Pikers Pikers Everywhere

Pike #1*
Saturday - I had tickets and my former roomie Sarah changed her mind/ didn't return my calls. There is a whole story there but lets just say this is the final straw and her number is now permanently deleted from my phone. (not forgiven)

Luckily I offered myself up to a very sexy guy who wined and dined me. He picked me up from my apartment, drove me into the city in his convertible, bought me drinks and dinner etc. He is absolutely hot and yes the only downfall is that he is gay.

How unfair, if only I could sprout a cock, become a man, and date him I would. In fact he's good looking in a traffic stopping kind of way and it happened twice while I was in his presence. Who knew that really happened? He's My New Hero - but Cherry Banchele is still up there and can incidentally also be named and shamed as a piker herself for her Italian weekend effort of "I'm not going to Venice with you and you can't make me."

In true Cherry style she blames the evil Maritza. Loves it. However, if it was to me Ms Cherry- I wouldn't loves it so much and your arse would be in Venice and having a damn good time sourcing out the saucy hot Italian sasuage.

Pike#2
This probably isn't a technical pike but I must name and shame myself. I was scheduled for an interview this morning. A 7.50am interview that is! Who the bollocks schedules an interview for that time on a Sunday anyway? NOVA - the people who interview for English teachers in Japan, that's who. My alarm went off at 6am (way to early after getting back late from my faux date) and I was on the phone soon after spouting some bullshit reason as to why I couldn't make it. NOVA will be back next month but I'm sure my name has moved from the A list to the black list so we'll see if I'm invited back.

Pike # 3,4&5
Tonight is Tropfest. The annual outdoor film festival in Sydney. Last year I didn't get to go because Sarah piked on me at the last minute (ooh, running theme here.) So I thought I would line up three different groups with the intention that one of them would surely show. WRONG.

After an all night sexathon my friend was simply too tired to make it (forgiven). Ex roomie Drew just landed from a week long business trip in Bali so he was out too (forgiven.) KJ didn't call either but lives far far away out of the city (forgiven). And now it's raining and the bloody festival has been called off early - that teaches the organizers for marketing it as going ahead 'rain, hail or shine.'

Next Week
Next Saturday is Mardi Gras. I'm going to the parade but am starting to sniff more pikers. The guest list is always long at the beginning but they drop like a glitter from a marching boy's shorts when Saturday night rolls around. I am going to that parade even if it's on my own.

*I can't remember any other terms for piker - it's a person who ditches out at the last minute.

Wonka and One-Night Stands

I'm hung over from last night and the only thing that seems to make sense to eat is a weird combo - hot dog frankfurts, a croissant, a wagon wheel and pineapple juice. I can't find the Advil and am too lazy to walk to the shops so i'm suffering through it.

I was lining up to see a live re-voicing of the original Willy Wonka movie when my guests and I got antsy. We felt that the bar was calling our names louder than the Oompa Loompas were PLUS the door bitch was being over zealous with her clipboard antics so we fucked Wonka off, and headed to Bondi.

Now, I'm generally a vino or cocktail girl but if you put a beer in front of me I’m not one to pass up it up. A bevoir is a bevoir and I’ll accept all offers. Sure, lets blame my being polite as the reason for my being drunk.

My friend's ex/friend was out with us and on the prowl for a one-night stand. He's a gardener/landscaper - the equivalent of the Desperate Housewives guy but Aussie but more of a rugged type.

So gardener guy revealed he has a pre one-night stand domestic preparation routine that he undergoes. It's essentially tidying up his house and making it 'female friendly.' You've got to be ready I guess. I wonder, is there also a plan B, C, D in place in case something goes wrong?

Sadly for gardener guy there was no one-night stand but he did get to take his ex and me home with his brother. That actually sounds far more interesting but really; it's not at all what you think. At least if it were to happen he would have been prepared.

The Half-Nekkid Eye

.In the spirit of continuing with the naked theme here is my first 'Half-Nekkid Thursday' pic. Check out Mike's blog for some sexy HNT.

The Naked Truth, Almost...

If a punter chooses to bang his co-worker over a desk while in plain view from their office block it's my right to look. Connel Wagner building in Neutral Bay - Mondays around 9.30pm 4th floor.

If a neighbour chooses to leave their window open while shagging and screaming up a storm it's my right to listen. My apartment block - any Sunday morning and she is loud.

But what if you've seen someone naked and they don't know it?

I'm due to meet a guy I've accidently seen naked. Yes, accidently I swear! Do I go on pretending that I don't already know his religion based on his choice cut (not Jewish for the record.)

It wasn't like he was a private dancer dancin' for money. There were loads of people. Although I did pay for it but it's not what you think.

He's an actor in a play and I've been e-mailing him re: NYC stuff. I thought I should go see the play beforehand. I do my research, you see.

In the second act his kit was off and he was standing there delivering a monologue stark bullock naked. There was no where else to look. Maybe at his face but what fun would that be?

I think I'm going to tell him that I plan on seeing the play and see what he says. Unless he likes the fact that I've seen it. It's possible. If he's willing to show the world his bits then I'm sure my having seen it is the least of his concern.

N.B Naked actor boy is not the guy pictured that is Antonio the Italiano (consider him a little gift from me for reading the blog.)

Flat out Sharing

Over the past 6 years I've lived with 32 people in 11 different places. This spans 3 countries and 4 cities and does not include my summers spent sharing a platform tent with a Dutch and Israeli girl. 8 of these people are from my summer spent interning in London. My happiest time was in the ground floor apt in the London Docklands. Great apartment, great view, great people, great life!

My sitch now in Sydney has been an asshole of a ride. So far 6 people have lived in this 3br that we call resort style living. The roomie history for this apt goes like this. Drew and Sarah were here first and got me in. They remain cool esp Drew who is letting me house sit in Newtown next week. Cheers thanks a lot (I promise I'll be vegetarian while in the apt).

Flat mate replacement #1 was a personal trainer who lied about cash and moved out within a week. He's left his live in girlfriend to join our home and we suspect he went back to her. It wasn't us he was a shifty bastard who later told our friend sheen that he had to go look after his sick mother!

Had Drew not bumped the freckle muscled lad one morning we would have returned to an empty apt. 6 months later he still hadn't returned to collect his 25kg bucket of body builder protein powder or faux Aboriginal artwork (even though he called 3 times to arrange pick up.) This guy had a truck outside and was busy loading it while Drew was still in the apt. He saw Drew in the hall and less than 5 minutes later called him saying that he was leaving and would be out by night.

The Personal trainers successor had scored a job working for the government in the money laundering investigations department. This lemming had the government call me requesting my personal details and a list of every country I've ever been including exact dates. Screw that. Nobody has that information so I rejected this request in a not so polite way. The Lemming stayed in his room for hours and most of the time you wouldn't know if he was there or not. Freak.

The new generation here are busy starring in their own soapy. They've each dated the other's best friend and now after both being dumped, their best friends are dating each other. So all that is left to finish it off is for them to date each other or date their own best friend.

Side note: Michael Jackson's "Liberian Girl" is playing. I always thought it was "librarian Girl."

Market my Arse out the Door!

Week two of my marketing class and I've already quit. This wasn't via fax or phone or e-mail this was one of those grand exits -- walking out in the middle of class.

"Had ENOUGH have you?" the rotund Scotch teacher asks looking puzzled as I'm halfway out the door.

He's oblivious to the idea that his ranting could have offended anyone.

"I've had ENOUGH of your derogatory comments" I say flatly looking him right in the eye.

Ahh, the penny drops and panic sets in as he starts to plead "please forgive me" but I sharply cut him off "no, I don't forgive you" and keep walking.

He was telling the class how he was homophobic and started asking "What is a heterosexual anyway? (confused with the meaning of metrosexual) I can't tell the difference in Sydney between boys and girls. Poofters this Blah Blah Blah."

My blood was boiling, my heart was racing and my anger building. Frankly I could not believe what I was hearing. He continued on to say that "poverty is self inflicted." What the?

The second time he used the word "poofter" that was it. I was up and out of there like a bullet. I just couldn't take it any longer and someone needed to let him know that this was not okay.

Once I was out of class I paused at the end of the hallway to listen to the aftermath. He launched into damage control apologizing if he offended anyone. Sadly the class was silent but at least my ojection was noted.

Round two tomorrow. Jude calls the school...

Mortified by my Mobile

My V-day traumas continue. I was in the spirit sending a few texts here and there and was shocked when my ex-boss texted me "Happy Valentine's Day!"

What? It must be a group text as the one I got wasn't personalized. That's a bit cheeky. What the bollocks am I supposed to write to that?

It was about 20 minutes later when I stopped dead in my tracks and realized the error of my ways. Oh shite, she was responding to a text I sent to her. Fuckety, fuck.

I had written a text to a friend who bares the same name as my ex-boss and sent it to the wrong one. I have a flash back to my writing of the text in between phone calls while on assignment . Of course the note included my revival phrase "eat your heart out" and a bastardisation of her name.

I convince myself that I didn't send it. I remember the phone ringing but I don't quite recall the part where I press send. Maybe I didn't press send.

I used to have the proof of delivery function set on my phone but since I found out that they count as a text I cancelled. Clearly Vodaphone is at fault here. Bastards.

I place an urgent call to friend. No answer. I send another text asking for confirmation of my V-day wishes. The response stings "I hate to break it to you but you..."

I did all the right things; I listed (WORK) after the bosses name in the phone. The only reason she is still there to screen calls from her. I haven't used it I swear. This phone ettiquete is meant to be idiot proof (possibly). Jude proof, (No). Now it says BOSS great dirty big caps. B-O-S-S and then the name.

On the embarrasment scale of ex-boss relations this one just registers -clearly not the worst. Maybe I should send the number to the mobile phone graveyard where the number of my ex-personal trainer resides. R-I-P model/ actor /trainer number.

Dirty Dazza Ditched Me

That Bastard. Should I be at all surprised that my garage squatter Dazza has moved his stuff out and ran off owing me money? No. The message was sent to me via text. Considering he was forced to sleep in a garage for 5 days it's no real shock. Luckily for me he was nice enough to return the clicker and the key. Happy V-Day Jude. At least you're getting screwed by someone.

Eat your heart out on V-day

I am trying to bring back the saying "eat your heart out" and have decided that V-day is going to be the day to start. It's such a hot little saying; you are sure to appear hotter by using it. It's so retro.

The sexy Ribena guy who works at the outdoor cinema is my first target.

A perfect place would be at the cereal dating night at Westfield Bondi Woolies or Coles. You know, the place where you dolly around with your trolley and a box of cereal sticking out the top that best describes you. e.g Fruit Loops for the eccentrics, Variety Packs for the one night stand types, or Nutri-Grain for the gym buffs. I used to think this was an urban myth until I saw a press release put out by Westfield although, i've never met anyone who has admitted to doing it.

This year V-day is on Tight Arse Tuesday so going to the cinema is guaranteed to be a maze of clinging couples out to see Cassanova.

Hula Hoops and and a Head of Lettuce

I was on my way to Woolies to pick up a head of lettuce when I spotted a girl carrying 3 hula hoops. Well, not spotted from a distance like "look up there yonder what are those hoop like things that person is carrying?" More like she was walking past me and I said "What's up with the hoops?"

Apparently she takes a weekly Sunday evening hula class here in Sydney town! I guess if there are pole dancing schools why not hula hoop schools.
Anyway, these were no ordinary hula hoops. They were special weighted ones with red and white/blue and white stripes like a candy cane. They were kind of like the ones in primary school that were used in p.e class for athletics day, not the dodgy Barbie pink home version that always had a couple of sharp bends and a ball spinning around inside. These were bona fide professional hoops.

I was eager to find out more from hula hoop girl; was she a circus performer, a cheerleader, a go-go dancer or maybe a stripper and most importantly could she do it while on rollerskates (the old school kind)?

She claimed she was doing it just for "fun" but I think we can safely assume that she was really a go-go dancer in training Boogie Nights style. She did after all have those bitty shorts with the racing stripe down the side. Maybe there is a new cool bar opening in Syd and if there isn't there should be.

Nope she can't do it on skates but I assured her it would only be a matter of time. And before we knew it we had reached the literal fork in the road. As she veered off to her apartment we paused and smiled at each other for a second, me knowing she was really an in denial go-go dancer and her knowing I might be going to buy a lettuce but I sure wasn't going eat it. She was right.

What is a Bogan?

A bogan is a yobbo or a bevan, typically with a mullet haircut and tight jeans. Some bogans are obvious, like Warwick Capper, others are understated like Tina Arena or Kate Langbroek. But the question remains, are you a bogan? Well with the following quiz, by choosing answers A, B or C, we can establish for once and all, if you are a bogan.

This comes from: http://phat.shafted.com.au/text/bogan

At the Fish and chip shop you would order:
a. Chiko roll and chips... extra salt.
b. Piece of flake, banana fritter and some wedges.
c. Grilled piece of flake, small salad and a can of diet coke.

When you go on a holiday you choose:
a. Bali, Surfers or Rosebud.
b. Noosa, Lorne or Thailand.
c. Broome, Vietnam or Europe.

Your favourite holiday is booked with:
a. Contiki
b. Flight Centre
c. STA

You buy some smokes, you prefer:
a. Winnie Blues
b. Benson and Hedges
c. You don't smoke, it's bad for you.

Your favourite person on 'Neighbours' is:
a. Toady
b. Brooke Satchwell
c. Harold

You watch Melrose Place and look at Amanda, you think:
A. She's a spunk
B. She's alright
c. She's a slut

The sticker on the back of your car says:
a. If it's rocking don't bother knocking!
b. No Fear
c. Magic Happens

You call your Dad:
a. The old man
b. Dad
c. Father dearest or Sir

The last book you read was:
a. Anything by Max Walker, he's a pisser.
b. Anything by Stephen King, he's brilliant.
c. Anything by Irvine Welsh/Will Self, they're wonderful.


If you answered mainly A's. You're a full on moccasin wearing, holden driving bogan. You're proud of the fact and you aspire to be like Gary Ablett or Jimmy Barnes. You were spewing when Rose Tatoo broke up and your idea of a good saturday night is footy replay, followed by Sizzler/Smorgys then a Van Damme Video from Movieland.

If you answered mainly B's. You're what we call a 'Closet Bogan'. Someone who has the basic bogan instincts but is supressing them. You most likely grew up in the outer suburbs then moved into the inner suburbs when you went to Uni. But you can't deny it, you love playing kick to kick in the street, you've got couple of flannies in your wardrobe, you secretly sing along to The Angels tracks when your radio 'accidentally' finds itself on MMM. Face up to it, you're a bogan.

If you answered mainly C's. You're a snob, any bogan would call you a poof, regardless of sex type or orientation. You have no bogan in you at all. No amount of Cold Chisel albums or tight stretch jeans will ever change you. You sit in cafes where you work on your screenplay/play/book. All your friends are all called Jeremy and Tash and you grew up in a middle class suburb. Sorry your bogan credentials are zero.

Newcastle City of Brides

I spent the weekend in Newcastle "Newi" to the locals or "Lake Macquarie" to the expats to embarrassed to admit they are from Newcastle (yes, I've done it.)

Nat and I we were driving to the ocean baths for a quick afternoon dip when wedding parties materialized out of nowhere. It was like the amazing race and they were all heading to the same beach. In the space of an hour we came across 3 weddings. Naturally, we felt compelled to jump out of the car to have a look.

One wedding was a casual affair - barefoot on the beach. It even had a sprinkling of locals lying in their bikinis amongst the guests. Apparently budget beach barbie didn't think it appropriate to launch her ass of the towel and move so the guests could stand be close to the alter. Yes, they were crowded around an inflatable palm tree and the red surfboard did double as the alter but I didn't say it was a classy wedding. Halfway through the ceremony (did I mention that Nat and I managed to blend in as guests) beach barbie moved. Hoorah. We also decided to make an exit after the kiss.

The other wedding was an over the top affair with the bride still wearing her platforms on the beach and a snarl on her face. Hello Bridezilla... The bridesmaides were dressed in flaming red gowns.

Later in the night after fending off some bogans at the bar who just made too many references to balls, seeing a biker walk past and steal a platter from the party jump on his bike and ride off, I came across one of the bridesmaids at the petrol station.

I took her advice not to go use the public loo because "some bitch pissed on the seat and its disgusting, just don't go in love." Somewhere between her slurred words and drunken sway did I realised that in fact she was the one who pissed on the seat and it was such a nice gown too. I guess it's just lucky it was such a dark shade of red?

I smiled, motioned to her equally as drunk groomsman stooped on a milk crate and wished her well. A quick wink and a promise that she would probably be the next one to be married seemed to make her forget about the bathroom incident for a minute. Her sight was then on the groomsman. Oh no, I hope it's not going to be a shotgun wedding between the two.

Licensed to Drive... a Tractor

It's finally happened. I've got my gold license. Yes, it took me more than 10 years but this one allows me to drive a vehicle seating up to 12 adults (mini van?), a 4.5 tonne truck and a tractor. Hmm, I can't even drive stick but bugger it if the government will let me drive a tractor - why not?

The RTA lady gave me a little wink when she handed me the hot little license only confirming that old adage "the bigger the hair the better the girl" and "mascara is always a good idea."

Now all I need is a car or a tractor.

Sydney Celeb Sightings

Andrew Daddo @ the Greenpark. There are so many of the Daddo brothers that I had to work out who it was by a process of elimination (prompted by by roomie Chloe). Cameron? (no) Lachie? (no) Andrew (no) "Is he's on one of those travel shows?" "Yes." Then it's Andrew.

Kate Fischer @the Starlight Cinema opening night. She was blonde and fabulous.

2006 Celebrity sightings: 2

A Man's living in my Garage Dear Dazza...Dear Daz...

When one sublets their garage it's not generally expected that the person renting it will decide to sleep there. Not so in the case of my 'shed renter' Darren. Tonight Darren informed me that he has spent 5 nights sleeping in the garage while between apartments. According to him he even overheard confused utterings from other residents (of the building, not the garage - maybe there are others??) about his phone charging on one of the outlets. Funny that. Daz didn't consider parking his bike in the garage with him in the spirit of being inconspicuous. Oh no, he left that in the drive way area. Too cramped in the garage maybe? The question of "Where did he pee and shower for the five days?" didn't really come up but I do wonder especially he now has a full beard. Let this be a lesson to everyone: Beware of squatters masquerading as subleters!

Vipassna - Now I'm Zen

It's amazing. I survived the 10 days of silence and eating only vegetarian food at Vipassna. (Meditation retreat in the Blue Mountains) The mind definitely wanders to weird places when silent for 10 days. I began creating personalities of my fellow meditators and giving them names. "Pregnant Woman" for obvious reason 8 months pregnant. "Dog Faced Lady" again for obvious reasons and rather unfortunate on her part, "Sniffles," "Breathy" and "Shuffles" because of their habits in the hall. "Holier than thou" because she was dressed in white, sat on a platform. There were loads more and really and since I didn't get to talk to these people it's all I could do.

I managed to witness what I thought was a saucy affair between a young woman "Holier than Thou" and one of the male meditators "shaggy yet mildly hot". She was always draped in a white outfit that was similar to a toga. This one time she was blushing and smiling at "Shaggy" across the room.

So on the 10th day when we were finally able to talk to others I rolled on up and asked her what that scandal was about. Not only did it turn out that this guy was her brother (oops), she is also a nun!

She might be a nun but i'm no saint as soon as I was out on the 11th day I went straight to a fab cafe and had bacon, sausage, eggs. How many rules can I break in one go (Non kosher, non vegetarian, non vegan, and a whole lot of gluten and wheat.) So I guess this whole Vipassna thing didn't really take. Oh well...next!

I Heart NY

After a big day in the big Apple I ventured into SoHo to a little Thai restaurant called "Peep." It was pink and fab and just the right place to sip a well deserved martini. "Yeah, so what" you might say. "everyone's been to SoHo." Very true gentle reader. Well this was no ordinary Thai place.

I get directed to the bathroom that is essentially a mirrored wall with a handle. Hmm, that's slightly weird. The entrance is in the middle of the restaurant. Sucks for those people dining right next to it.I cross through into the looking glass (literally) turn around only to see the entire restaurant laid out in front of me.

The mirrors are two way and you can see everyone eating their dinner. Hence the name "Peep." I found this a little too much. There's a TV in the loo giving off light, I was looking for a light switch in case they were going to turn on and everyone would see me. I had a few moments of wondering if this was an elaborate joke.

Well I really needed to go and it was a rather nerve racking experience. I was looking directly into the eyes of people looking in my direction but not at me. I re-entered the restaurant and no one blinked. Not a single reaction from anyone.

177 Prince St. (SoHo/NoHo/Little Italy) between Thompson and Sullivan Sts.212-254-7337

Model Citizens

Sheena sprung a surprize model shoot on me. During our jaunt across the bridge a pair of very lovely exchange students who naturally asked for a pic with us. It happens to us a lot. Natch. "Ha" they thought "we'll post this across Japan." Suckers...I've posted it across the world! We also managed to share a cab back to the North side with an Irish backpacker. Anyways, this really has nothing to do with my first blog accept that it's a random thing that happened. Requests taken for retelling of famed stories, bribes accepted for leaving out certain pieces of info, and input always welcome.
Jude xoxox

Jude