking show. You wouldn't credit it.
"Look at that, darling," said New Girl. "A rack of lamb."
*Sorry.
Showing posts with label English Crime. Show all posts
Showing posts with label English Crime. Show all posts
24 April 2010
15 January 2010
I would have gone with Willem Dafoe.
New Girl and I went to the cinemah last night to see Up in the Air. It was a good movie, but that's not my point. Here's what this is all about:
They - yes them - have remade Edge of Darkness, the most memorable and scarring mini-series of my young adult life. That they've done a re-make is outrage enough, but that it stars Mel Gibson is just plain old insulting.
There's one scene in the previews where Mel has a man, presumably one of his mortal enemies, cornered and is giving him one of his patented crazy Lethal Weapon looks. I really don't know that Mad Mel is the most appropriate actor to deliver the line he says in this scene:
"You got a choice to make. Are you strung up on the cross, or are you bangin' in the nails?"
They - yes them - have remade Edge of Darkness, the most memorable and scarring mini-series of my young adult life. That they've done a re-make is outrage enough, but that it stars Mel Gibson is just plain old insulting.
There's one scene in the previews where Mel has a man, presumably one of his mortal enemies, cornered and is giving him one of his patented crazy Lethal Weapon looks. I really don't know that Mad Mel is the most appropriate actor to deliver the line he says in this scene:
"You got a choice to make. Are you strung up on the cross, or are you bangin' in the nails?"
19 July 2009
Kulchad
I was relaying to DJ Pups various bits of advice I'd had from New Girl re being a single girl out on the town.
Top of her pops? Wear make-up: men are stupid* and need all the help they can get in realising you are single and available.
"Gosh," said DJ Pups after she'd digested various bits and pieces. "It's like having your own Emma right on hand. You know, that film with Gwyneth Paltrow? Or, even, the book - by Jane Austen."
*Except you. Of course.
Top of her pops? Wear make-up: men are stupid* and need all the help they can get in realising you are single and available.
"Gosh," said DJ Pups after she'd digested various bits and pieces. "It's like having your own Emma right on hand. You know, that film with Gwyneth Paltrow? Or, even, the book - by Jane Austen."
*Except you. Of course.
17 April 2009
Pants on Fiar
New Girl wants me to get her a job where I work. I'm not sure my vast and rampant power extends that far, but I've told her I'll see what I can do.
-------------------------
From: New Girl@
Sent: Wednesday, 15 April 2009 3:53PM
To: hazelblackberry@
Subject: update
You know I have a fantasy about being headhunted. Get a big butterfly net and come here to get me. I'll come quietly.
-------------------------
She's such a liar. She'd scream her bloody head off. But oh so prettily.
-------------------------
From: New Girl@
Sent: Wednesday, 15 April 2009 3:53PM
To: hazelblackberry@
Subject: update
You know I have a fantasy about being headhunted. Get a big butterfly net and come here to get me. I'll come quietly.
-------------------------
She's such a liar. She'd scream her bloody head off. But oh so prettily.
01 April 2009
Campaign Manager
So there's a little group of four people who sit together here at work and on one of the cabinets between their desks they keep a bowl filled with Smarties. Since I'm a major user and abuser of the bowl*, I tend to pick up a big bag of Smarties at Woolies each week and bring it in to help replenish supplies. I should just cut out the middle man, like Paul the Outdoor Outlaw used to, and keep the bag on my desk.
Anyway. The point is, I trot out there, grab a handful of Smarties, everyone mocks me for my greedy ways and it helps to keep the atmosphere light. Breezy, if you see what I mean. People coming together over a common enemy and all that.
Today after my three Weet-Bix and So Good had failed to satisfy I mooched over for some chocolate goodness. A girl, originally from England, was hanging around the desks and when she saw my modest fistful of sweetness**, she said, "Smarties! Have you ever noticed how when you suck all the colour off they're all white on the inside?"
What I wanted to say to her was that that was exactly the kind of sentiment on which colonial powers like her homeland had risen and fallen. But, you know, I didn't. More of the light and breezy and less of the common enemy is what I need round here.
*Another great euphemism that wasn't.
**And another!
***I wonder if I could get a job as a creator of euphemisms. I reckon I'd be good at it.
Anyway. The point is, I trot out there, grab a handful of Smarties, everyone mocks me for my greedy ways and it helps to keep the atmosphere light. Breezy, if you see what I mean. People coming together over a common enemy and all that.
Today after my three Weet-Bix and So Good had failed to satisfy I mooched over for some chocolate goodness. A girl, originally from England, was hanging around the desks and when she saw my modest fistful of sweetness**, she said, "Smarties! Have you ever noticed how when you suck all the colour off they're all white on the inside?"
What I wanted to say to her was that that was exactly the kind of sentiment on which colonial powers like her homeland had risen and fallen. But, you know, I didn't. More of the light and breezy and less of the common enemy is what I need round here.
*Another great euphemism that wasn't.
**And another!
***I wonder if I could get a job as a creator of euphemisms. I reckon I'd be good at it.
27 March 2009
In the boudoir the gourmand metamorphises to the voluptuary.
From: New Girl@
Sent: Friday, 27 March 2009 4:01 PM
To: hazelblackberry@
Subject: And another thing!
"Drinking steaming hot tea has been linked with an increased risk of oesophageal (food tube) cancer, Iranian scientists have found. "
"Food tube"!! WTF!!
What next? Are we going to see "colon" represented as "poo tube"?*
This is the BBC we are talking about here!
*Probably. And your brain stem will be known as the YouTube.
Sent: Friday, 27 March 2009 4:01 PM
To: hazelblackberry@
Subject: And another thing!
"Drinking steaming hot tea has been linked with an increased risk of oesophageal (food tube) cancer, Iranian scientists have found. "
"Food tube"!! WTF!!
What next? Are we going to see "colon" represented as "poo tube"?*
This is the BBC we are talking about here!
----------------------------
*Probably. And your brain stem will be known as the YouTube.
15 February 2009
Siiiigh
I dreamed about you continually last night, in all kinds of places and confusions. We shall meet next week. A week since we met! I wish this was that or was next week, Sylvia. I wish this year were over and our wedding in America were over and I were just laying you down on the bed. All all all all all love Your Ted.
- Ted Hughes to Sylvia Plath, 18 October 1956
[I know lots of people think he was pure evil, but I think he's marvellous.]
26 January 2009
They huffed and they puffed.
I collected a heap of glass at the beach last weekend - it's getting to be an addiction - but hadn't bothered to move it from the passenger side floor mat.
"Goodness me!" said New Girl as she tried to manoeuvre her feet around the bits and pieces. "Did someone try to break into the pixie mobile?!"
"Goodness me!" said New Girl as she tried to manoeuvre her feet around the bits and pieces. "Did someone try to break into the pixie mobile?!"
05 September 2008
Sins of Omission
That's right. I said I was "recommitting" myself to the blog, didn't I?
Well it's been a busy week! I've been out. This is not a common thing for me, going out at night. And every night at that.
Woohoo!
Here's a quick rundown:
(1) On Monday night I went to my friend Chestnut's place for dinner. I'd been there for a couple of hours and we were chatting about this and that when suddenly she said, "Oh, hey! Here's something I forgot to tell you - I've got a brain tumour!" It's a benign tumour, I hasten to tell you as she hastened to tell me, but it still has to be monitored and old Chestnut isn't entirely at ease with the whole deal, understandably. But here's the thing: telling hazelblackberry about your brain tumour is a surefire way to shut her up about all her own petty little woes.
Perspective is what I'm talking about here.
(2) On Tuesday night I went to see Tropic Thunder with The Antiquer. New Girl will choke on her Weeties* when she reads this. Don't worry, NG old thing, I'm still seeing it with you. Afterwards The Antiquer insisted on walking me to my car - then I had to drive him round to his car. Then he made me sit there for 40 minutes in an abandoned carpark while he whinged to me about Tam O'Shanter's South African friends. I have suspected for some time, and have told him as much, that he's just jealous she even has friends.
(3) On Wednesday night I went out to dinner with a mate from uni. We have a standing arrangement on a Wednesday evening to get together and chat. We were in Vic Park and The Antiquer rang - he appears a lot more in my life than he does in this blog; I limit his appearances because I sometimes think it wouldn't look proper. Also, I can't have him hogging the limelight. I'm still looking for a good opportunity to reintroduce The Burp.
He was just round the corner in Burswood at running training so he dropped by to finish off our meals for us. Then, because he was feeling a little parched, he ordered four cool drinks: a lemonade and three lemon squashes. The waiter didn't mind bringing him another plate, knife and fork so he could eat our food, but the drinks order caused utter confusion.
(4) I can't tell you about Thursday night yet. I have to send a couple of emails first.
Tonight I'm staying home. Wire in the Blood is on!
*Or other breakfast, cereal or otherwise, of her choice.
Well it's been a busy week! I've been out. This is not a common thing for me, going out at night. And every night at that.
Woohoo!
Here's a quick rundown:
(1) On Monday night I went to my friend Chestnut's place for dinner. I'd been there for a couple of hours and we were chatting about this and that when suddenly she said, "Oh, hey! Here's something I forgot to tell you - I've got a brain tumour!" It's a benign tumour, I hasten to tell you as she hastened to tell me, but it still has to be monitored and old Chestnut isn't entirely at ease with the whole deal, understandably. But here's the thing: telling hazelblackberry about your brain tumour is a surefire way to shut her up about all her own petty little woes.
Perspective is what I'm talking about here.
(2) On Tuesday night I went to see Tropic Thunder with The Antiquer. New Girl will choke on her Weeties* when she reads this. Don't worry, NG old thing, I'm still seeing it with you. Afterwards The Antiquer insisted on walking me to my car - then I had to drive him round to his car. Then he made me sit there for 40 minutes in an abandoned carpark while he whinged to me about Tam O'Shanter's South African friends. I have suspected for some time, and have told him as much, that he's just jealous she even has friends.
(3) On Wednesday night I went out to dinner with a mate from uni. We have a standing arrangement on a Wednesday evening to get together and chat. We were in Vic Park and The Antiquer rang - he appears a lot more in my life than he does in this blog; I limit his appearances because I sometimes think it wouldn't look proper. Also, I can't have him hogging the limelight. I'm still looking for a good opportunity to reintroduce The Burp.
He was just round the corner in Burswood at running training so he dropped by to finish off our meals for us. Then, because he was feeling a little parched, he ordered four cool drinks: a lemonade and three lemon squashes. The waiter didn't mind bringing him another plate, knife and fork so he could eat our food, but the drinks order caused utter confusion.
(4) I can't tell you about Thursday night yet. I have to send a couple of emails first.
Tonight I'm staying home. Wire in the Blood is on!
*Or other breakfast, cereal or otherwise, of her choice.
19 July 2008
A Nice Cup of Tea and a Hatchet
Wow! Waking up in the morning and knowing you've got your broadband back is like being a kid and it's your birthday!!
Or something.
Grumpy went out with a mate last night and got, as The Cramps would say, "messed up". I'm waiting for him to awaken from his beauty sleep so we can head off to Cottesloe or Leederville - you know, anywhere but where we live for goodness' sake - for a coffee.
When we go to Cottesloe I sometimes pop into the Collins Booksellers for a browse while Grumpy waits (im)patiently. I'll just whisper to you that he's not a reader. Shhh.
I like the Collins shop because they have an interesting little selection of books and someone in there has taken the time to break down some of the sections into further delightful categories, indicated by blue laminated labels on the shelves:
- Harold Bloom's Canon
- Soft-Boiled Shopping Noir
- Murder with a Lovely Historical Background
- Jaded Forensic Pathologists
...and my favourite, which I knew would please Grumpy no end:
- Genteel English Murders
Or something.
Grumpy went out with a mate last night and got, as The Cramps would say, "messed up". I'm waiting for him to awaken from his beauty sleep so we can head off to Cottesloe or Leederville - you know, anywhere but where we live for goodness' sake - for a coffee.
When we go to Cottesloe I sometimes pop into the Collins Booksellers for a browse while Grumpy waits (im)patiently. I'll just whisper to you that he's not a reader. Shhh.
I like the Collins shop because they have an interesting little selection of books and someone in there has taken the time to break down some of the sections into further delightful categories, indicated by blue laminated labels on the shelves:
- Harold Bloom's Canon
- Soft-Boiled Shopping Noir
- Murder with a Lovely Historical Background
- Jaded Forensic Pathologists
...and my favourite, which I knew would please Grumpy no end:
- Genteel English Murders
17 February 2008
He also thinks it should be the National Australia Bank Cup
Grumpy is doing a slow boil in front of the NAB Cup Western Derby listening to Glen Jakovich's commentary:
"Des Headland has been accredited with that goal.....which is what the Dockers recruited him for somewhat years ago."
According to Grumpy, "That idiot is a disgrace to South Coogee Primary School."
Anyway, I need to break the news to him that Miss Marple begins in 15 minutes. That should do his blood pressure the world of good.
"Des Headland has been accredited with that goal.....which is what the Dockers recruited him for somewhat years ago."
According to Grumpy, "That idiot is a disgrace to South Coogee Primary School."
Anyway, I need to break the news to him that Miss Marple begins in 15 minutes. That should do his blood pressure the world of good.
06 November 2007
Head Case
While she'd like me to believe that her English childhood was spent in the shadows of the coal pit, New Girl couldn't help but tell me the other day that the house she grew up in was covered in a honeysuckle vine that wound itself round her bedroom window.
Did its green leaves create a gently swaying, dappled shadow effect in her room? Why yes.
And did the delicate scent of the vine refresh her senses as she read the latest wizard adventures in Bunty magazine? But of course.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: she's messin' with my mind.
Did its green leaves create a gently swaying, dappled shadow effect in her room? Why yes.
And did the delicate scent of the vine refresh her senses as she read the latest wizard adventures in Bunty magazine? But of course.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: she's messin' with my mind.
17 July 2007
Snow White Tan
New Girl has been to known to rib me on occasion for my naive and cliched view of her English background. Fair cop.
But if you could only see her! She looks so English! She has big blue eyes and a lovely peaches and cream complexion. Mind you, maybe that's not such a recommendation after all. I recall my work mate Dropsy describing a p0rn star he particularly admired as having a peaches and cream complexion. Then again, she was an English p0rn star.
Look, never mind. The point is, we were talking the other day about jewellery and how easy it is to lose. I relayed the woeful tale of losing a delicate little bracelet my in-laws had given me: I'd snared it on some rubbish I was piling into a bin and didn't feel it as it broke and fell into the bin itself. (I felt bad about that, and Grumpy made me feel worse.)
New Girl also lost a bracelet. It had a dodgy clasp and it slipped from her wrist as she walked through a field on her way home from school. Not as she crossed an oval, or as she was walking along someone's grassy verge. But as she walked through a field, satchel bumping her knees and dragging her hockey stick behind her.
Sometimes I think she's just messing with my mind.
But if you could only see her! She looks so English! She has big blue eyes and a lovely peaches and cream complexion. Mind you, maybe that's not such a recommendation after all. I recall my work mate Dropsy describing a p0rn star he particularly admired as having a peaches and cream complexion. Then again, she was an English p0rn star.
Look, never mind. The point is, we were talking the other day about jewellery and how easy it is to lose. I relayed the woeful tale of losing a delicate little bracelet my in-laws had given me: I'd snared it on some rubbish I was piling into a bin and didn't feel it as it broke and fell into the bin itself. (I felt bad about that, and Grumpy made me feel worse.)
New Girl also lost a bracelet. It had a dodgy clasp and it slipped from her wrist as she walked through a field on her way home from school. Not as she crossed an oval, or as she was walking along someone's grassy verge. But as she walked through a field, satchel bumping her knees and dragging her hockey stick behind her.
Sometimes I think she's just messing with my mind.
24 June 2007
I wish she'd just told me it was true.
New Girl grew up in England. She lived in a house that had an attic that was crammed with books and furnished with saggy old furniture. There was a trunk - a trunk, mind you - filled with toys, and a cupboard containing her mother's old clothes which she and her sister would use to play dress ups (when they weren't reading delightful books pulled from the shelves).
As you can imagine, I have a bit of a rose-coloured view of New Girl's childhood world.
We were talking and she mentioned that she hadn't eaten a raspberry until she came out to Australia. I was quite surprised.
"Really?" I asked (expressing aforementioned surprise). "I thought you'd be out on a summer afternoon, picking raspberries from the roadside brambles."
She fixed me with a look. "No, there weren't that many brambles growing by the side of the road in our quaint village of 56,000 people."
I saw her point.
As you can imagine, I have a bit of a rose-coloured view of New Girl's childhood world.
We were talking and she mentioned that she hadn't eaten a raspberry until she came out to Australia. I was quite surprised.
"Really?" I asked (expressing aforementioned surprise). "I thought you'd be out on a summer afternoon, picking raspberries from the roadside brambles."
She fixed me with a look. "No, there weren't that many brambles growing by the side of the road in our quaint village of 56,000 people."
I saw her point.
29 May 2007
Carry On!
New Girl and I ventured forth to Borders with a stop at Gloria Jean's. I bought books, New Girl bought maps - we pondered the map of Afghanistan as we sipped our drinks. We have agreed that sometime in the next ten years we're going to go to Afghanistan together. I want to travel the Khyber Pass.
But bags not playing the part of Lady Joan Ruff-Diamond if we run into Randy Lal.
But bags not playing the part of Lady Joan Ruff-Diamond if we run into Randy Lal.
02 April 2007
Conversation
Burpmother: You know those sunglasses you gave me?
Burp: Yes. You sound odd - have you lost them?
Burpmother: Oh no, nothing like that. I just can't find them.
Burp: Yes. You sound odd - have you lost them?
Burpmother: Oh no, nothing like that. I just can't find them.
22 January 2007
I'm Fabulously Wealthy
I asked him, "Before you go, will you do something for me? Will you?"
"Sure, what?"
"Approve my leave."
Done, and done.
"Sure, what?"
"Approve my leave."
Done, and done.
17 January 2007
Years, Not Steps
Today is Grumpy's birthday. Next weekend we're getting Foxtel installed. That's his present, the Foxtel sports package.
The bonus present was when he found out our package doesn't come with what he calls the Pommy murder-mystery channel.
The bonus present was when he found out our package doesn't come with what he calls the Pommy murder-mystery channel.
16 January 2007
Bred With Familiarity
I had a boss once, an Englishman, who was very polite and gentlemanly. In fact, he was kind of crippled with politeness. Nevertheless, as time went by and we got to know each other he would tentatively venture forth into the world of teasing - in a low-key, inoffensive way, of course.
One day he told me he had received a copy of Tim Winton's Cloudstreet and was going to start reading it that weekend. I was enthusiastic in forecasting what an immense treat this would be for him.
"How's Cloudstreet going?" I asked him on Monday.
"I think it's very well-written. It's probably not my style, for the same reason I think that you like it so much."
"What's that?"
"The humour. It's very.........................scatological."
One day he told me he had received a copy of Tim Winton's Cloudstreet and was going to start reading it that weekend. I was enthusiastic in forecasting what an immense treat this would be for him.
"How's Cloudstreet going?" I asked him on Monday.
"I think it's very well-written. It's probably not my style, for the same reason I think that you like it so much."
"What's that?"
"The humour. It's very.........................scatological."
24 July 2006
Headphones Will Cure All
I spent Friday morning over at Scarab's making these necklaces (shameless plug for other blog) and watching Hercule Poirot. Scarab is a huge fan of the little Belgian detective and it's utter bliss to be able to watch a whole show unmolested by noise from the peanut gallery.
I swear Grumpy has a sixth sense for these things. He can time his squeaky swivel on the office chair or restless rustle on the lounge with Swiss precision.
"End so I, Ercule Poiro, now reveal to you all dat ze killerrr was SQUEAKSQUEAKRUSTLERUSTLE. Yes, you! And ow did Ercule know? Bien! E employ ze leedle grey cells, non? End you made one misstake, which to Ercule reveals all! What was it? Alors! Let me explain. SQUEAKSQUEAKSQUEAKRUSTLERUSTLERUSTLE. Chief Inspecterrr, take im/er away."
Roll end credits.
I swear Grumpy has a sixth sense for these things. He can time his squeaky swivel on the office chair or restless rustle on the lounge with Swiss precision.
"End so I, Ercule Poiro, now reveal to you all dat ze killerrr was SQUEAKSQUEAKRUSTLERUSTLE. Yes, you! And ow did Ercule know? Bien! E employ ze leedle grey cells, non? End you made one misstake, which to Ercule reveals all! What was it? Alors! Let me explain. SQUEAKSQUEAKSQUEAKRUSTLERUSTLERUSTLE. Chief Inspecterrr, take im/er away."
Roll end credits.
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