chapter one: in which laina makes a brief stop at procrastination station

why, hello friends.

it's been a while since i wrote anything of substance, and i apologise for my absence. i have had plentiful experiences resulting in anecdotes worth sharing, just no time in which to recount them with a sufficient degree of snarkiness. i will pretend as though my time has been spent with the things i should be doing (namely, writing an essay on sex workers and another on community health workers) but in actuality most of my efforts have been focused on the following:

1) addressing the fact that one day i will meet john krasinski and woo him with an irresistible combination of wit, charm, and an ass that won't quit, even though swen seems to think he looks like baloo. (and shofferhoffer cannot be angry at me for stealing her man as she has placed dibs on gael. everyone's a winner here).
2) gloating over the fact that, despite the wodie's assertions, ian "the thorpedo" thorpe is a) not gay and b) required to shave off all his body hair in order to wear his high-tech bodysuit, thereby disproving her hypothesis that the suit was just a mechanism to prevent him from taking a razor to his chest. this is a particularly sweet victory for me since this debate has been going on since age 14? 15? probably around the time we found out about her schoolgirl crush on greg kinnear, but that is a story for another time.
3) spending too much time on iTunes purchasing music that i've been meaning to buy for ages.
4) starting to become involved with a grass roots health organisation. (actually, that was just last night, but i needed an excuse to throw some info out there).
5) being cranky with one of my favourite writers for descending into the pit of redundancy and predictability, but then regaining my faith in humanity when he revealed he still has some tricks up his sleeve.
6) eating an entire jar of nutella in 3 days.
7) inadvertently stumbling upon perhaps the greatest music video of all time.
8) losing my faith in humanity again after this feeble attempt to garner street cred. oh yeah, and this one, too. don't even get me started on laura. i think her lack of rhythm is indicative of her lack of one of these but, again, a subject for a later date.

and with that, i must get back to those pesky hookers. until next time...

why don't you all fffffade away....

two of my greatest pleasures in life are the who and smart-ass geriatrics, so this is pretty much right up my alley.

make sure you watch the entire video as the ending is potentially the best part.

people are strange

while my life is too hectic at the moment to write as much about this article as i would like, i feel the need to make sure the world hears about it. i guess we all need a cause. the last paragraph is also a nice touch.

RIP lizard king, you and your tight pants and delusions of grandeur and palpable sexual energy.

easy like sunday morning

like anyone with taste buds and an appreciation for lazy weekend mornings (or...let's face it...afternoons), i love a good brunch. combine delicious sustenance with the appropriate company and ambiance and you have just the recipe for culinary nirvana.

which is essentially what i reached this easter morning at mart 130, melbourne's best brunch according to this renowned epicure. the location is an old tram station at stop 130 (hence the name, mart being tram spelled backwards; please note the backwards "r" in the sign a la toys 'r' us), which was unexpectedly awesome and very "fried green tomatoes," minus the racial and lesbian overtones. i think a companion of mine said it best when he stated that he'd feel comfortable sitting on the front porch with a beer and a shotgun. it has that type of down-home facade, but with yuppie sensibilities. we sipped tea and lattes while reading the roster for the melbourne comedy fest and discussing the circa 1972 globe on our table (i.e. bangladesh was still east pakistan and zimbabwe was rhodesia. nothing like a hearty portion of british colonial interests in the morning).

besides the bonus points for locale and decor, the food that i had the privilege of devouring was both delectable and more-than-reasonably priced. the shofferhoffer and i split corn fritters (layered with aussie-style bacon, tomato relish and sour cream) and a B.L.A.T. sandwich (an improvement upon the classic B.L.T. with avocado and a generous smear of pesto mayo). i am still drooling over it despite the fact that i've been eating for about 12 hours straight today. most of the other members of our party went for some sort of version of eggs with toast, all of which looked wonderful. unfortunately, we were all too occupied with our own meals to do much active sampling, but i can safely say that a return visit is imminent and i will be sure to expand my repertoire.

the single downside is that they don't have mimosas, but i am not allowed to bitch as it is not really a common australian brunch custom. i might smuggle in my own piccolo of champagne next time to mix with the organic OJ they have on offer. i think the only thing that could have improved my experience at this establishment is a slight vitamin C and champagne buzz. however, we had planned for just such an occurrence and had plenty of vino chilling in the fridge back home for our later pursuits. i think jesus would have wanted it that way.

jonesin' for some man meat

can you smell that? that aromatic mix of testosterone, athleticism, homoeroticism, and perfectly sculpted biceps? it can only mean one thing: it is once again footy season in melbourne.

i had grandiose plans to commemorate this event with a whole host of photos of shirtless AFL players, enough partial nudity to potentially get this blog removed from the web once and for all. i mean, go big or go home, right? like footy shorts, this blog hopes to leave very little to the imagination and i, for one, think we need to embrace that sort of brazen perspective. however, i have been thwarted by occurrences beyond my control, and i would like to take this time to both explain and, i suppose, justify the reason why there is no shirtless AFL player staring you down at this very moment, with his piercing eyes and meaty thighs and abs out of which you could lick chocolate syrup/honey/whipping cream/vegemite/a combination of the above...but i digress...

during my first stint in the melb circa 2k4, i was not-so-innocently perusing the internet when i stumbled upon the veritable mecca of scantily-clad footballers: shirtlessafl.com. after my reluctant return to america i became a regular visitor; every time i felt a pang of longing for australia or a wave of frustration as to why our own athletes couldn't be as well-endowed, i would stop by that website and know that all was right with the world. besides the obvious reasons why such a creation would be fantastic, the OCD facet of my personality would like to note that the creator clearly put some TLC into the layout and design. all the photos were categorised appropriately and it was quite an easy site to navigate. it was, in a word, perfection.

so imagine the pain that gripped my solar plexus the day i attempted to quickly peruse shirtlessafl and found this. where once there were heaps of muscles and bare skin as far as the eye could see, now were strange advertisements and absolutely nothing footy-related (or, more importantly, naked man-related). ever the intrepid googler, i quickly found out that the gay community was also up in arms about the situation, so at least i was not alone in my plight. in my frantic state, i even happened upon a site that claimed to feature the armpits of afl players, but it had also been taken off the web. (it seems as though they were catering to a very specific subset of the population, but perhaps armpit fetishists are more abundant than we think. has anyone ever seen the movie flirting with disaster?)

the best site i have found to date is the photo gallery at gayfooty.com.au (i really hope the government is tracking my internet usage: "well THIS is an interesting turn of events..."), and it even provides a clue as to why shirtlessafl was taken off the web. apparently the photo gallery at this new site came under fire for copyright issues and because some of the photos may or may not have been taken without permission. i also think that the players were none too pleased about having their photos strewn about a gay website, but i'm just reading between the lines. there is certainly potential that shirtlessafl was removed from the web for the same issues, but at this point in time it remains a mystery.

i implore you to bear with me while i attempt to navigate this newly treacherous terrain. someday soon, when you least expect it, i will begin to post shirtless photos of my favourite footy player du jour. if all goes well, i may even attempt to organise something on a regular basis, a more erotic version of this site. i'm hoping that some more google sleuthing will provide the fodder that i need. however, as i am not sure how much more gay porn i am willing to sift through, i am fully prepared to take one for the team and stalk around the locker rooms at the MCG with my camera. watch for me on the evening news.