Girls Who Play With Their Sleeves...

Look, I just have to ask...

I'm not judging you, my small yet beloved following but this afternoon when I was checking my stats I came across something slightly unusual... 

Now under keywords I was expecting to find phrases such as Heaven On Bourke and maybe even Welcome To The Dirthouse but no amount of filthy Sunday night DH conversation could prepare me for what I was about to find:

Popular keywords that YOU saucy minx's have been typing into your search engines

For some reason unknown to me these search entries have linked you to my blog, and even though i'm grateful that they have led you here, I can't help but be concerned with some of your recreational choices. I mean girls who play with their sleeves? That doesn't sound very interesting or entertaining at all.

As for vagina lip sync and youngest dominatrix...only you know whats going on there and if you'd like to share your thoughts with us please submit your response here 

Hope everyone is having a famous weekend and hopefully I will have some more super enthralling entries for you soon.

;)

My Channing Tatum Experience - Lol Jks: My Depressing Decline Into Unemployment

So, just over two weeks ago I quit my part time job as a public relations executive. Believe me it was an incredible opportunity for someone at my level of expertise but in the end there was only a certain amount of bullshit I could take before enough was really enough. Since then I have been living the high life -  waking up when I want, going to bed when I want and just doing heaps of the other cool stuff one does when they are unemployed.

Ok now lets cut the shit. As I lay here limp in my bed with my Mac on my lap staring into the screen with lazy eyes and my teeth clenched together, you don’t need a rocket scientist to tell you that I’m starting to get really, really unmotivated and quite frankly...borderline psychotic.

In the first week after I quit my job I was happy to be on holiday, I got up at 7am, like I was used to but instead of getting ready for work I’d lay on the couch like a giant sloth and watch the Morning Show while the other Dirt Queens hurried around me performing their own pre-work rituals.

And then I stopped even seeing the girls before they went to work, because after a few days or so I started sleeping in a little later and a little later and next thing I know it I’m waking up at 10:30am and wondering if I should make breakfast or just wait another half hour to prepare an early lunch, this is where shit started to get a little trippy (mixing breakfast with lunch is never a good idea).

And then it hit its peak yesterday when I actually woke up around 9am (not bad) had breakfast (good) but then at 10:30am went back to bed for a nap because it was raining and its not like anyone ever got a lot done in the rain (very bad). I woke up at around 1pm and went straight to the kitchen for my newly prescribed post-nap ritual – one tablespoon of Nutella a slice of cheese and half a coffee and then I did what any un-employed and highly un-motivated person would do and I turned on the TV and started watching day time telly in my pajamas at 2 in the afternoon. The next part will probably shock you so if you actually have a life unlike myself I suggest you exit out of this highly depressing blog and get back to your excel sheet or whatever you employed people do…

After 3 hours I started to get bored and a little bit frustrated at the TV- fuck off Judge Juty, pfft, Deal or No Deal do I look like a game show person? Hmm…TMZ. No I’m not that desperate yet. So I began flicking through the Dirthouse’s diverse collection of DVDs. Texas Chainsaw Massacre…relevant but I’d like to keep my Nutella down. Drop Dead Fred…I could probably go a friend right now but that movie scared me as child and I’d probably prefer not to feel vulnerable while I’m home alone. So I settled on a movie I hadn’t yet seen at that was The Vow.

So now picture this my friends… an hour into the movie I’m sprawled out on the couch, with one bed sock on gripping a jar of peanut butter with pretzel crumbs all over my chest feeling GOOD about myself because Channing Tatum is calling out my name in a desperate plea. For those of you that haven’t seen the movie obviously Channing is not calling out to me but to the leading lady, Paige, who is actually played by Rachel McAdams – damn you Rachel first Ryan and now Channing. Anyway in my delirious state it appeared all the same to me and for a fleeting (I’m ephazising the word fleeting as I don’t want you to think that I actually did this for most of the duration of the movie, because that’s just sheer craziness) moment I actually closed my eyes and imagined that Channing was in the room with me begging me to take him back. WHOLEY FUCK-A-MOLIE.

Don't worry Channing it's going to be okay...The real Paige is here now...

Not much later after the movie had finished and I’d hidden all evidence of me being a disgusting mess the Dirthouse Queens arrived home to find me preparing a healthy balanced me (my first proper meal of the day) in my gym clothes – the only exercise I got that day was playing hide and seek with the Nutella which at one point I somehow hid at the highest point of the kitchen, lucky I had a broom to help me get it down.

“Oohh you look like you’ve had a productive day,” they said.

And that’s when I relaised it wouldn’t be long before they would find out what I was really doing with my days and they’d look at me in disgust, like you guys are probably now looking at your computer screens.

Look guys I am a little bit embarrassed to share this information with you but as a wise bird once said “the truth will set you free”. Coming to the realization of what I’ve actually been doing (or not doing) over the last few days I believe, will help me to re-gain my motivation and be that interesting, obnoxious, adventure hungry 20-something-year-old that you have grown to love (I’m referring to my parents here because I don’t expect you love me yet, because love is a big step but don’t worry because we will get there eventually).

And look, in 20 minutes I just managed to write 1000 words about how much of a slob I have become, so starting my sociology essay shouldn’t be a big deal. See, See!

Since I’m already convienetly located in my bed I think I deserve a nap…

Just kidding, I actually have a fab event to attend tonight ;)

*perk 18798 of not having a job is that I can allocate even more time to getting ready, woot woo! I guess it ain’t all bad after all. 

The Eric Stonestreet Encounter Revealed

I was actually in a meeting for a group university assignment when I got this comment. A girl in my class was clearly making up a seriously boring story as to why she'd missed three of the group meetings due to family issues and other catastrophes, and here I was thinking to myself why do I spend so much money on a higher education when most of the time I am forced to do group assignments with belligerent teenage girls, who although are studying to be communication professionals could not string together a cohesive and engaging sentence if they tried? Look I'm not saying that I'm a literary genius in fact you'll find that my sentence structure is appalling, but there is one thing that I practice beyond all other methods of communication (thanks first year journalism subject for that term) and that is honesty. Even if the honest truth is boring is it always a hell of a lot more interesting and credible than some whimsical, fabricated story. 

The fact that you used the word prick in your question made me smile and subsequently end the meaningless conversation this girl was trying to have with me to write this very long reply. You will only ever find an honest opinion on this blog and extending from that my honest option of Eric (Cam from Modern Family) was that yeah, he was a bit of a prick. 

With his arm warped around a flight attendant he'd met during his time in Australia, Eric couldn't do so much as crack a smile as himself and his entourage took over the area where the Dirthouse Queens and I were sitting. In his defense he probably just wanted to escape to a hidden underground 1920s bar where he could wine and dine his posse in relative privacy but in doing so found himself wedged next to someone who isn't necessarily discreet when sober let along after a few glasses of bubbly. Im sure it would have been okay if Eric was anything like his fun, friendly character Cam in Modern Family but surprisingly he was far from it. By no means did I directly try to pester the poor man, from what I remember I was actually talking to the writer of modern family, Danny Zucker who was sitting directly across from him - to be honest being an incredible writer, Danny was of more interest to me than Eric anyway. Queen L was talking to the owner of a luxury car company who was driving them around that night and Lady B was apparently being informed by another member of the group that if we were to play our cards right we'd probably get an invitation back to their hotel. Obviously I didn't play my cards right because next thing I know Eric was walking away in a huff with the flight attendant in toe. For some reason everyone else stayed with us probably because we're fabulous and by this time Queen L was so pissed that the only expression she could manage was a lazy smile that with her glazed eyes resembled a creepy child snatcher...it was hilarious. The night turned into the mother of all fuck ups and to read more about that click here. 

Coming back to the topic of honesty, you will never ever catch me foregoing my honest opinion to make someone else happy. Regardless of whether you are the post man or a huge celebrity if I believe that something is not right, within means I will let you know that. The Dirthouse Queens informed me the next day that the reason why Eric left was because of me, because I made it clear that I wouldn't stand for someone (it doesn't matter who) taking over the area where we were sitting and then complain about the way we were behaving. I admit in my drunken state that I probably wouldn't have been very discreet about it but that the end of the day if you're at an establishment past 12am and popping a number bottles of Moet & Chandon low key is not exactly what you're going to get.

Anyway that was my brush with fame and scandal, time to go heat up a bowl of easy mac and do my communications strategies assignment. Thanks for the question Anon it was a little bit thrilling to relive that experience again while writing this during my Friday afternoon lecture. 

Have a fabulous weekend everyone x

A Day By The Harbour

Recently I decided to commit to a new goal and that is to get fit, fit, fit! No more over-working, over-eating and binge drinking on the weekends (and the odd Thursday night at Palmer and Co) instead i'm determined to start exercising again and start eating healthy balanced meals, none of that toast for every meal crap. In order to fully divulge myself in my new healthy lifestyle I quit my job, yes you heard me I quit my fricken job. I've managed to save up enough money to see myself through to the end of my degree (on an incredibly tight budget) and not have to start bartending or working in PR again, at least not for the next five or so months. Other than getting fit, i'm also ambitious to start expanding my blog and the fact that I am not longer working 30 hours a week on top of full time study tells me that I will have plenty of time to go out and create drama and other theatrics to write about. 

So, last Sunday The Dirthouse queens and I decided to kick off this new healthy living regime with a brisk walk to circular quay followed by a yoga class in the CDB. Unfortunately we got a little distracted and ended up having a Sunday sesh at Opera Bar - for your information the drink pictured above is merely a soda and lime...with only a hint of vodka I swear. 

Opera Bar is probably one of my favourite venues in Sydney, while it can get pretty touristy on the weekends, its still worth trying to grab a table if not for the yummy food but for the cute musicians that play live music under the canopy every Sunday.

Opera bar has an extensive menu which runs throughout out the day up until 10pm and considering the location ( I always try to avoid eating out around Circular Quay as its usually an absolute rip off) the food is really well priced and delicious!

Its just protocol now, whenever food arrives I have to take several mixed angle shots with my fairly large and embarrassing camera. Its for the blog, its for the blog, okay guyyyysssssss.

And its time to dig in, Queen L goes crazy for the onion rings with paprika aioli $10 but to be honest I wasn't that much of a fan, perhaps its because i'm uber-healthy now and I would really call deep fried onion a super food.

The prosciutto, provolone and rocket pizza $19 was way more up my ally, the base was thin and golden and although the toppings were minimal the flavour combination was insane!

But best of all would have had to be the smoked chicken, asparagus, rocket, orange and radish salad $20, I think that all the girls would agree that there was just something about the dressing and the moist (haha moist) chicken that had us all scraping the plate.

So after a bit of an unexpected feed we decided that we probably better do some form of exercise (especially since we didn't even walk to Circular Quay).

After a sequence of unusual lunges and awkward stretches we came to the conclusion that we were quite frankly just embarrassing ourselves in front of the Harbour Bridge...Yep, just laugh it off ladies...

And then out of no where...LOOK UP! we were distracted once again and then BAM!

Hey Mr. H. Hanson where did you come from?

As the sun began to set and Queen B  began giving me looks likes why is Mr. H. Hanson crashing our party once again??...

We realised we secretly liked being in the company of all our men, Queen L had Mr. H. Hanson obviously, Queen B revealed she was secretly wearing TM's cologne and I had the absolute love of my life, the Sydney Harbour Bridge looking over me as we sleepily made our way back to the taxi rank.

Oh Sydney how I love you.

Back To The 90s - Dirthouse Style

My recollection of the 90s was The Backstreet Boys (fighting with mum about which BB was the hottest - she liked Kevin because he was hairy and manly and I LOVED Nick Carter because he was well Nick Carter), excessively playing Aqua on my discman and thinking I was cool because my closet was decked out in Mambo denim. Its safe to say I've come a long way since then (I now play Aqua on my iPhone) but every Sunday morning The Dirthouse queens and I still find ourselves listening Third Eye Blind or Alanis Morissette if not for the sobering lyrics but to convince ourselves that its just ironic that four grown women have ended up severely hungover and filling in the blanks of the night before, yet again. So, in order to bring back the 90s and not have to worry about losing our purses or our way home we decided to throw a little shindig at The Dirthouse. We erected a marquee and decked out the backyard with all things 90s, from glow in the dark stickers to multi-coloured hullahoops and 90s balloons (which we had trouble sticking upright hence 06 in the photo below). We invited along a bunch of our closest friends and created the mother of all playlists with everything from Nirvana to Eiffel 65. Of course it would be a 90s party without red cups, a highly potent bowl of punch and an American Pie marathon playing in the background. 

So without further a due - this is the 90s, Dirthouse style...

I can't really tell you how Queen L got ahold of a neon pink can of spray paint but I'm really glad she did as it ended up becoming the perfect backdrop for the wild night that followed...

In the photographs below I will use quotes as hints to who the famous 90s characters that attended our party were...

"I do not wear polyester hair, okay? Unlike some people I know like Shawana."

"Is that...is that hair gel?"

  "Been shopping with Dr. Suess?"

- "Well at least I didn't skin a collie to make my backpack"

- "It's Faux".

"Hey did you see that?"

- "Urg. Skateboards. Thats like so five years ago".

"Yo. I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want. So tell me what you want, what you really, really want."

Gwen Stefani hanging out with some beautiful 90s partygoers... 

"WHOA MAMA!"

This shot looks like it is straight out of a 90s teen sex comedy... 

TM being smooth as Vanilla Ice...

And then things started to get, well... a little messy...

And messier...

And at 10:45pm this was the last photograph I managed to get...a bit of a worry seeing as though the party didn't end until 4am. We're still finding Mentos and other iconic 90s food in all sorts of weird places including wedged behind the couch and half buried in a number of pot plants, not looking forward to cleaning this mess up - but I can definitely say the mess was well and truly worth it to bring the 90s back to The Dirthouse just for one crazy night! 

.