I DO! Jack-Jack-Jackie and the Muscle Marie Claire!

love is love is love is love is love

Thank you Jackie Frank and thank you Marie Claire.

Do you, Adam Williams thank Jackie Frank and Marie Claire for their lawful, credited plight to campaign that your love is equal to their reader's love regardless of sexuality, gender, colour, ethnicity, income, postcode, net worth, eye colour.... I do.

I DO!

Marie Claire you may be a magazine, but right now you are our God!  A god that loves thy neighbour in a non judgemental way and is empowering your readers and believers to have faith that one day, if we work hard and harm no others, we too can be as valued, as important as and as equal to your other readers.

Primarily a women's magazine, I'm awed that Jackie and her team are strong enough to take a stand to fight for my human rights as a man who loves another...... well simply loves ANOTHER.

I'm grateful to the women who came before Jackie who actually fought in the 19th Century to ensure women were regarded equal to man, for without them Jackie wouldn't even have been able to have her platform.  MEN decided that women had no right to vote, to hold public office, to work, to fair wages or equal pay, to own property or to be educated.  Lucky we sorted that one out hey..... Julia Gillard.

I wish our female Prime Minister had a better memory and could remember that day too.  Perhaps Ms Gillard is too busy worrying about her RED hair?

I mean the bible suggests that Eve's red hair was the stain of sin and folk law suggests red hair a sign of a witch.  And MAN actually chose to burn 45,000 of those red head FEMALE witches with abnormalities like freckles and..... red hair.

It's lucky Ms Gillard's boyfriend doesn't have red hair, because Hitler banned the marriage of two red heads fearing their children would be deviant offspring.

Speaking of Hitler, only TODAY did Australian Christian Lobbiest Jim Wallace compare supporters of marriage equality to NAZIS while debating with Dr Kerryn Phelps (who ironically is Jewish).  A classy call that one Mr Wallace.  Clearly so well educated.

I hope Ms Gillard has never heard the phrase 'I'll beat you like a red head stepchild', a phrase born in the American South in regard to illegitimate children.  They did love their slaves in the South.

Power to Ms Gillard, red head slaves were actually more valuable in price than non read heads.

But it's literally absurd in this day and age to imagine our Prime Minister's hair colour should determine her price as a slave.... or a witch.

It's actually ABSURD and offensive to recall the day there even WERE slaves.

It's absurd and offensive to recall the day women were not equal to men and one day if I can marry and give a safe and loving home to a child, they will look back on the day when I was considered not equal and think..... how ABSURD!

How ABSURD and OFFENSIVE!

We are EQUAL.  You are EQUAL!  Thank you Jackie Frank and thank you Marie Claire.

A x

THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK!

Drive it like you stole it!

oh yeah, and um........................

LOVE thy neighbour!

EQUAL LOVE!

Kylie and the Queen STEP BACK IN TIME

I like things such as social media and blogs to happen in real time, otherwise I feel like I'm commenting on yesterday's news.  How ironic that yesterday's news is as English as fish and chips but lacked the sparkle or quality of a diamond or a diamond jubilee.

It has taken me this long since watching Kylie's performance at the Queen's Jubilee Royal Arena Spectacular to pick my jaw back up off the floor.  As someone who professionally enjoys to sink their teeth into a creative concept or brief, I can't for the life of me figure out what Kylie's creative director was thinking when they sunk what I imagine to be their old false teeth into this performance.

The concert was in celebration of the Queen's 60 year reign and maybe this explain why the stylist chose an outfit Kylie might have actually worn 60 years ago.  The buttons as a statement feature literally popped, and genuinely served to remind me of the Pussy Cat Doll's fourth single off their PCD album.... aptly titled Buttons.  I think PCD was released in like the 90's or something, this might be the tie in reference for the 90's choreography by the female back up dancers.

Let's give a shout out to those female dancers.  With the Daily Mail rumouring the worldwide Jubilee audience could exceed a billion (BILLION not a MILLION, that's 'The Voice' nightly audience times 500) it genuinely takes courage to wear a hat inspired by the feathered head dresses worn by the queens horses (and all the queens men) when pulling the royal carriage.  Clearly it was these hats and their equestrian reference that inspired the girls silver harness detailing and must have been the reason behind pulling out ye ole 90's favourite dance step 'the pony'.  The pony dance step can often be seen at Eisteddfods in the pre-teen age groups and was a favourite amongst choreographers between 1989-1996.

I personally have never considered dressing my female talent in a baggy silver pair of shorts.  Being such a bold and rarely seen before fashion choice, perhaps it was a smart move to somewhat disguise them beneath a knee length skirt.  The queen would dig this fashion choice and agree it was 'blooming marvellous' because at 86 years old, all of her skirts are knee length too.

I would have spent a little more time rehearsing Kylie's onstage dramatic costume change.  The old favourite 'throw of a jacket offstage' was a massive hit during both Frank Sinatra and the Queen's hey day, but I would have worked a little harder to ensure the camera didn't close up on Kylie's shoulder area and her Spanx Shapewear the newly revealed corset was not designed to cover.

And what a corset it was!  The design of this was appreciated by two whole new demographics, neither of which is the Queen's age.  Young GAGA fans would have saluted their union jack flags to the bra strap pearl necklace reference and the young at heart Madonna fans would have loved it's salute to Madonna's cone bra (and what an era that was)!

I really would have liked our Kylie to have BYO'd a set or a water fountain...... or ....... a water fountain and a set but maybe she didn't cause the set would have got ruined if it happened to rain at the Queen's jubilee celebration of her 60 year reign.

It's was certainly obvious by the mid section of Kylie's performance that her hit 'Step Back in Time' was ultimately the inspiration for all of these choices.

I'm very glad the Queen arrived in time to see Kylie.  I mean she arrived fashionably late.  A whole 90 minutes fashionably late missing Jessie J, Grace and Tom Jones (don't know that couple), Cheryl Cole and Cliff Richard's salute to the England's love of canned salmon.  But she had planted her box in her royal box just in time to see our Pop Princess.

I hope Kylie didn't notice the Queen was literally wearing yellow ear plugs during her well thought out performance.  A little fashion advice for Elizabeth, nude and skin toned shoes lengthen the leg and nude or skin toned ear plugs are less visible by the entire world's media.

DISCLAIMER: a heartfelt apology to Master Craig Dimples

Hey princess, have a seat queen!

Have a seat princess.  In 60 years we can all eat cake!

I couldn't sit in the same chair for 60 years.  I'm a theatre lover and even by the end of act one my arse needs to get up during interval, stretch my legs, grab a drink, sit in a different chair, look at different faces, talk to a million people and tell them what I really think before returning to that same theatre chair to spend the remainder of act 2 swapping my weight from waxed cheek to cheek, crossing and uncrossing alternating legs.  All the while, probably due to my fidgety appearance, I might be looking a little disinterested in the theatrics in front of me, but genuinely I could be quite enjoying the spectacle.... just not enjoying sitting in the same chair.

I actually couldn't even look at the same chair for 60 years.  I recall taking an antique French side table to be spray painted high gloss white by the car paint man.  I then organised holes to be cut along the back of the newly painted table top to allow for insertion of halogen up-lights.  These lights were utilised to create a new mood and atmosphere in the living room.  They illuminated the purpose-built-to-scale new mirror hanging above whose frame wasn't allowed to be PAINTED white, but instead had to be sent to the same car paint sprayer to allow for continuity in the whites (especially when lit).  If I was the one having to look at it for the next few years, it had to be to my exact specifications, otherwise I certainly couldn't look at it for 5 minutes, let alone 60 years.

I certainly couldn't allow someone else to decide the style or colour of the chair I might be required to sit in for 60 years.  I called three meetings trying to decipher whether the fabric on my preferred sofa was the correct tweed.  Does this tweed say who I am?  Does this tweed project who I aspire to be?  Does this tweed suit my lifestyle and more importantly suit the already photographed and mood boarded elements I'd so far purchased to decorate my new bachelor pad?  Under no circumstances could I allow someone else to decide such an important decision for me.

So to any queen out there mid-twenties, if you're on holidays in Kenya acting like a little princess and you get an email to say your dad's left you a chair and he wants you to go sit on it for as long as bloody possible and you manage to sit on it for 60 bloody years.... we should throw you a rockin' party and give everyone who has watched you sit on that chair a day off work and let them eat cake.  The day off work would be to celebrate your GAGA poker face and the cake would be a sweet consolation prize cause MAYBE you didn't even like the look of that uncomfortable old chair in the first place.

TFTW: You are what you eat!

ice cream!

I am what I eat?  Well then I'm a fluid retentive sponge of MSG and preservatives (could explain why I appear so over tanned at times and why my face never used to move).

I wish I was prime beef.... saucy! 

$7,500 in parking fines?!

I'd NEVER park in a disabled park like THIS 'ducking from my iPhone' camera man, but
NO STOPPING has MY name ALL over it!

I stumbled across a parking fine reminder notice.

Parking fines enter my life with a frequency far greater than I care to admit in such a public forum.  One might be correct in assuming that parking fines find their way to me like a lone nail on your drive way which miraculously, undoubtedly and skilfully will navigate its way into your rear drivers side tyre like a fresh white bird shit to your newly cleaned windscreen.... it's just second nature and a prerequisite of the inner city CBD Eastern suburb lifestyle I chose.

I pride myself on being an exceptionally sensible driver (it takes skill to ALWAYS find that lone nail).

I'm a stickler for the on road rules, an over-user of my indicator, and when our lanes need to merge I'm the type of driver who is more than happy to give way to your car like a seamlessly executed Disney Main Street parade of car lights (shock horror people, if we ALL let in just ONE car, chances are 99.9999999999999% probable we're ALL going to arrive at our chosen destination at EXACTLY the same time, however should we NOT let in that one car I can pretty much guarantee 100% we're all going to arrive at out chosen destinations at EXACTLY the same time BUT with far higher blood pressure and a distaste for the world far greater than my putrid distaste for the fact there quite literally appears be bloody nowhere to park in my postcode and surrounding locale!).

.... end rant!

While I certainly have mastered the fine art of the Sydney road and the metropolitan driving experience, my skill re l'parking d'extravaganza (that's French for "where the faaark do we paaark in the faaarking city mate?") leaves an awful lot to be desired.

You see, I'm that driver who is always pulling into the NO STOPPING zone.

It's not that I don't understand the meaning of the sign.  I have a wonderful grasp of the English word and it's meaning.  English is actually my first language (it's actually my ONLY language, so I genuinely have a finer grasp of the English language than that of say, if the sign was written in Italian, or German or Chinese or...... you get the drift).

So I clearly understand NO STOPPING means: 


"thinking of stopping here darling......? well, the answer unfortunately is literally no, please don't stop here darling!"

But the problem is, while council on paper suggests that the answer should be NO, there appears to be literally no other option available to me as to where I CAN stop.  And it is because of this, and because of a number of other reasons that I am of the opinion that I shouldn't be fined for stopping here and HERE'S some of the reasons why.......

I paid for this road, so I'll stop wherever the hell I wanna stop!  

Remember when you were a kid and your parents said:

"when you pay your own rent and own your own house, then you can live by your own rules, until then while we're paying your rent and you're living in our house you'll live by OUR rules."

Well my tax dollars payed for this damn road!

I actually had to get outta bed, go to work, chase the money via invoice from my clients, allow the money time to clear in my bank account.  After which I had to ensure I didn't spend the money (that's the REALLY hard bit) and then I had to transfer the same money off to our government by their set timeline so that they could use my hard earned cash to buy us some roads.

I'm not exactly sure which roads they used my money to buy, but just like not knowing exactly which road is mine we can't be EXACTY sure which road ISN'T mine.  So there's actually a percentage possibility that the government or council has stuck a NO STOPPING sign on a road I might ACTUALLY own.... without my permission!  I could sue them over that sign for vandalism of my road.

..... but only if I actually knew which road was mine.  But I'm still looking into that.

Also.....

After I already bought some roads with my tax money, THEY have the nerve to charge me nearly $1,000 EVERY YEAR for some pretty sticker to stick on my car.

I don't really think that sticker is worth $1K (and I spend alot on shoes).  So when I enquired as to why it should be priced so extravagantly, the reply I received was that this was a tax to help fund road construction and maintenance.  Ironic really cause I thought I already paid my taxes to buy the first road.  And here they are charging me AGAIN to pay to build ANOTHER new road and to maintain the road I ALREADY paid for.

And yet they had the nerve to vandalise my first road with that NO STOPPING sign?

.... that's a bit rich!

I hear on the grapevine very soon we won't have to buy these stickers.  But they're still gonna charge me the nearly $1K?!  And I don't even get the coloured sticker?!  Random?!

Also....

My name is Adam Williams and having already mentioned my great grasp on the English language, there's a large probability I actually own William Street!

(Adam "WILLIAMS" / "WILLIAM S"treet).

If you live in Sydney you will be VERY aware of this street.  It's a VERY popular street (and if I'm not 100% sure which street is mine, there's a slight comfort in the fact I might actually own one of the more popular streets...... it's an insecurity thing.)

Now a couple of years ago, they took out a number of lanes on William St.  They say this was to allow for parking and to beautify the street with greenery.  More parking?!  How kind!

They lied.  There's about 10 new parks (10 car parks in exchange for two lanes of traffic is NOT an exciting ratio) and approximately 6 sad looking trees (a tree should never be described as sad.... unless you're THESE trees).

Rather conveniently (for some international privately owned company) at exactly the same time William St HALVED in size.... the Cross City Tunnel opened.

How lucky are we??!!  The main route to the CBD became bottlenecked and low and behold we had another way to get there (well strangely, it wasn't really another way to get there, it was a way to bypass our city COMPLETELY.... ironic really considering half our population needs to get TO the city every day.... not PASSED it!  But that's a whole other blog post!)

Unfortunately the tunnel that sorta goes nowhere cost $4.70.

But what's $4.70 between friends?

$4.70 one way = $9.40 return
$9.40 x 6 working days per week = $56.40 per week
$56.40 per week x average of 48 working weeks in a year = $2,707.20


$2,707.20 a year per person???!!!  Starting to look a bit like a tax really isn't it?  Except this tax doesn't go to our government, the rumour mill has THIS faux tax going to a man in another country.  Does this mean I own roads in another country too?

I might be an internationally acclaimed road owner.  Sorta sounds glamorous.  Like everything glamorous, glamorous is appearing VERY expensive!

Also....

If you're lucky enough to be able to get where you need to go, once you get there you gotto put money in these little machines and RENT the time you can park there!

But I might OWN this street.  Why should I rent from MYSELF?!

To be honest, I'm actually prepared to put this money in and rent these car parks cause as I've already explained, these parks are bloody hard to find......  but more often than NOT, there isn't a car park available to rent!

So I pull up in a NO STOPPING zone.

And then I get a $201 fine.

Which I am meant to pay to the magic parking God whose job it was to put the parks on the street in the first place (on the street which I might actually own).

And he DIDN'T!

He didn't put enough parks on this street, so then HE fines me $201 for not being able to find a park

CAUSE HE DIDN'T PUT ENOUGH PARKS THERE!!!!

It really makes no sense.

So when I stumbled across that parking fine reminder notice and I rang up to see if I'd missed the due date and thus whether it had increased in fee..... the automated voice told me that I could pay up to $7,500 in fines in one transaction.  How convenient for me!

I don't actually have $7,500 in unpaid fines (YET), but clearly SOMEONE does!

So that means someone else out there thinks they shouldn't have to pay their fines EITHER.

Is it you?

Agree or disagree?

Please don't make me feel like a lonely car space in a dark scary corner of an undesirable car parking station.  Please park your arse here and tell me what you really think?!

VERY muscle Mary un-birthday to you!

It takes balls to do this shit!

At approximately 5.30pm AEST this afternoon, my little baby blog officially turns one week old.

It wasn't a hard labour... it practically just fell out!

fell out of where?

Loose I hear you say?

Loose lips!

My loose lips

I'm widely known in certain circles for my wealth of self proclaimed expertise on so many topics and my verbal diarrhoea has been the star attraction of many a'dinner party (the star, definitely not the romantic lead).  So to commit the crime of having 'too much to say' to paper (or to keyboard in this case) was actually far easier than getting knocked up, waiting for nine months, eating shitloads and pushing, pushing, pushing.

Couldn't include pics of our Top Models getting knocked up, so have included pics of them eating shitloads.... wouldn't you if your best friend kept walking in the Chanel show!

I keep mentioning Chanel.... here's my Karl Lagerfeld impression

Well maybe I have been eating shitloads.... but I far more enjoy 'pulling'.

I look back over the last week with great pride.  Look how my little baby has grown.  I have fed her with words, ideas and random thoughts and in return nearly 2,000 people have popped in to see how she's developed and what she is up to.

Three wise men have not turned up with presents for my baby.

I found one wise man

But two wise blogging women have given me the priceless gift of endorsement (shout out to Mrs Woog and Edanland) and in this current climate, an endorsement from a god like NIKE (or Mrs Woog or Edanland) is far more valuable than the gift of Frankincense or Myrrh..... I mean what the hell are Frankincense and Myrrh?  They're incense, like the ones available at the $2 shop for less than $2, they're those things you burn to make your house smell like a hippie lived there.... who wants to live where a hippie would live (who wants to SMELL like a hippie?)!

I don't love everything my little baby blog has done in her whole week life time, however like a true parent my love is unconditional.

Here I am even loving myself unconditionally

Even I get a little shocked at how transparent she's been on some quite personal topics, but I think in time she will learn to keep some of her thoughts to herself and only share those that won't get anyone into trouble.

I think my baby blog might be a little bit superficial.

Oh the shock!  Are you calling ME superficial? 

I mean pictures of diamond watches, Louis Vuitton luggage, $25K couture dresses and $10K handbags in shocking pink covering private parts and man jewels.... it's all a touch vulgar.  But babies learn from their parents and my babies daddy is just a touch superficial too.

Who's your daddy?!

I'm rather impressed that my baby blog isn't a name dropper.  She has access to some very high profile movers and shakers, but very few names have been dropped in order to impress (if you drop a name, sometimes you gotto bend over to pick it up).

If I began blogging 5yrs ago, woulda mentioned my bestie Paris (she's done a lot of bending over, sometimes to pick things up)

I sometimes wish my baby blog would comment on topics that are relevant and totally current.  But she's only just coming on one week old, who really would care what her thoughts on the current NASDAQ position are, or whether Facebook's unattractive share price is a Morgan Stanley masterminded conspiracy to place billions in Mark Zuckerberg's pocket (I mean are you suggested Master Zuckerberg is a common thief, like he'd steal your idea or something.... what would give you that impression?).

But my baby blog is giving it a go, and if there's anything I've learnt in my 20-something year lifetime, giving it a go is far more important than just sitting idle and waiting for a blog to magically write itself.

Me standing idle waiting for my blog to magically write itself.

Yes, twenty-something!  There I said it!

Spank you VERY much for reading, and thank you VERY much Mrs Woog who taught me if she can be bothered setting up the actual page for you, the least you can do is turn up to your laptop and write something.... anything.  Maybe you won't change a life, but maybe you will give someone some shit giggles for two minutes of their life.... and let's be honest, sometimes the other 23hrs and 58mins can be full of enough OTHER shit!

Hope you enjoyed this two minutes of shit!

Love A x