Get up, a get, get, down...

Last night I had my first skunk encounter. I stumbled across it in some ones front yard, mere blocks from my house. It was very exciting until it started to puff itself up and I had to run away.

Amidst all the bread and cold, I also found time yesterday to go to the Vancouver Police Museum. The place was deserted allowing me to run slightly amuck although I did get yelled at for trying to open the "morgue" body draws. I can not help being naturally curious and their warning signs were posted above my head. Who looks up these days? That's so 1998.

I clearly have forgotten how to express myself through proper sentences so today you shall be treated to a photo blog of sorts.

Firstly, This is creepy:

Secondly,

Things I have Learned About the Vancouver Police Force.

The Vancouver Police have Robots. Robots for Justice!

Canadian Police Officers have blue sclera, poorly illustrated by this photo. Trust me, the whites of his eyes are a lovely baby blue.

Vancouver Police Officers are bandits for the human pyramid.

Sometimes they like getting stoned

So do their Ponies.

At such times, the ponies get the munchies for small children.

Sometimes, dogs find them tiresome...

...except for this one,

who was trying really hard to be selected for the Dog Squad.

Poor puppy didn't quite make the team.

Owls are the scourge of the criminal underworld.

Next,

 Quaint Curiosities from the Vancouver Police Museum

The Coroners Candy Cane of Death.

Each layer of pills has caused a death.

Home Made Weaponry

The Mace has a certain rustic charm but why, if you had a hand gun

would you pull it apart to turn it into a knife. Silly Criminals.

A Hand Smeered with BBQ Sauce.

The tempting Morgue Drawers that got me into trouble



The contents of the body bag.
(It was already unzipped, I just peered inside)

Clearly realism wasn't important to this particular exhibit

and yet, they did attempt to give the "body" a cause of death,
albeit a fairly poor one.

And lastly, there is this:

There is so many things I could say about this amazing image that I'm lost for words. If I had more than three readers this would, indeed, be a caption contest image. There are just so many question I have about this one.

I feel I should point out that I have no issues with the Canadian Police Force. I am sure they are doing a bang-up job. It seems clear, however, that the curator of this Museum has a sense of humour as I hope the Police Force does as well.


Also,  giant beaver:

Hey now, don't dream its over.

Hello my little squirrels! Apologies for leaving you adrift in the big, bad world for so long.
I am now, settled in Vancouvie, after several tumultuous weeks of sad good byes in LA and a cold, rainy hello to Canada. I spent my initial time here canvassing for work and a home. I now have both. I start tomorrow at a lovely bakery/cafe that already thinks I'm the shiz and wants to make me supervisor and I am busy getting comfy in a lovely house in Kits (that's Kitsilano to the foreigners) with two lovely cats and their two lovely people.

Here is your first glance of Vancouver:

On the weekend my homies took me mushroom picking on a nearby mountain. We were hunting for Chanterelles. We did not find any. More to come, squirrels. I really promise this time.

There'll be time enough for counting...

Today, I walked around for about an hour with my fly undone, but we're not here to talk about that. We're talking about my weekend in shiny shiny Vegas!!

We walked the Strip, saw a naughty Vegas show, lay about a roof top pool, and of course, got our gamble on where we actually made money! Seems we know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, except we weren't playing poker but wonderful wonderful craps. That's the one where you throw the dice down the table. Turns out I'm not a bad little roller.

The girl swears we ended at least one hundred dollars in front. To me, the weekend was a blur of twenty dollar bills and five dollar chips, so I'll trust her mathematics. These are my Benjamin's:

While we're on the subject of silly American money, check out this dollar bill I got somewhere around San Francisco:

It's a keeper.

The dealers at the Stratosphere - our hotel, that looks rather a lot like the Seattle Space Needle - were super friendly, as were most of the men playing at our table. I, may or may not, have had a slightly low cut t-shirt on at the time. It is also quite possible, that one of the dealers got all flustered and confused resulting in us getting more money. Of course, it is also very possible that we didn't quite know all the rules and he was just doing his job.

Unfortunately, with all the excitement I left my camera in the hotel room when we walked the strip. I picked up a disposable camera along the way in hope of grungy yet artist photos. But all I got was dark. Here is the Flamingo to illustrate said photo quality.

On Saturday night, we saw Zumanity! Finally, finally, I got to see the naughty naughty adults-only Cirque Du Soleil. It was quite enjoyable and had much more of a cabaret format than the other Cirque's I've seen (think I'm up to five now) but truth be told, I feel I've become a little jaded. It was all very polished and practised of course, but this somehow made it feel a little tame. For a passionate subject matter the passion had wilted away into routine. It seems Zumanity has represented yet another aspect of sexual relations, albeit unintentionally. As usual though, fabulous costumes and production values. Also the clowns were not the usual, confusingly strange French-Canadian kind and actually were quiet funny...

Too harsh? In case it ever comes up, remind me never to become a critic.

(Actually, the link on the second Zumanity is a "making-of" which is getting interesting. I may have more opinions on the show once I finish watching the 4 parts. Watch this space, as they say.)

On a completely different note, do you like Pirates and Homeless people? Yes? Then you will love this guy. I met him while working downtown. He gave me his card. It was a surprisingly professional looking business card.

...it's enough to drive you crazy if you let it

For several weeks now, I have been volunteering for a crazy ex-cowboy who is doing good arty things downtown. The man has done much for revitalising what used to be skid row. He has instigated a wonderful art event once a month and moved many independent designers into store fronts around the area. But his lack of linear thought is preventing me from tooting his triumphs too loudly. He has somehow associated me with secretarial duties and so I have frequently been called in to note-take on our strolls around downtown. The plus side, of course, is that I, now, know Downtown like the back of my hand and every so often get a sneak peak at a beautiful, old, closed-down theatre. The event we have been working towards is this Thursday. Hopefully then I will be able to stop checking my email a bajillion times a day on the off chance I may be of some use.

Also, I'm going to Vegas on Friday so nothing else matters really. I will finally get to see naughty naked Cirque Du Soleil and the girl likes to gamble so I guess I'll be doing some of that too. A review site just told me "don't take your mom" to this show, however, I think Mummy would enjoy some scantily clad acrobats and if she was here I would insist she she the show... Perhaps I should actually see the show before recommending it to my mother.

In other news, it seems I have discovered a sport I like. It's called Roller Derby. Basically its a bunch of tattooed chicks roller skating in circles while trying to nudge each other out of the way. Observe here. Also, keep your beady eyes peeled for a Drew Barrymore/ Ellen Page film called Whip it!

Hello? Is it me you're looking for?

So I've been AWOL for a while. I know. And I've got some recapping/'splaining to do. But let's just know I didn't and pretend I did. Our little secret. Because truth is, I don't want to recount days of old while I'm still living the here and now.

So if, in the near future, I reference something that seems new and confusing. Don't be afraid, my little squirrels. Just hold tight and I will do my best to get you up to speed.

For now though, I will not be telling you of my past adventures. No accounts of Drag shows in Austin, no yarns of crazy hot nights sleeping in a van throughout the South, no tales of Seattle Space Needles or Disney in the Dark Burlesque. These will no doubt come though.

Be Patient squirrels, be patient.

Happy 4th of july!

Yes, yes I realise (with an s) that the 4th was days ago but I was too busy having a happy 4th of July to wish you all a happy 4th of July. 

My happy 4th did not include fireworks or BBQs or Beer drinking. Instead my lady friend and I went to see a screening of Jaws in the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. And we all know how I love a cemetery. This particular one has some lovely palm trees silhouetted by the faint pink glow of the city around it. 

My lack of 4th fireworks was rectified on the 5th. We went to THE Hollywood Bowl to see Tegan and Sara and Death Cab for Cutie. Apparently DCFC are kind of huge because they talked the LA Philharmonic Orchestra into playing with them and had an accompanying pyrotechnic display for their finale. They were most enjoyable and the Bowl sounds incredible. My only question is where was T&S's Orchestra and Fireworks? Hmm?

I must admit that living in Sydney has somewhat desensitised me to the marvels of fireworks. Although I can now appreciate the caliber of an Aussie firework. They really are quite good.

Where the F#*K has Sascha been. Part 2...

And so it was time to say our goodbyes to Bonnaroo and drive off into the sunsets of the south. Linda and I had intended to leave Manchester for Memphis, but we took a wrong turn - there will be many more such turns - and so we headed for Birmingham, Alabama.

As filthy as we were after the Roo, we needed to find showers asap so we stopped at a truck stop along the way. Aparently, truck stops want you to pay $10 for a shower. It is my firm belief that showers are a human right, like fresh drinking water and civil union. Truckers however, like our new friend Mike, get free showers as rewards on their trucky/petrol cardy things. Mike had to hang around while his truck was getting registered or something something and so offered us one of his shower point things. Clearly we looked that revolting and disheveled that the man felt a little sorry for us. 

Best. Shower.  Ever. And I've had some good showers in my time but after a week of hot-smelly-Tennessee-camping-music-festival dirt, nothing could compare. It was then that I discovered that half of my awesome tan was actually dirt as it scrubbed off. I do still have myself a fairly fantastic arm tan though. Finally, I actually look Australian.

Clean and shiny we were back on our way. The further south we got the harder I found it to understand people. Don't even ask me what the guy in the Birmingham laundry mat was saying. Even Linda couldn't understand him and she's from Kentucky. 

Side note: Linda is from Louisville. She must have said "Louisville" like a hundred times to me and only now have I realised what she's been saying. I thought it started with a W.

Now I realise we arrived in Birmingham on a Monday night and we may have been in the business district, however, there ain't nothing in that place. We spent what felt like hours looking for somewhere to eat. There was nothing open and no one around. Eventually we found a Pizza Hut (that was about to close), stuffed ourselves with greasy, saturated fats then curled up in the van to sleep it off.

Day two and we made it to New Orleans! Sorry, I mean N'awlins.  

Every thing from here on out was "hot as balls" as the loacls say. Luckily for us we were staying at a hostel with a pool. The water was so warm it was practically like taking a bath except with the germs of several Dutch boys and a whole bunch of Aussies floating around. Staying at the India House Hostel also reaffirmed what I have believed all along; The Australians are taking over. It is amazing how strong an Australian accent sounds when you haven't heard one in a while. Mate, we are bogans. But lovable bogans at very least.

Most of our time here was spent riding bikes through the French Quarter. That place certainly has personality. Makes me wish I was Tennessee Williams - minus the lobotmised sister and alcoholism- sitting on my balcony over looking the happenings on the street below.  

I wish we could have stayed longer. I was interested in further exploring the damage that still    remains from Katrina. Little bits of restoration seem to be everywhere, but The Quarter was barely effected. The severe damage occured further down the river where the levees broke. Those areas are apparently the lower income areas and so there is much rebuilding that still needs doing. Hurricane season starts next month and there is a strong belief that New Orleans will flood again someday. I'm not entirely sure how the levee system works, but apparently its not real strong in some places. 

Its amazing that with all the destruction, the town has retained its character. The tourists are still flocking to Bourban Street, the musicians are still playing their bit of foot path, the titty-bars are still open for business AND you can still take your drinks anywhere in town. 

Big Daddy's World Famous Love Acts

That was perhaps my favourite part of the place. The chaos that some how seems to function. You can buy a drink at one bar, walk around the streets and into another bar with the same drink! You can even go into gift shops or grocery stores with your drink. There are no crosswalks but people don't get run over. There are no laws about bike riding yet people bike everywhere. It really is a crazy, wonderful place.

 

Where the F#*K has Sascha been. Part 1...

Ok I know I'm a terrible Blogger. I've neglected the bloggosphere for weeks. My poor mother is on her death bed because the world is so horrible and without my witty repartee she has nothing to live for. Actually she just has the flu. See? Now I'm lying. Oh where will my horribleness end?!

How about right now dearest readers! That's right, I'm back with a vengeance and a burning desire to recap and over share. How does that sound? Fantastic!

I'm writing to you, once again, from sunny LA. But how on earth did I get myself back here? I here you ask. Well here's how. Cue Flashback music and wavy screen transition....

Our story begins in Nashville. Actually it began in San Francisco where I flew out of. It was here that I realised that my pants had a massive hole in the crotch. How long was this hole there? It certainly wasn't there when I got dressed to leave. And of course by the time this discovery was made my luggage, including all other pants, had already been checked onto the plane. Never fear, resourceful as anyone who attend CSU's Design for T&T, I used the pin from my "Happy Birthday Sascha" Disneyland badge to save me from further embarrassment. Lucky I wore undies that day.

So Nashville, where the lovely Linda collected me and off we went to Manchester. As Bonnaroo Volunteers (because we are cheap), we had to check in two days early and hang about until the happenings of the festival began a-happening. All I can say about those two days was that it was very hot and we set up a lovely campsite complete with Australian patriotism and battle cats.

Battle Cats Not Included

  

When the Roo officially began, I was introduced to my Volunteer Assignment. There was no trash (that means rubbish here) picking up for this little black duck, oh no, I was assigned to the Golf Cart Pool. I spent my two shifts being a golf buggy valet and at one point got to go on a buggy safari, on the hunt for stolen carts. Add to this amazingly enjoyable occupation the fact that neither of my shifts were scheduled at the same time as any of the bands I wanted to see, I felt like the luckiest Roo-ster in Manchester.

And what of the Bands? I hear you ask. Stellar. Never in Australia have I seen a festival line up of this magnitude. Public Enemy, Beastie Boys, Ani Difranco, MGMT (always thought this song was called Electric FIELD. Huh.), Bruce (The Boss) Springsteen (who treated everyone to a rendition of Santa Claus is coming to town), The Yeah Yeah Yeahs and my man, Snoop Dogg all on the one line up.

Erika Badu, a favourite of mine since high school, was phenomenal. Although the lady is not rocking the turban these days, her set had so much bass in it that I could feel my oesophagus vibrate. Girl Talk, had his own party up on stage with half the audience. Actually, no where close to half. That set was packed out. Kaki King (I do love me some Kaki) was shirtless! Although I did find the Yeah Yeah Yeahs playing one stage over some what distracting during Kaki's set. Karen O was going off.

I have nothing to say about Rodrigo y Gabriela except that they were amazing and my stand out favourite of the festival. Also, you should all listen to a Norwegian four piece called Katzenjammer. That's an order. They are not only adorable but their vocal harmonies are beautiful and they swapped instruments for every song. Those girls know how to put on a show.

I feel I should also mention Andrew Bird. Linda loves this man. She would possibly consider having his babies. He used to be the fiddler for a little group called The Squirrel Nut Zippers (whom I have just discovered have a FREE gig here in LA this month - Jealous, brother?) and also had a little something called Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire. Both were/are incredible. His new solo stuff, which he was playing at the Roo, is not as incredible as the aforementioned. But Linda did get the man to sign her Violin and that made her very happy.

Now I may have mentioned my fondness for Snoop Dogg before. While I do still love the man for his general snoop-ness, I suspect he may only have three songs. Also the crowd watching his set felt something a kin to spring break Cancun. To be expected really.

The Roo was indeed all the magic a festival should be. It was hot and dirty and muddy and rainy and smelly and heaps fun. I did not shower for a week - in true festival spirit and because,  despite free showers being offered to Volunteers I did not feel it important enough to wait in line for an hour to get one. Speaking of facilities, the USA, land of opportunity, does not have porter loos that flush. Nor do they have sinks. Come on guys, is this 1996? I can't remember the last Australian festival I attended where the facilities were so primitive. Oh well at least I know well enough not to fall in one. 

 

I'm sorry Ms Jackson...

Your son has died, over shadowing Farrah Fawcett in the process. 

I love me some MJ. I always have. Exhibit A is my current itunes library, Exhibit B is the fact the Billie Jean is not the only Jackson track I can sing-a-long to. The man was a genius and like all genius's had a few problems existing like the rest of us. Plebs that we are.

When the news broke, I was staying in Westwood, blocks away from UCLA Medical Facility where he died. Helicopters were flying overhead all day and the crazies camped outside the hospital were only a short walk away. Lovely. 

Let them eat cake!

Return of The Ev-I

Actually the Big Ev never stopped I just forgot to tell you guys about it. My darling Blogosphere, how I've neglected you. Apologies to my fans, in particular Kym who has not had a reason to get out of bed since the introduction of Super Diva.

I think maybe I've been in a bit of a non-blogity funk after leaving the fabulous people of LA to be all alone in the wilds of San Francisky.  Actually I'm not alone at all. I'm staying with my Mum's Half Brother's Wife's Twin Sister. She is mothering me as best she can, cooking for me more than my own does and warning me of the wiles of being a single gal in North America. It's all very sweet if not a tad unnecessary.

So the question is, what, o what have I've been getting myself into since we last met. Well, there has been much sitting on couches but that hardly amounts to news. Also there was this:

The happiest, most lovely work place in the world.

I went to Grauman's Chinese Theatre and saw the concrete. Here's me, (auto) straddling Susan Sarandon's teeny tiny feet:

Then saw Terminator Salvation inside Grauman's Chinese Theatre. Now, I'll admit I wasn't paying all that much attention but this film actually isn't even that very good. This is my summation: 

Christen Bale is all serious and using his Batman voice. Lots of really loud explosions go off and bullets fly. Then a man appears covered in chocolate pudding. Turns out pudding man is a robot which is obvious about 2 minutes after the pudding is gone but is not actually revealed for another hour. Then someone says" come with me if you want to live" followed by more loud, ear shattering, explosions.  I don't know how kids these days can stand it. I had to turn the hearing aid down. 

Christen Bale is still all super serious and says "I'll be back". Suddenly Helena Bonham Carter appears as a super smart robot and a complete waste of her talents. Pudding man is tackled by by a Computer generated, porn star days, Arnie. I assume it was CG because the Governator certainly does not look like that anymore. Explosions, bullets, Christen Bale gets impaled and robot pudding man donates his heart so that Christan Bale can continue his super serious bat voiced tirade. Aaaaaaand Scene.

After several more infuriating days on LA public transport it was farewell City of Angels hello San Francisco! And its many flavoured burrows. I've been to Fisherman's Wharf for clam chowder, seen murals in Mission, rainbows in The Castro, drug addicts in the Tenderloin, Chinatown, Downtown, and! and! Alcatraz!

At Fisherman's Wharf they have a place dedicated to old school arcade games. We're not talking Pacman and Pog, I'm talking REAL old school. For 5c this house told me my fortune was to marry four times: 

and this wizard dude told me my job will be this:

Anyone know what a taxi dancer is? Is that like Shirley Maclaine in Sweet Charity? Is that like a whore? Fair enough.

Then on Saturday I went to The Maker's Faire in San Mateo. Oh Lordy, geeks everywhere! And the really incredibly encouraging thing was that most people there were young. They were my age and really interested in creating stuff. Yay the world! Yay Gen Y! Yay the future!

I particularly liked this:

You can purchase it here.

It seems the kids these days are into Steampunk and LEDs. See, I'm hip.

Then there was art at SFMOMA and De Young Museum, most notably the R. Mutt Urinal, and exploratoring and the Exploratorium. Alas it was freeby day so all the kiddies were getting in the way of my play time. Brats! Every one of them!

That sounds bout it. Except for the Prop 8 rally I saw. I have a lot of feelings about the validity of rallies. I'm not entirely sure they do much actual furthering of the cause. But that's a conversation for another time.

On Monday I fly to BON-A-ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I'm totally going to meet Snoop Dogg. You know you're jealous.

 

 

I'm a Super Diva. Super, Super, Super Diva .

 Saturday, I was treated to a trip to Long Beach Pride. Never in my life have I seen so much rainbow. The people who invited me were volunteering for Equality-something-something. Marriage equality is the gripe du jour here. I have a lot of feelings about this that I won't bore you with right now. Let me just say that I think there needs to be a debate into the semantics of what is being proposed. And of course, that Jesus needs to get the fuck out of politics.

Annnnnnnnyway, as well as the multitude of rainbow souvenirs I saw the most amazingly passionate signers I ever hope to see.

And this guy, who sang an original composition for Pride Idol. It's called Super Diva and is so bad, it's fabulous. This song has been on rotation in my brain since. I only wish I got more footage so you could all see its true glory. 

Stop. Hammer time.

The Museum not the happy-panted, white-collared big guy. This blog post would be more aptly titled Get Some Culture Up Ya as I wish to share with the world some wonderful artists I've seen here in LA. 

For those of you who don't follow art, suck it up and get some culture up ya.

Firstly, I saw a lovely exhibition of local contemporary LA artists at The Hammer.

Llyn Foulkes - Does some lovely 3D collages.

Charles Irvin - His work feel like it was made by an inmate of a mental deviancy institution. I like a bit of crazy in my artists though

Victoria Reynolds - Paints meat!! And titles her works things like Reindeer in the Snow. 

Lisa Anne Auerbach - Lots of feminisey knitted dresses and photography.

I also went to MOCA last Thursday before having dinner with the boy genius that is Tathom. Microsoft was paying for him to be in LA for a tech conference and subsequently was paying for us to drink at the hotel bar.

MOCA has a wonderful permanent collection but the Dan Graham works that are just passing through were the most wonderful. Very architectural. We all know this excites me.

Then there was LACMA. Oh LACMA, how you pleasantly surprised me. The Los Angeles County Museum has a varied collection, as you would expect, but where every city in this country has Warhol, Lichtenstein and Jasper Johns (whom I have concluded is the art world's Jack Kerouac - American, patriotic, slightly chauvinistic, incredibly and unfoundedly well loved) on show, here, they actually show rare pieces. How many times have I seen Warhol's Elvis? Quite a few, but at least at LACMA it was presented in conjunction with a bunch of his other crazy shit.

There was a wonderful collection of German Expressionist. I like these guys. They're really dark aesthetically and thematically. You know, animals eating people and stuff. 

There was this:

Work by Frank West

Which reminded me of one of my own works:

I call this piece Mould of the Large Intestine

And this:

It's hard to tell from the piccy but this installation was giant iron curves that created long winding corridors for you to walk through. Walking through these structures reminded me of that one time in High School when a bunch of us dropped some acid and walked to Richmondo KFC. The footpath seemed to go on FOREVER. Sorry Mum. Only happened that once. Promise.

Also! Also! There was no video art! Not one little itty bitty piece. Nosferatu was being screened but that is most certainly not video art. Thank you LACMA for having standards. 

I am going to go out on a limb and say this; I am so over Rietveld's Red/Blue Chair. You see one of these in Australia and its super exciting. It's a historically significant item. Here, though, Every. Single. Gallery. Has. One. Come on, Rietveld, give us something new already. 

Next to LACMA is the La Brea Tar Pits. The only reason I wanted to see them was because they are featured in a comic I read. Unfortunately I couldn't get underneath them to see if there really is a secret lair. 

My understanding of the pits real, actual significance is this. Way back in the ice age, animals and stuff used to get trapped in the tar and die (as demonstrated above by the struggling mammoth), so, heaps (that's Australian for "a lot") of fossils were recovered from the pits. And thus The Pits have been kept on display in all their smelly glory.

 

Video content as promised.

 Apparently its not only a small world, but a very, very camp one.

Sunny Sanny D

 Haven't yet shared San Diego. I was all Swine fluey so it got a bit jumbled. I enjoyed myself. I did. And I know I had things to share but some of it feels a little like a dreamed it because of the foggy swineness.

NB: I did not actually have Swine Flu. Chillax Mum.

Soooooo I spent lots of time hanging about on my cousins veranda and lots of time sleeping but I also went to many of Sanny D's Museums. Luckily for lazy folk like me, most of them are in the one park. And a lovely park it is too:

Balboa Park

I remember being impressed with the Museum of the Living Artist. Largely due to being "so over" (that's So Cal speak) seeing art work by dead guys. I like that this museum is dedicated to showing contemporary pieces by contemporary people. I did go to the MCASD but it was showing works from the MCA's (Sydney) collection and it was all video art. Have I mentioned how I feel about video art? No? Well that's a rant for another time. Remind me after I've had a few and I'll tell you aaaaall about it. Amazingly they did not have any Tracy Moffat on show though.

The same day I went to the Reuben H. Fleet Science Center and saw an IMAX film about the Great Barrier Reef. Then, I come back to LA and the hostel is full of Aussies. The sneaky bastards are following me. Finally the awesomeness that is me has filtered back to mainstream Australia. I'll be signing autographs soon.

Back on point, the Reuben H. was rad. It was so hands on. There was edutainment bouncing off the walls! I didn't get to see it all though because spent a way-too-long on this:

Marvel of Modern Engineering

It works though! Roll a marble down it. Go on, it totally works. I'm that good.

Also, finally! Finally! I saw the body worlds exhibition by every one's favourite Creepy German, Gunther Von Hagen. 

Now, I'll be the first to admit that our mate Gunther has revolutionised anatomical display and education. The dude invented plastination Which is basically the process of replacing the fluid in organs with  plastic or rubber polymers so they are preserved and can hold their own structure. Incredible, however there is something ethically icky about this guy not to mention he makes some odd artistic choices and gets way to excited about things he shouldn't.

I'm always wary of where he finds his subjects. Supposedly, people donate their bodies to him, which may well be true and I admire anyone that donates their posthumous bits to science or medicine. But where did he find bits and bodies before he was world renowned Gunther, the Creepy German?

Let me go on record as saying I would like to donate my organs for people who need those organs to survive. BUT, if my bits end up in the hands of that man I will come back from the afterlife to wreak my bloody revenge on whoever made that happen. Hmmm, horror film anyone? So going to write that.

Hey Gunther, we know what you're Junk looks like.

Back to San D. Emmanuelle , my cus who lives in the barrio, took me to see a local Sanny D band. The B Side Players were superb and the lead singer had the most incredulous hair I've ever seen!  

Also oodles of noodles of Murals. Love a good mural. Have been inspired to do some muraling of my own. Watch this space...

You get the world for your birthday baby...

Welcome to my post birthday post. Feel free to sing me that song instead of the birthday song. Or this song is good any day of the year.

Disneyland really is the perfect place to spend your birthday if you're on your lonesome. Not only do you get in free but they give you a badge (actually I got two):

So that everyone knows its your birthday and everyone gives you a big "Happy Birthday".  The ride attendants, the food vendors that hates their jobs, other park goers, other May 13th-ers. So you feel both special and part of the crowd both at the same time.

I'm not sure if Disneyland is quite the happiest place on earth (I'm reserving my judgement until after I get to Dollywood) but it sure is chipper. I walked down Main St to one of my favourite musical nerd burger songs, I ate a pretzel that looked like Mickey, I ate a churrio that looked kind of phallic, I rode tea cups and Mickey even let me drive! He gave me a driver's licence that was just as easy to get as my international permit. 

Funnily enough, the autopolis attraction was the one with the longest wait, despite most of the people in the queue being adults that drive EVERY DAY. 

For a brief moment i wished Ffrench and LK were with me when I did the Indiana Jones Ride simple because they would have believed they were in fact Indie. Then i thought of all the revolting things they would be saying around small children and i was once again glad to be on my own.

Hey remember that film called "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?"? And remember how much I love that film called "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?"? Well check this:

I'd like to take a moment to reminisce the wonder that was wonderland. My fellow sydneysiders, come with me. Everyone else just know it was the shiz. Now Disney rides were good and their fabrication was superb. I could go on and on and on and on about the A-Mazing attention to detail in the dressings, however I wanted a little something extra. (I'm selfish like that, it's how I roll). Now maybe it was because I was younger and tinier and more of a wussbag but Wonderland had rides that Scared the shit out of me! Disney had no upsidey roller coasters, no free-falls, no space probe, no demon, no unsafe wooden rickety coaster. Alas.

Was a lovely, exhausting day, even without losing my guts. 

I have a little video content for you lovelies but alas it is not converting. Another time. 

Got the Pig

My brain is a little cloudy right now so I don't feel like my usual witty self. Apologies my adoring public, all six of you are very dear to me. I have the swine flu. 

Not really. I did hang out with a latino in LA but I'm fairly certain its not in their DNA. No, this is entirely self inflicted. The result of too many beers on too many nights. I blame the English. Damn them, with their pounds and their drink guzzling ways. Such a bad influence.

LA was lovely though. I plan on heading back their next week for a few more days. I desperately want to go to MOCA and Mickey is going to let me into Disneyland for free on Wednesday. He better not sing me Happy Birthday or I'll break his floppy jumbo ears. I loath that song. 

I saw lots of pretty things already in LA like sleeve tattoos, shiny shiny new cars and this guy:

The Shat

I made LA friends too (not just the naughty english ones).  One of said friends took her dog inside a club. Woman was on the dance floor with a fluffy black pomeranian in her arm. So LA. The other, is teaching me spanish... sort of. I now know the chile is salsa not jalepinos and can say beer and sleep. I'm almost fluent.

Right now I'm chillin' in San Diego with my cousin. I think I'll spend tomorrow at the beach provided I find myself a cheap and non-offensive bikini. Oh I guess that means I'll need to shave my legs too. Lame.

For those of you following its progress, the toe nail hasn't faired so well. 

The story so far...

Time for a "trip so far" picture. Actually this masterfully created graphic takes us from knoxvile, where we last checked in, to Nashville, Atlanta then onto Los Angeles and San Diego, which is where I plan to be around Sunday. Possible Saturday if I'm not too hung over. Note: the Mint Green dot is where I need to be on June 9th for Bonnaroo. Details, details.

Marvels of Nature

I have decided to grow my right pinky toe. The idea occurred to me after about 3 weeks away when I realised a) my toenails were in desperate need of trimming and b) my pinky toes have never been this long. Ever.

Here's my first progress report:

And yes, I am fully aware of both the ridiculousness of toes and specifically of my toes.

Today's number one feeling was brought to you by the art of puppetry and by the artist Jim Henson.

Finally! Puppets! 

I can now leave Atlanta knowing I've seen the best it has to offer. The Center for Puppetry Arts did me so right. If only it was in Canadia so i could woo them into hiring me.

I arrived at 11:30, just as a show was starting. It was called The Little Pirate Mermaid and was basically Disney's The Little Mermaid in puppets with more pirates and a less attractive sea-witch.

I absolutely adore seeing children's theatre with actual children in the audience. Their reactions are so vocal and innocent. There was a part near the beginning where Aerial/Molly had just fished the pirate captain out of the sea and she was all like "a kiss from a mermaid will bring him back to health". There was a giant "Eeewwwww" from the kids in the audience. Also when the puppeteers came out to take their bows, the audience went silent for a whole five seconds as the kids were figuring out who the G.D. these people in black were.

The bestest bit was when the pirates became "The Helpful Pirates" and helped a lost starfish by giving him a map. All in shadow puppetry. Those crazy pirates. 

Anyway, so the pirate and mermaid got married and had a kid and lived happily ever after on land or sea, which ever they chose. Art imitating life. Oh wow, wouldn't it have been great if they showed the mermaid giving birth through puppetry?! 

Even without the masterpiece that was The Little Pirate Mermaid, the museum would still have been all sorts of rad. They have a Jim Henson Exhibition on at the moment. Jim Mother-Funking Henson! There were Skesis' and Big Bird and the swedish chef and check this out:

Ernie is my homeboy

The permanent collection was fairly extensive as well and they have a workshop where they design/construct everything for their shows. I would love love love to work there but alas I am foreign. 

Oh and as promised, here's this:

I took a whole bunch of footage at this event and will hopefully get to do something exponentially more interesting with it once its all converted. I should have some great stuff of the kids in my cabin playing musics. I contributed with mediocre bongoing that was hopefully drowned out by actual real life musicians.

Went for a big long walk...

In bad shoes. You would think I'd have learnt. But I like variety, I was doing my feet an ascetical favour. 

Today I went to the happiest place on earth!!! The World of Cocoa Cola. Now I know what you're thinking. How delightfully tacky! And you'd be right. 

No one promotes like Coke. Maybe Apple but they learnt it all from Coke. I could have watched commercials for hours but there was a world of weird and wonderful sodas to taste.

Did you know that Tanzania has a drink called Stoney that tastes like carbonated Stone's Ginger Wine?

Asian has several beverages that taste like all sorts of Push-Pops.

And somewhere here in North America there is a flavour of Fanta that is just like drinking Vick's Vapor Rub.

I came out feeling a little woozy on sugar. Then they give you a free Coke!

Drank beer with German boys last night and found them to be a little rude. They were pissing off the locals so I found myself going into damage control. Actually most of the fellow travellers I've met along the way I have not been a fan of. 

I met a Kiwi (is that offensive?) girl a few nights ago, and yes, she gave me beer, but I found her to be really bitter. I'll admit that America has done some dumb shit and there is a bunch of dumb laws here, but the Americans that I've been fortunate enough to meet have been lovely and definitely not as dumb as you would expect. 

People here, know they're living amongst stupidity. They're not that ignorant and foreigners just look like assholes for acting like they are. Who's ignorant now, mien Herr? huh?

And so I've left Tennessee.

I'm now sitting in Hotlanta thinking I should have stayed longer. Oh well I bought my bus ticket and had to sit on it. I'm not even sure how to talk of TN. There was nothing and everything happening simultaneously. 

For the past week I resided at the Clam Shack. A Nashville institution or at very least it should be. I was surrounded by  crazy characters and friends of crazy characters and bandmates and nieghbours and Shack alummnai and all the stories of all the people that had come before me.

Nashville is a little difficult to get around in without a car or at least generous new friends who have cars. I had the latter.

Nashville has lots of music and musicians playing both country and music that you'd actually want to listen. I saw the latter.

I drank beer and rode bikes (without a helmet. Sorry Mum) and had crazy conversations about crazy theoretical theories (ask me about the universe being swiss cheese. Go on, I dare you).

And then, after all this relaxing randomness there came this:

This was meant to be rad video content but I'm having file conversion issues 

so this will have to do. 

More on that to come.

Hey Hey Kids

 Have been hiding out in Nashville for a few days. Unfortunately for y'all, there's been too many people to talk to so my brain has not formulated anything for me to write.  I will make up for this after the weekend as I've been invited to a medieval re-enactment event. 

My understanding of said event is that people make foam weapons then fight each other with them all day. At night everyone gets drunk. The event is in a national park just outside of Nashville. Shall be quite the experience me thinks.

Meanwhile, enjoy this: