Brisvegas Bloggers

Word of Mouth Website

2007-11-12T15:12:00.000+10:00

From an email I got today:

We are about to launch a Word Of Mouth Forum blogsite in Brisbane. The venture is jointly owned by Austereo which runs the B105 and MMM stations in Brisbane. The site is all about a community talking to itself, and allows the masses to experience blogging for the first time. It is positioned as the easiest way for people to make a difference in their community.

It is total regionally focused, (in fact has a South and North Brisbane site.) with over 300 categories for people to comment on. You can check it out at www.womf.com.

We are looking for local well connected bloggers to start some viral campaigns and start providing some well written quality blogs. We are hoping you could help. the site is RSS linked and I'm sure once it starts getting heavy promotion on the radio
(January) it will be able to drive readers back to your site.

Why No Travel Books?

2007-03-18T21:58:00.000+10:00

Yesterday afternoon I was out at Chermside shopping centre. I went into Borders and whilst perusing their vast array of books, I thought I'd check out the Tourism section. Of course, as you would expect, their were a number of travel books on Australia, and on Queensland and the Barrier Reef. There was even a whole shelf devoted to Sydney. The thing that struck me, however, was that there wasn't one title on Brisbane. Not one.

Now, I'm not sure if that's the case in all of the book stores around town. Hell, even on Amazon I can find a few outdated travel guides, and they even sell the Gregory's Refedex if you want a street directory. The thing that really gets my goat is that no one is really promoting Brisbane. We seem to be an afterthought in the guides which say come to Queensland and go to the Barrier Reef, or head to Surfer's. Or go to Noosa! Surely we're a big enough country town to have titles in our own right?! Aren't we!

There is a hell of a lot of good stuff to offer. If you want to eat, you've now got some of the best restaurants around, in places like West End, Eagle Street and Caxton Street. You've got great shopping in and around the Queen Street Mall, along with retail meccas at Chermside, Carindale and Indooroopilly. You have all the sport you could want with AFL, Rugby and Cricket. You have parklands a plenty, like South Bank and Roma Street. You have a whole cultural precinct at South Bank to satisfy even the most artsy fartsy of people!

Bands and artists which in the past would have shunned Brisbane, now regularly visit. There's a whole new live music scene which is proving a rich vein of talent internationally. We have the Ekka and Riverfire. Our weather is awesome, and the people are some of the most beautiful and laid back that you'd find anywhere on the planet.

Ok, so I'm ranting now, but I still think we should have more of our promotion going on in bookstores. Then again, who reads books anymore when you've got the Net! Lets just make sure we continue to promote what a fantastic place we live in is.

Cheers, Wes.

Out Of Water

2007-02-04T14:49:00.000+10:00

Is anyone else getting pissed off by the Sunday Mail (et al) reporting wild climactic conditions like it was unexpected? Reporting on the water crisis like it came completely out of left field?

Does anyone else feel a little smug about idiot Toowoombians who voted against recycling water only to then figure out - duh - they don't have any water anymore and will now have to put up with recycling water anyway once it's brought in?

And does anyone else feel guiltily envious about the flooding in North Queensland? You can't help but think "lucky buggers"? I'd gladly take flood damage if it meant a full dam but this is just me talking.

Thanks for the Invite

2007-02-02T23:41:00.000+10:00

Wow, I'm finally on! Thanks Jean for doing the changeover to the new blogger so I could start posting. By way of introduction, I'm another Brisbanite who took up blogging last year. I started off with the experiment of trying to blog on Family Life every day for a whole year. The result was Angry Dad 2006. As a huge Simpson's fan, I wanted to reflect on life as if I was Homer's Angry Dad character, and there were quite a few "Why You Little..." moments with my three boys!

I've also started a blog on all the things that I find interesting around the City. Called I Love Brisbane, the aim again is to do daily posts and photos on things I come across which impress me in this great city we live in. I have to admit that after moving up here seven years ago from Melbourne, I'm pretty well converted.

So thanks for letting me join in the community, and I hope I can add some interesting and thought provoking stuff and comments with the rest of the crew!

Cheers, Wes.

Who said no one cares about Brisbane Bloggers?

2007-02-01T09:44:00.000+10:00

So guys, who said no one cared about Brisbane Bloggers?

I don't know if many of you know this by I run Australian Car Advice & News Blog, pretty much a blog about cars, with the difference being that we actually get given cars to drive and review, pretty good for just a blog.

So when the 2007 Brisbane Motorshow started coming closer, I was interested to see if as a blog, we would get invited to go along as VIPs/Journalists. Getting to go the the motorshow is no big deal, tickets are only $16 for adults anyway, but that was besides the point!

It was a test to see if Bloggers were taken as serious journalists and if all the hard work that I and other bloggers had put into the car site had actually got us some proper recognition, and you know what? To my surprise (yes I was still surprised) we got invited to go along to the journalist day on Friday (2nd Feb).

If you take your blog seriously, it doesn't matter if your in New York or if you're in Brisbane, blogging has come a long way since its early days as dribbles of teenage angst. I think more than ever, cooperations are actually listening to bloggers as they know that traditional media is no longer the way of the future.

Anyway for those of you who love cars, I think this years motorshow is going to be one of the best, I will post a review of it tomorrow night!

admin update: switching to the 'new blogger'

2007-01-29T20:25:00.000+10:00

Hi everyone,

I've just switched my Blogger account over to the 'new' (i.e. exclusively Google account-powered) Blogger, which means this blog has also switched over to the new authentication system.

In order to post to the blog, existing members will need to either:

1. Switch your account over to the new Blogger (by just clicking the link on the Blogger homepage), OR,

2. Email me at jeanjeangenie at gmail dot com to request a new invite. According to the Blogger help pages, this should work for users who don't wish to switch their accounts over.

I had to make the switch because otherwise it would have been impossible for users with existing new Blogger accounts to join, unfortunately.

Merry Christmas BrisVegas

2006-12-24T08:19:00.000+10:00

Merry Christmas all.
Long hot days (cool in the aircon) lots of nice food, ham and turkey with mustard and cranberry sauce, roast chicken and salads - this is Christmas in Brisbane!

Or for the real version of Christmas, remember the reason for the season is the birth of Jesus.

So Merry Christmas from the northside and stay safe on the roads if you have to travel.

The Amazing Body

2006-10-17T09:33:00.000+10:00

haha you thought this would be a saucy post, didn't you?! Pervert.

Brisvegians, this weekend is your last chance to see something truly amazing and really, really, really gross. Basically, it's a win-win.

The Amazing Body exhibition shows us what we look on the inside. Not with diagrams or programs or even holograms but with the real thing. Yes, the Amazing Body is a display of real human bodies, deceased within the last two years, who were plasticised at death. Some are cut in half so we can see the insides, some have had their skin removed so we can see muscles. It's a little macarbe, sure, but that's what makes the viewing so riveting.

I'm going on the last day, this Sunday at the RNA Showgrounds. The exhibition runs in sessions from 10am-3pm I believe, they run every hour on the hour.

UQ St.Lucia: March of the Penguins Engineers

2006-10-13T21:20:00.000+10:00

A while back, there was a minor international sensation caused by an environmental film titled "The March of the Penguins". It became a minor cause celebre, particularly among faux-Christians, who believed it demonstrated that God always dressed for dinner or something.

Well, penguins aren't the only Southern Hemisphere species that teeters on the edge of extinction, and struggles daily against incredible odds and over incredible distances in a climate that is incredibly hostile to life --inimical, even-- in an incredibly incredible life-affirming community-building long-distance trek incredible.

My Lords, Ladies, and Gentlediscouragement, I present to you:

The March of the Engineers

thanks to jgb!

"This is a story of love.
But not just ANY love.
The love of beer."

"Yet what might seem like a 5 minute walk to some,
To the engineer, the walk will seem to take
months.

Yet
They must find alcohol soon,
Or else,
They will die."

That's my old uni, actually. It looks very small and built-up and claustrophobic on this video, but it's actually much more spacious and green in real life.
dunno when they turned the union common room into a pub tho -- used to be the Rec Club about 50 yards to the right of the door, with the balcony looking over the barbie area and the ovals and swimming pool to the river

oh, and the "Ree!" is a reference to The R.E.: The Royal Exchange pub, first and landmark boozer on your way into town, and the standard starting point for uni Pub Crawls

Rock for Refugees

2006-09-20T06:30:00.000+10:00

20th October 2006
A top selection of Brisbane’s finest bands and performing artists will join together at The Globe Theatre on Friday the 20^th of October for a massive night of great music and entertainment – all in aid of a very important cause.

The colossal line up includes local alt-country rock favourites Halfway, Brisbane art-rockers Wipsnade Zoo, urban hip hop artists Indigenous Intruderz, recent NXNE show stoppers The Black Arts and indie-pop maestros The Slides. The night will also feature performances by 'Nerissa' - Australia's number 1 belly dancer, and art/visuals by 'Mindygirl'.This fantastic line up of local talent will be performing to raise much-needed funds and awareness for the Refugee Claimant Support Centre – a Brisbane not-for-profit community organisation that has a vital role in the community by assisting refugee claimants with a number of essential services including emergency accommodation,English language classes, assistance with food, employment and health.

"Rock for Refugees is now in its third year and is shaping up to be a big night on the Brisbane calendar with the Valley punters. Event organiser Eric Robinson says that support from the local live music scene has once again been overwhelming: “Whether you’re interested in issues facing refugee claimants or you just want a top night out in the Valley with your mates, we urge you to come out and support this cause.” Rock for Refugees is officially presented by RAVE magazine.4ZZZ with the support of ACU National, The Big Issue, Brispop.com and Drinksmart*.

Venue – The Globe, (Ann Street, Fortitude Valley)
Doors open – 7.30pm Tickets presale - $10 + BF / $15 on the doorTickets available from Rockinghorse, Skinnys, Butterbeats & www.globetheatre.com.au

For more information on Rock for Refugees please contact Eric Robinson Mob – 0409 566 194 Email – e.robinson@mcauley.acu.edu.au

All that glitters

2006-09-06T16:10:00.000+10:00

Fireworks don't excite me much anymore; a three-hour fireworks display in Japan broke me, I guess. So last Saturday night I was too busy doing my own thing to bother watching Riverfire kick off the River Festival. But these photos of Riverfire taken by Marty Pouwelse are amazing. Hurrah Brisvegas and all who sail in her etc.

Month of Sundays #2: Chalk Hotel

2006-09-04T21:37:00.000+10:00

Chalk Hotel
735 Stanley St
Woolloongabba

Two words spring to mind. Huge, and posey.

We could leave it there, really, but that wouldn't be so much of a review then, would it? So let's press on.

Wandering up to the hotel, we thought it was just a little bar, found a table outside and wondered where all the people were. Then we ventured inside to discover that the place is huge, with staircases and random levels and bars every which way. It all felt a bit space-aged – there’s a lot of glass panels and stainless steel – but also very cool in both senses of the word. I was impressed with the use of space and light inside; less impressed with the layout and slightly excessive number of staircases.

On this Father’s Day afternoon there were a few families in the lower level, along with a whole bunch of flat screens showing a whole bunch of sport. The lowest bar had comfy looking brown leather couch-type things, and put me in mind of a furniture showroom. The unofficial uniform for the dads seemed to be a striped green shirt with beige shorts. You have been warned.

Venturing higher up, we discovered more bars, a DJ playing downtempo and a very pleasant looking veranda with tables and chairs. Unfortunately for us, the tables that weren’t occupied with fashionable young things were reserved, presumably for more fashionable young things. So we retreated back towards the cool inside of the hotel and consoled ourselves with some $3 Coronas. Yes, you read right. Coronas were $3. Less watery beers were a bit more, although not in the realm of expensive. We weren’t able to work out if it was a Sunday special or a promo of some sort, but we were pretty happy either way.

There was food, chips and things done with a bit of a posh twist, although I wouldn’t recommend trying to share the pizza – it looked tasty though. I would have tasted it, but there really wasn’t enough to share. We didn’t look at the restaurant menu, although the restaurant itself looked alright. The staff were pleasant enough, but a little too cool for school at times.

The most entertaining part, to be honest, was watching the young folks parade around and eye each other off. I’ve never been together enough on a Sunday afternoon to doll myself up like it was Saturday night and head off to see and be seen; perhaps some part of my upbringing was lacking. But it’s ok, I don’t think I’m really the Chalk Hotel’s target market. Like the posey kids, a lot of the features seemed to be there just for the sake of being cool. Take the toilets – unisex hand basins might seem funky and edgy, but where are the girls supposed to go to gossip, fix their makeup, and generally talk crap in private? And I hate to think about how many high heels go tripping down those random staircases when the lights go down and the music gets louder.

The verdict:

Relaxing beer on a Sunday? Yes, passably.
On a Saturday night? Not if you paid me.
Recommend to my 18 year old cousin and her giggly gal pals? For sure.

Focus On: Paddington

2006-09-04T13:55:00.000+10:00

One of the problems with living in the city of your birth is that you get lazy with it. You fall into habits of always going to the same places, doing the same things, seeing the same sights. It’s remarkable how little we really do see of our own city. Occasionally, because of one thing or another, you may find yourself in an unfamiliar part of town. The city feels new and fresh again; you almost feel like your on holiday in a different city. You see shops and cafes that you’d love to visit again but you never seem to get around to it.

Well, the ladies in my family finally got sick of this state of affairs. We’re now on a campaign, spearheaded by my mother, to visit and experience all those corners of Brisbane that we never get around to doing. Once a month, every month, we will all get together and experience a place. Browse around, soak in the atmosphere, investigate the shops, delight in the cafes.

Last Saturday was the first of these monthly sojourns and, using the time-honoured tradition of pulling a name out of a hat (or in our case, a dusty glass vase that happened to be handy), we decided on Paddington.

So, where is Paddington? Not the stupid question that some will take it to be. I’m a Western Suburbs girl through and through so places like Indooroopilly, Toowong and, yes, Paddington are no mystery to me (although I’ve never been to Paddington before Saturday). But give me a suburb on the Northside like, oh I don’t know, Wooloowin and I couldn’t find it with a GPS system and tourguide in tow.

So for those readers not familiar with the area, Paddington is an inner-city suburb on the western side of the city, nestled behind Milton and next to Red Hill.

Why visit Paddington? Well, why not? But Paddington is well-known as a trendy area with a myriad of cafes and boutiques. It’s also famed as being one the location of a small number of infamous stores that charge people for browsing the store (one store I heard of charges you $5 if you’re just “having a look”. This may or may not come off any items you may buy).

When you arrive in Paddington you’ll find that parking is a laughable dream that stopped being a reality about a decade ago (at least on Saturdays). The streets are narrow and hilly (note for manual drivers, this is a painful place and brake-starts will have to be your friend) and parking will never be improved because, from what I’ve heard, the locals are resistant to anything that will destroy their little part of suburban paradise. This is an example of the kind of elitism that my sister finds so offensive about Paddington. She has a point but elitism is only uncool if you’re not in the elite.

The area has an interesting and diverse mix of stores that range from modest thrift stores to the self-consciously trendy stores of the glamazon variety. No chain stores here so look elsewhere for Just Jeans.

Some stores of note that I visited and would recommend are Endos, a thrift store that has a gorgeous range of dirt-cheap jewellery (and take a look at the fabulous Mardi Gras costume they have on display); Adornments a store that specialises in second-hand/antique homewares, accessories and ladies clothing and Hula Homewares which will be getting a return visit from me to get their jasmine-scented coconut oil handcream (imported from Tonga – DIVINE).

There were many stores I didn’t go into though. Some (like the creepy faerie store that looked like a cave of doom festooned in saccharinely pink glitter wear) I had no interest in. Others I didn’t feel comfortable entering for fear of having a re-enactment from the Pretty Woman shopping scene. That’s the trouble with trendy places: they’re discerning (or snobby, depends on your perspective). Although, having said that, the place does seem to attract a large number of hippies. I could almost have thought I was in Nimbin, if not for the lack of ganga haze and the Age of Aquarius sign.

TANGENT: Why do all hippies look alike? Why does being a free spirit necessarily equate to tiedye and a bath a year? In this case, hippies are no better (or worse) than emo kids – protesting mainstream conformist culture by strictly adhering to the norms of their sub-culture of choice. Don’t kid yourself, hippies. You’re just as much sheep as the rest of us only you smell more.

Ok, getting back on track. After all the retail therapy, lunch was in order so, on the recommendation of the lady from Adornments we decided to eat at Paddington Café and Flowers on Latrobe Tce. Let me preface this by saying that I am an accommodating customer. I used to waitress in the bad old days so I can sympathise with being overworked, underpaid and not nearly qualified enough to deal with the mentally instable who seem to comprise 90% of your customers.

I do NOT recommend eating at Paddington Café and Flowers. Let me elaborate. The place is a converted Queenslander with a flower shop in the front and the café tucked at the back. It has a lovely verandah with a fantastic view at the back but it’s a tight fit and, if you have a pram and baby in tow (as our party did) you’ll have to sit inside. The inside of the café is quite warm with a tendency towards stuffiness and, when we visited, they didn’t have any fans running (the problem was not the temperature per se as a lack of airflow). Flies were also a problem.

Their entrees were delicious. Their parmesan and pesto ciabatta was gorgeous, as was their garlic bread. Their Mediterranean lasagne was fantastic and I would highly recommend it. Their garlic chicken with potato is bland. Fry up some chicken, boil some potato and slap on a plate and you’ll pretty much have it. They have sauce but barely a trace of garlic is detectable (this may suit some, though, so I’ll keep an open mind about it’s tastiness to the rest of the population).

In fact, the issue with Café Flowers is not their food. It’s their service, which is lacking. We were a party of three plus one small child. We had to do a little rearranging to accommodate the pram which was undoubtedly an inconvenience but it wasn’t insurmountable. It wasn’t until about halfway through our lunch that we noticed that they had a highchair. It would have been highly appreciated if our waitress had mentioned this as it would have saved the 10-minute rearranging to organise the pram (which could have been folded away if we knew about the highchair).

The main meals came out relatively promptly but they were not cleared away. In fact, 10-15 minutes after we had quite obviously finished, we had to literally grab a waitress to order dessert and, 5 minutes after that, she decided to clear them away when she brought over some drinks. 20 minutes after ordering dessert, it still hadn’t arrived. We ordered slices of cake so all they had to do was cut slices from the cakes in the cabinet and bring them out. Why that would take up to 20 minutes, I don’t know (we were sitting right by the counter so they couldn’t have forgotten us since they had to pass us to get to the kitchen). After 20 minutes, we got sick of waiting and decided to leave. Our waitress was consciously polite in that unpleasant “I’m only being polite because I have to, you’re causing me so much trouble and I’m going to spit in your food” kind of way. One thing I will say, though: the Café had made an effort to be child-friendly by providing toys (a really good initiative). It’s a shame their attitude was so poor. And that’s what it really was: lazy service with a poor attitude that made the difference between a great experience and a really ordinary one and changed me into the bitching customer writing this review.

Despite all this, the day was great and Paddington is a great way to spend a Saturday morning. Just don’t eat at Café Flowers ;)

Election fever

2006-09-03T18:01:00.000+10:00

One week to go and there's stalls, booths, buttons and leaflets all over town. Lots of things are happening in the lead-up to the election this Saturday 9 September.

You can check your enrolment status and find out where to vote on the Queensland Electoral Commission website.

If you've already decided who you're going to vote for, that's great. If you're not sure, then there's a whole bunch of ways you can find out information to help you decide.

MikeFitz has mentioned a public debate organised for voters in the Brisbane Central electorate.

6-8pm on Tuesday 5th September
Ithaca Hall, corner Kennedy & Enoggera Terrace, Paddington

All of the parties have their policy platforms on their websites:
Labor
Coalition
Greens

Happy voting!

Flash flood!

2006-08-28T18:25:00.000+10:00

What perfect timing to have the skies suddenly open up and bucket down on the 5pm struggle-home crowd in the city. Buildings turned into waterfalls and streets into rivers. People were ducking and diving about, grinning at the rain and each other as they gave up on any attempt at staying dry. A woman grabbed my arm and shared her umbrella with me. "You look like a drowned rat," she laughed as we waltzed together to shelter.

The bus was full of damp smiling people gazing out the window at the rain like children who have never seen such water fall from the sky. We squelched and dripped the ride home as the downpour slowed to a drizzle and the euphoria faded to a glimmer. I took off my soaked shoes and splashed shamelessly in the puddles the whole way down my street.

Dost Mine Eyes Deceive Me?

2006-08-28T15:17:00.000+10:00

Call me crazy but did it rain last night? Rain, as in precipitation from the sky, the stuff of life, liquid gold... actual water?! Inconceivable!

Month of Sundays #1: Newmarket Hotel

2006-08-27T20:55:00.000+10:00

This is the first in a (possible) series. We've decided to expand our knowledge of Brisvegas by going to a different pub each Sunday (or every few Sundays) for a quiet beer. The choices will be essentially random, with the only criteria being that it must be a pub we've never been to before. You can look forward to plenty of uninformed comment on Brisvegas watering holes. Please feel free to suggest venues, correct misinformation or express alternate opinions in the comments.

Newmarket Hotel
Cnr Enoggera and Newmarket Rds
Newmarket

Risen from the ashes of the old Newmarket Hotel, this pub is perched on a corner overlooking a couple of busy roads and a shopping centre carpark. The $7 million spent on the refurbishment shows - the space is light and airy, with interesting features like the huge stained glass panel behind the bar, big windows and curious light fittings. According to my intrepid Brisvegas local, they've kept the original shell and layout of the old Newmarket Hotel, which is nice to hear as the old girl was first opened in 1879. It's also a bit Tardis-like - from the outside it doesn't look like it could fit a lounge area (complete with folksy-singer-girl-with-guitar), bar area, a restaurant and a gaming room, as well as a generously sized balcony on which to sit and watch the traffic zoom past.

It's not the most atmospheric of places - the six lanes of Newmarket Road just outside certainly do the pub no favours - but clever use of glass, steel and concrete inside help the Newmarket Hotel fit in with the industrial surrounds. They've tempered the steel with plenty of softer textures - think wood laminate and velvet curtains. Although you suspect the decor may date in a couple of years, it looks fresh and clean and adds to the open feel of the place. The bar was crowded; the restaurant was empty when we arrived mid-afternoon and attracted a few wine-drinking couples by the time we left.

Looking into the restaurant from the balcony

Beers were reasonably priced, between $4-$6 for a schooner, with a good range of on-tap and bottled beers. The barman went to extraordinary lengths to get a well-poured schooner after some keg issues, which was amusing as well as appreciated. We ordered a mezze platter to share ($22 for a two-person serve, $30 for three) from a fairly standard pub fare menu. It came out quickly and with minimal fuss. Definitely better than your average pub fare, with delicious bloody mary oyster shots and crisp salt and pepper calamari alongside some other nibbly pieces.

Platter - somewhat diminshed before we could get the picture taken

Also well worth a mention are the lengths taken to make you want to stay and get comfortable. The staff are unobtrusive and pleasant, and there are newspapers, Monopoly and Jenga scattered around the restaurant tables inviting you to settle in for the afternoon.

Did we settle in for the afternoon? No, but there were plenty there who looked like they were going to. And it's on the list for going back to once we've done the rounds of the rest of Brisbane.

What's happening in QLD right now

2006-08-15T17:44:00.000+10:00

Election!

Pete called it today.

Of course, we were all expecting it. I got one of those letters announcing it this morning, along with a whole bunch of other people. I imagine the temp that sent those out a day early got their contract ended.

ABC's running an election site, a forum, and Antony Green gets a look in too.

Ekka Fresh!

2006-08-13T14:12:00.000+10:00

I just returned home to find that my housemate bought me a dagwood dog at the Ekka this morning - with sauce and everything! So I whacked it in the microwave and had my Ekka experience without the entrance fee. $3.80 though - i mean, that's twice what they cost at the uq refectory (and the refec was never cheap, not even when we were paying union fees). Out and about in the city today: You can tell it's show-time by the number of lost cowboys wandering the streets.

My first Ekka

2006-08-10T10:49:00.001+10:00

I'm going to the Ekka this weekend. I've never been before so I'm filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation. I expect fairy floss, and small children, and random crafts.

Now, I'm going twice (don't worry, I'm not some sort of show junkie, I'm being paid to be there), once in the daytime and once in the nighttime. So I'm after tips, memories, thought and stories of the Ekka in years past. What should I definitely do? What should I skip? What traps for new players are there?

Tell me your Ekka secrets, people.

Please?

What's Happening In Brissy Right Now

2006-08-08T11:58:00.000+10:00

Police are searching Brisbane school playgrounds for rat pellets following a contamination threat. Rat pellets were found at Kidsafe in Chermside and a note on a Nundah fusebox threatened that 3 more school sites in the greater Brisbane area had been contaminated in the same way.
Premier Beattie this morning has finally announced a state of water emergency. He can now use special powers to force local councils to get water wise.
Tonight is the Australian census!
Brisbane is gearing up for the annual Ekka (RNA Exhibition), which starts this Thursday. Expect fairy floss and dagwood dog overdoses at your local hospital. Oh and not to mention a shitload of 'flu.
According to the Google search engine, Brisbanites search for the terms "the meaning of life" and "aliens" more than any other inhabitant from any other city in the world.

Hark! Gentlepersons...

2006-08-04T11:46:00.000+10:00

If you've got $15 (or $40 for a family) and nothing better to do this weekend, try the Mediaeval Fayre at Musgrave Park, West End. Lords and ladies will abound. I went their last year and had a great time - highly recommend it (if only for the live jousting - awesome!).

Inside BrisVegas: Food

2006-08-01T11:18:00.000+10:00

I'm going to be provocative and state that Jackpot Noodles in Toowong (45 Sherwood Rd, Toowong, Ph: 3870 0488)) absolutely, completely and forevermore have the best noodles in Brisbane. My personal favourite is their Singapore noodles - for $6 you get what can only be described as a bucket of noodles. Good to share or to have some for dinner and some for lunch the next day (or, if you're eccentric like me, cold for breakfast the next morning). I defy anyone to prove there are better noodles out there! Consider the gauntlet thrown.

But maybe we should also take a broader view. Maybe we should even make this educational. No, don't go yet! This will be fun... I think.

I ask fellow Brisvegians to tell me: where are the best places to eat? I give you the following categories:

Best Noodle Place (my vote is Jackpot Noodles)
Best Thai Place
Best Chinese Place
Best Italian Place
Best Greek Place
Best Australian Place
Best Steak Place
Best Pizza Place
Best Burger Place (no mega food-chains please - that's cheating!)
Best Deli Place
Best Coffee Place
Best Bakery/Patisserie Place
Best Ethnic Place

Have I missed anything?

You should justify your answers! Taste? Value for money? Ambience? You're a shareholder in the restaurant? Speak up, Brisbane!

How does Brisbane compare?

2006-07-17T20:56:00.001+10:00

Being a relocatee, as many people in Brissie seem to be, I thought it would only be fair to allow the places we leave a fair chance to go head-to-head with the River City. I present the inaugural (and possibly only) Brisvegas vs Somewhere Else challenge.

Today we have: Brisbane vs Canberra

Playoffs

* Lake Burley-Griffin vs Brisbane River
The Brisbane River snakes through the heart of Brisbane and looks very purty with the moon rising over it. Lake Burley-Griffin is a glorified puddle full of shopping trolleys and blue-green algae.

Verdict: Upset win by Lake Burley-Griffin in a last-minute penalty shootout following a dodgy call from the ref!

* The Valley vs Garema Place
The Valley has the Zoo, the Rev, Ric's, the Troubadour, the Arena - and that's just for live music.
Garema Place has the Phoenix, and used to have the Gypsy. And those sheep sculptures and the giant cushion.

Verdict: Was it ever in question?

* City vs Mooseheads
The City is full of over-priced pubs and people that want to be seen drinking in over-priced pubs.
Mooseheads is full of ADFA meatheads.

Verdict: A headbutt from a reservist knocks the City out of the game!

* Brisbane winter mornings vs Canberra winter mornings
Brisbane winter mornings: low of 12 degrees, sometimes you need to wear a jacket.
Canberra winter mornings: low of minus 5 degrees, sometimes you can't feel your feet.

Verdict: Scraping ice off the windscreen is for crazy people. Brisvegas all the way.

Semi-final

Lake Burley-Griffin vs the Valley
Lake Burley-Griffin adds some semblance of character to a relatively characterless city and provides something to put bridges over and for people to walk around. In summer, it can be a bit on the nose.
The Valley has markets, Chinatown, buskers and people all over the place on any weekend night and most weeknights. In summer, it can be a bit on the nose.

Verdict: In another controversial decision the Lake scrapes through.

Mooseheads vs Brisbane winter mornings
Mooseheads burnt down without any noticeable difference to the Canberra "scene", and its reopening was heralded by Duntroon boys as a return to heady days of drinking til you can't stand up and pawing girls on the dancefloor.
Brisbane winter mornings: low of 12 degrees, sometimes you need to wear a jacket.

Verdict: Brisbane's strategy is not original, but clearly a winner.

Final
Lake Burley-Griffin vs Brisbane winter mornings
If the wind is blowing the wrong way when Captain Cook's jet goes off and you are driving over Commonwealth Ave bridge, the water that lands on your windscreen is brown and grainy and leaves long smears.
Brisbane winter mornings: low of 12 degrees, sometimes you need to wear a jacket.

Verdict: Do you even need to ask?

With apologies to Our Nation's Capital, life is much sweeter here. Warmer, too.

With thanks to the random guy I borrowed this format off. I'd link to him, but I can't find his blog now.

Howdy, pardners

2006-07-09T20:06:00.000+10:00

Just a quick post to get over that first-post shyness.

Hi, my name is Sherd, and I'm a Brisvegan. I've been a Brisvegan for about half a year. It's been a good half year, and I plan to ramble on about it here on a (semi-)regular basis. I spend a bit of time wandering around the place looking at things, and blogging about the interesting things has become some sort of strange compulsion.

Except for right now, I'm a bit paralysed with the aforementioned first-post shyness, so I might just trail off into silence and shuffle back into the corner...

*trails off*
*shuffles backwards*

Brisbane Pride Festival Rally and Fair on Saturday

2006-06-15T21:12:00.000+10:00

On Saturday June 17 the streets of Brisbane were alive with colour, drums, whistles and the presence of the LGBT Community our families and friends.

King George Square filled with balloons and the buzz of friendships and reunions for the 17th Annual Pride March and Fair Day.I have been covering the event in recent years building up a collection of positive images to challenge the culture of homophobia that still persists in some elements of our city.

Our presence also attracted the attention of a small group of attractive young men who had just graduated from the Christian School for the Promotion of Homophobia.They didn't bring balloons and whistles, just a few mis-spelt placards, some rather tired theology and an alarming passion for gay and lesbian people.We managed to out-shout, out love and out-do them.I wonder if these boys really want Brisbane to be Australia's most livable city?

You can check out my images of the day here. Let me know if you would like higher reesolution copies for publication.

The Brisbane Festival 2006

2006-06-08T12:35:00.000+10:00

Seems like all I am doing here is posting about festivals! I am sorry I even encouraged people to attend the Italian Festival, as it was not only highly dissapointing but the parking and transport was horrible! However, Brisbane City council wants to keep reminding us that The Brisbane Festival is coming up soon! This time I did my research into the Brisbane Festival and found that there was absolutely nothing interesting! At least for me.

However you would be interestead to know that there are tons of plays and performances during the festival which runs from 14 – 30 July 2006. I was however eager enough to ask the organizers to tell me why I (and people my age) should bother going! Unfortunately they haven't replied yet :(

Brisbane Italian Festival 2006 Festitalia

2006-06-02T23:31:00.000+10:00

So we had the Brisbane Paniyiri (Greek) Festival in West End a few weeks ago, and now its time for the Romans to have their own Festival. The Unfortunately named Italian Festival - Festitalia, will be held at New Farm Park this coming Sunday (4th of June) from around 10am, to 7pm. Click for more info on Brisbane Italian Festival. I will be there from 4pm, leave a comment if anyone else from the brisbane blogosphere is going to show up! Apparently 20,000 people are going to be there!

Brisbane Seafood & Wine Festival 2006

2006-04-26T15:53:00.000+10:00

Aw so since I have been complaining about the lack of interesting events in Brisbane. I noticed the Brisbane Seafood & Wine Festival was on again this year at Caxton street on the 30th of April. Anyone going? I am. I have been meaning to go for a few years now, but this year I am actually going to go! From what I heard last year, its not the most exciting event in history, but it can't be that bad. If you do go let me know what you thought!

What todo in Brisbane?

2006-04-19T08:24:00.000+10:00

You know, I have been here for about 15 years now, yep, 15 years of pure brisbaneness. I have learnt one thing in that time. Brisbane isn't the most exciting City in the world. Nonetheless, I have been putting much energy in trying to gather some information in finding out what todo in Brisbane. In my own blog, Living in Brisbane I tried to focus a lot on reviewing Bars, Nightclubs, any venue that I thought people would find interesting. It worked well, I got lots of hits, I even had bars giving me bar tabs to come back and write a more... pleasant review. Nonetheless, I am still somewhat amazed as to how little of an online presence the Brisbane Social / Nightlife Scene really has.

Sure we have ourbrisbane.com and some other sites, but who ever really uses them? I can't for the life of me figure out how to use ourBrisbane.com half the time, its complicated, its too much information crammed into a little tiny space. I am not sure of the age group of the readers and contributors of this blog, so I am not sure if you are an outgoing bunch of 20/30 something year olds, or if you are all married with kids. Nevertheless, am I the only person who feels that way sometimes? That it's hard to find much about our beautiful city online? Before I joined this blog, I wasn't even aware of this many Brisbane Blogs in existence! So what are the resources you guys use to find information about Brisbane?

Site update

2006-04-12T18:48:00.000+10:00

I've been meaning to get rid of the ugly hacked template for a while - it's a leftover from the days when Blogger templates were all hideous. So now we have good old minima instead - hope nobody objects? I also replaced the one-shot flickr badge in the sidebar with a flash one.

Also, if anyone wants to come on board as an admin for this blog, please drop me a line (jeanjeangenie at gmail dot com). I realise I've been a completely slack, bad and evil administrator - stupid PhD - so if you want to help run the blog and/or have nifty ideas for revitalising this space, please let me know.

P.S updating the template also got rid of haloscan comments, of course. Sorry about that. See, I need help....

Merry Bris-mas!

2006-01-03T08:22:00.000+10:00

It occurred to me this afternoon that, since Jesus was a Jew, not only is Christianity a Zionist plot, but yesterday, being the 8th day since his birthday, was the anniversary of him having the end of his penis chopped off.

Bris
a religious ceremony within Judaism that welcomes infant Jewish boys into a covenant between God and the Children of Israel through ritual circumcision performed by a Mohel in the presence of family and friends, followed by a celebratory meal.
Traditionally on the 8th day after birth.
See: South Park's canonical treatment thereof

You can imagine the conversation between Jesus and Dad, can't you?

"c'mon, c'mon, pick up the prayer already... Dad! It's me: Jesus."
"It is you who says that you are."
"I am who I am, Dad."
"So you say."
"Dad, I got a... you gotta minute? I guess I got what you'd call some concerns here."
"'Bout what?"
"See, Mum and this other guy... who IS that guy anyway, Dad? I don't like the way he keeps hanging round Mum. He doesn't... he's not as... well, he keeps being way too friendly with her, a good little Jewish girl like that deserves better. I'd keep an eye on her if I were you. Which I might be, apparently, according to who you talk to.
Well anyway, I'm praying here, enough of the interruptions already.
See they want me to have this bris thing. Only, it sounds... well... well, look, apparently it's something about a deal with you."
"Yes, it is. The bris is the sealing of our covenant. My covenant between, well, me, I guess, and the Children of Israel, or child, really, in this case: you."
"Yeah. That's what they said. Only..."
"Spit it out."
"Don't get me started on THAT part of it! Oi vey. Who thought that one up? I ask you!"
"Well..."
"Rhetorically."
"Oh."
"So anyway, what it sounds like to me, is that I get part of me chopped off, a part of me I really REALLY like, in exchange for-rrrr...."
"For...?"
"That's the non rhetorical part -- you're supposed to fill it in."
"Oh. I didn't know."
"Eh? How is that poss..."
"Movingrightalong. What you get in exchange is that you get to have to always wear a little hat."
"A little hat."
"That's right. Also, you get to be forbidden to eat lots of things. Like shellfish."
"I sure do!"
"Tough. You won't be allowed to eat them."
"No lobster. No crab. No oyster. No..."
"That's right, 90% of tasty seafood is off your list. Then there's ..."
"Hang on, hang on, what DO I get to eat already?"
"Well... there's schmaltz, that's pretty popular."
"Chicken fat."
"Yeah."
"Chicken fat?! THIS is my trade-off for lobster?!"
"Chopped liver and raw onions? Any interest... oh, if you could only see your face right now- it's a picture."
"I'm... So... Look, let's just see if I've got this right, OK?
YOU. Chop off part of my dick.
ME. In return I get to arbitrarily restrict my life in all sorts of ways that had minor health benefits 1,000 years ago before we had an understanding of basic sanitation."
"Pretty much."
"Jesus Christ!"
"That's the Spirit!"
"No, it's me."
"So you say."

originally posted on my site, but liked the Bris-sie pun

Story Bridge: Panorama Photo

2005-10-21T04:37:00.000+10:00

or is it Storey Bridge? i forget.

standing here and looking to the left

Brisbane looks like this at night

I can see a lot more than my house now...

2005-08-06T17:35:00.000+10:00

In a similar vein to the last Brisvegas Bloggers post, I'd like to point you all at a very cool tool based off of google maps technology. Geobloggers is a site that works using flickr (and specially tagged images) and google that can show a map of anywhere in the world, and display any photos taken in the area.

You can an example here - Geoblogged Brisbane. At the moment they're mostly my photos, but I'd love to see any and all Brisbanites with flickr accounts adding their photos as well.

i can see my house from here

2005-06-22T11:10:00.000+10:00

Google Maps - Brisbane Australia. Actually I can also see where I work.

hail photos

2005-05-29T20:31:00.000+10:00

For anyone who is interested there are some hail photos on my blog...
http://cheshrkat.blogspot.com/2005/05/photo-hailstorm.html and http://cheshrkat.blogspot.com/2005/05/photo-hailstorm-2.html

Flickr

2005-04-06T10:07:00.000+10:00

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

SBS Independent Day

2005-03-30T08:43:00.001+10:00

Hi everyone,
Just wanted to draw Brisbanites' attention to this event that's happening on the weekend at the Schonell Theatre, UQ. It's a free screening of a bunch of recent SBSi productions, and there's a Q&A with John Safran at the end. You can even pitch new ideas to the big heads in attendance. Maybe I'll see some of you there?
Mel.

2005-02-20T22:53:00.000+10:00

Wasn't it funny to watch Peter Beattie walking around the city centre with his fleet of body guards? He looked completely out of his element - jumping back and going "whoa!" when some drunk bloke went to shake his hand (to be fair, that clip was aired repeatedly). Before this week I'd never even considered that the CBD was particularly unsafe at night, and suddenly the news is full of hype suggesting Anarchy in Brisbane. An Aboriginal kid who'd heard one too many "paint-sniffing" jokes kicked a guy in the head and then had his face plastered across the Courier Mail. I've had to walk home from the city after work in the wee hours many times and never felt at risk of anything more serious than panhandling. Of course, I am male, 6'4", and sober most of the time. Plus I wear cheap shoes. From all conversations I've had with taxi drivers I had the impression that the suburban nightspots were the places to be avoided. But then, of course the drinking culture is to blame! And how can we tackle that brainteaser? We could further regulate alcohol advertising, or raise alcohol taxes... and risk hurting the massive industry in Queensland. No. You need to shoulder the responsibility yourself.

Anyways... I love this new installation on the side of the QUT Creative Industries building. It's a smiling woman's face with her fingers at the corners of her mouth. The image seems to stretch as you approach it along Kelvin Grove Road.

Brisvegas Bloggers meetup

2005-02-16T22:15:00.000+10:00

There is a bloggers meetup being organised for Friday 25th at Rics Cafe in the Valley at 6PM.
Full details on the meetup website.

photos

2005-02-13T02:00:00.000+10:00

i've posted quite a few brisbane photos lately, thought i'd share... :)

It's got me in its grip

2005-02-10T22:45:00.000+10:00

Back in September, jean, the founder of this fine community blog went and did something that changed my life. She created the Brisbanites group on flickr, which, on a whim, I decided to join. Little did I know what was in store for me.

That group, as well as flickr itself, ignited a passion in me. Photography has now become an important part of my life, and has changed the way I do things. My camera is with me everywhere I go, and I find myself looking at things in different ways. Brisbane has almost been "reborn" in my mind, as I look at things I see everyday and see them in a new light. I become intent on capturing "the moment" and "the spirit". I find myself planning daytrips to various places, thinking of photos I want to take, and elements of the city I want to capture.

Of course, it's more than just Brisbane. Plants, animals, macro photography, builings, cars, whatever, it has all gained new life. Even a simple table becomes and item of wonder when looked at from a new angle.

So, a big and public thanks to jean from me!

Technorati Tags: jean, cyron, photography, brisbane, flickr

Brisbane Webloggers Meetup?

2005-01-13T13:16:00.000+10:00

Just thought i should draw your attention to the Brisbane Webloggers Meetup group...should we all join up and go grogblogging (and show the melbourne blogerati just how it should be done)?

e.g. http://hechoenmexico.blo gspot.com/2005/01/grogblogging-05.html

http://wildyoungunderwhi msy.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_wildyoungund erwhimsy_archive.html#110490647979333982

http://www.ausculture.co m/archives/000905.html

http://isitwrongtowishon spacehardware.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_is itwrongtowishonspacehardware_archive.htm l#110094423566184967

http://robert.redrag.net /2004/11/24/entering-meatspace/

I am a disco dancer...

2004-12-15T20:33:00.000+10:00

Greetings fellow blogmeisters!

As a pretentious/wanky film student who attends Art College, I feel as though it is my civil duty to ignore my educational background and promote something fun and amusing instead (plus, there are cheap drinks for all who read on!)

For those who haven't heard of it before, Trash Video is located on Vulture Street in West End. It is also Australia's largest cult video store. That means that they stock all of those luuuverly flicks that douches like Blockbuster and Video Ezy wouldn't have heard of even if they weren't run by people who only watch flicks starring Ashton Kutcher or Jason Biggs. They even organise videos correctly by genre (i.e. blaxploitation, spaghetti western, etc), so you no longer have to search for something decent in the dreaded 'Art house' section at your local pit of despair.

Trash Video also runs a weekly Film Club at Ric's Cafe in the Valley. On Tuesday nights the good people at Trash serve up a smorgasbord of fine alternative fillums from a diverse range of genres and formats. Next week is the final film club of the year and is bound to be something special:

Bollywood Xmas Party!

When: 7pm Tuesday 21th December
Where: Rics Cafe, Brunswick st. Mall, Fortitude Valley
Cost: $8 (concession)-10

An all-out Bollywood extravaganza marks our final Film Club for the year, and what a way to go out: live Indian dancers, an introduction from BOLLYWOOD DREAMS Chayan Sarkar and the entire feature Disco Dancer (1982), a jaw-droppingly insane kitsch masterpiece made a full FIVE YEARS after the disco craze! Our Hindi hero, clad in a white suit with posters of John Travolta on the wall, discovers being a disco star has its downside - drugs, depravity (Bollywood style), and a vicious kung fu finale with the EVIL Disco Dancer! The annoyingly memorable musical numbers are inspired in their awfulness; theres a Christian disco track ("Jesus, when you gonna save us?"), and even a ripoff of "Video Killed The Radio Star"!!! Join us for the insanity; remember, get there early for a good seat!

*******

Drinks are also very reasonable (a complimentary drink is granted upon entry), the atmosphere is great and I guarantee that your faces will be sore from uncontrollable bouts of laughter. So make sure you strap on your disco platforms, grease yourself up to fit into that old jumpsuit and come along to Film Club next Tuesday night at Ric's. I'll be the drunken chick at the bar wearing a paper bag and black beret...

It's SOOB time again

2004-11-17T18:07:00.000+10:00

People, get along to SOOB ideas between 2nd and 12th Dec - it's free, free, free and features some very cool and interesting speakers, profane ranters and fabulous troublemakers.

flickr geekery

2004-10-30T09:14:00.000+10:00

Check out the sidebar - I figured out a way to display the most recent Brisbanites photo, thanks to the Flickr forums.

Hello

2004-10-21T10:36:00.000+10:00

I'm just writing to say hi to everyone. I am a new Brisvegan and blogger but I am learning quickly thanks to Jean's guidance! Here is one of a few photos I took on the way to work this morning. The city looks beautiful at this time of year. More photos are at flickr. Seeya, Mel.

Precipitation

2004-10-18T10:04:00.000+10:00

Rain! Finally .... rain!

citycat photo...

2004-10-18T01:24:00.000+10:00

citycat photo on my linkblog... won't post here directly since i didn't do a thumbnail :)

sandwiches and elections

2004-10-14T08:49:00.000+10:00

I am finally leaving Subway for greener pastures (and a less purple shirt). Needless to say, the bosses were pissed off, so I've been guilted into working a final shift. If you happen to be in the city this Saturday night, come visit me (opposite casino) during my last stint ever as a sandwich artist (no special discounts). In other Bris-related news, the roma multicultural festival on the weekend was tops - music, dancing, food, and ernie dingo. The Bollywood dancers were a highlight. All was a nice remedy for the tragic Howard victory of the night before... but I won't harp on that.

New Web site and Blog for Spy Journal

2004-10-03T22:20:00.000+10:00

I have moved my Spy Journal Blog to my new web site.
www.spyjournal.biz is the new site and the new personal blog is here.
Please update your links accordingly.

Spring is here - summer is coming

2004-09-27T22:42:00.000+10:00

The lovely purple flowers of the Jacaranda trees are out and that always reminds me it is nearly my birthday and halfway through spring. Summer is coming!
Here is a pic of some from near our place.

Another Brisbane summer

2004-09-27T21:33:00.000+10:00

Summer is coming to Brisvegas . Even at 9.33pm, sitting on my back deck, the breeze gently blowing, there is a mugginess in the air that can only be another Brisbane summer - bearing down on Spring's heals like a weeping and hagged older woman despising an ever beautiful and bouncy younger sister.

I both hate it and love it. My currently bare and quite pitifully-looking Frangipani tree is looking forward to it. Are you?

Test moblog post

2004-09-26T14:15:00.000+10:00

Well, well, well. You can also post to any blog from flickr. You can either do this using the web interface, or by sending an image to an email address linked to your blog. This lame shot of a letterbox was sent as a picture (MMS) message directly from my phone to brisvegas bloggers.

calling all mobloggers and flickr-philes

2004-09-25T13:46:00.000+10:00

I've started a photosharing group called Brisbanites at flickr, which is a cool photosharing/photoblogging tool and online community.

It would be nifty if we could get some members and start aggregating visual impressions of Brisbane, snaps of suburbia, or snippets of our cereal-munching everyday lives. so if you have digital camera or cameraphone or polaroids and a scanner, consider joining up. And of course you don't have to be a member of this blog! (But if you'd like to be a member of this blog, let me know.

The next step will be to work out a groovy way of using flickr's blog integrated functionality here. I'm thinking that the banner could be replaced by a row of flickr badges, which would dynamically update each time a new photo was uploaded by a member of the group. Or something. Clever hacks and creative ideas welcomed most graciously.

The writers are in town

2004-09-21T20:23:00.000+10:00

Brisbane Writer's Festival

27th September - 3rd October 2004
Cultural Forecourt, South Bank and QPAC

So many authors... so little time.

More info over at the Official Brisvegas Writers Fest site.

RIP Johnny Ramone

2004-09-16T19:04:00.000+10:00

It is indeed a sad day.

The Ramones were one of the first bands I saw live way back in the day. It was at the old Festival Hall and I was about 14 or 15. It was their last Brisbane tour. The energy produced on the floor that night was magical and Festival Hall took it's place as my favourite venue. Tommy is the only one still standing but Joey will always be my favourite.

Readlaser - your head's being read!

2004-09-09T13:59:00.000+10:00

Has anyone else seen this guy standing at busy CBD crossings with his back to the street - "YahooID: readlaser - YOUR HEAD'S BEING READ!" on a sign stapled to his jacket....? Wild fuzzy grey hair under a grubby cap... I'm searching Yahoo, and I can't find anything under "readlaser". I mean, if you're going to stand on a street corner promoting spurious conspiracy theories, at least refer people to a valid internet source. It's just frustrating otherwise.

http://www.users.bigpond.net.au/cracks/sketches/crazies.jpg

It's about...

2004-09-06T14:50:00.000+10:00

A man... no no, wait, that's too cliché… they'd be expecting it.

Uhhh... it's about a woman. She's carrying a bag of oranges... no, make that a single orange... we're supposedly trying to eradicate plastic bag usage here.

Anyway, the orange sores silently from her delicate fingers and traces the edge of the building above. She watches on, open palm ready to catch the orange as gravity takes force.

The orange lands with a graceful thud and she casually rolls it towards her fingers. As she rocks the wrinkled surface across her palm, she glances at a sea of people before her. Their faces are stern and seemingly riddled with purpose, yet she cannot help but think that they have no goal or purpose within the busy mall. The orange rolls dangerously close to the edge of an index finger.

She grabs at it in mid-plummet. A hand reaches for her heart, willing for the shock to pass. It thumps wholeheartedly in reply. She reclines on the bench and checks her watch again. Five forty-five in the afternoon and another orange is yet to grace the mall with its presence.

Hours pass as her thumb penetrates the orange's surface. A small gasp escapes her lips in surprise and mock horror. Behind her, a wave of happy chatter mixes with the crash of Jay Jay’s closing door. The mall becomes diluted as darkness slowly deters prospective shoppers.

She begins to ponder her life, existence and whether or not she forgot to turn the iron off before she left. A sarcastic crease to the corner of her mouth dismisses such inanities as she remembers an early morning SMS message:

Happy birthday to you!! :) Hope the office treated you accordingly :) Meet up after work? We've got to talk. Remember to bring an orange... I’ll bring one too. ;)

She got the joke... a nice reference to their introduction outside the Juice Station. He spilt orange juice on her new work shirt...

The bastard didn’t even foot the bill for the drycleaner she reflects petulantly.

She rises and storms down the mall trying to focus on the love. Yet, public displays of affection spawn from teenage couples only digs at her hurt. She sets her sights on an alluring garbage bin.

The bin swallows the orange peels that fall from her juice-stained fingers. Like so many bad memories, the pulp clings between her nails in irritation. Orange flesh follows the peelings into the bin with a conclusive thud. Apathetic, she continues towards Adelaide St, her eyes devoid of purpose.

A man dressed in a new white work shirt naively waits outside a deserted Juice Station, only metres away from the woman’s deserted bench. He edgily rolls an orange velvet ring box in his palm as he checks his watch again. Darkness swallows the city skyline and the man wonders if his girlfriend received the second part of his morning SMS:

Meet outside the Juice Station… have *important* question to ask you :)

Garn

2004-08-23T10:27:00.001+10:00

In the interests of global harmony and the reduction of inter-cultural frictions caused by misunderstandings and the common lack of shared knowledge and awareness of differing social and cultural morés, I ~~will purge the earth of all nonbelievers~~ offer the following insight into the mindset of your Australian brethren, and a jumpstart in everyone's earnest studies of the esoterica of Strine.

"Strine," there, may need some explanation.

Tough.

So, I...

Ow!

Oh, all right. OK.
OK.

I said OK! Stop your bloody whining. You sound like a girl.

"Strine" is "English as she is spoke" in Australia. To understand its etymology, you should ideally be three sheets to the wind and laughing fit to bust a gut, as in fact these are ideal conditions for almost any situation in life. So while you're attending to that, I'll get on with a bit of background fleshingouty stuff and you can come back to me in your own time.

The term "Strine" is the fiction of an English journalist, as are, sadly, most things desperately touted by Sydney as True-Blue Australianisms or Traditions/Facts. E.g. "Waltzing Matilda," "They're a Queer Mob," "Songlines," "Sheila," and so on. Some of them, though, struck a chord with the Australians and were remorselessly adopted.

Actually, "adopted" might be too restrained a word there. It might be more accurate to say these concepts were "kidnapped by a pack of laughing lunatics and driven at speed to places and purposes and lifestyles and contexts literally undreamed of by their puling limited spawners, now forgotten by said concept as essentially irrelevant to their current life." Heartless little bastards that they are, those concepts. ALL concepts. My advice: never have a concept. You'll get no thanks for it, and will suffer only heartache and loss.
*Strikes noble distance-gazing pose with air of ineffable sadness alloyed by dutious self-sacrificial striving upwards ever upwards*
*pauses to recover as that's quite a pose(r)*

Waltzing Matilda for example is the only song any Australian will acknowledge as national anthem. You might think various features of the song would argue against this. The music's nicked from an old Irish folktune; the lyrics were written by an essentially English poet as part of a points-scoring exercise in a public shitfight with another essentially English poet; neither writer ever got far out of Sydney but both sought street cred by one-upping each other in terms of just how much more THEY loved the virtues of the stolid real bush-living Aussie battler; and in fine Marx-vs-Engels fashion neither writer would EVER be seen to associate in public with said cherished and lauded and squabbled-over battlers.

But in shruggingly pragmatic fashion (we don't care where you came from, we care what you do), this is happily ignored by all Australians as not terribly relevant to what's important in a song:

it's got a guy having a cup of tea
he eats a sheep
he's out in the bush somewhere
he's a loser

Fantastic.

It really just doesn't get much better than that as far as we're concerned.

You know, an ambition I've had grow over the last year or so, is to become the world's fastest motorcycle racer just so's I could stand on the podium and as they play the winner's (me) (Australian) (a winner) national anthem, the $20 and special custom mix-tape I'd've slipped the guy in charge of the P.A. earlier would kick in and "Advance Australia Fair" would squawk and rip then "Waltzing Matilda" would roar out over the crowd, who, actually recognising the song --OK I've clearly here just quickly switched to only talking about the Aussies in the crowd-- would laugh and cheer and roar it back for more verses than the tape had. And, probably, throw a few inflatable kangaroos. And things. While falling over. And scaring the Italians.

For those becoming confused, I'm still talking about the Aussies in the crowd. Just in case that wasn't fairly obvious. And, really, if it wasn't, you might want to consider another website. This one may not be for you.
Just a thought.
You should try to have them, just every so often, they're good for you. Doctors recommend, etc.

So this English author was on this book tour in Oz, right, signing books in a suburban bookshop somewhere, when the next woman in line handed him his book and when he looked up askance for the name to whom he should make out his imprimatur, she replied "Emma Chizzet." He duly wrote "To Emma Chizzet" and signed his name with a flourish and handed back the book to the woman. She stood dumbfounded for a moment then looked at him like the lunatic he'd so neatly proved himself to be and repeated, clearly and carefully and precisely for the poor slow dim Englishman, "No-ooo... Emma Chizzet?"

How much is it?

It was at this point he realised Australians have actually created not so much a dialect ("Ex-ter-min-ate! Exterminate!") (ah, sweet memories of childhood) so much as a separate language. Its name is "Australian" or, as we say it, with our voice box placed firmly in the bridge of the nose, the lips clamped stiff and unmoving a tenth of an inch apart, and an ABSOLUTE MINIMUM of movement or effort in terms of tongue or mouth or vocal chords or mind: "'Strine."

If you can't get it, try saying "australian" faster and faster and faster, until the "L" starts to disappear and it sounds like "strain." There ya go. Good onya. Not hard, was it. Now whack it up in your nose and get 90% of the effort into the first micro-second, and then trail off suddenly in case something else comes up that you need to turn your attention to that you'd like to be able to attend to without seriously compromising the essence of your communication so far.

"Strine."

Welcome to Australia, mate, here's your complimentary fly.
Hell, have two.

Various words collapse variously in similar manner. The essence of Strine is that any word can get cut off mid-way by any one of a range of intervening emergencies without seriously compromising oh wait I already said that. These circumstances can indicatively include:

nuclear war
someone lunging for the last beer in the esky
pretty sure these are not in the right order
someone interrupting with something useful to say
losing interest 'cos it's too bloody hot

General patterns include:

any word, regardless of length, can be "contracted" by putting "o" after the first syllable and eliminating the remainder. This includes the splendid shrinking of "Dave" to "Dave-o".
complementary and free fly to the preceding rule is that any word which ends in a vowel --OK, this should not be regarded so much as "complementary" as overriding-- --oh shut your hole. we'll be consistent when we bloody feel like it-- will have an "ee" sound chucked on the end by way of shrinkification. Thus: "Blue Heeler" becomes "Bluie," "Reggie" becomes "Reggie," "Blowfly" becomes "Blowie."
short is good
short is god

And there you have it. Historical etymology buffs keen on the various processes of pronunciation's smearings for speed over the centuries, will find to their delight that approximately 4,000 years of the patterns seen in ancient chinese and hindo-european can be found in about 150 years of Strine.

Short is god.

Now, for further understanding of traditional Strine, you need to realise that we swear. A lot. Really, a lot. You don't realise just quite how much you fucking swear until you get outside Australia. Wharf-workers and fish-wives quite capable of turning the air blue for 20 paces come over all faint when approached by an Australian grandmother seeking directions. Australian teenagers require a licence to speak in most countries, 4 year olds can kill a bishop at close range, and our drunken sailors are banned under the Geneva Convention.

But it's not all good. Certain loathsome elements, alas, do exist within the Australian kulcha. These are loathed, yet, as in any society globally, they are an ever present concern. To help identify these people, in the day-to-day struggle against such parasitic slime, jobs are found for them in politics and the celebrity media.

They thus form a valid and visible target for jokes. This is not something we're proud of. But, we are not alone in subjecting a small percentage of our population to derision. Other cultures have Irish jokes (England), or Polish jokes (America), or Östi jokes (Germany), or jokes basically about any nearby subset of human beings who weren't here at one point but are now and therefore must be stupid. The logical implication of this thought process never seems to occur to any incumbent population group.
Oh, wait...

One thing Australians ARE proud of, is that we only victimise people who bloody deserve it.

"So, an Australian walks into this bar, right.
And the barman says, 'Is this some kind of joke?' "

An e-friend of mine has recently had the misfortune to come into contact with a group of Australians. Fortunately, her vaccinations have held up, but she is struggling with certain features of their conversation.

"What is arvo, anyways? Matt says it all the time."
"arvo=afternoon"
"how the hell did AFTERNOON become arv-o?"
"F takes you a lot longer to say than V and is vaguer/less susceptible to volume control. same lip movement, roughly the same sound, less effort, better result -- all this adds up via parsimony or "enlightened laziness" as we prefer, to saying arvo not arfo.

also, you sound less like a stupid dog."

She was having particular trouble with "Garn." After a few abortive coping attempts left her with a best effort of "Guam" she sought pharmaceutical help, and once that had worn off asked the experts.

"Garn" is half a sentence, in the same sense that "Tease" is a half a word. It can be separately used, as can Tease, as a quiet calm reference to the whole, but the full sentence, to be uttered for full effect with the head thrown back and mouth agape half-challenging half-grinning, is:

"Garn get fucked."

The more astute among you (g'day) will immediately grasp that "Garn" is short for "Go on," yet has the advantage that, as a single syllable, it can be indefinitely drawn out and/or shouted without needing to worry about which of its various components to emphasise, if any. One in, all in. Essence of Aussie life, essence of Aussie speech.

"Garn, get fucked."

Ah, those happy days of childhood.

She found Garn quite appealing.

So I suggested then that she ask her Aussie friends to explain another word ("Hey! What's's spos-ta-m'n mate?") which doesn't really exist, other than as a self-conscious pisstake on ourselves: "Smee."

But maybe that joke didn't get outside Queensland. Those friends of hers: they knew it not. Drew a blank. Or, as we'd say, "NFI, mate." Maybe they just needed to be in the correct context to remember it: late late late on the tail-end of a small party at a mate's house, with happily drunk friends who've got to the point of trading crap jokes.

So it was just an old joke, right? And this is how it goes:

There's this TV show where contestants have to think up a brand new word, prove that it's brand new and not used anywhere else ever before, then use it in a sentence to show how you use it and why it's a good word. Right?
So. They're doing this show. And a guy in the audience shoves his hand up and goes "Ooh! Ooh! Pick me, pick me! I've got a great word!"

So they haul him down the front and ask him how he's doing and is he having a nice night and what does he think of the show and is his grandmother ok that's nice, and what's his word?

"Garn!" he pronounces, with a simple happy confidence.

"And can you spell it please?"

"G.
  A.
  R.
  N.

Garn!"

"Garn!?" cries the presenter, "I don't know that one! Let's check!" and off they go and they look it up in all their books and consult their researchers and there's a general shaking of heads and a widespread upping of thumbs and "Well done! No one knows anything about this word: show us how to use it in a sentence!"

And the little man throws back his head with a big happy smile and cries "Garn get fucked!"

Horror! Calamity! And amidst much noise he's picked up and thrown out of the studio.
...
Some weeks go by.
...
So they're filming another show, right? And a guy in the audience with a moustache shoves his hand up and goes "Ooh! Ooh! Pick me, pick me! I've got a great word!"

So they haul him down the front and congratulate him on his great moustache and ask him how he's doing and is he having a nice night and what does he think of the show and is his grandmother ok that's nice, and what's his word?

"Smee!" he pronounces, with a simple happy moustachiod confidence.

"And can you spell it please?"

"S.
  M.
  E.
  E.

Smee!"

"Smee!?" cries the presenter, "I don't know that one! Let's check!" and off they go and they look it up in all their books and consult their researchers and there's a general shaking of heads and a widespread upping of thumbs and "Well done! No one knows anything about this word: show us how to use it in a sentence!"

And the little man rips off his fake moustache (fake! can you believe it?), throws back his head with a big happy smile, and cries:
"Smee again!!

Garn get fucked!!"

....

Yeh, all right.

cross-posted: saltation and brisvegas bloggers

Brisvegas Blogger's Birthday

2004-08-14T19:12:00.000+10:00

In a usually quiet backstreet in West End a Brisvegas Blogger, me, is having a birthday party on Saturday, August 21 & would like to invite other Brisvegas Bloggers to attend. If you would like to come along hit pedro.Net.au & click an email link to contact me about it. I'll also have a web cam on the party so people who can't come along can look in. Hit pedro.Net.au on the night to find it.

London vs. Brisbane: Weather

2004-08-08T01:52:00.000+10:00

The last time I was in Brisbane it rained very heavily, even by Brisbane standards. The week after I left, Brisbane received 4 metres of rain. For the more primitive among you, that's around 12 feet, or 1.5 residential storeys.

I just saw an extra titbit re London's incredible torrential downpour on Tuesday, which caused tremendous flooding and forced an emergency venting of 650,000 tonnes of raw effluent from the sewerage system directly into the Thames upstream of the City.

London received 42mm of rain.

It's a wonder any of us are still alive.

Brisbane SummerorI Still Get Sweat In My Eyes

2004-08-05T23:38:00.000+10:00

Air so thick with water your temperature changes as you breathe, curtains of rain drawn crisp and sharp round the edges of the verandah, and over the drumming of rain on the roof, the lightning cracking and rolling overhead, drowning out unshouted conversation for an hour or more. Sit on the matilda chair with a chilled beer drenched in condensation and just live it.

Gangajang marked the moment, and the moment stamps the soul.

Throw your head back and listen with your eyes on the horizon;
you'll be back there again anywhen that song plays.

Out on the patio we'd sit,
And the humidity we'd breathe,
We'd watch the lightning ... crack over canefields
Laugh and think, this is Australia.

"Sounds of Then"
Gangajang

prompted by a friend's post
crossposted: saltation & brisvegas bloggers

trenchcoat day

2004-06-20T23:20:00.000+10:00

i reached this year's trenchcoat day last week (thursday). hurrah for winter! ...such as it is in brisbane, anyway.

Hidilly Ho Neighbourinos!

2004-05-31T22:49:00.000+10:00

Hey there everyone,

I'm the newest addition to this collection of Brisbane based bloggers. My name is Cyron Ray. I live in Tarragindi with my girlfriend. If you're familiar with Whirlpool, you'll probably know me as Ray Macey, one of the moderators of the site.

I'm 28 years old, and have been living in Brisbane for nearly 10 years now, though it still feels like I've only been here for a short while. Prior to that I was from Hervey Bay, and prior to that from Narrabri in New South Wales. I've actually moved more times than I have years of age however as I appear to have inherited the involuntary travel bug from my mother.

My blog can be found at cyron.id.au. The site is the continuation of a livejournal I started back in September 2002, and has been running for almost two months.

In any case, thanks for having me :)

Draining in Brisbane

2004-05-10T14:19:00.000+10:00

Brisbane is in a subtropical area, and the main city is built on the banks of the Brisbane River. These two factors combine to require the city engineers to construct large stormwater drains. These drains make excellent caving (speleology) or draining expeditions.
The secret places of a city are often the most interesting.

Creek St runs down through the city from Spring Hill to the River. Its name comes from the creek that it now covers. Thus there is a tunnel underneath the street that permits the water flowing from the spring to the river. This tunnel is a double red brick oval tunnel, with the water actually wearing away the first layer of bricks in the bottom. Entrance can be obtained at low tide (the river is tidal for several kilometres) from below the Rowers nightclub building. You will get wet getting into the tunnel. About waist deep at low tide for the first 20 metres or so. After that the water is no more than a trickle in the bottom. This tunnel has lots of overhead obstructions that HURT your head when you hit them. Pipes and concrete overcasts mostly. There are also plenty of manholes, but be careful with these as they are in the middle of a busy street! After several hundred metres it opens up into a room where you have 3 tunnels to choose from. One is reached by climbing up a ladder and heads off to the Myer Centre. You can get into the underground carpark / bus area from here. The second continues up creek street and then angles off down Adelaide St. We pushed up a manhole cover and emerged in front of the fountain on the footpath out the front of King George Square - much to the delight of onlookers (at about 3am they are all mostly drunk anyway so who cares). We haven't been up the third tunnel yet - it may head on up the hill.

Another tunnel well worth exploring is to be found down by the kangaroo point cliffs park. From the river (via boat) this is an obvious entrance but from land is a bit harder to find. It is just east of the captain cook bridge. Once again entrance needs to be obtained at low or medium tide and involves getting wet the first 20-30 metres. This is a natural rock tunnel carved under the cliffs for some 100 metres or so. Then it suddenly turns into a gigantic concrete round tunnel. You could drive a small truck up this tunnel - it is huge! At one point we climbed a very high manhole ladder up and up and up til we pushed out the manhole and found we were in a grassy piece in the middle of the Vulture St/ F3 Freeway interchange. Back down we continued up the tunnel. Exploring a side tunnel we found a large amount of money and other stuff that had fallen down drains by simply digging in the muck at the bottom of the tunnel. This side tunnel was eventually blocked by a bridge or building piling that had been driven right through the tunnel, leaving only a small gap for water to flow through!
We continued up the main tunnel for more than a kilometre eventually calling it quits for walking and climbing out a manhole in a street in Annerley. Next time we take pushbikes or skateboards I think!

40 Days of Purpose

2004-05-04T23:22:00.000+10:00

I keep reading this page and intending to blog but haven't had time to do something funny or even very creative.
I have enjoyed others contributions though.
I want to just take this short post as a chance to invite you all (especially northern Brisbane dwellers) to check out the web site I developed for my church recently - Rivers Baptist.
Over the next 8 weeks (beginning mothers day) we are entering into a spiritual journey with the community exploring what our purpose here on earth is. Feel free to check out the site and if you are in the Pine Shire (or even if not) feel free to drop by the church and check it out. Its probably not like you think!

we love blogger...

2004-04-03T09:23:00.000+10:00

but for some reason it lost the last 5 lines of code in the template...sorry I only just noticed it. All better now - you tech-heads may feel free to view source and check my work.

Diasporadic

2004-04-03T04:58:00.000+10:00

Greetings O BrisBloggers! I speek to thee via the great horn of the internet, on which so many shits have founded in their quest for the west via eastcpip. Lo! (prices) tho once yea verily and smitily was I once once one of youse, now has I thrown off the grammar of yesteryear and travelled via plane of econ.fare to the plane of aircon -- great granmar Europa, where the entire countryside has been fully airconditioned for your convenience and frostbite.

No sanity shall I waste, none of mine anyway, but shall immediately proceed to the end.

The End (part 2)

Once champion of the Indooroopilly Station Road Manned/Girled/Wimmined/JenerallyGockeyed Wheelybin Races, and chief deputy nonculprit of the 60 Foot WheelsFellOff Green Scrapemark which shall remain forever Amusing, I reside now in the surreal town of England surrounded by Victoriana and Filth yet have been invited onto your proud Roll as London Correspondent, in a bid to make you all feel better about your own lifestyles and taste.

News at Ten

  Film at Eleven

    Virgin at Twelve (twice)

      Useless before Breakfast

        Drinking since Then

          Stay Tuned...

from the library with love

2004-03-27T10:34:00.000+10:00

here i am in one of the UQ e-zones, having left the apartment and the chain-smoking flatmate for the day, in search of an environment more conducive to boring-arsed neuroscience report writing. and i may have found it. although, granted, it's not hard to beat my home study space - wedged between a construction site, a main road, and Channel 10 in surround sound. ne'ertheless, i have work to do...

i fear for this city

2004-03-27T00:45:00.000+10:00

so tomorrow we vote.

If you've been relying on the media to inform you of your choices, you'd be forgiven for thinking that there are only two candidates for Mayor, or perhaps three if you caught the ironic mention in the Sunday Mail of the difficulty the Greens candidate has getting media coverage.

Actually, there are six candidates for Mayor. There'd be seven if the porn star hadn't stuffed up her electoral enrolment. If you want to at least know their names; go to Brisbane City Council - Election 2004 - Candidate information.

i experienced the joy of a survey the other night; asking my views on Tim Quinn and Campbell Newman. the "do you like these candidates" question was easy; the "who will you vote for" question wasn't. sadly Tamara Tonite isn't running so I have nobody to vote for. but that's trivial compared with the fact that i think both of the most likely candidates are a bad option for our city... but one of them is going to be running the place for the next few years.

yikes.

32 Degrees in the shade

2004-03-18T00:36:00.000+10:00

Queensland is one gigantic hothouse.
Brisbane is the hub of that. It is steamy and humid. I am a kiwi by origin and I've been here nearly 11 years and I still find it sticky. I love the weather but I hate the humidity.
I am starting to get used to it slightly though.

The worst part about the humidity is the sweat. I sweat easily and lots so walking anywhere in a business suit in Brisbane during the day turns me into a wet shirted uncomfortable person.

The weather though is perfect. 9 days out of 10 it is beautiful weather and the 10th day it is perfect. Even the rain is nice (most of the time.) The rain is warm and fast and heavy. It can be sunny one minute and belting down a topical shower of enough intensity to strip leaves off trees and paint of rooves (not quite) and 5-10 minutes later be sunny again. This is a fairly infrequent thing however. I compare to New Zealand where it might rain for 5-8 days almost non stop. Here it might rain continuously at most for 1-2 days. And that's a long wet period!
We recently had 3 weeks of rain most days for an hour or so a day and that is the wettest I have ever seen it here.

The heat is nice. Most times the temperature is around 27-35 degrees C summer and 21-29 C in winter.

I love Brisbane!

Brisneyland

2004-03-14T19:41:00.000+10:00

The Cube Collective invites contributions from young and emerging artists and anyone and everyone with something to say about Brisbane.

Respond to any one of the following questions:

1. Your quintessential Brisbane experience?

2. 32 degrees in the shade?

3. All my friends are leaving Brisbane?

Contributions can be made in any medium: text, photography, visual arts, graphic design, cartoons, animation, video, or any art form that can be represented in hard copy or CD-Rom form. Each contribution must address one question and multimedia entries are encouraged.

Get creative, kiddies! :-)

2004-03-13T20:40:00.000+10:00

Struggling with the unfamiliar challenges of budget management, I've found myself three times in the past week down in the Broadway Food Court, making cheap dinners out of late-afternoon marked-down lunch leftovers. I know it's not the best way to eat... but really, I couldn't make a pizza for two dollars...

2004-03-11T20:38:00.000+10:00

Hello. I am new to Brisbane... but I have noticed that most people seem to be new to Brisbane. That is, that rarely do you meet someone who has lived here their whole life - it appears to me a most transient city - fluidly populated. I suppose that coming from the rough-tough streets of South-West Sydney (famous for its gang-rapes, dodgy hospitals, and Mark Latham) - where low-income housing forms the enclosure for our shameful working class - anywhere will look dynamic by comparison. And then, I base this observation on a handful of chance conversations with fellow students. But it was surprising to find everyone complaining about the Summer heat. I would have thought that some of the more long-term inhabitants would be used to living in a sauna by now. Still, the bright lights of Bris Vegas have drawn me in - is there a seedy underbelly I am yet to discover? Ooh... Meanwhile, look for me riding along the bicentennial bikeway in long black (work) pants: drenched in sweat.

Ecogeek

2004-03-09T12:25:00.000+10:00

Speaking of Commodore 64s, this is the funky junk sculpture that adorns the door of eco geek, the dead-computer-fixer-uppers at reverse garbage in West End, where as well as a $50 working computer, you can get foam, doorknobs, fabric bits, interesting wood and lots of other repurposed junk stuff. And they have a bike shop too.

BrisBurbanBanner

2004-03-09T10:45:00.000+10:00

I thought it was time for a change of banner. While the old one (still accessible here) celebrated Brisbane's burgeoning night-time economy, this time it's a celebration of the suburbs - which is where most of us live, after all.

Feel free to make new ones and email them to brisvegasbloggers{at}hotmail{dot}com so I can rotate the eye candy more frequently.

brisvegas public transport: using cutting edge technology!

2004-03-01T15:29:00.000+10:00

Gallery: Commodore 64 is Alive! - Analogik, Brisbane, Australia. We probably shouldn't complain, since that particular system isn't so bad. The real problem is the fact the buses don't actually turn up when they're supposed to. That, along with the high price, slow service, psychotic drivers and unairconditioned rattlers which tend to catch fire.

Hello Purvis. Hello Richard, how was your day? Purvis, it was moderately fucked by ten.

2004-02-19T18:40:00.000+10:00

Anni reviews Philip Dean's Zigzag Street, adapted from the novel by Nick Earls.

I can't help but feel a tad like an animated Nick Earls voice over in one of Brisbane Marketing's advertisements about the city's vibrant hotspots when I speak about the utter brilliance that is the La Boite Theatre Company's performance of Zigzag Street.

Hearing about the Australian-wide tour of the show from the official Nick Earls website in early January, I was quick to snap up a ticket for the second preview performance on Wednesday the 18th of February at the new (and very impressive) Roundhouse Theatre Complex.

The last time that I had been in the vicinity of Kelvin Grove's new (QUT) Creative Industries Precinct was in late October (when I was thrown into the desperate throngs of (almost) late assignment delivery...a disastrous tale which shall probably keep for another time). At this time, the new facilities were underdeveloped and I couldn't help but think to myself, where do they keep the giant triceratops crane during smokos? Yes, the new 'Urban Village'was nothing more than a few bits of metal and rock. I was starting to worry about what the New Year was to bring to my university days.

However, I was pleasantly surprised with what I saw yesterday. The new precinct is a very large, aesthetically pleasing array of buildings, which only add to the Queensland University of Technology's upbeat image revamp in the last few years. To those who attend the Kelvin Grove campus, it also appears that there are now more car parks...so stop creating pileups on various grassy knolls!

Situated in the heart of the precinct is the Roundhouse Theatre, the new home of La Boite, one of Australia's oldest and continually operating theatre companies. To celebrate the company's relocation from now heritage listed box-like house on Sexton Street, La Boite has commenced a complete season of new plays by Queensland resident writers.

Zigzag Street is the story of twenty-eight year old Richard Derrington, who is currently single and living in the house that his grandparent's built on Zigzag Street, in the Brisbane suburb of Red Hill.

Richard is more single then he'd like to be. More single that he expected to be. Since Anna trashed him six months ago he's been trying to get his life together, despite the fact that chaos reigns supreme.

In between receiving bad but well-meaning advice from his friend Jeff, taking the toaster apart to find out exactly what is giving the toast a slightly odd taste, and explaining his girlfriend's absence to the local Thai takeaway store, Richard's life takes a number of twists and turns as he ambles back on track.

Zigzag Street is a story about rumination, chaos, poor judgment, interpersonal clumsiness and Richard's discovery that hope isn't such an overly-optimistic emotion after all.

Dean's adaptation is impressive, as the plot remains true to Earl's critically acclaimed novel. Little of the original narrative is altered, with a clever use of combining events into character tete-a-tete and witty monologues by the loveable protagonist Richard, who is portrayed superbly by La Boite newcomer Mark Conaghan. Conaghan's performance starts as a slow and pitiful lament to single life, yet he manages to capture the audience's imaginations and heartstrings well before the second act. I will no doubt picture Mark Conaghan's Richard the next time that I am reading the novel.

Another performance of note would have to be the efforts of Yalin Ozucelik (who also appeared in Dean's adaptation of Earl's After January), who plays Jeff, Richard's mate and fellow gossiper over coffee. Ozucelik also plays Greg, the red-headed eccentric animal veterinarian who was loved by Richard's deceased grandmother (she named her temperamental cat after him). Ozucelik and Conaghan bounce off each other like a couple of mates who have known each other since they were knee high to a grasshopper.

Performances by Melissa McMahon (Rachel) and Cara McIlveen (Deb/Girl/Renee) are also impressive. McMahon hits the nail on the head for the characterisation of Rachel, a twenty-five year old artist who believes that the search for the perfect bagel never ends. McIlveen plays each character well and slips into each effortlessly with little more than a costume change. Caroline Dunphy (Hillary/Sal) could take a few notes whilst watching her co-star (McIlveen) work her magic.

Director Jean-Marc Russ delivers the goods with Zigzag Street and Bill Haycock (designer), David Walters (lighting designer) and Owen Jolly (sound designer) forcefully grab the audience and make them forget that they are watching actors on a flat floor surrounded by boxes and Tim Tam wrappers. I was especially impressed by the play's opening sequence, which I shall not spoil, because I think that everyone should see it for themselves.

Five stars out of five stars.

sleepy city

2004-02-13T12:26:00.000+10:00

Images of the bits of Brisbane that don't match the shiny postmodern marketing at sleepy city:

Through the decaying doorframe or that unnoticed metal hole wait adventure and sights few will ever see. All it takes to step across into this parallel world is a torch and a curious spirit. No joining fees, no ridiculous contracts and nobody looking over your shoulder. You might be surprised how little of your city you have ever appreciated.

Valentines Day from Chicken Soup

2004-02-03T10:51:00.000+10:00

Hello fellow BrisBloggers
I was tempted to write something funny for my very first entry here, but my humour is just really not that funny. So I have actually stolen completely (copyright comes with it) the following from a Chicken Soup email my wife sent me today. I don't know whether this is a hint or not - I being male am just as confused as the author. Is she saying (subliminally) that she wants a new blender (I know hers recently broke and has not yet been replaced) or is she saying don't you dare buy me a blender. Either way I will be wrong I am sure. Anyway now that you are completely confused I will post the story that will (hopefully) shed some light on this rambling prologue.
Enjoy the rain because it wont last; Brisbane - Beautiful one day perfect the next!

A Mistake I Will Not Repeat
By Michael Seale
Ah! Valentine's Day...a day for lovers, romance and flowers. A day for hearts, candy and jewelry, but apparently not a day for appliances.

I give up. I will never be able to figure out the unspoken language between men and women. And to think I got married two months ago secure in the knowledge that I had finally figured out how to play the game. I was wrong.

You see, I proudly presented to my new wife, on our very first Valentine's Day as young newlyweds, a food processor for her St. Valentine's Day gift. She gazed upon this appliance - one she had mentioned week after week that she desperately needed - and said, "Oh. A food processor."

I have always heard that when someone says what the gift is upon receiving it, it's not a good gift (i.e., "Oh. A Chia pet"). Did I mention that my wife has repeatedly said how much she wanted a food processor?

See, I am of the school of thought that says when I ask, "What's wrong?" and my wife answers, "Nothing," I assume nothing is wrong. And when my wife tells me she wants something, I want to get it for her. She wanted a food processor. She got it. So why did I have to sleep on the couch Wednesday night?

My coworkers laughed at me when I pleaded my case to them. I guess they all attended Gift-Giving 101. I must have missed that class. My boss asked me, and I quote, "Are you an idiot?" I suppose I am.

To make matters worse, my wife's coworkers scoffed at my gift, wondering why she would even consider marrying a heathen like me. How dare I? A food processor, indeed! I'm not a complete idiot. It's not like I gave her a lawn mower or a subscription to Sports Illustrated. I didn't even get her that certificate for a free oil change I was tempted to buy. I gave her what she wanted. And she didn't want it.

I was informed by a female friend of mine that the proper action to take was to buy my wife the food processor on Arbor Day or Flag Day or some random Monday. Never on Valentine's Day.

Another friend said gifts like mine conjure images of housework and stuff that has absolutely nothing to do with romance. What happened to "It's the thought that counts"?

I had no idea there were guidelines for which days to give what. The food processor, I am told, was not personal enough for Valentine's Day. How personal do I need to get? I'm not buying underwear, or anything else she would have to wear, for that matter. If you knew anything of my fashion acumen, you'd agree with me.

I was probably the only person in the world who knew she wanted a food processor. Everyone else got flowers and candy. She got a major appliance. That's pretty personalized, don't you think?

I think my gift blunder has less to do with outright stupidity on my part and more to do with a general communication breakdown between the sexes. I have recently discovered that "Watch whatever you want" does not include SportsCenter. I just learned that "Whatever you want to do" does not mean that I can play golf with my friends on Saturday afternoons. I used to think that females found the stereotypical male behaviors cute, even charming. You know, hanging my ties on the doorknob, never making my bed, cold pizza for breakfast, memorizing Caddyshack, cleaning out my refrigerator maybe once every time Neptune orbits the sun.

It's all so guy-ish and adorable.

I was wrong on all counts. And I obviously didn't know that "I really wish I had a food processor" meant "Don't you dare give me anything with a cord and a plug for Valentine's Day!" I know now. And I promise to spread the word to all males who are considering shopping at Sears or Home Depot for Valentine's gifts.

For now, I guess I'd better start thinking of a way to make this up to my wife. I should probably start by returning the sewing machine I was going to give her for her birthday next week.

People I have lived with in Brisbane town*.

2004-01-28T02:57:00.000+10:00

Anne liked keeping kittens locked inside the house in sweltering conditions. We weren't allowed to open the windows in case they got out. She moaned in a very theatrical way during sex. She liked associating with Satanists.

Leif (aka Skelator)went out with Anne. He liked wearing ribbons off his jeans and poncing round. He stole all our rent money to spend on prostitutes. Now living in Melbourne - apparently still with Anne.

Tom was a gymnast. He was pretty normal except for his habit of playing his best friend and girlfriend off against each other for his own (perhaps) sick pleasure. Oh and for looking like a little monkey. Had to move back in with his parents to pay the lawyers bills.

Catherine was in love with Tom and heartbroken when he moved out. She took years to get over it before meeting her current alcoholic ex(?) junkie man who ruined everything he touched.

Peter was Toms best friend. He was in love with Catherine and Tom. He only had one set of clothes and enjoyed nothing better than removing all his body hair. He only owned two cd's which he played 24 hours a day.

Jim was a schizophrenic who would change something in the house everyday be it a new lounge or fifty new plants. His dog and cat both disappeared in the first two weeks I lived there. He was committed shortly after. Would run off with the TV while you were watching it.

Mary was an American exchange student. She had never been overseas before and was from the Midwest. She moved out shortly after taking acid during Miss Teen USA. During this period was notable in becoming the only person I have lived with in QLD to wish there were more cockroaches. Now back in the States.

Ben never seemed to be around. It turns out he was friends with Catherine and Peter in that round about way everyone in Brisbane knows each other. Somehow dislikeable despite never doing anything. Spent his time in a dope induced stupor.

Jenny was Jim's sister. She moved in after he was committed. She somehow seemed like an old hippy despite being only about 18. Went out with Ben.

The guys "in the band". Were moving in as I moved out. What you would expect from a heavy metal band. Feral.

Jenny came back from North Qld after going bush. Moved out shortly after. Brought back five English guys who slept in the hallways so you had to walk over their hard-ons every morning.

Greg sorta went out with Jenny. Fancied himself an artist so never cleaned or helped round the house. Played really bad guitar.

Andrea ran up 400 bucks worth of calls in 2 weeks. Made comments about people's sexuality and constantly had geeky foreign exchange students over who would exclaim over how much they loved strong Australian girls. Was a Christian which says it all really.

Kelly looked like the Wella woman and had the most beautiful hair until she broke her boyfriends heart, shaved her head and became a lesbian after a week at surf camp. She ran away to a women's acrobatic circus soon after.

Fern is one of the best people on earth. When I first moved in with her we embarked on a slab a day/eighth a day diet. It was very successful. Now graduated from uni! A doctor! Married with two kids in Brissy. Changed everyone who lived with her's life - and in a good way. Could have been the love of my life but wasn't.

Melody used to wear a tail (which looked surprisingly natural) and had no common sense. I kicked her out after she sold spliff to a schizophrenic homeless woman who had tried to strangle me the week before. She couldn't work out why I was upset.

Todd was the filthiest looking boy I've ever seen despite taking two hour plus showers everyday. We could not help but treat him with suspicion. His parents were loaded and gave the impression he was slumming. Moved into a Tepee in Northern NSW when he left.

Hettie brought about fifty people with her when she moved in. Thought that by pulling the supports out of the side of the house to enable them all to climb in the window that we wouldn't notice. Ultimately the 20 toothbrushes in the (one) bathroom gave the game away.

Kim despite living with ten others ruled the house with a fist of iron. Managed to get us all to be quiet during her uni exams. Had some funny ideas about the war but is still a top chick. Makes some mean sushi. Living the corporate dream in Melbourne.

Tara was a hippy and one of the best looking and sweetest girls you would ever meet. Taught me to enjoy the little things in life. Lived up north for three months solely on mangos, coconuts and bush tucker. Fantastic fire sticker. Once observed that Tantric workshops were "a great way to get to know people". Now lives in a commune up north.

Paul aka the little French boy dubbed for his amazingly long eyelashes and dark colouring. When out with Tara for a while. Constructive previous life as cyclist at Australian Institute of Sport. Last heard of squatting and busking in Brisbane.

Daria who could do anything. She could cook, fix things, sew, you name it she could do it. One of my best friends. My favourite times were spent dancing on the table in my room after messy nights out. Put me and my now ex up when we got to London (to his discomfort in a separatist lesbian house). Now liking boys again.

Mick moved in after breaking up with his fiancé. We hung out almost constantly, getting up to mischief and running amuck. Moved down south briefly however current whereabouts are unknown. The first boy I knew who changed from being a carpenter to a hairdresser. Was this the first metrosexual?

Sideshow Bob had big feet and red dreadlocks. He only ever wore black or dark brown and was a computer geek as well as being into experimental electronic music. Went out with Kim for a while. Had few social skills. I found out only recently that he had been/was scared of me. I wish I'd known.

Sue was the responsible member of the house. A den mother if you will. At one time totally addicted to buying new sneakers. Only ate white bread. Under pressure to have a more diverse diet I once found her eating frozen veg from the packet.

Conrad was more boyfriend than flatmate - only moved in cause he was living there anyway. Was a "boy in a bubble". Father was an ex SAS Vietnam vet. Mother died young of cancer. Had a lot of "issues" but still a top bloke. Last heard of moving back to Brisbane from Alice Springs.

Nicole helped break my heart. May still be going out with Conrad. Other than that a nice enough girl if a bit fey. Liked plants. Had a look about her that suggested her parents hadn't loved her enough.

Kerry had a very mysterious job which involved all of us thinking she was on the game (unlike later flatmates who really were). Turns out the vaginal wash that had us all intrigued was really just to stay "fresh". Has now emigrated to London apparently for good.

Gina and I were really good mates for ages until I wouldn't fit her up one night. Couldn't understand how I was otherwise occupied by the first boy I had brought home in nearly a year and as a result proceeded to have a three hour fight (with her psychotic (now ex) boyfriend) outside my room. Strangely he wasn't scared off by this.

Sally went to the shop one day and never came back. It turned out that she was a smack addict and she had gone on the run. Saw her at the drive through bottle shop in West End a week later (in her Dads stolen car). Was the only person I have lived with to be declared missing.

Paul and Tim were gay junkie rent boys (naturally this only became apparent after they moved in). We were often awoken by Paul's jealous rages about Tim's activities down the "wall" and by our own smashing furniture. They stole all my flatmates Christmas money after I kicked them out.

Samantha was on the game. Her driver stole my TV. She had a built in radar for the worst men I have ever seen. She fell in love with a 7"5 drug dealing biker fresh out of jail at her strip club. Her relationship with her father was concerning to say the least.

Nancy started stripping too after getting a job with Samantha. She took the most speed I've ever seen which we all loved as the house would be spotless. However it tended to turn her into a mindless zombie. She meet a copper while on the job and gave it all up for love.

Cara was lovely. A bit strange in her own way and terrible taste in guys but then she never really got on with my boyfriend so I'm not one to talk. Things went a bit strange between us after my cat died. Bickering over the rent finally broke the camels back.

Paul was a curly haired angelic looking boy who I must admit I spent hardly any time with as he practically lived at his girlfriends place until he did pack up and finally move there.

Greg worked at Telstra and helped out with his fortunate phone discounts. Spent a lot of time disrobed in his room chatting to other boys on the web. Was a real sweetie.

Adam was another ex boyfriend who was more partner than flattie and the last person I lived with in Brissie. He followed me round the world for a time. Now living back in Brisbane. A heart of gold even if pathologically jealous and insecure.

*Names have been changed.

tech update

2004-01-27T12:44:00.000+10:00

You may have noticed that our comments disappeared recently - this is because blogspeak is no more. However, haloscan has taken over all blogspeak accounts so as you can see, the comments are back - I was even able to save the old ones. Nice.

Oh, and we now have an atom RSS feed: http://brisvegasbloggers.blogspot.com/atom.xml

public service announcement

2004-01-19T23:16:00.000+10:00

for anyone who ever has to pick up or drop off passengers at QUT Garden's Point... you may have gathered, between the profanity of a certain post on my blog, that i am not entirely happy with the traffic and parking situation at QUT. particularly as it led to a $60 fine for stopping safely to drop my girlfriend off, when a truck blocked the only setdown zone.

i have since been informed (by QUT parking people) that if the setdown zone is full, you can pull around to the security gatehouse and ask them to let you in to drop off your passenger(s).

i am yet to test the theory; but damnit, i'm not going to stop in that nice safe closed-off sliplane if it means a fine. i'll take up the security guard's time, since that's the way it's gotta be. hurrah for the Brisbane City Council's parking nazis...

why am i telling you such earth-shattering stuff? well it's just to share the love. nah, i just don't want anyone else to have to shell out for some parking guy to fill their quota on easy marks.

Extreme Theorems

2004-01-04T00:00:00.000+10:00

Well it's definitely a rarity these days to see anything of value on the telly, especially at obscene hours of the morning as one sits, eating cheese and writing a blog entry.

However, last night I witnessed a man figure skating to Lou Bega's 'Mambo Number Five' with an inflatable doll strapped to the front of his body, so I guess that exceptions to the rule are possible. Actually, it was a pretty impressive performance...not only did the guy dip the little lady (who was quite smashingly clad in a nice Moulin Rouge! type number) and successfully pull off many triple axels, but he also took the time to show his love for her by holding tightly onto her flimsy rubber hands as they flayed about lifelessly during the performance. I particularly liked the close ups of her face, as she was no doubt perpetually shocked that the audience enjoyed the routine - why else would her mouth be gaping open like that?

So you may be asking yourself, "Who the hell is this?" and "Why the hell is she eating cheese in the middle of the night?" Hell, you might even be keen to ask me what a figure skating partnership featuring a man and his sex doll has to do with Brisbane.

Before I get into that I will introduce myself, because no one wants to hear about such sordid topics from a complete stranger - unless you're eager to pick up the phone and call Lavalife or something...in which case, I'll hold fort here until you get back from 'clicking' with other singles and/or friends, acquaintances, chums, mums, dads, brothers, sisters and local members of parliament.

But before you go, I'd like to say "Hello, my name is Anni. I am a Virgo, who likes long walks on the beach and I happen to stress excessively about everything. Do you like extreme sports?" When I cite 'extreme sports' and you think that I am referring to racing shopping trolleys down the hill outside my residence, then yes, the proper authorities have been contacted and I have littered those ball bearings about like promised.

I also like to write in a blog, because it is possibly the second worst form of poisoning the youth of today can expose themselves to (the first would have to be a job at Supre...I can imagine an Orwellian congregation at midday, like 1984's "hate sessions", except they'd be no physical acts of aggression or passion because the pre-teens can't even stand properly in their spike-heeled plugger thongs). And I am confident that there is nowhere better to promote such careless behaviour than Brisbane (especially the Southside).

Ah yes...I remember Brisbane with fond memories as a child. Before I moved up here in the mid-90s, I used to come up to visit every year at Christmas from my hometown of Maitland, NSW (right smack bang in the heart of Hunter Valley wine country). As a country kid, I too was taken in by the promise of the city's excitement. I wanted to live there, to meet interesting people and to have adventures. Little did I know that Brisbane transport is of the highest quality by third world standards, and that I would spend the inauguration of my adult years marooned at various bus stops, or sitting on trains with people who like to practice their pole-dancing manoeuvres (male and female) during peak hour. Yes, the people are certainly interesting here and that's why I love it.

Much can be said (and has been said) about Brisbane's contribution to Australia's creative output as a whole. Many would liken our Brisvegas as Australia's "figure skating sex doll" in relation to our creative capital contribution. We have exceptionally talented people in our fair city, who sometimes penetrate the Perspex ceiling and make in big nationwide, hell, sometimes even world-wide. Yet, despite our determination and obvious ability, we are often put second, or third, or last in the creative food chain. We are strapped to the sweaty, pulsating limbs of 'the machine' ( = collective term for those with the cool, hard wads of cash, i.e. the majority of funding bodies, etc), which controls who makes it, and who remains in their shanty houses writing for the Street Press or 'doing favours' for people who know a good thing when they see it.

But what it all comes down to is that fact that when the rest of nation is watching, the machine is bound to keep up appearances by gracefully placing a hand on our backs and offering an empty smile to its audience. It may provide the resources for one, two or three creative individuals (except for that dickhead who smears himself in honey for 'art') once in a blue moon, but what about the others?

Then again, people who say such things about Brisbane are probably exasperated activists...who fortunately offer free BBQs at the majority of student protests, so I have nothing against them :-)

Personally, I think that Brisbane is chock-a-block with enough of the 'right stuff' to accurately label it as a creative city. And with the obvious presence of its 'two degrees of separation' rule, who is to say that it isn't possible to annihilate the inflatable doll theory via an outburst of creative independence (resulting in a surge of conquests) amongst each and every Cell.

Yes there is strength in our masses...and luckily we are all carrying rubber repair kits.

site update

2004-01-03T08:57:00.000+10:00

1.
In response to a request by heretic I've set the author field in the byline to show author nicknames instead of our full names. Hopefully you haven't picked an embarrassing nickname thinking nobody would ever see it...ah, apparently not.

2.
I've also added geographic coordinates to the template so that the blog will show up on sites that list by location - like local feeds - when we have an rss feed set up, that is. Any tech-minded people out there who know of a way to generate a decent rss feed from a blogger-powered weblog, let me know. Most of the scraping services do a very ordinary job of it.

For those of you interested in adding the geographic metadata to your own blogs, all you have to do is post the code below into the head section of your main page:

 <meta name="ICBM" content="-27.460000,153.020000">

Note: these coordinates are for Brisbane city. If you want to be more precise than that, geo url has resources for pinpointing your longitude and latitude.

the two degrees of brisvegas

2004-01-02T19:46:00.000+10:00

Nobody seems to have mentioned this classic brisvegas observation, so here goes...

You have probably heard of the movie/concept Six Degrees of Separation; whereby nobody on the planet is more than six 'hops' away from you.... ie. someone you know will know someone else, who knows someone ..... who knows you.

In Brisbane, you get two degrees of separation - your friends know your friends. If you meet someone new and go to a party at their place, you're quite likely to know someone already. This phenomenon still catches me out sometimes - for instance, hello Nick! I admit, I am one of the people responsible for repeatedly dragging Nick to loud, hot, smoky subculture dives to consume beer and complain about the useless air conditioning.

I do extend the two degrees theory, however. As much as it does hold true, there seem to be entire groups of people in Brisbane with absolutely no connections between them. My theory is this: there are an unknown number of large Cells of people, who all know each other via nodal individuals like my (and Nick's) mate Kevin [nodal individual = person who connect large numbers of otherwise unrelated individuals]. These cells may overlap slightly but generally they have very little interaction. However, should two nodal individuals get together; suddenly entire Cells open up to each other.

And so the cycle of social life begins anew in Brisvegas.

New Year, New Members

2004-01-02T07:41:00.000+10:00

Happy new year everyone!

Now that our heads have (hopefully) cleared, I wanted to welcome two new bloggers: Nick and Anni. Since we now have enough members to make this a real group weblog, I want to open the future format and content of the blog up for discussion. I know we are all busy with our 'real' blogs, so one idea I had was that we could just pay attention to any posts on our primary blogs that seemed to be particularly suited to brisvegasbloggers, and repost them here. I'd like to see it become a window into work and play in the city from a range of perspectives - I don't think we need to worry about making it profound. For example, Brendan could post about his nocturnal adventures in the Valley (G rated of course), and I notice that Pedro has been driving a taxi - I'm sure there's some very interesting potential stories there.

But I'd love to know what you guys (members and visitors) would like to see us do with the space - please post your suggestions as comments to this post so everyone can see them.

Some notes towards an investigation of the nature of Brisbane

2003-12-31T22:47:00.000+10:00

With a title like that, who needs to actually post?

I still do? OK.

I feel a little fradulent trying to write about Brisbane. I don't have a great deal to compare it against, growing up as I did in an even smaller city in New Zealand. I used to lurk on the fringes of the brisi-gothic subculture -- which should be enough to tell you that I'm strongly an indoors type. And Brisbane is nothing if not an outdoors city. Although I eventually decided I was too pink and corpulent to be a goth, I still mostly wear black. Well, dark grey.

I don't really dig the Brisbane music scene. George irritate me, and Powderfinger bore me. Decent venues for sub-cultural stuff are run by unpleasant types and are in any case too loud and hot.

It may be hard to tell from this, but I do love living here. And I feel guilty for doing so. Hmmm. I think I'm going to have to give this more thought.

Bye Bye 2003

2003-12-31T17:15:00.000+10:00

Just wanted to wish everyone a great new year's eve - whether you are doing the family thing at southbank, hitting the turps, hitting the dance floor, or hitting the couch - just don't hit anything that says "ow". Personally I will be behaving according to lessons learned on previous years and having a Nice Quiet Evening at home with a few choice humans and a few wee drams. Have a good one!

Like an old pair of shoes

2003-12-12T22:17:00.000+10:00

Hello friends, associates, comrades, fellow hedonists, mums, dads, brothers, sisters, and casual sex partners,

Allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Brendan, and like the rest of my good people here, I occasionally write unfunny little diatribes and post them on the web to make people feel miserable. There's a particularly brutal portion of the population who actually seem to enjoy my writings, and come back quite often to see what terrible words I've vomited onto the computer screen (not literally, you must understand - but I'm working on that). I can only assume that these individuals are sick narcissists with some very odd tastes. Which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, as if I'm amongst friends, and then I think of that Michael Jackson song "You are not alone", and I feel dirty again.

I currently reside in this squalid little city called Brisbane. When I was a child, I didn't live in Brisbane, but I visited it frequently and thought it was fricken cool. Brisbane had really tall buildings, and heaps of people, and sirens going off, and lots of litter and cigarette butts ground into the pavement. I actually spent my childhood in Rosewood, a quaint little Country-Practice style town about half-an-hour outside Brisbane, the sort of place where parents go to bring up their kids and the sound of a fire truck blaring away is a really exciting thing.

I've spent the last six years of my life in Brisbane now, living with an assorted bunch of ragamuffins, preachers, whores, junkies, vagabonds, bohemians, hippies, rastas, rappers, bikers, alcoholics, slobs and fire-twirlers. Strangely enough, I haven't lived with a communist, which is odd considering half that time was spent in West End.

That's the interesting thing about Brisbane ; it's worn many tags over the past years, growing quickly from a small country town to a state capital. And that's the general comment you hear about the place - "one big giant country town". Which is quite true, really. Whilst other cities have had the time to grow, become metropolitan, have sidewalk cafes where little lattes are sipped, Brisbane seemed to just gain a million people overnight. I mean, imagine the stretch marks you'd have if you went from being one month pregnant to nine months pregnant in one single day? The stretch marks of the country town continue to haunt Brisbane.

And whilst the allure of bigger cities calls, whilst the intrigue of international destinations awaits, and whilst we all pack our backpacks and head over for a tour of duty in London, we know that our affair with Brisbane isn't finished yet. Brisbane is that big old moth-eaten blanket shoved under your bed, the stained and cracked coffee mug you've had for years, that pair of jeans you found for $3 at a Lifeline store five months ago and haven't taken off since. Sure, it smells, and it's a bit grimy, and there's better-looking, better-run, better-featured places out there; but Brisbane, Brisbane is comfortable.

Storm season

2003-12-09T14:11:00.000+10:00

We've been slack round here lately, and what could be slacker than blogging about the weather? Having said that though, Brisbane certainly has a lot of it. It's storm season now, where you wake up in the morning and swim dreamlike through a fug of humidity, and desperately hope that those black clouds gathering above the city buildings will turn into a crashing downpour so that you need to get the winter 'jamies out all over again. It's the only time of year Brisbane has really dramatic weather, unless you count the dry August winds. Enjoy it now, before the long hot months of January and February come along, when we'll start doing rain dances and dreaming of snow.

Reminisces on Brisbane Town

2003-11-22T02:27:00.000+10:00

I feel a bit of a fraud as I don't live in Brisbane at the moment, but I'm a Brissy girl at heart really.

I've lived in so many places in Brisbane. There is nowhere else so fascinated with fireworks and you are sure to be sick of them if you ever live near South Bank. It's one of my favourite spots. Many a night (before the 24 hour security patrols) was spent dipping into our magic mushroom stash and walking the 2 blocks to the "beach". Swimming all night in every waterway imaginable (through the line was drawn at the boat canal - remember that) and returning to hear the siren of our alarms for the day ahead. Gondwanaland rainforest and crawling up the rocks, after hours it was like our own private backyard disturbed only by the occasional streaking teen. Floating before the city scape, rain spheres tangling in your eyelashes in the heat of the night will always be one of my fondest memories.

Straight Out of Brisbane

2003-11-19T16:17:00.000+10:00

Straight Out of Brisbane is a festival of independent and emerging arts, culture and ideas. It's on again this 2nd to 7th December, in locations in and around Brisbane's Fortitude Valley. The 2003 program is now online.

Imagining Brisbane

2003-11-18T16:44:00.000+10:00

I changed the banner images today, something I'll probably do regularly, and maybe archive the old ones on a separate page.

As you can see I've gone with the night-time economy theme - the valley (the "V" is for Volume!), the mall, the Judith Wright Centre (far left) and the glowing "P" of the Powerhouse entry walkway. All these things say Brisbane to me, but I know it's an idealised and marketized Brisbane too.

So, incoming members: I'd like to know more about your ideal Brisbane - maybe as a first post to introduce yourself you could post a couple of images and write something about your memories of Brisbane, your favourite haunts, what you love or hate about it, or even your opinion on how it has been rebranded as a "creative city" in the last few years.

Welcome

2003-11-18T07:52:00.000+10:00

BrisVegas Bloggers will be a network of content-rich, regularly updated Brisbane-based (or Brisbane-native) blogs. We're just getting started, so leave a comment (including the URL) if you know of a blog that should be listed here.

This is also the hub for the very oldschool BrisVegas Bloggers Webring.