Welcome to my blog where fear and phobias rule the day. My own phobias include, clowns, balloons popping, planes, planes crashing, planes filled with clowns crashing, planes filled with clowns holding balloons crashing....you get the general idea. Oh and although I love animals I hate them dressed up in clothes.
Other blogs that are friends of mine
My brother David
Sites I like
It's weird, it's funny, it's sad, it's beautiful, it's my favourite
He's weird; he's funny and another fave
Shameless self promotion type Kate Browne into search, cough up $1.65 and read some of my work
Sunday Life & SMH
Good astrology site us Pisces people are believers (when it suits us that is)
Kate Brownes Pub
These guys defy description
Dean and Nigel
They are painfully cool and they like Duran Duran to boot
Monday, September 29, 2003
On Sunday for Emma’s birthday we had a picnic in the park. My flatmate Alexis brought along her bagpipes as a treat so she could play happy birthday. As expected it was very sweet, rather entertaining and quite impressive. What we didn’t count on was the hypnotic affect the bagpipes seem to have on little children. As Alexis played, small folk and every size and shape dressed up in everything from fairy costumes and pink faux fur coats to soccer uniforms appeared from all corners of the park drawn towards her in some weird modern version of the pied piper. They then formed a little half moon around her and stood there rapt as she played…only moving to applaud politely when she finished playing.
Every time I turned away to chat to someone and then turned back there would be more of them…It was like every house in Petersham had been emptied of little tackers who were drawn out by the bagpipes. The little audience then became more confident and started calling out requests such as happy birthday – which was performed. Then “Jingle Bells” – which was refused on the grounds that it was not Christmas time. Then magically, as soon as Alexis stopped playing and walked back to join our group, the children melted away as quickly as they had materialised.
She really should do kids parties – she could make a fortune.
Friday, September 26, 2003
Put a new top on and spent most of the morning wondering if it was okay as it was totally low cut and a bit booby for my liking, but what the hell it was a hot day.
Later that morning I was standing in the Swagmans waiting to get my coffee. This shortish guy in front of me turned around and copped an eyeful of my cleavage. He then looked up to meet my gaze and realised he was totally caught out. His response, (which I thought was pretty quick off the mark) was to smile at me and say "Nice top".
Yeah - whatever buddy....(though secretly I had to admire his ability to think on his feet!)
Saturday, September 20, 2003
My own fault
Maybe it was the deadline for this article I'm writing, maybe it's because I am a sucker for things that are "new" "different" "Unusual" but SOMETHING sent to McDonalds today for the first time in about nine years and I purchased a Vege Burger. It was, without doubt, one of the most disgusting things I have ever had the displeasure of consuming. A nasty combination of stale bread, sweet oily mayo, a piece of beetroot that has seen better days and not even one of those friggin gherkins that I quite like oh and this dried up chickpea kind of thing masquerading as a burger.
I guess I am old enough to know better, but now I sit here unhappy and with indigestion. Can't tell if the indigestion is from the revolting food or simply due to a bad case of the guilts for spending 5.50 with the evil MacDonalds empire........
Friday, September 19, 2003
Brunette or Blonde
Last night Simon told me that I write like a brunette...but talk like a blonde.
Thursday, September 18, 2003
A word on procrastination
I sleep, then think about writing feature article. Walk to shops in order to purchase nourishing food in order to fuel brain to write article. Stop at cafe to eat food and drink coffee in order to get in the mood. Come home and start to clean bedroom, decide now is a good time to rearrange shoes in clothing rack. Make phone calls to friends, leave house again in order to visit parents and make rudimentary inspection of new kitchen. Pat parents cat. Go home, via Fish records to purchase appropriate "writing music". return home 50 bucks later to get out laptop. Pat own cat. Feel sick, lie down for half and hour. decide to work at kitchen table. decided to clean up kitchen table before work can commence. Turn on laptop, find other not urgent article on desk top and tinker with it. Type a few words, feel sudden urge for a cigarette, back at the laptop. Phone rings, is interview subject, she is in the pub, am tortured by sounds of her drinking and smoking over the phone. Grab bottle of wine, pour large glass and keep talking....another wine, cigarette, more wine.....laptop now just being used for playing music.
Deadline looming - write grovelly email to Ed. Am saved for another two days - better celebrate. Will head to the pub.
Thursday, September 11, 2003
Went to the premiere of a new Aussie Film called travelling light. It was….sigh….as often Aussie movies are…..not that much to write home about. But the good news was that it was set in Adelaide in 1971 and I was loving all the 70’s appliances and clothes.
After the movie came the after party. God I thought performing arts people were bad (anti social, dressed in all black, trendy little black glasses) but film people...jesus... it was all girls in plunging dresses whose boobs were threatening to fall out at any given second, air kisses, lots of conversations with people looking for someone more important / more interesting to talk to over each others shoulders….. very funny and quite depressing. Sad thing was most of these 'stars' were washed up ex soapie people. tragic.
Only highlight for me was getting to stand at the bar next to Alex Lloyd. He is quite cute up close, I think it’s because of his freckles.
Apart from that it was all a bit of a fizzer. In fact I think I had more fun at dinner beforehand at Rossini’s where the Italian waiters fussed over me, insisting on carrying my bags, fetching me wine, insisting I must be Italian, and pretending to be heartbroken when I stood up to leave. In fact they made me feel just like Sophia Loren. So next time I am in need of an ego boost I intend to go straight there and avoid the red carpet brigade entirely.
Monday, September 08, 2003
Yes this particular blog is going out specially for my friend Michael, possibly the only person that still stops in to read this little blog, and even he said he ws sick of looking in there and still seeing 17th June. So I have been shamed into action.
So here I am. And in an effort to get back to basics and really get back to what Panphobia is all about (which is a fear of everything or in my case my fear of cute fluffy animals dressed up) I would like to share with you a website of the what is being touted as the “worlds most famous dog”. For those of you who are not familiar with Mr Winkles work hang on to your hats you are in for a treat. Personally I think Mr Winkle could be the devil incarnate (but I am biased)