I got Nova 969 to play The Beatle’s classic I Want To Hold Your Hand on Friday night.
They also played The Panics‘ Don’t Fight It just before it. That makes it, officially, the best six minutes of music ever on that wretched station.
And I’m proud to have been apart of it.
I’ve won tickets to U2 and CDs off Nova before. Yet no victory is sweeter than this one.
And so, a naïve pharmacist started what was set to be a big day, pun intended, at Big Day Out 2008. After all the dramas of buying tickets on-line at 4a.m., arguing with pedantic parents on my right to attend and a huge cancellation that came as unexpectedly as the death the day beforehand, I was on my way to what I hoped would be the first of many outings to what is an Australian institution.
Warning: Epic Post Follows…
And yet not a single bit of documentation.
Shame on me 
This place is being fixed over big-time btw. Slowly introducing tags!
The subject: “New Gladiator Names”.
The last line in the Print Screen says it all.
Mac support (that also take iPod support calls) have a very perculiar call centre. First and foremost, the guy on the other line had no fake-Anglo name, spoke in broken, accented English, was arguing with two others who seemed, from a phone at least, to be fluent in Australian English, didn’t notice that I told him that I had Window Vista on my PC, and hung up on me halfway through explaining how to reformat my iPod Shuffle.
In contrast, Symantec’s Support Line have a very Indian-Subcontinent-Sounding David Welles in a quiet call centre, who asked for all my operating details (In a non-phising way) and guided me right through fixing my Norton Internet Security subscription so that my mum would be happy.
Makes you think: we always bag out the Mumbai Call Centre, yet they seem to be the ones offering decent service. Of course, there’s the issue with our information being jeopardised (I’m sure Product Disclosure Statements cover that, though), but when I get decent service, I recognise it, even if it has to come from someone who thinks I live in Austria.
May I take this moment to point out how much I hate call centres in general. Despite many suggestions to do otherwise, I do not plan to work at one any time soon.
Today, I saw a girl, probably in her pre-teens wearing a shirt saying:
“ALWAYS UNIQUE NEVER ORDINARY”
Too bad her shirt was just another House of Harrods rip-off slogan shirt. The moral of the story? Don’t try to send messages of individualism when your just wearing another ugly piece of trend-whoring apparel.
/endrant
You really are dumbasses.
Seriously. Were you all asleep during the lessons on light in Science? Did you even read the manual of your oh-so-hawt Sony Cybershot?
All you did was create an annoying strobe-light effect that distracted from what was the better show, that being done by Justin Timberlake. I laugh at the though of seeing your reactions after you took so-many photos with flash, only to see several black screens with dim patches of the stage lighting showing.
That, and you sucked as a crowd. Justin deserved better.
(On that note, the show was damn awesome. I thank Justin Timberlake for hiring the world’s hottest back-up dancers. Ever.)
I recently felt that I had to repost this on this blog. I think I might perform this at next year’s Talent Quest/Year12 Concert, with ammended lyrics for Australian modern culture (Neighbours instead of Hollyoaks, etc.).
I also challenge anyone to bring me any aspect of commericial media, art or modern culture, and I will defend it’s value to society to the best of my ability.
After promising that this dear place would be regularly updated and kept intact, it turns out that after only four posts, I’m already blowing off dust. No need for specifics as to why (*cough*exams*cough*), yet let’s get straight into the meat of today’s post: The revelation that I am a woman.
Not only a woman, it seems, but a married one at that, with children. And have been for at least the past ten months, according to the all-knowing source that revealed this startling yet extremely important fact of life to me, the Sydney Olympic Park Newsletter. As it turns out that when I entered a competition to win U2 tickets last year with them and ticked a box that ensured I’d get constant correspondence from their head base, they detected that I was married female with a family of my own.
Now, let’s avoid the specifics on why I only noticed the lacking-of-the-Y-chromosome now and how I’ve been caring for my husband and kids, and get to something more personal; why you weren’t invited to the wedding. So that you don’t hold it against me, I can admit it was a small affair. It was only between myself, my husband David Gest, my maid of honour Elizabeth Taylor, my husband’s best man Michael Jackson, and our pet carnivorous dogs, Jeb and George Jr. It was held at the Novotel Olympic Park (where else?) and we feasted on party pies made with lobster and pavlova lined with caviar to celebrate the occasion, ensuring that we waste as much of the world’s resources in the process. And we tango’d.
Oh, how we tango’d.
EDIT: Albert has since filed for a messy, bogan-celebrity divorce that will see her children turn to drugs and will be covered by every weekly tabloid magazine until Britney Spears walks outside again.
The big political party that is the APEC Summit is on again, this time in my hometown of Sydney. It doesn’t help that I work during the main conferences (placing my entire travel plans into shambles), nor that annoyingly ignorant protesters that don’t understand the basic definition of “peaceful protest” are going to be even more annoyingly ignorant, nor that there is a three-metre-high wall surrounding most of the CBD. Yes a wall. I saw a comic in today’s newspaper, suggesting that maybe, they’ve finally locked all the war-mongering leaders up. Now that I think of it, it’s odd how they’re treated with the same security as serial killers.
Some say that they should have held it outside of Sydney, saying that all Howard wanted to do was show off to the other world leaders with the Opera House and such. I propose we show the true Sydney to our honourable visitors: Pollution, Overcrowded Trains, Poor Public Health-care and All-Round Boredom since we all remember when the Olympics were held here seven years back. Those were the days, eh?
