Not AFL

My friend Jack is big in the AFL (anti football league). I have been asked why would you do that by my football fanatic family. That is why revel in the idea of a club that is anti something so fundamental to our nature, the soul of the city and the core of what being a Melbournian is.

Well essentially its cos we fucken hate it. But beyond the obvious it is the insidious way it sucks in the masses and spews them back out, fleecing them of cash and all the while pretending this is about the sport not the cash. Football globally is even smarter than the Catholic Corporation.

So in advance of my private space being usurped by beasts of patriotic flag waving idiocracy I say #youdontspeakforme.

Too harsh? Sorry I am just an anti football fanatic

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Nost

 

 

 

 

 

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This bloke

I am working up a spin off blog called Tales of Darren. It is inspired by a dude who has an opinion on everything. He always knows 'this bloke', or tells you about 'a mate of mine, who knew this bloke... ' . What he cannot tell you about money laundering and cement footwear isn't worth knowing, and he will deliver you a moral in every story. He is a little bit Jacquie Lambie meets Barnaby Joyce, a little bit the guy yelling at his son from the sidelines. I dare say he would shoot and he would vote.

A voice is a dangerous thing to hear from the mouth of a moron. Or is it? As much as I cringe when I see him coming I can't help but like the guy. As intensely as I disagree with almost everything he says, he thinks we have struck common ground. I like that.

Anyway that's just a share so you know to look out for some pretty hilarious vignettes. Well I think so anyway.

Blogging I am discovering, aside from being the most luxurious and indulgent modern platform, is something best created locally and specifically. Think niche, act local.

Tales of Darren. Coming soon.
 

Oh yeah and I saw some #graffiti #streetartmelbourne and stuff
 

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R.I.P. Joan Rivers

yes, I am going to weave Joan Rivers into a street art post. Playing six degrees to Kevie-B,  I am fishing the Interwebs for Joan - Rivers - Street - Art.

I am not the only one attempting to draw such an obscure and long bow. In my search I came across: New York City Street Art Pic of Kevin Michael with Joan Rivers.  Don't get it excited it is just a photo of Kevin being a Rivers fan. I looked him up, I didn't know who he was and did not want to look like a dick in this post. Turns out he is a Street and Graffiti Art Curator and Documentarian. A fancy paint spotter. The New York Flasher. But who actually runs shows. I think. A very preppy looking arty Flasher curator boy (yes, risking looking like a tool if he is actually famous and you all know who he is).

But getting back to Joan. In 2009 I sat in a theatre on Broadway a row back from her. Our boy Hugh was drawing the likes of Rivers, Bacall, Midler to Steady Rain. She turned when it was over and asked if I liked the show. Yes it was fantastic! I wanted to say "well I struggled watching such famous faces playing New York cops, particularly knowing that Hugh's formative years were nothing like this" but as I came back from that Nina dream scene she had already moved on. I realise it was just part of the routine, she wasn't actually interested in whether I enjoyed the show. But now I get to say I 'met' Joan Rivers.

Fans waiting for Hugh...okay I may have yelled out
"we luv ya Hughie" #bogansinnewyork

Later that night I saw her surrounded by people in the middle of the road, fans bloody everywhere and I thought to myself thank God I didn't gush.

I also saw her giving the bird in Bali (from my Absolut/fuck Mr Brainwash post)...



Okay, that is about as long as this bow can get, before you start thinking this is a hack piece. So with that I will say Joan Rivers, good bye, thank-you for the laughs. And I will leave you with these gems:

1. Lost Angeles Street Art (Link here)



2. A little on the disturbing side, she apparently lent her name to an Animal Print Graffiti scarf.

3. Not street art but the Huffington post had a sweet blog tribute written by a 17-year-old Kaitlyn Kaminski: My Goodbye to Joan Rivers.

This one is for my lovely Michelle, who has been watching endless you-tube clips since the news hit us.