Merry Xmmmmmmmmmmmmmaaaaaaaassssss.

I hope Santa emptied his bulging sack into your stocking, um er so to speak, and your day was filled with joy, laughter and little Tiffany boxes.

As for me, well for the Ashtons this year Xmas was pretty much cancelled.

Not in any sort of bah-humbug kinda way, just in a my sister is getting married on the 6th January kinda way and so we all can't be bothered.

I rang her a week before Xmas and said: "Uhhhh, have you got me a present? Coz I haven't got you one and if not, well, let's just not hey? You're getting married which is SOOOOO much more important than me spending $30 on a Cook Book don't you think?"

Luckily she agreed and I saved $30, kerching!

I also didn't arrive in the den of evil, oh sorry Christchurch, till Xmas night at 8pm so my parents didn't even have a tree up. So as I say, Xmas is cancelled. The flight was about $100 cheaper so I thought screw it, even if I won't be at the Dux de Lux on Xmas Eve for the first time in 7 years and therefore not find a random man to tongue pash in the Botanical Gardens, I'll save money.

And it wasn't just me saving money.

As I was flying on Xmas Day I would have thought that Air NZ might make some sort of festive effort. But Ebeneezer Airlines didn't even dish out a mince pie. I know times are tight in the airline industry but a bit of tinsel might have been nice. Some of the groundstaff made an effort with wobbly alien antennae with reindeer on top, or the occasional Santa Hat. BUT a splosh of eggnogg and a piece of nougat wouldn't have gone astray.....tightwads.

However I did have a lovely Xmas Dinner at my mates' place in Mt Eden. The happy couple got a Kylie calendar from me which sent them both into a camp tizzy of excitement and I got a nice religious ring with a celebratory pic of a man being tortured on a cross. Some people call it a crucifix but I call it S&M. We then guzzled back copious quantities of wine, fizzy and otherwise and I ate a trifle that had so much sherry in it my liver is now pickled.

The next celebration is New Year's in Tata Beach, Golden Bay way and then the wedding.

There the challenges will be to stop my Dad gorging on quality wine and then insisting on singing "Tonight I celebrate My Love for You" as my sister walks down the aisle, AND stopping one of uncles from trying to tongue pash my friend as he attempted to do at my 21st.

Ahhhhhh family. I'll keep you posted.

Holy crap if this week hasn't gone fast!

Sorry to my faithful three readers for being slack but as you're all fully immersed in the silly season of getting pissed, pashing that guy from three cubicles down and photocopying your arse, you're probably feeling like me.

Turned out my computer was fine, just had a wee moment with itself to reflect on life, the universe and everything and then came back to me. If I were a hippy I would say it was because I loved it and set it free, but I'm not so I'll just say it's a dumbass piece of technological crap. No HP's for me ever again except in sauce.

SO now I'm furiously designing my new poster for the new show and desperately trying to get work done as opposed to chatting on Skype, MSN, Myspace or a combination of all three.

I mean really, once upon a time we used to talk to each other face to face and now most of my discussions are done in pixel form. I was asked to be a bridesmaid on MSN, my friend just told me he was engaged on Skype and I've text "fancy a shag" numerous times.

Soon our vocal chords will cease to evolve due to lack of use. I'll go to say "I'd like a Diet Coke with my McChicken Feast Pack please" and a weird beeping sound will come out instead. Luckily due to excessive playing of Pacman in his youth the counter guy will understand.

OK OK so in reality I guess this might not happen, for a start any McDonalds counter guy would view PS2 as old technology in computer games, but more than that I would still be using my vocal chords when the shag came around after he received the text to say such encouraging things as; " it doesn't matter it happens to everyone", "no not even by accident" and "OOh OOh OOh digger put your stingray barb in my kangaroo pouch."

Obviously I'm full of shit.

I think I might just IM my friend in Vancouver to tell him all about it.

Nice.

FFFUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKKK!

SO after extolling the virtues of Wi-Fi on my laptop in Hong Kong, I get home to NZ and boot it up to......NOTHING. AAArrggghhhhhhh, the FL converter or somesuch on the screen has crapped itself like an epileptic and gone fut. (Relax I am epileptic, I can say that.)

On my flattie's computer now and the online forums mention the FL bizzo so will have to get it fixed. Worst possible timing as I was planning on getting a new one in 4 months or so when I had time to research it properly and not in the middle of producing three season of work.

CCUUNNTTTT.

OK feeling better now, not having to use asterisks is making me happy. Cunty Cunt Face! Arse poo-knuckles of felching wangers.

OK slightly better now.

Apart from that final 12 hr flight not so good. Didn't get as much sleep BUT an ex-school buddy was the trolley dolley so I got a few perks in the form of a toothbrush, an eye-mask, some ear-plugs and a glass of bubbles before take-off.

Rock and Roll!

My Super Ex-Girlfriend wasn't as bad as I anticipated but saccharine Aussie drama about imaginary friends called Opal Dreams was a bit arse. Nice chicken meal but morning omlette a bit of a let-down.

Wow bet all three of you are riveted by that, I think it's time to gibber into delirium watching kids TV.

OOOhhh what's through the round window.

Hello from Hong Kong airport.

12 hours in and 12 to go before it's Aotearoa and I had to plug this lovely airport with its lovely free wi-fi.

It's a far cry from being herded like cattle in LA and finger-printed and corneally scanned then sat in a hideous vintage waiting room with floury apples to eat.

I also have to say Pirates of the Carribean 2 is a load of shite. It's just an excuse for a sequel and a badly realised one at that. Having said that Johnny is still hot and Orlando is still beautiful and Keira is still a rake.

Joyeaux Noel however is a beautiful flick about Germans, Scots and French troops putting down their weapons and having a Xmas together in 1914. Don't you just love those movies that make you bawl like a baby on a flight and so arrive at your destination looking even more puffy and retarded.

Still better than screaming like a baby which makes everyone else arrive looking the same. Sometimes infanticide aint such a bad thing.

Happy to report that the braised Lamb was quite tasty and that calories in the air don't count.

Choice.

OH and I guess it's about time for this:

A Kiwi Xmas
Twas the Night before Xmas and all through the bach
Not even a weta was making a scratch
Woolly socks were hung by the pot belly with care
In the hopes that Santa soon would be there
The children were snoozing in a light summer's breeze
Whilst dreaming of pudding and lime green cream freeze
And dad in his walk shorts and I in my jandals
Had just settled down for a couple of handles
When out on the lawn I heard such a ruckus
I sprang from my Lazy Boy to see what the fuss was
I ran to the sliding door, gasping and wheezing
Threw open the curtains and upped the venetians
The moon on the sand and the Trailer tarp
Lit he beach up just like Eden Park
But still when I saw, I thought I was asleep
A miniature Kingswood, pulled by 8 tiny sheep
With a little old driver, sipping a Fanta
I knew in a moment, it had to be Santa
Faster than Phar Lap on steroids they came
And he coo-eed and shouted and called them by name
Now, Kevin! now, Sharlene! now, Rangi and Beck!On, Darryl! On Shazza! on, Bilbo and Shrek!
To the top of the Pagoda, to the top of the wall
Get in behind, Get in behind, Get in behind, All!
As sandflies around a bar-b-que fly
When they sniff the sizzlers and take to the sky
So up to the top of the bach they flew
With a boot full of toys and Santa Claus too
With a handbrake stop, they arrived on the roof
4 Goodyear tyres and 32 hoofs
And as I quickly turned and ran to the lounge
Out from the chimney Santa came with a bound
He was wearing boardshorts, and gumboots on foot
And his Mambos were covered in six-month-old soot
A bundle of toys he had on his back
As if on OE with a brand new Macpac
He looked like he’d come from the beauty parlour
With rosy red cheeks like pohutakawa
A gorgeous big grin and white as white hair
With wee little tufts growing out of his ears
He had a broad chest and a round beer gut
That shook when he laughed like Jabba the Hutt
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly hobbit
And I laughed when I saw him, I couldn’t stop it
He gave me a wink and a bonza thumbs up
And I quickly realised he wasn’t a nut
He went straight to the socks without saying a thing
And filled them with barbies and Shrek 2 keyrings
Then giving his nose a jolly good scratch
He flew up the chimney with an almighty flash
He jumped in the Kingswood and cranked the ignition
And then they took off, like some NASA mission
But I think I could hear, as he drove out of sight
“Merry Christmas to all, have a bloody good night!”



Merry YMCA

Well hello from pissing it down rainy London.

Won't be long till I'm back in pissing it down rainy Auckland so hooray for that.

Tour ended on Thursday night in Bristol with a good sized yet rather subdued crowd who wanted all squishy mushy stuff. Luckily I had some of that in the dark recesses of my mind and abandoned the cunty cunt face poem I was going to do.

I prefer the cunty cunt myself but that could have something to do with me being single.

It worked well though and Australasia got second! Woohooooo, still bottom of the table but nice to make it to a second at one stage. Not total losers after all.

From there it was a little bit of an emotional farewell at various bus and train stations and I journeyed back to London and leafy green Willesden Green.

For the next four days I have basically done NOTHING and it's been marvellous. I have a mountain of work waiting at home in the form of Publicity for the new show, marketing for the new show...oh and um yeah, writing the new show so i have soaked up the couch time here greedily.

My friend has Sky so all day I've wallowed in ER and Scrubs re-runs along with Celebrity Dancing with the Top Model Circus Monkeys with the Y Factor Idol. (They seriously have Cirque du Celebrite here where wannabes and has beens don lycra unitards and whack their nuts on roller bollers all presided over by Ruby Wax with a shit script. Genius.)

We did venture out from time to time. We braced Christmas on Oxford St briefly, which if you've never experienced is a process whereby you go all mushy over the pretty lights before being stampeded by a rampaging hoard of sale-seeking missiles with glazed expressions all gibbering about their upcoming giblets. Not fun, well maybe a bit, but only in small doses.

The highlight though of this brief London sojourn was on Saturday night when we hit the West End and headed to Avenue Q.

For those not in the know Avenue Q is a bit like Sesame St but with more puppet fellatio and gay angst. Yes it's a revamping of the children's show complete with fabulous songs like; "Everyone's a Little Bit Racist" and "The Internet is for Porn" and has hilarious lines like when the Gary Coleman character declares; "I haven't had this much fun since I sued my parents!"

It was genius and the puppet sex scene, including cowgirl riding and hand guided blow-jobs will be seared in my memory forever. As will the Bert-esque character coming out to the Ernie-esque after being made homeless. Ahhhhh laugh, how we did.

Then on Sunday I headed to a Switch and Bitch party. This is where a group of girls got together to give away clothes they didn't want anymore, drink wine and eat cake. I gained a dress, a skirt, a jacket and a kilo. More genius.

Today after I finally get out of my PJ's (1pm is a perfectly reasonable time to get dressed) I'll be flying back to Aotearoa, so leave the light on and the door unlocked, I'm coming home.

Hello from the seat of learning and buggery that is Oxford.

Last night we played to a packed house at the Zodiac Bar and I was third again...just. SO nearly second AND so nearly fourth BUT a brilliant gig with loads of people. The night before in Brighton was also a brilliantly packed gig with great atmosphere. It's great these gigs are picking up and are a far cry from the 7 or so people in Leicester or the black hole of energy sucking that was Nottingham.

Not a lot else to report except that the UK is FUCKED when it comes to wine. Well many things are fucked here, no need for cultural cringe Kiwis let me tell you and as such can you imagine walking into a bar in NZ and asking for a wine list to be told "we have red or white"?

OK OK I can't speak for Huntly but otherwise you'd be laughed back to 1975.

And last night was even better.

I asked; "so do you just have red or white?" to be told "no we only have red"!!! I mean really. I ordered it anyway, from a barman who incidentally was obviously taking a brief break from his existentialist philosophy degree and moved at the speed of Britney Spears to a MENSA meeting, and it was a passable drop, but it was no Wither Hills let me tell you.

Still Wither Hills is near Blenheim (I believe) and I don't think they would turn out 100 people to a performance poetry event so I'll stop complaining.

But only briefly.

xo

Kia Ora!

I have 4 minutes so I'll be brief.

Hello from sunny Brighton, I think I saw the sun for 2.3 minutes today. Seaside resort my ass.

Scotland was motherfucking freezing. BUT I managed to keep warm in Glasgow with physical exercise.

I was smiling all day.

Tonight we play Komedia, a great venue to hopefully a great crowd.

Oh and Australasia is still bottom of the table, we nearly made second again last night, but why break with tradition.

xxxooo

Hello from the easy internet cafe in Glasgow. No that's not a place for loose chicks to hang out, but a nice chain of cheap internet in the UK.

We hit the bonny land of Scotland yesterday but as we had last night off we headed to a nice weeeee pub for a traditional meal. I dined on a Stovie, which is a kind of stew involving no offal whatsoever. It may seem weird but the stomach of a cow is not what I consider the best cooking vessel.

Then Sonya and I hit headed to a groovey pub where there were a lot of very pretty Scottish men making unintelligable statements I presume was English but can't be too sure. BUT when we decided to head to another pub everything had bloody shut.

So much for hard partying Glasgow, everything was closed at 12am! Except the clubs of course and so we were herded into a mini-van where we were guranteed free entry to a place called Madness. I wasn't all that hopeful given that most members of the van were missing some teeth and pushing 50, and on arrival I was vindicated in my expectations.

It was hideously hilarious. Santaettes dancing on the bars with the most bored expressions doing choreographed routines to April Sun in Cuba etc.. Think the Palladium c1994, think Leftfield c2001, think Rain c2002 and you get the idea. And if you're not in Auckland, Wellington or ChCh, just think low class, low cut, white pants and bacardi breezers.

Yes I am a raging snob.

Newcastle went well and I got to catch up with my mates from when I was there in May which was lovely. My first poem totally tanked but the latter one made up for it, but after getting the lowest score yet I didn't have a catholic's chance in hell of getting anywhere.

Ahh well.

Wish me luck for tonight!

Wooooohoooo, I just found out I got accepted into the Canadian Edmonton Fringe Festival and that excites me very much. So North America, look out, here I come!

In the mean time the north of England and Scotland need to brace themselves as the Four Continents Slam is rolling into town.

Bolton was a wonderful crowd. Very rock and roll and my Catholic Bashing Poem went down a treat which was nice.

We then headed to Nottingham which was a cute city but a shit gig. Black hole of energy, nice people but they sucked in everything we gave them and gave nothing back. Art wanky way of saying my least favourite gig so far.

I am currently luxuriating in the beautiful Kate Fox's house in Newcastle where I'm about to have a meal provided before we take off to the gig. How nice.

Oh and if you're curious we're still last, though we were 0.1 off making the final last night! Hooray for the losers.

xxoo