Wellington, Punk

Yes, this Friday there was karaoke … Barracuda! Bootylicious! Drop it like its hot! It was murder on the dancefloor at Christchurch Idol.

SS and I had a pleasant trip up north to Wellington and Porirua -stayed with Shane’s dad, met Sarah’s lovely Graeme and visited cafes, shops and the City Art Gallery.

This lovely Music World lady was decorating Shane’s dad shed. Some more lovely 1980s time capsule moments there.

Out there on the internet:

The beautiful people

Other good stuff:

Tiny Happy – lovely crafty blog

New discovery – Joseph Cornell assemblage artist

I don’t care about the slammin reviews, I want to see The Happening, and ace horror writer Kim Newman reverses the trend (I haven’t read this yet cos I don’t want spoilers).

And I still love The The (Matt Johnson). Best band name ever, and music that still gets me.

The Ngata English/Maori dictionary has this rather nice sentence to explain the word prostitute (kairau):
She worked as a prostitute to support her children. He kairau a ia kia ora ai ana tamariki. Something kind of PC and practical about that as a definition.

Want to have a photo in the Tate Gallery and in a book? Of course!

stage, radio, film, photos – a right show-off of a week

For someone who was going to karaoke as a spectator, I ended up singing a frightening array of tunes:

don’t it make your brown eyes blue (well, red more like)
knock on wood
it’s raining men
black velvet
+ duets on
you’re the one that i want
we’ve got tonight
paradise by the dashboard light

woo ha.

+ was on radio this week getting interviewed
+ got filmed for some video thing for work
+ photos of me and buddies on wall of gym from a show we went to

weird amount of spotlight. back to normality now, and shy retiring persona returns.