Andrealand

2011-10-10T00:53:00.000+09:00

2009-11-25T00:51:00.002+09:00

HELLLLOOOO!!!!

Update: One of my new blogs has been loaded up on The Doll Rag (see 'Blogs I Follow'). Check it out if you've got a moment. There are also heaps of other postings about female stand ups, so have a squiz AND feel free to comment!

A.

Yes, oh YES!

2009-05-23T13:23:00.007+09:00

Les Miserables jumper - perfect!

I love it when someone puts you onto a website this good. Thanks Arielle & Shane!

Check it out:

www.awkwardfamilyphotos.com

March / April Audit

2009-05-23T12:55:00.004+09:00

Read: The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas
Reading: Living Bewteen Fucks by Cry Bloxsome
Watched:  Samson & Delilah (2009)
Watching: True Blood (HBO)
Listening: Maria Bamford’s new album ‘Unwanted Thoughts Syndrome’ - by far her best stand-up yet!
Downloading: The MOTH Podcast 
Website Love: desiretoinspire.blogspot.com
Café: Lincolns 
Pub: Matsos, Broome
Eating: Homemade steamed vegie dumplings and curry puffs 
Drinking: Heaps of herbal teas!
Wearing: New boots from Melbourne and warm leggings. I also have a new badge which says I'm posh.
Last show: The Adventures of Alvin Sputnik – Deepsea Explorer by Tim Watts. It was amazing!!!
Next show: Jimmy James Eaton’s Improsapian @ Lazy Susan’s Comedy Den  
Can’t wait ‘til: Canada!
Favourite coloured liquid: Orange. Espeically if it’s the in the form of Carrot & Corriander Soup. Thanks Lindsay!
Most recent purchase: Zoza? It’s a dress from Broome that can be worn like 150 different ways. It even came with a DVD for christsakes!
Want but can’t afford: New hair, again. 
Need but can’t afford: A full-time job.
Last bad act: Having bad thoughts
Bad news: The ‘Hoods’ tour is over.
Good news: I’m going to Canada 
Goal: To finish the short story I started on writing on tour.  
Yesterday I: Performed the final show of ‘Hoods’ last night. My dad surprised me by coming to the show. I made him real proud ☺
Right now I should be: Lunching.
Later today I’m: Forcing myself to play some improv games that I hate. Scary challenge-o-rama!

February Audit

2009-03-02T12:12:00.009+09:00

Reading: A collection of stories I wrote as a child, and some totally over-the-top, angst-filled diaries from my teen years.
Watching:ABC docs and Compass. There was a great one last week about the commune I grew up near in Balingup and also one last night about Black Grace Dance Company (hot kiwi fellas).
Listening: Classic FM (?) and Port O'Brien.
Downloading: The Rachel Zoe Project. I'm a bit worried about this new addiction actually.
Website du jour: thisamericanlife.org
Café:Olgivies in Subiaco, ewww posh.
Pub:The Rosemount - outdoor.
Club:The Festival Club and The Blue Room Festival Club
Eating:Avocados. I have soooo many from the farm and they are all ripening at the same time. Willing to deliver to anyone that wants some! My hair is turning green.
Drinking:More loose leaf tea. Just got myself a cup with a filter - we're a bit in love with each other at the moment.
Wearing:More red than usual.
Last show:The preview of HOODS, currently touring.
Next show: Solo Spot @ The Blue Room Theatre
Can’t wait ‘til: I go to Melbourne and participate in the festival purely as a punter.
Most recent purchase:A big red brolly.
Want but can’t afford:To touch up the dent on my kombi.
Need but can’t afford:A dog walker.
Last bad act: I fell asleep when my director was giving me notes.
Bad news:Well, I split up with my boyfriend and Mum & Dad's dog Barry died. Both were for the best really :)
Good news: I got a kick-ass role in a new Nickelodeon cartoon! BAM!!!
Goal: Start planning my funding application for my new solo project.
Yesterday I:Got totally radical on my bike.
Right now I should be:Writing my solo spot which I have to perform tomorrow after doing two kids shows!
Later today I’m:Having a breakdown because I've procrastinated all morning.

I Saw Easter Bunny! By Andrea Gibbs Aged 7

2009-03-02T11:46:00.003+09:00

One sunny day I went shopping and saw Easter Bunny. He went over to the park. I followed him over to the park. He went over to the beach and went on a ship. Then went off in the ship. I hopped into my fast boat and followed him. I saw my mum on the ship and she kissed easter bunny! I threw a rope on the ship and hopped on it. Easter bunny went swimming. He swan into the land. I followed him. Easter Bunny went to my house! I followed him. Easter Bunny went up the steps! I followed him! e went into my room! I followed him. He put a big chocolate egg on my bed! I thanked him. Easter Bunny went home. I did not follow him I ate my big chocolate egg.

I (heart) Easter Bunny!

2008-05-04T03:08:00.000+09:00

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Death of a pet continued.....

2008-04-26T12:39:00.003+09:00

Beaky meant the world to our family, especially Mum. But, on account of the title of this blog, there's no prizes for guessing where this story is going.

One day, Dad came home from work to an empty house. Mum was in town shopping for groceries. Dad went about his business, walking down to the paddock to feed the animals. He laid hay out for the cows, gave rolled oats to the ponies and donkeys and pellets to the goats. His last job was scattering grain on the ground for the chooks. They all gathered around his feet, stomachs growling and chests puffed out, eagerly awaiting the shower of grains. All but one chook. Beaky.

Dad didn't take too much notice. Sometimes Beaky would just wait up at the house where it was warmer and hope to get some of the leftovers. Dad finished the feeding frenzy and walked up to the house to look for the missing Beaky.

He walked inside, and there he was. Sitting in the middle of the hallway. Dad didn't realise he was dead at first. It was an easy mistake to make. Beaky had simply tucked his wings in tight, sat down on his haunches, closed his eyes and died. Dad stood there and looked at him for a moment. For a brief moment, Dad was pretty upset. Then he was suddenly struck by the fact that Beaky just looked so incredibly peaceful just sitting there. He couldn't believe that this little bird looked so cute. There was no need to be upset, he'd made the decision to go himself.

'Trish has to see this,' Dad thought to himself. Then not really thinking too much at all, he scooped little stiff zen-like Beaky up and popped him in the freezer. 'I'll preserve you! Trish won't be so upset if she sees how peaceful you were when you died'. Dad though it was genius.

But Dad's not a genius. He's forgetful. And he forgot about putting Beaky in the freezer for 2 days!

It was almost three nights later, when we'd all finished dinner and Mum asked if we wanted dessert. That's when Dad remembered. Unfortunately it was a moment too late. Mum swung the freezer door open and screamed.

'Beaky, Beaky, oh little Beaky!'

'Oh, yeah.... umm Trish, I...'

Dad had put him in there to make Mum feel better, but he knew it was too late now. She was quickly beyond feeling good. I think she was in too much shock to feel anything. She stared at Beaky for awhile, and then cried. Beaky looked still looked gorgeous after 2 days perched like a little budda on the frozen fish fingers, beak crossed and eye closed shut. Dad didn't need to say anything, Mum knew Beaky had gone peacefully. Mum reached into the freezer, lifted him up. I thought she was going to take him out, but she went for the choc-chip icecream instead.

We all sat down around the kitchen bench and ate our icecream in silence. Mum was ok, I guess. I mean, she looked like an depressed, overweight, binge-eating teenager, the way she was eating icecream and sobbing into her bowl at the same time. But she got over it.

Beaky had had a great life, and we all knew it. That was the most important thing to Mum. That's always been the most important thing to us. As a family, we've lost a lot of animals along the way - and considering Mum has a menagerie, we'll lose a lot more.

But no matter how many times you part with a pet, it doesn't get any easier. They are our little friends, we spend so much time with them and love them with all our hearts. And when they are gone they leave a big hole in your chest. A hole that's filled with grief, but also hopefully a little bit of knowing that we gave them the best chance we could.

I miss you Beaky, Bimbo, Bruce, Ozzie, Missy, Misty, Becky, Heidi, Kevin, Cooper, Pig-Pig, Rosie and Santa.

And most of all, I miss you Gus.

Super Retard

2008-04-26T12:11:00.003+09:00

I feel like the biggest super retard.

Me and auditions are about as good as blue cordial on toast. A soggy piece of shit.

I had one today for a kids theatre show. I've done them before, I know the writer, the other actor and the director has seen me in three other productions - it all should've been all so easy.

But it wasn't, I fucked it. How? I don't even know. I was just shit.

I think it's because I've never really had to audition for too much, and now I don't really know how to. I've been lucky, most work I've gotten has been thrown my way through past shows and friends recommendations. The idea of having to sell myself while I trying to remember lines and pretend I'm talking to a 5 year old when a middle aged man is looking at me holding sock puppets turns me into a super retard.

Today things just didn't go to plan. And it's my own stupid fault.

Puck you Australia!

2008-04-07T08:34:00.003+09:00

I doubt that I'm even gonna watch The Logies. I'm so thrilled about it, that it will come and go without me even blinking.

But, I gotta say - good on ya, Chris Lilley! Good on for you son! Thank god for your talents. There's absolutely no argument that you'll be taking home a few little statues on the night. The other nominees aren't even worth a look in. Adam Hills and Rove are lovely, and deserve recognition on account of their hard work - but as my friend Lindsay would describe them - they are 'beige'. And as for Kate Ritchie and Lisa McCune.... pluuuueeeese! Lucky I'm wearing a very busy floral number today, because I just vomited down the front of my shirt.

Lilley, you've made broader Australia wake up and embrace something a little different, which is not easy to do. It's inspiring and makes me wanna keep on keeping on.

Let's hope my audition for the ABC goes great guns tomorrow, so one day we can sit and have a beer together. Love your work.

The Death of a Pet

2008-03-12T02:04:00.003+09:00

I recently lost my first pet. Gus. He was a dog. He still is a dog. He died from swallowing a chew ball, what could be more doggy than that?

He was my first pet as a big kid - as a grown up. I’d chosen him without any help, I’d fed him, I’d walked him and taken him to the beach and paid 15 bucks to have his ears cleaned afterwards. We’d made a home together in Maylands, right near his favourite park and a special part of the river that felt like ours. It was our little piece of prime real estate right near the water. And we fully embraced it. Anyone that came near couldn’t help but be enthused by Gus’ boisterous, overexcited friendship making skills and my unpretentious tracky dacks. We were the perfect couple.

I miss him, a lot.

It’s not the first time I’ve lost a pet though. There was Bimbo the family Chihuahua that got run over by a motorbike, Rosie the Guiea Pig that froze to death one winter night because we forgot to bring her cage inside and ofcourse Kevin Bacon the bush pig that we ate. I’d like to note that I was unaware until after dessert was served.

My family is hopeless when it comes to the death of our pets. Even when we are delightfully in some choc ship icecream for dessert. We love them so dearly.

My parents would welcome any animal with open arms and hearts full of love from their start to their finish, even if it is next to a corn on the cob and side of veggies.

No matter what kind of animal, we will love them. We’ll name them, all of them. And love them.

Even if you’re a chock. Even if you’re a retard. And especially if you are a chook that’s retarded.

Beaky was a special little hen. The kind of chook that wasn’t big enough for eating but big enough to love with all your heart. He got his name because of the way that his beak had formed, or should I say disformed.

The top and bottom parts would avoid coming together. Instead they decided they were attended diiferent parties, like Siamese twins having boyfriend issues. You felt like him like his was an awkard teenager before braes were invented. His beak worked like a bent pair of scissors. And just like a bent pair of scissors, it failed to do it’s job properly.

Beaky was a small chook, mostly on account of not being able to pick up grain from the ground. To combat this Mum would throw him into a bucket full of feed and he would roll around in it like he was trying to put out a fire. He’d throw his head back in scooping and shovelling as much wheat and rye into his throat as chickenly possible. It was like watching Chris Farley rolling around in a tonne full of dirty beef roadhouse sausauges, but with his mouth sewn up.

Beaky was the kinda chook that was allowed to do anything. The other chooks might of laughed at him and ridiculed his inadequencies, but he always had on up on them. Beaky stuck it right up those cocks … (to be continued)

Uptight reviewer or am I a smut?

2008-02-22T11:33:00.001+09:00

Two Adelaide reviews.

Two very different opinions.

1. “one of the hottest tickets in town”

2. “thank god she kept her clothes on”

I feel a bit ill.

Over the course of the life of STARKERS it’s had a total of 5 reviews. Four stunning reviews and today the first shit one.

It’s irked me. You know why?

He calls me a smutty feminist. Hello Mr. Beige.

I know what people are gonna say when I tell them - “it’s just one opinion, Andrea”. I’m not stupid, and compared to every other review I can’t help but assume that this guy has kinda missed the point.

But it’s haunting me.

I have a strange desire to meet this reviewer and find out what give him his jollies.

But I know if I did, it wouldn’t amaze me when I discovered he was into Carl Barron or Chopper. He'd love sitting in the front row of a Dave Hughes show, to him that would be comedy gold – just like watching his wife do the dishes.

And I’ll thank my lucky stars that he’s not a fan of mine.

Giant dreams, midget abilities.

2008-02-19T09:31:00.004+09:00

The title of this blog entry is also the title of one of my favourite David Sedaris short stories.

However, it's been chosen to head this blog on account of it summing up my stupid life at the moment.

I’m at the Adelaide Fringe Festival, and feeling less than magnificent with my midget abilities.

Today I decided that if I had of been lucky enough to have been born out of a meteorite and grew into big strong superhero, I wouldn’t want just any old powers. I would refuse x-ray vision and light speed flight. I’d shake my head if offered a magic whip or the ability of super strength. I would, yes I would. Even though I’ve dreamt many time about lifting a small vehicle, I would still say no!

I’ve decided that if I had to wear my undies on the outside and a cape draped over my shoulders, my skill would be the power to stack audiences.

I’d be called Andrea The Audience Maker.

And I do it all myself – without the help of television, or radio, and poster quotes like: “As seen on …”. I wouldn’t need those deceitful aide-de-camps.

The people would simply come.

Me and my sidekick would stand and watch them gather in large bulky numbers. Oh did I mention I’d have a sidekick? She’d be called Pony. She a she'd do sidekicks. Kicks out the side. Not the front or back, just the sides. First class, fully sick sidekicks.

Every night groups of people would suddenly find themselves sitting in a little sweatbox of a tent that could quite easily double as a sauna. The only exception would be the hot sticky garden chairs they’d be forced to slide their bums into, and no towels anywhere. Stage lights would shine through the broad daylight that’s already shining through the tent, giving the space even more unnecessary warmth, making it look like a weird daytime porn sauna.

Show time 7 pee em.

They wouldn’t know what to expect, but they would be pleasantly surprised. They would see someone they’d never seen before, someone they could have never even imagined seeing. She would be different, the show would be a little different. They would all be overcome with a strong feeling of enthusiastic approval and huge amount of admiration for the performer and her performance.

Despite the beads of sweat rolling down their legs, they would be all so pleased they had been shown the way by Andrea The Audience Maker & Pony. Together they had made there way through all the posters of recognisable faces and voices and they had been given a breath of fresh air. Granted it wasn’t that fresh, more past it's used by date and stuffy, but despite this, they would all conclude the route to the daytime porn sauna was a good one.

“Thanks again Audience Maker!”, they would all cheer and applaud. Then I’d ride off on Pony, sidekicking anyone in the head who asked for an autograph.

WTF is the POINT!!!

2007-10-03T23:22:00.000+09:00

Where the fuck are my comments, you fuckin' fucktards!

What is the point?

I quit.

In Galway, finding a place to rest your ass is hard...

2007-09-29T12:44:00.000+09:00

Kerry and Tim have been on a mission to find a place to live in their new home city, Galway, Ireland. And a 'mission' it is. The rental market in Perth is mental, but nothing compared to what Kez and her beef eater are faced with each week.

There is a rental paper that comes out weekly for free, but if you like, you can buy it the day before. And, EVERYBODY does. They line-up in masses, as if they were buying tickets to a Nirvana reunion concert complete with Kurt Cobain propped up on a stool at the front.

Then, Kerry and Tim truddle off and inspect several houses. People interview them. Then they get text messages saying "Sorry, we've found someone - good luck looking though!"

It's pretty soul destroying, I imagine.

Well, Miss Kerry has to keep herself happy somehow. So she just simply texts back to thank them for the opportunity:

"No worries! By the way, I heard the people you decided on like staring at you when you sleep".

Word.

26yrs and 3mths old Review

2007-09-29T12:17:00.000+09:00

At times, this month, I've felt a bit sad. Like a fat girl with a really pretty face.

I wish the courier at work was my screensaver.

I hate the Brisbane Hotel - it smells like panties.

I like talking about the football, and I hate people who look at me like I'm an Aussie mong. Hello?! I am an Aussie mong!

Single boys in Perth don't play hard to get, they play hard to like.

The sunshine makes me feel like god is patting me on the head with his big fat hand. It's lovely.

I paid off my credit card.

I've cried uncle and given in to the fags again. My excuse: I have to smoke in the play I doing. WHATEVER!

Sometimes I wanna take my boss outside and shoot her.

I like Peaches, she gets to sing with Iggy Pop and say stuff like "Motherfuckers wanna get with me, lay with me, love with me. All right." 'Coz it's true.

Message to Kevin Rudd: Thank you for finally agreeing to go on HACK (Triple J). Now let's hold hands and skip and tell John Howard to go kill himself.

I think Kingsley Reeve is a lovely manfriend.

In October I'm just gonna keep on keepin' on..... it should be easy to do that in FreeJee. WOOT!

Letter to an Ex-Boy/friend

2007-09-23T01:43:00.000+09:00

Hey Dimwit,

It's not about love, it's about you being interested in what I am, what I do and what I'm doing. That would be nice. It would be nice if you could do that. I have friends who do that. I don't want to talk about the weather or say "how ya doin?" to you anymore. If it's just gonna be that then, you're not my friend. You're boring. You are. The only person you're more exciting than is your mute girlfriend. If it wasn't for her, you'd even bore yourself. Sorry, but I don't have time. I don't want to have time for you. I'm kicking myself for ever trying to have time for you. Sounds a bit dramatic I know, but I could burn your face off with a blow torch or wrap the pussy of a blue bottle around your face and you'd still be be boring. No amount of drama will ever make that personality of yours more interesting. The only way you make friends is by doing impersonations. Maybe you should try to impersonate your own personality. Hang on, that was hit by a truck at age 9 wasn't it?

I'm done pretending to be conscious when you're talking to me. It uses up too much of my energy. Energy which I need for things loads more important than a silly little "let's be BFF" bullshit story.

I've made this decision, now I can live happily ever after.

Thankme very much.

From

The Friend You Can't Have

It's Business, It's Business Time

2007-09-01T02:40:00.000+09:00

I’m not a sad single, so why did I cry tonight.

1. I went to dinner with three close friends. Two who have been married since she was 18, and the other uprooting her life to meet her love on the other side of the world.
2. All the conversations people had tonight were about relationships, and love and how they’re love works and how good they are together or going to be together. And a little bit of theatre thrown in - let's be honest.
3. I tried to explain I liked living by myself, but there's things that make it hard.
4. I’m not meeting anyone new.
5. I went to the pub thinking ‘Maybe I might’, but our table was so insular.
6. Looking at my phone and seeing nobody has called or text.

What I learnt:

1. I gonna try only going to dinner with fun single people or my parents – there’s not gonna be any in between.
2. Refuse to engage in anyconversation about relationships. I'm finding it overwhelming and boring. And it makes me recognise my short attention span.
3. I have the best housemate. Myself. Oh and GUS - fuck yeah!
4. That I’ve put myself in a bubble and can’t meet new people.
5. I can’t find the doorway out of the bubble to get away.
6. My phone has for some unknown reason barred all of my stalkers. Which is quite a technological feat considering I didn’t have any. It would have had to conjure up boys with binoculars and window jimmying skills and then find out their numbers and put them on my do not call this. I have a snazzy phone but it doesn’t have those kinda skills.
7. It’s nice coming home to a new episode of Flight of the Conchords. It’s business time.

2007-08-23T21:33:00.000+09:00

I am reading: Arts funding application forms.
I am listening to: The Bumblebeez
I am watching: More episodes of Flight of the Conchords download very slowly. Paint dries faster!
My latest obsession: The Flight of the Conchords
I am wondering: Why I dreamt about having sex with David Wirrapanda, and why he had tonnes of cakes in his kitchen. Was it my birthday?
Last good thing: That dream.
Last bad thing:
I have realised: I've got a hell of a lot on my plate at the moment. I thought I was a big eater of life, but I'm really starting to struggle.
I am shat off by: The fact that I was channel surfing the radio this morning and Em from 92.9 completely ripped off my brazilian waxing spot I did on 96fm. Thank god I'm not in that unoriginal, creatively stumped, poor excuse for entertainment , shite industry anymore. Bless.
I would like: A few more hours after work to do shit.
Website du jour: www.adelaidefringe.com.au
I'm a which pub: The Flying Scotsman. I'm sorry I haven't seen much of you this week. Sunday will be great though.
I'm eating: Tacos (I'm too ashamed to reveal how many)
Drinking: Brookhampton Estate wine
Wearing: The only bra that I have left and undies.
Last show: The Comedy Lounge
Next show: Kilty Pleasures, Flying Scotsman 26 Aug
Can’t wait ‘til: I've stopped stressing about funding for my show. It's gonna be months.
Most recent scoop: Gingers are going to be extinct in 100 years.
Most recent purchase: I gorgeous red shirt and black vest. Just have to work up the balls to wear it.
Want but can’t afford: Another puppy.
Need but can’t afford: A new bra.
Goal: To start nailing my scenes for LOVEPLAY (PICA Sept)
Yesterday I: Got really pissed off at myself for being useless.
Right now I should be: Learning lines

I want to meet you boys...

2007-08-06T23:45:00.001+09:00

Andrea Simpson

2007-07-27T16:46:00.000+09:00

This is what I would look like if I lived in Springfield.

Has anyone seen the new movie yet? I'm going on Sunday - WOOT!

Question for the boys...

2007-07-18T15:24:00.000+09:00

Would you rather cry every time you have an erection or poop your pants every time you sneeze?

I'm bored @ work July Audit

2007-07-12T11:52:00.000+09:00

I am reading: The Artist's Way - it's half inspiring, half a load of wank. So sometimes I feel inspired, but most of the time I feel like a wanker.
I am listening to: A CD I made for myself for when I clean my house. It features Dr. Love by The Bumblebeez, Kick It by Peaches & Iggy Pop, We Are The Night by The Chemical Brothers, Claude Von Stroke, LCD Sound System, Ben Kweller.
I want more money to buy: The t-shirt above.
I am thinking: Shit I hope my show STARKERS goes ok.
Last good deed: One of the bar staff at the Scotsman lost his motorbike gloves, I found them and returned them. I got a free beer.
Last bad one: I've been neglecting my dog Gus. I feel sooo bad. And having to leave Lindsay's Birthday party early on account of almost fainting.
Last good one done for me: My ex-boyfriend went into the city for me to buy me Diro foundation!
I am wondering: How I can get money to take my show to Adelaide Fringe, Melbourne Comedy Festival and Edinburgh next year.
People I wish could be come to my show: Simon Pegg, my friend Jane who is in Columbia, Baggas & Renae in Melbourne and my Poppy.
I have realised: That I bite the inside of my mouth when I'm anxious and nervous. I have to stop thinking about my show before my mouth is totally mutilated.
Good stuff people should indulge in: Brookhampton Estate Winery. I have it free for my Opening Night and there's bound to be left overs that I'll be indulging in.
I hate: Feeling this sick before a show.
Last random thing: I'm sick of being called 'Former 96fm Breakfast Announcer' - after this show that title has to be dropped. It's fucking embarrassing.
Any advice?: Kerry said to me last night re: my show, "Don't fuck it up"
So I am glad: People are exciting about watching me perform.

Church is only good for one thing, and it comes in a jar...

2007-07-01T13:50:00.000+09:00

My nephew was baptised last year.

It was the second time I'd been to church in my life – my family doesn't really dig God.

I was 6 yrs old the first time I went to church and all I remember is that someone gave me a cupcake to keep me quiet. I had to sit through the entire sermon holding this cupcake and wasn’t allowed to eat it until the end. And they say Jesus suffered!

Anyway, nephews baptitty. I rock up – it’s a beautiful church in City Beach, well swanky, but the ceremony was soooo dull. I was so grossly hungover and I had no idea when to stand up, sit down, sing, say ‘Amen’. By the time it all finished I was thinking, ‘What a waste of fucking time’.

Then, on the way out I saw a table. It was covered in jars. And hanging from the table was a sign that read - ‘Holy Water - For Use At Home’.

I couldn’t help myself. I got a jar. I couldn’t resist the gingham covered lids.

I haven’t used it yet. But I keep it hidden in my bedside table. One day, when I’m incredibly hung over, and there’s no Mersyndol in the house, I know I’ll reach for the jar. If there’s one thing that can stop you head from spinning and your bedroom walls getting covered in spew, it’s holy water.

"Party, Party, Party - that's our image"

2007-05-25T20:46:00.000+09:00

I was speaking to my cousin yesterday and she works with a girl that did ‘party boobs’ on the weekend.

Well, I didn’t know either. Until yesterday.

Party boobs, are when you get saline injected into your breasts and they get really big like you’ve had implants. But then it wears off in a few days. Gives the saying ‘Having a big night out’ a new meaning doesn’t it.

The saline is a natural product, something that's already in our bodies, so apparently you don't have any risk of allergy or adverse effect. Apparently it’s been available for a couple of years.

So you can just go to your doctors,and have your boobs pumped up. Just like going to the servo and getting your tyres pumped up.

But it scares me – what if it’s like tyres – what happens if you pump one up a bit much and you have a blowout!

It scares me. Imagine what would happen if you’re making love and Bang - you go skidding off the bed. And one of your boobs flies and hits the wall.

I don’t think our doctors have thought this through enough.

I'm gonna learn me some new words...

2007-05-14T01:29:00.000+09:00

I don't a have a particularly strong vocabulary. It's pretty weak. It's like little choir boy arms. But I'm gonna fix this. HOW? Give myself 3 - 5 new words a week to use as frequently as I can. To the right is the first list of words I am going to start with. But after this week, I'll be taking suggestions from all you bookbusters. Give me some big wanky words guys!

My Commercial Radio Holiday of Death

2007-04-26T19:45:00.000+09:00

I remember interviewing Judith Lucy in my first month doing breakfast radio last year. She was in Perth touring her show 'I Failed!'. It was about the time she spent doing breaky on Sydney's 2day FM.

She's was a great interview and quite perky (for Judith Lucy), but off air when we were talking I told her I'd just started doing radio. She just looked at me and shook her head and said "You poor thing Andrea". At the time it didn't really register what she met. I was still so fresh faced, and twenty years her junior I thought I could tackle anything. But she had said it with such incredible sympathy. And then, just before she hopped into the lift, she gave me a hug. It was at that point when I thought - shit....Judith Lucy just gave me a hug! .... what the fuck is going to happen to me!

The week after she was in Perth, The Age printed an article which Lucy had written about the radio industry. Everything she said was so remarkably true. I'm sure some people might like to think she has a chip on her shoulder - but I've met her and it's simply not the case. She is truthful and completely honest about her time in the business.

When asked why she got into breakfast radio she openly admits, "Stupidity and greed". Those are definately two of the reason i found myself there. Cash! Obviously it was the most money I've ever been offered in my life. But in saying that, I was determined to never sacrifice my soul or as Judith likes to put it.... "your first born".

Anyway, quite a few people have been asking me about my time on 96fm and I've been having a hard time explaining because I don't want people to think I'm bitter. Because it's quite the opposite. The feelings I've had in the last week since being away from the industry have been overwhelmingly good. I'm so proud of myself and really bloody excited about what lies ahead. It's all up to me what I do and it feels amazing!

Who knows, maybe I'll start crashing down next week. But, let it happen. I would rather be sitting in the pub crying on my friends shoulders, than sitting in a meeting watching some poor fucker be made to do push-ups on the board room table infront of all their other work mates.

Life's pretty sweet away from all that.

Anyway, below is a link to the article Judith Lucy wrote last year. She sums it up beautifully.

http://www.theage.com.au/news/tv--radio/cult-radio/2006/04/04/1143916529492.html

It all starts now.