Hurricane Kevin Enjoys a Magharita
Daddy in Cancun
Backpacking Glamour, Mine was the Top Bunk
Isla Mujeres Clings to Its Palm Trees After Two Hurricanes
Tulum Ruins and the Carribean
Hahahahahaha
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
Well well well all good tours must come to an end, and as I sit in my cousin's guest room on a beautiful LA morning (are there any other) I can't believe four months has flown by so fast.
In 14 hours or so I fly back to the Land of the Long White Cloud and I can't wait to clap eyes on my tired Mitsubishi Galant, my gorgeous red bedroom and all my fabulous friends. I've loved being away but packing and unpacking 34 times in 120 days can take a toll on a girl's nail polish.
In that time I've visited 17 cities from Saskatoon to Cancun, taken ten flights (must buy some carbon credits), performed my show 36 times and drunk more beer than Homer Simpson at a work function.
I've already waxed hysterical on my performance tour, but as I was far too busy sucking back pina coladas and eating chocolate chicken in Mexico, you my three dear readers have remained in the dark about my travels like a mariachi with a too big sombrero, so let's start at the very principo.
I landed in Mexico City a month ago and then promptly failed to meet my Youth Hostels shuttle as I was standing at the wrong bank. In my defence TWO separate people told me I was in the right place so I choose to believe they were retarded and not me.
Mexico City is very cool, it has 20 million people and 40 million statues of Jesus for sale on the street. (Sidebar, in Mexico Jesus is in a lot more agony than other ones I've seen. His crucifixes are dripping in blood and gashes unlike our nicely sanitised ones which makes death by being nailed to a stake as irksome as a wee thorn in the side.)
It also has fine museums, nice parks, thankfully non-rabid stray dogs and men who rip you off when you go punting on the river. Luckily they also have women who float along in weeny boats next to you selling you Coronas on the river so my annoyance was nicely dulled. All in all I had a lovely time there and was bought beer by a group of International Earthquake Specialists who I managed not to ask; "Did the earth move for you," remarkable restraint I think.
From there I bussed off to Oaxaca, a gorgeous Colonial town where I partied hardy at a great Youth Hostel and where I met my travelling husband John. We were to see each other on again off again for three weeks thereby outlasting many Hollywood Marriages.
My next stop was Zipolite but not before a harrowing five hour bus ride on winding roads and overtaking on blind corners with a general cunt of a driver. I believe he has a bet on how many people he can make throw up on an average ride and I fear I was a statistic.
SIDEBAR - In Mexico you do not put the toilet paper down the toilet, oh no, instead you place it in a small bin next to the toilet. As such I anticipated that many toilets would make Quentin Tarantino's language seem clean. BUT I was generally pleasantly surprised at the state of hygiene in MOST situations. However when I tottered out of this bus looking for the Banos in a small cafe on top of a mountain my luck ran out. It was the bathroom equivalent of a teenagers bedroom, disgusting, smelly and with a thick layer of pubes. There was no way I was going to throw up in that toilet as the splash back would have been such a mixture of dysentery, herpes and cystitis that i would have been quarantined from NZ. So I did what any good Kiwi girl would do and barfed in the bushes. All fucking class me mate.
ANYWAY Zipolite was very relaxed EXCEPT the water was trying to kill me, the current in the water was pulling me so hard I should have sold admission for men to take a dip. What I did instead was some judicious swimming and hallelujah I was finally chilling on a beach. This was helped by the fact that a Chicken sandwich and a beer cost a mere $2.50 US. Choice.
Next stop was San Cristobal de las Casas, another gorgeous Colonial town where I go to know the afore-mentioned Nicaraguan Percussionist, and let's just say "He Banged". I also found some lovely jewellery there, ate a Greek meal in a Thai Restaurant, watched a didgeridoo and climbed two sets of stairs because they were there. Edmund Hilary would be proud, there was no other reason to climb them as the view from the top was shit. I also visited a Mayan Medicine Museum here and must remember to suggest using Black Spider Fangs to help my next boyfriend if he has swollen testicles. MMMMmmm.
After San Cristobal I ventured off to the fabulous Palenque ruins and the happeningist hippy place to stay - El Panchan, which is a groovy little cluster of places to stay just outside of town. I laid my hat in an establishment called The Jungle Palace and I loved it. I had a hut with only thick mesh for walls and a little stream tinkling behind it. It was a truly relaxing place to stay with cheap massages, cheap beers and cheap boys. (OK there weren't any of the latter but I was hoping.) It also had Howler Monkeys outside my window at 5am, THOUGH they should actually be called "Wake you up in a panic with their strangled screaming followed by weird guttural grunts" monkeys, and I'm glad I'd been warned about them first because if I'd just heard that out of the blue I may well have lost my refried beans in my pants. BUT apart from mental wildlife and spiders the size of my face living in the pooey paper basket by the toilet, I had a great time. Oh and yeah the ruins were fab too.
From there it was off to Tulum, the most beautiful Beach in Mexico that I saw ANNNND the most expensive. A diet Coke for $2.50 US??? Like fuck, I lasted here two days then headed to Isla Mujeres.
Isla was a special place for two friends of mine as they met there and are now married. I therefore slapped on my best Husband Luring outfit and camped out in the common room 24/7. Ahhhahahahah as if I'm that desperate to be married..........yes well, I did instead drink COPIOUS amounts of beer and cocktails there, and danced til 3 and 4am etc... for five nights and loved it. I made some lovely friends and then had to tear myself away to go and pick up my Dad.
Yes that's right Dad.
You see my mother was away finding herself in South America so my Dad decided, hey, why don't I go and bother my daughter on her Mexican Shag Fest. Luckily the Shag Fest was having as much success as Britney Spears in the Mother of the Year Competition so it wasn't too much of an imposition.
We then hung out for a week travelling to Merida, (fantastic outdoor weekend partying), Chichen Itza (Huge ruins where it pissed down with rain and Dad knocked a pile of T-Shirts into the Mud in a shop then ran away), Valladolid (another cute colonial town with underground caves where you swim in Bat crap as they twitter overhead), Playa Del Carmen (Nasty touristy place with a nice beach) and Cancun (where he had to continually say that I was NOT his second wife!).
I had a nice time bonding with Pops and needless to say my standard of accommodation improved drastically. "WHAT, bathroom in my room you say....air-conditioning you say...over $25US you say....I can flush my pooey paper you say....No WE ARE NOT married I say...." etc.. etc...
And so it wound to an end with our final night being a haze of Karaoke, margaritas and sunstroke, a very fitting end to a four month legendary tour I say.
So that's that, I'm coming home and may I say, I can't bloody wait!
Good on ya mates.
Final Sidebar - In Mexico you are constantly harrassed to buy stuff. "Buy my prayer bracelet...buy my beaded necklace...buy my snorkelling trip...buy my pooey paper basket..." etc etc. A lot of people, my father included, got immensely pissed off and frustrated with this BUT I just kept saying "No Gracias". You see I figured that these people earn so much less than me and I'm a bloody poet, so I don't mind them trying to make a peso off me, because they wouldn't be here if the foreigners weren't. We create the industry that so many tourists seem to hate simply by being there, so if you want to luxuriate on a beach and have lunch for $2.50, suck it up I say.
In 14 hours or so I fly back to the Land of the Long White Cloud and I can't wait to clap eyes on my tired Mitsubishi Galant, my gorgeous red bedroom and all my fabulous friends. I've loved being away but packing and unpacking 34 times in 120 days can take a toll on a girl's nail polish.
In that time I've visited 17 cities from Saskatoon to Cancun, taken ten flights (must buy some carbon credits), performed my show 36 times and drunk more beer than Homer Simpson at a work function.
I've already waxed hysterical on my performance tour, but as I was far too busy sucking back pina coladas and eating chocolate chicken in Mexico, you my three dear readers have remained in the dark about my travels like a mariachi with a too big sombrero, so let's start at the very principo.
I landed in Mexico City a month ago and then promptly failed to meet my Youth Hostels shuttle as I was standing at the wrong bank. In my defence TWO separate people told me I was in the right place so I choose to believe they were retarded and not me.
Mexico City is very cool, it has 20 million people and 40 million statues of Jesus for sale on the street. (Sidebar, in Mexico Jesus is in a lot more agony than other ones I've seen. His crucifixes are dripping in blood and gashes unlike our nicely sanitised ones which makes death by being nailed to a stake as irksome as a wee thorn in the side.)
It also has fine museums, nice parks, thankfully non-rabid stray dogs and men who rip you off when you go punting on the river. Luckily they also have women who float along in weeny boats next to you selling you Coronas on the river so my annoyance was nicely dulled. All in all I had a lovely time there and was bought beer by a group of International Earthquake Specialists who I managed not to ask; "Did the earth move for you," remarkable restraint I think.
From there I bussed off to Oaxaca, a gorgeous Colonial town where I partied hardy at a great Youth Hostel and where I met my travelling husband John. We were to see each other on again off again for three weeks thereby outlasting many Hollywood Marriages.
My next stop was Zipolite but not before a harrowing five hour bus ride on winding roads and overtaking on blind corners with a general cunt of a driver. I believe he has a bet on how many people he can make throw up on an average ride and I fear I was a statistic.
SIDEBAR - In Mexico you do not put the toilet paper down the toilet, oh no, instead you place it in a small bin next to the toilet. As such I anticipated that many toilets would make Quentin Tarantino's language seem clean. BUT I was generally pleasantly surprised at the state of hygiene in MOST situations. However when I tottered out of this bus looking for the Banos in a small cafe on top of a mountain my luck ran out. It was the bathroom equivalent of a teenagers bedroom, disgusting, smelly and with a thick layer of pubes. There was no way I was going to throw up in that toilet as the splash back would have been such a mixture of dysentery, herpes and cystitis that i would have been quarantined from NZ. So I did what any good Kiwi girl would do and barfed in the bushes. All fucking class me mate.
ANYWAY Zipolite was very relaxed EXCEPT the water was trying to kill me, the current in the water was pulling me so hard I should have sold admission for men to take a dip. What I did instead was some judicious swimming and hallelujah I was finally chilling on a beach. This was helped by the fact that a Chicken sandwich and a beer cost a mere $2.50 US. Choice.
Next stop was San Cristobal de las Casas, another gorgeous Colonial town where I go to know the afore-mentioned Nicaraguan Percussionist, and let's just say "He Banged". I also found some lovely jewellery there, ate a Greek meal in a Thai Restaurant, watched a didgeridoo and climbed two sets of stairs because they were there. Edmund Hilary would be proud, there was no other reason to climb them as the view from the top was shit. I also visited a Mayan Medicine Museum here and must remember to suggest using Black Spider Fangs to help my next boyfriend if he has swollen testicles. MMMMmmm.
After San Cristobal I ventured off to the fabulous Palenque ruins and the happeningist hippy place to stay - El Panchan, which is a groovy little cluster of places to stay just outside of town. I laid my hat in an establishment called The Jungle Palace and I loved it. I had a hut with only thick mesh for walls and a little stream tinkling behind it. It was a truly relaxing place to stay with cheap massages, cheap beers and cheap boys. (OK there weren't any of the latter but I was hoping.) It also had Howler Monkeys outside my window at 5am, THOUGH they should actually be called "Wake you up in a panic with their strangled screaming followed by weird guttural grunts" monkeys, and I'm glad I'd been warned about them first because if I'd just heard that out of the blue I may well have lost my refried beans in my pants. BUT apart from mental wildlife and spiders the size of my face living in the pooey paper basket by the toilet, I had a great time. Oh and yeah the ruins were fab too.
From there it was off to Tulum, the most beautiful Beach in Mexico that I saw ANNNND the most expensive. A diet Coke for $2.50 US??? Like fuck, I lasted here two days then headed to Isla Mujeres.
Isla was a special place for two friends of mine as they met there and are now married. I therefore slapped on my best Husband Luring outfit and camped out in the common room 24/7. Ahhhahahahah as if I'm that desperate to be married..........yes well, I did instead drink COPIOUS amounts of beer and cocktails there, and danced til 3 and 4am etc... for five nights and loved it. I made some lovely friends and then had to tear myself away to go and pick up my Dad.
Yes that's right Dad.
You see my mother was away finding herself in South America so my Dad decided, hey, why don't I go and bother my daughter on her Mexican Shag Fest. Luckily the Shag Fest was having as much success as Britney Spears in the Mother of the Year Competition so it wasn't too much of an imposition.
We then hung out for a week travelling to Merida, (fantastic outdoor weekend partying), Chichen Itza (Huge ruins where it pissed down with rain and Dad knocked a pile of T-Shirts into the Mud in a shop then ran away), Valladolid (another cute colonial town with underground caves where you swim in Bat crap as they twitter overhead), Playa Del Carmen (Nasty touristy place with a nice beach) and Cancun (where he had to continually say that I was NOT his second wife!).
I had a nice time bonding with Pops and needless to say my standard of accommodation improved drastically. "WHAT, bathroom in my room you say....air-conditioning you say...over $25US you say....I can flush my pooey paper you say....No WE ARE NOT married I say...." etc.. etc...
And so it wound to an end with our final night being a haze of Karaoke, margaritas and sunstroke, a very fitting end to a four month legendary tour I say.
So that's that, I'm coming home and may I say, I can't bloody wait!
Good on ya mates.
Final Sidebar - In Mexico you are constantly harrassed to buy stuff. "Buy my prayer bracelet...buy my beaded necklace...buy my snorkelling trip...buy my pooey paper basket..." etc etc. A lot of people, my father included, got immensely pissed off and frustrated with this BUT I just kept saying "No Gracias". You see I figured that these people earn so much less than me and I'm a bloody poet, so I don't mind them trying to make a peso off me, because they wouldn't be here if the foreigners weren't. We create the industry that so many tourists seem to hate simply by being there, so if you want to luxuriate on a beach and have lunch for $2.50, suck it up I say.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Well I´m a moron.
I am killing time currently in a ciber (sic) cafe in San Cristobel de las Casas as I missed my bus because I had left my passport and Traveller´s Cheques in my hostel´s safe.
Yes, moron.
At least I remembered before getting on the five hour bus ride to the jungle of Pelanque, but yeah dickhead.
I´m having a lovely time in Mexico, though since I have drunk cerveza nearly every single day since July, I am looking forward to hitting the gym when I return.
This is probably the first time I have travelled in a country where not many people at all speak english and it has made for entertaining charades. I have realised I know NADA Spanish and so have pulled faces, held up numerous fingers, asked Donde Esta xyz only to stare blankly when the babbling answer comes back to me with directions, haggled using a dictionary to get numbers and laughed rather a lot. All bueno fun.
I have been in VERY hot to very cold weather, eaten spicy and not so spicy food, drunk mojitos, pina coladas and corona, looked at Mayan Medicine museums, fought the waters of Zipolite that are trying to kill you constantly with its rip tides, chatted to travellers from all over the world and pashed a Nicuraguan Percussionist.
Life is good.
My Dad is arriving in a week. He decided he´d like to come to mexico and here he is determined to take over the Karoke Bars of the Yucutan Peninsula. It might scare off some more percussionists of Latino descent BUT I have a sneaking suspicion he won´t want to sleep in a dorm and might just pay the difference!
Fingers crossed!
I am killing time currently in a ciber (sic) cafe in San Cristobel de las Casas as I missed my bus because I had left my passport and Traveller´s Cheques in my hostel´s safe.
Yes, moron.
At least I remembered before getting on the five hour bus ride to the jungle of Pelanque, but yeah dickhead.
I´m having a lovely time in Mexico, though since I have drunk cerveza nearly every single day since July, I am looking forward to hitting the gym when I return.
This is probably the first time I have travelled in a country where not many people at all speak english and it has made for entertaining charades. I have realised I know NADA Spanish and so have pulled faces, held up numerous fingers, asked Donde Esta xyz only to stare blankly when the babbling answer comes back to me with directions, haggled using a dictionary to get numbers and laughed rather a lot. All bueno fun.
I have been in VERY hot to very cold weather, eaten spicy and not so spicy food, drunk mojitos, pina coladas and corona, looked at Mayan Medicine museums, fought the waters of Zipolite that are trying to kill you constantly with its rip tides, chatted to travellers from all over the world and pashed a Nicuraguan Percussionist.
Life is good.
My Dad is arriving in a week. He decided he´d like to come to mexico and here he is determined to take over the Karoke Bars of the Yucutan Peninsula. It might scare off some more percussionists of Latino descent BUT I have a sneaking suspicion he won´t want to sleep in a dorm and might just pay the difference!
Fingers crossed!
Friday, September 21, 2007
Ahhhh what you people reading this blog search for never ceases to amaze me. Welcome those who were looking for "pink beaver pics", "new zealand slang for tits" and "lindsie ward huge butt". I hope this tickles your fancy even if it doesn't necessarily tickle your pickle.
Moving on.
Well fuck me if it isn't all over rover.
2.5 months of Canadian Touring has flown by faster than a Paris Hilton Jail Sentence. I can hardly believe I've done five fringes, navigated across 5 provinces and performed my show 36 times BUT I have photographic evidence to prove it so it must be true.
I really did have an awesome time all the way across and it was capped off brilliantly with a rollicking final night bash in the Vancouver Fringe Club complete with gnashing of teeth and frothing dance moves.
I am one cool dude.
From Vancouver I jetted back to LA and then for one night I hit the spot where middle America comes to waddle, yeah baby yeah I mean VVVEEEGGGGAAASSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What a totally bizarre, totally cool, totally stupid, totally awesome place it is.
I went with my mate Richard who got us a deal at the Imperial Palace. A somewhat low rent hotel with bad 80's furniture and a rash of Dealer-tainers. What's that you ask.....well read on Macduff.
A dealer-tainer is someone who does celebrity singing impersonations BUT obviously isn't quite good enough to make a living doing that full time so deals as well. The result is a croupier who dresses like Gwen Stefani and jumps up to belt out a number between crap shoots. Awesome.
It was here that on my first ever go on a table I turned $40 into $180 in under an hour playing Texas Hold-em Poker. I mentioned I'm a cool dude didn't I?? There is something wonderful about winning money in Vegas because all of a sudden it's play money. You didn't have it before so it becomes ear marked for frivolous purchases like $15US cocktails, Venetian Gondola Rides and a Chippendale rented by the hour. Awesome.
I had a go on some slots too because how could I resist when it's called "Pennyland"! BUT I really didn't do much gambling but rather soaked in the crazy atmosphere.
One thing I will say is that some of those hotels are quite frankly fucking beautiful. I expected it to be more tacky (and hell go to the Luxor and you'll find tacky) BUT the Venetian, The Bellagio, The Forum Shopping Centre and the Paris are just stunning stunning edifices to consumption, themed carpeting and neon BUT in a tasteful way. That may sound ridiculous but I was open-mouthed on numerous occasions and not just with the Chippendale. I especially loved Paris, as it's my favourite city and seeing it in miniature was too too cool, but the mini San Marco Piazza in the Venetian was wondrous too. They also are masters of themed lighting making it always look like dusk in Europe any hour of the day. Tres Awesomeant.
One thing the place lacked though, despite the tricky lighting, was seriously good looking people to go with the hotels.
I realise I'm no Julia Roberts poncing about the Bellagio in my Cowgirl Boots BUT come on people. It was as if Ohio had let their seniors (and their dogs) out for the week with strict instructions to wear a lot of polyester, sweat a lot and smoke in my face.
(YES you can still smoke INSIDE in Las Vegas. You can buy a cocktail at a bar and wander down the street with it AND you can smoke even in your hotel room. We were in a smoking room because our non-smoking room had a view of the rock band til 5am.)
I went in search of some totty to flirt with whilst my mate hit the hay, but eventually gave up sifting through the toupee's like rodents and the teeth like....rodents, so sat at a bar and paid for some drinks. (As opposed to getting those free ones from the girls wearing nothing when you're gambling.) I was soon chatting away to two lovely English lads in town for a 30th birthday and sat there doing that til 6am discussing politics, English pubs and how pissed we all were. Aweshhhhum.
I then passed out myself in my Marlborough Light room before a walk of the other end of the strip the next day. It was here we discovered M&M World. A merchandise store for M&M's that was four stories high, had the smell of chocolate pumped through, had figurines of M&M's for $1200 US and a 3D movie adventure called "I left my M in Vegas".
I think that sums the place up really.
Awesome.
Tomorrow I land in Mexico City, stay tuned for Mojito fuelled treatises on how beans affect my Gringo Stomach Lining.
Not quite so awesome.
Moving on.
Well fuck me if it isn't all over rover.
2.5 months of Canadian Touring has flown by faster than a Paris Hilton Jail Sentence. I can hardly believe I've done five fringes, navigated across 5 provinces and performed my show 36 times BUT I have photographic evidence to prove it so it must be true.
I really did have an awesome time all the way across and it was capped off brilliantly with a rollicking final night bash in the Vancouver Fringe Club complete with gnashing of teeth and frothing dance moves.
I am one cool dude.
From Vancouver I jetted back to LA and then for one night I hit the spot where middle America comes to waddle, yeah baby yeah I mean VVVEEEGGGGAAASSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What a totally bizarre, totally cool, totally stupid, totally awesome place it is.
I went with my mate Richard who got us a deal at the Imperial Palace. A somewhat low rent hotel with bad 80's furniture and a rash of Dealer-tainers. What's that you ask.....well read on Macduff.
A dealer-tainer is someone who does celebrity singing impersonations BUT obviously isn't quite good enough to make a living doing that full time so deals as well. The result is a croupier who dresses like Gwen Stefani and jumps up to belt out a number between crap shoots. Awesome.
It was here that on my first ever go on a table I turned $40 into $180 in under an hour playing Texas Hold-em Poker. I mentioned I'm a cool dude didn't I?? There is something wonderful about winning money in Vegas because all of a sudden it's play money. You didn't have it before so it becomes ear marked for frivolous purchases like $15US cocktails, Venetian Gondola Rides and a Chippendale rented by the hour. Awesome.
I had a go on some slots too because how could I resist when it's called "Pennyland"! BUT I really didn't do much gambling but rather soaked in the crazy atmosphere.
One thing I will say is that some of those hotels are quite frankly fucking beautiful. I expected it to be more tacky (and hell go to the Luxor and you'll find tacky) BUT the Venetian, The Bellagio, The Forum Shopping Centre and the Paris are just stunning stunning edifices to consumption, themed carpeting and neon BUT in a tasteful way. That may sound ridiculous but I was open-mouthed on numerous occasions and not just with the Chippendale. I especially loved Paris, as it's my favourite city and seeing it in miniature was too too cool, but the mini San Marco Piazza in the Venetian was wondrous too. They also are masters of themed lighting making it always look like dusk in Europe any hour of the day. Tres Awesomeant.
One thing the place lacked though, despite the tricky lighting, was seriously good looking people to go with the hotels.
I realise I'm no Julia Roberts poncing about the Bellagio in my Cowgirl Boots BUT come on people. It was as if Ohio had let their seniors (and their dogs) out for the week with strict instructions to wear a lot of polyester, sweat a lot and smoke in my face.
(YES you can still smoke INSIDE in Las Vegas. You can buy a cocktail at a bar and wander down the street with it AND you can smoke even in your hotel room. We were in a smoking room because our non-smoking room had a view of the rock band til 5am.)
I went in search of some totty to flirt with whilst my mate hit the hay, but eventually gave up sifting through the toupee's like rodents and the teeth like....rodents, so sat at a bar and paid for some drinks. (As opposed to getting those free ones from the girls wearing nothing when you're gambling.) I was soon chatting away to two lovely English lads in town for a 30th birthday and sat there doing that til 6am discussing politics, English pubs and how pissed we all were. Aweshhhhum.
I then passed out myself in my Marlborough Light room before a walk of the other end of the strip the next day. It was here we discovered M&M World. A merchandise store for M&M's that was four stories high, had the smell of chocolate pumped through, had figurines of M&M's for $1200 US and a 3D movie adventure called "I left my M in Vegas".
I think that sums the place up really.
Awesome.
Tomorrow I land in Mexico City, stay tuned for Mojito fuelled treatises on how beans affect my Gringo Stomach Lining.
Not quite so awesome.
Friday, September 14, 2007
In Christchurch in three hours my sister Suzie and Dad will be attending the funeral of Graham Condon who was an amazing Cantabrian.
Graham was the father of one of my sister's closest friends, and he was killed in a road accident on Saturday. He was an incredibly inspirational man who was in a wheelchair from childhood and became a Paralympian World Record Holder and passionate city councillor. He was an awesome father and friend who didn't seem to mind at all that I drank some of their wine when I was pissed at Suzie's hen's night, which was at their house.
I wish I could buy him a drink now and recite a poem, which he often wanted me to do.
SO I'm off to the Vancouver Beach aptly called Wreck Beach, to send love and probably a few tears across the Pacific for Kathy, Andrea and Craig.
Arohanui Graham. xo
Graham was the father of one of my sister's closest friends, and he was killed in a road accident on Saturday. He was an incredibly inspirational man who was in a wheelchair from childhood and became a Paralympian World Record Holder and passionate city councillor. He was an awesome father and friend who didn't seem to mind at all that I drank some of their wine when I was pissed at Suzie's hen's night, which was at their house.
I wish I could buy him a drink now and recite a poem, which he often wanted me to do.
SO I'm off to the Vancouver Beach aptly called Wreck Beach, to send love and probably a few tears across the Pacific for Kathy, Andrea and Craig.
Arohanui Graham. xo
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Monday, September 03, 2007
Why oh Why Canada do you have such huge gaps in
your toilet doors!
Here's to suffragettes and new bras!
Gimme Food Bitch!
The Ferrari Oestarossa
Lake Louise
The View from atop The Cable Car Port, Jasper.
I climbed a mountain!
The Big Rock Brewery Stage. Or as I prefer to call it the little shitty crappy stage.
NZ's Kim Potter excites an audience member.
Fire Wankers
The Fringe Site
The Death Car with Greasy Man
The Free for All Promo Spot.
Thrilled to be here!
Settle in kids, it’s an epic to rival Harry Potter…….
Wow Saskatoon seems like a million miles away from Edmonton Airport Gate 56 and in some ways it is.
I have only one fringe left on my epic Canadian World Domination Tour and I cannot believe how quickly it has flown by.
The Edmonton Fringe was the best one yet for me. I virtually sold out my entire run, got some lovely reviews and consolidated some great friendships along the way. I stayed with a lovely family who distracted me far too often from work with home-made red wine, (which surprisingly did not taste like beaver pee) and went to the infamous West Ed Mall.
For those in the don’t know, WEM is the biggest shopping centre in the world. It has a water park, an amusement park, an ice-skating rink, a sea lion enclosure (the dolphins kept dying) and oh yeah….shops.
As the Edmonton “summer” was more reminiscent of Scott’s expedition, I decided that rather then eat some dogs I should buy some winter woollies.
What a shame.
I also rode the Mind Bender Roller Coaster or as I prefer to call it the Neck Cracker, or as the weird man behind us said - the Death Car.
As my mate Nile and I were settling in waiting for the coaster to chug off into a stomach churning whirly-gig, this slightly greasy, frankly creepy dude behind us told us the story of how the very car we were sitting in once flew off to tracks in mid corkscrew and turned it’s inhabitants into Prime Canadian Mince Meat.
Wicked.
We survived but only just and were both in need of some serious neck readjustment afterwards.
After Edmonton’s madness was all over I had a week off before the Vancouver Fringe so I decided to cheat death once more, by hiring a car and driving on the wrong side of the road through the Canadian Rockies. Just call me Evil Penevil……..or something like that.
I decided to tootle through Alberta as opposed to driving to Vancouver, as to afford a one way hire in Canada is to sell all non-vital organs. SO I made it to Jasper, Banff and Calgary in one piece with only heading off on the wrong side of the road once. I did better than when I hired a bike in Belgium when I was 23 and made it a fair few hundred metres on the left wondering why everyone was looking at me funny. I was lucky I didn’t end up a Belgian Biscuit. (see what I did there….yes well.)
The Rockies really are very stunning, but at first I found it hard to get too excited as really it’s just the South Island but everyone says… “eh” a little more. A few of us hired a house in Jasper and I was perfectly happy to curl up inside with Cable TV, pasta, wine AND wireless internet. BUT you will be pleased to know I did manage to get owt and abowt in the wilderness and even climbed a mountain.
On my way to Banff I made a stop in Lake Louise which is truly stunning though horrendously touristy, scrambled about on a glacier and then settled into a night at the YWCA. Oh the glamour. Banff would be picturesque too if didn’t look like Baghdad. They’re digging up the main street and redoing the sewers apparently, either that or looking for Weapons of Mass Destruction I couldn’t be sure. Canada does have a lot of oil.
HHHmmmmm.
From Banff I made a stop in Canmore which is a cute little town where I decided I wanted to head off on a non-touristy path. And boy did I find one. After following what seemed like a trail, even though I was suddenly envisaging Grizzly Bears at every turn (just what sort of animal crap is THAT!), I ended up stranded when the trail disappeared in a field of nettles and gorse. There was nothing for it so I thrashed through in my new Cowgirl Boots from WEM towards what looked like civilisation.
Yes well. Just as I thought I had made it I encountered a river that I had to forge. OK so maybe a creek, but it was slimy and no doubt filled with Kiwi eating beavers….(um er so to speak.) I managed to get across with only slipping once and dunking my butt.
Did I mention the glamour.
From there I kept on to Calgary where I had arranged to stay with some members of the fabulous Obscene But Not Heard comedy troupe. Downtown Calgary was pretty cool, and even sports a statue to some suffragettes who got a law changed here in Canada that had determined that women were not people and therefore couldn’t run for parliament. Ahhhhh men.
After a night on the tiles I ended up staying somewhere other than expected due to someone getting lucky and me having no desire to knock on his door and say; “Oh sorry if you could just stop pleasuring the lady and let me in I promise to be quiet and you just get back to it….” SO thanks Nicole!
So then it was back to Edmonton to grab the bulk of my stuff, drop off the Ferrari Oestarossa and head here to the airport.
SO Vancouver here I come, I have a couple of poetry gigs lined up and yet another season of flashing my bits, oh and in exciting breaking travel news after V-City I’m going to VEGAS baby. AND I don’t mean Ashburton neither, wooooohooooooooo.
Fingers crossed for some Glamour!
Wow Saskatoon seems like a million miles away from Edmonton Airport Gate 56 and in some ways it is.
I have only one fringe left on my epic Canadian World Domination Tour and I cannot believe how quickly it has flown by.
The Edmonton Fringe was the best one yet for me. I virtually sold out my entire run, got some lovely reviews and consolidated some great friendships along the way. I stayed with a lovely family who distracted me far too often from work with home-made red wine, (which surprisingly did not taste like beaver pee) and went to the infamous West Ed Mall.
For those in the don’t know, WEM is the biggest shopping centre in the world. It has a water park, an amusement park, an ice-skating rink, a sea lion enclosure (the dolphins kept dying) and oh yeah….shops.
As the Edmonton “summer” was more reminiscent of Scott’s expedition, I decided that rather then eat some dogs I should buy some winter woollies.
What a shame.
I also rode the Mind Bender Roller Coaster or as I prefer to call it the Neck Cracker, or as the weird man behind us said - the Death Car.
As my mate Nile and I were settling in waiting for the coaster to chug off into a stomach churning whirly-gig, this slightly greasy, frankly creepy dude behind us told us the story of how the very car we were sitting in once flew off to tracks in mid corkscrew and turned it’s inhabitants into Prime Canadian Mince Meat.
Wicked.
We survived but only just and were both in need of some serious neck readjustment afterwards.
After Edmonton’s madness was all over I had a week off before the Vancouver Fringe so I decided to cheat death once more, by hiring a car and driving on the wrong side of the road through the Canadian Rockies. Just call me Evil Penevil……..or something like that.
I decided to tootle through Alberta as opposed to driving to Vancouver, as to afford a one way hire in Canada is to sell all non-vital organs. SO I made it to Jasper, Banff and Calgary in one piece with only heading off on the wrong side of the road once. I did better than when I hired a bike in Belgium when I was 23 and made it a fair few hundred metres on the left wondering why everyone was looking at me funny. I was lucky I didn’t end up a Belgian Biscuit. (see what I did there….yes well.)
The Rockies really are very stunning, but at first I found it hard to get too excited as really it’s just the South Island but everyone says… “eh” a little more. A few of us hired a house in Jasper and I was perfectly happy to curl up inside with Cable TV, pasta, wine AND wireless internet. BUT you will be pleased to know I did manage to get owt and abowt in the wilderness and even climbed a mountain.
On my way to Banff I made a stop in Lake Louise which is truly stunning though horrendously touristy, scrambled about on a glacier and then settled into a night at the YWCA. Oh the glamour. Banff would be picturesque too if didn’t look like Baghdad. They’re digging up the main street and redoing the sewers apparently, either that or looking for Weapons of Mass Destruction I couldn’t be sure. Canada does have a lot of oil.
HHHmmmmm.
From Banff I made a stop in Canmore which is a cute little town where I decided I wanted to head off on a non-touristy path. And boy did I find one. After following what seemed like a trail, even though I was suddenly envisaging Grizzly Bears at every turn (just what sort of animal crap is THAT!), I ended up stranded when the trail disappeared in a field of nettles and gorse. There was nothing for it so I thrashed through in my new Cowgirl Boots from WEM towards what looked like civilisation.
Yes well. Just as I thought I had made it I encountered a river that I had to forge. OK so maybe a creek, but it was slimy and no doubt filled with Kiwi eating beavers….(um er so to speak.) I managed to get across with only slipping once and dunking my butt.
Did I mention the glamour.
From there I kept on to Calgary where I had arranged to stay with some members of the fabulous Obscene But Not Heard comedy troupe. Downtown Calgary was pretty cool, and even sports a statue to some suffragettes who got a law changed here in Canada that had determined that women were not people and therefore couldn’t run for parliament. Ahhhhh men.
After a night on the tiles I ended up staying somewhere other than expected due to someone getting lucky and me having no desire to knock on his door and say; “Oh sorry if you could just stop pleasuring the lady and let me in I promise to be quiet and you just get back to it….” SO thanks Nicole!
So then it was back to Edmonton to grab the bulk of my stuff, drop off the Ferrari Oestarossa and head here to the airport.
SO Vancouver here I come, I have a couple of poetry gigs lined up and yet another season of flashing my bits, oh and in exciting breaking travel news after V-City I’m going to VEGAS baby. AND I don’t mean Ashburton neither, wooooohooooooooo.
Fingers crossed for some Glamour!
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
So here are some fabulously silly pics for the post below. Yes I am arse about face. (Which is to say I'm "back the front" as opposed to butt ugly.)
Paul Thorne dressed as Me. HHHHmmmm.
About to be kissed where I wasn't expecting to be in order to turn into a Queen like the man on his knees.....where he usually is I'm sure.
Rob Gee has two beers in one hand and tits in another, Life doesn't get any better..... well maybe if the tits weren't beanbags.
Paul Thorne has changed back into himself rather then being me.
Paul and I suckle my Tits together, quite a feat.
Paul Thorne dressed as Me. HHHHmmmm.
About to be kissed where I wasn't expecting to be in order to turn into a Queen like the man on his knees.....where he usually is I'm sure.
Rob Gee has two beers in one hand and tits in another, Life doesn't get any better..... well maybe if the tits weren't beanbags.
Paul Thorne has changed back into himself rather then being me.
Paul and I suckle my Tits together, quite a feat.
Rob comes onto Kristian in a typically English Way.
Canada's Next Top Models
Yes there was alcohol involved in Spoof Night.
Alison kicks Spandex Butt!
Rob Plays Alex Eddington from The Fugue Code to an A.
My Jenny Award for Best Bumper and Peeler from Winnipeg.
Jenny, my love.
OOhhh some poster whore has been here in Winnipeg Beer Garden.
And here on a lampost.
Some old churchy thing.
A Furry suited up and waiting for some Police Loving.
Canada's Next Top Models
Yes there was alcohol involved in Spoof Night. 
Alison kicks Spandex Butt!
Rob Plays Alex Eddington from The Fugue Code to an A.
My Jenny Award for Best Bumper and Peeler from Winnipeg.
Jenny, my love.
OOhhh some poster whore has been here in Winnipeg Beer Garden.
And here on a lampost.
Some old churchy thing.
A Furry suited up and waiting for some Police Loving.
Johnny P in Market Square Winnipeg
Sunday, August 12, 2007
As the fabulous German Band Die Roten Punkte would say....... "Danke Saskatoooooooon!"
Today I head to Edmonton to continue this Fringe Odyssey, or should I say Penelopiad, and as I drive out of town stuffed into someone else's car I will smile fondly back at the little Fringe that could.
With only 55 shows here it's certainly the smallest Fringe on tour but I have had a brilliant time here and I even sold two CD's. It helped that I finally remembered to tell an audience I had some with me, that is usually the key to selling them.
We've all gotten to know each other here that little bit better. Drinking beer and dancing til 4am to Madonna and Basement Jaxx will do that really. But we've also thought about each other's shows in whole new ways.
Last two nights have been spoof night when we each drew the name out of a hat of another show and then presented a three minute spoof of that show. I was spoofed by the lovely Paul Thorne who is an English stand-up. (.Photos below) He seemed to think I was talking about the number 6 as opposed to SEX. He may have been mocking my accent (not to mention my tits) but I choose to believe he wouldn't be so mean.
It was a freakin hilarious evening if a little nerve wracking. I had no idea if my spoof of The Frog and Toad are Not Friends and Never Will Be and This is Why would be at all funny. Turns out if you turn a kid's show in a gay amphibian love story with a donkey rutting scene thrown in, people like it!
Who'd have thought.
Anyways I have to pack up, photos will be posted soon!
Today I head to Edmonton to continue this Fringe Odyssey, or should I say Penelopiad, and as I drive out of town stuffed into someone else's car I will smile fondly back at the little Fringe that could.
With only 55 shows here it's certainly the smallest Fringe on tour but I have had a brilliant time here and I even sold two CD's. It helped that I finally remembered to tell an audience I had some with me, that is usually the key to selling them.
We've all gotten to know each other here that little bit better. Drinking beer and dancing til 4am to Madonna and Basement Jaxx will do that really. But we've also thought about each other's shows in whole new ways.
Last two nights have been spoof night when we each drew the name out of a hat of another show and then presented a three minute spoof of that show. I was spoofed by the lovely Paul Thorne who is an English stand-up. (.Photos below) He seemed to think I was talking about the number 6 as opposed to SEX. He may have been mocking my accent (not to mention my tits) but I choose to believe he wouldn't be so mean.
It was a freakin hilarious evening if a little nerve wracking. I had no idea if my spoof of The Frog and Toad are Not Friends and Never Will Be and This is Why would be at all funny. Turns out if you turn a kid's show in a gay amphibian love story with a donkey rutting scene thrown in, people like it!
Who'd have thought.
Anyways I have to pack up, photos will be posted soon!
Monday, August 06, 2007
So imagine this scene, you've amassed a very decent crowd with seven hours of flyering on the streets of Saskatoon.
You're waiting backstage eager to knock their socks off.
Your intro music comes (even if the tech is a moron who keeps fucking it up even with repeated instruction.)
You waltz on ready to charm the pants of the Tooners when.......no lights. Nothing, nada, zip, ix-nay on the ights-nay, kaput.
Said technician starts making frantic manoeuvres at the back of the stage as he tries to fix the problem but.............nothing.
Then like a beacon to a lost sailor on a shipwrecked plank the FOH lady shines a torch at me from the back of the room. Then eager beavers (we are in Canada) in the audience join in and all of a sudden I'm bathed slightly in torchlight so what the hell, I start my show.
I do five minutes of material like this before the tech gets the board back up and running. I thank him for that but not for the ensuing mistakes in the show making me look silly.
However it'll be a night I remember for quite some time!
OH and here's another fab review :)
Hot Pink Bits
Venue 7 – The Conservatory
Hilarious! Hilarious! Hilarious! Some audience members were laughing so hard that they were in tears. A solid show from Kiwi performer Penny Ashton, aka “Mistress Hot Bits”. She takes us along, through the “ins and outs” of the global sex trade in a funny, well-rounded way. From porn to prostitution, from S&M to furries, she talks about it all.
While not glossing over the obvious negative impacts of the sex trade, she still manages to present it all in an upbeat beat fashion, deliver laugh after laugh. The show is very smart and full of interesting facts and statistics about the sex trade. Did you know that it was only one year after the first film was released that the first porno film was released? … Well, you would know this and much more if you saw this show. Lots of games, songs, audience participation, and free stuff. A true gem, this show may certainly be the best comedy at the Fringe this year.
- Cindy Murdoch UMFM
You're waiting backstage eager to knock their socks off.
Your intro music comes (even if the tech is a moron who keeps fucking it up even with repeated instruction.)
You waltz on ready to charm the pants of the Tooners when.......no lights. Nothing, nada, zip, ix-nay on the ights-nay, kaput.
Said technician starts making frantic manoeuvres at the back of the stage as he tries to fix the problem but.............nothing.
Then like a beacon to a lost sailor on a shipwrecked plank the FOH lady shines a torch at me from the back of the room. Then eager beavers (we are in Canada) in the audience join in and all of a sudden I'm bathed slightly in torchlight so what the hell, I start my show.
I do five minutes of material like this before the tech gets the board back up and running. I thank him for that but not for the ensuing mistakes in the show making me look silly.
However it'll be a night I remember for quite some time!
OH and here's another fab review :)
Hot Pink Bits
Venue 7 – The Conservatory
Hilarious! Hilarious! Hilarious! Some audience members were laughing so hard that they were in tears. A solid show from Kiwi performer Penny Ashton, aka “Mistress Hot Bits”. She takes us along, through the “ins and outs” of the global sex trade in a funny, well-rounded way. From porn to prostitution, from S&M to furries, she talks about it all.
While not glossing over the obvious negative impacts of the sex trade, she still manages to present it all in an upbeat beat fashion, deliver laugh after laugh. The show is very smart and full of interesting facts and statistics about the sex trade. Did you know that it was only one year after the first film was released that the first porno film was released? … Well, you would know this and much more if you saw this show. Lots of games, songs, audience participation, and free stuff. A true gem, this show may certainly be the best comedy at the Fringe this year.
- Cindy Murdoch UMFM
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Well here I sit in my tiny room that I'm sharing with the lovely Alison from a play called The Fugue Code in tiny Toon Town otherwise known as Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.
Now don't get me wrong, if there was anyone in the world easier to share a room with I'd be very surprised. But I haven't shared a room since my sister moved out when I was about ten and I like it that way.
It's like having a boy over to stay but with none of the fringe benefits of the occasional orgasm and a manly chest to lie on.
I'm also staying in a rather devout household with many a picture of Jesus dotted about and much talk of christian ethics and church. As an atheist this is a new environment for me BUT I was dragged up proper and I can be respectful. They have been nothing but entirely generous and lovely and kind with driving me about the place BUT I'm not sure they'll be taking in my show about the sex industry and if they do I confess (not with a priest of course) to be pleased my piss-take of the Lord's prayer which comes complete with the lines: "Give us this day our daily head" and "Ahhhhh lots of men" is not in the international version of my show.
A-hem.
I have only done one show here so far which had a whole 21 people attending. But as it was 4pm on a Thursday on the first day of the Fringe with no one about on the street I was thrilled with that. Is funny how our expectations change from day to day. I am also performing here in a school gym. Oh the dizzy heights of fame where I get changed next to a hockey net and some plastic hockey sticks. (Probably the Canadian equivalent of Kiwi Cricket.)
My tech also didn't turn up til 15 mins before I was supposed to go on on Thursday, so that was exciting too. (Though not as exciting as in Winnipeg where the group before me took off with my CD and I nearly had to cancel my last show as I stupidly had no back-up and was bawling in the theatre calling then cunts when it came running in the door.)
But apart from that Winnipeg rocked the party! I won Best of Fest, got a four and a half star review in the Winnipeg Sun (see below) and made some brilliant friends. That town sure knows how to Fringe with some couples taking in 60 or 70 shows in the course of 10 days! Personally my eyes would start to bleed if I did that I think but I saw around 22 shows.
I also got two of the worst reviews in my life in Winnipeg, well actually the only 2 truly bad reviews in my life ever. And one of these was from the same show as the 4 1/2 star review in the Sun. Proving art is entirely subjective indeed. I could go into some in depth analysis of their reasons for not enjoying my show but I think I'll just call them twats. SO there, twats.
OOOOOhhh I'm so mature.
Anyways I have to go and break bread for lunch and then get my pink ass down to the festival centre to flyer. Wish me luck.
Ahhhhhhhh lots of men.
Now don't get me wrong, if there was anyone in the world easier to share a room with I'd be very surprised. But I haven't shared a room since my sister moved out when I was about ten and I like it that way.
It's like having a boy over to stay but with none of the fringe benefits of the occasional orgasm and a manly chest to lie on.
I'm also staying in a rather devout household with many a picture of Jesus dotted about and much talk of christian ethics and church. As an atheist this is a new environment for me BUT I was dragged up proper and I can be respectful. They have been nothing but entirely generous and lovely and kind with driving me about the place BUT I'm not sure they'll be taking in my show about the sex industry and if they do I confess (not with a priest of course) to be pleased my piss-take of the Lord's prayer which comes complete with the lines: "Give us this day our daily head" and "Ahhhhh lots of men" is not in the international version of my show.
A-hem.
I have only done one show here so far which had a whole 21 people attending. But as it was 4pm on a Thursday on the first day of the Fringe with no one about on the street I was thrilled with that. Is funny how our expectations change from day to day. I am also performing here in a school gym. Oh the dizzy heights of fame where I get changed next to a hockey net and some plastic hockey sticks. (Probably the Canadian equivalent of Kiwi Cricket.)
My tech also didn't turn up til 15 mins before I was supposed to go on on Thursday, so that was exciting too. (Though not as exciting as in Winnipeg where the group before me took off with my CD and I nearly had to cancel my last show as I stupidly had no back-up and was bawling in the theatre calling then cunts when it came running in the door.)
But apart from that Winnipeg rocked the party! I won Best of Fest, got a four and a half star review in the Winnipeg Sun (see below) and made some brilliant friends. That town sure knows how to Fringe with some couples taking in 60 or 70 shows in the course of 10 days! Personally my eyes would start to bleed if I did that I think but I saw around 22 shows.
I also got two of the worst reviews in my life in Winnipeg, well actually the only 2 truly bad reviews in my life ever. And one of these was from the same show as the 4 1/2 star review in the Sun. Proving art is entirely subjective indeed. I could go into some in depth analysis of their reasons for not enjoying my show but I think I'll just call them twats. SO there, twats.
OOOOOhhh I'm so mature.
Anyways I have to go and break bread for lunch and then get my pink ass down to the festival centre to flyer. Wish me luck.
Ahhhhhhhh lots of men.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
HOT PINK BITS
Venue 7, The Conservatory
Sex sells Fringe tickets -- so there's really no need to promote New Zealander Penny Ashton's delightfully sleazy set of sketches. But those left outside the bedroom, er, theatre oughta know what they're missing.
After explaining "pink bits" is New Zealand slang for private parts, Ashton (aka Hot Pink) reveals herself -- in a decolletage-boosting (OK, they're practically popping out) bustier gown primed for burlesque.
Starting with a brief history of porn, Ashton sings, shimmies and pulls random audience members along for the, ahem, ride. A string of erotic bits about the origins of prostitution, fetishes you never thought could exist (don't even get us started on the "Roman shower") and how amputees do the deed is sandwiched between interesting sex facts, trivia games (with suitable prizes), a number by Hot Pink's, uh, sock puppet and saucy remakes of Madonna's Hung Up and Ricky Martin's She Bangs.
Audience members are called on to make bedroom sound effects, and while those shy of the subject matter might squirm, Ashton is as warm and self-deprecating as she is bold -- and hilariously sexy.
Sun Rating: 4 1/2 out of 5
-- Lindsey Ward
-- Lindsey Ward
Monday, July 23, 2007
Well what can I say, Winnipeg rocks the PARTY!
This fringe is sooooooo much more fun for me than the Toronto one. I have audiences! More than that I have had 2 totally and one virtually sold out audiences. I have had people loving the show. I have restored my faith in the show. I have smiled more and cried less. Winnipeg I love you!
I have been blogging for the CBC here and this is the link if you want to know what life on the Fringe is like:
http://www.cbc.ca/manitoba/features/fringe2007/blog/penny_ashton/
OK off to see more shows, Life is better, much much better.
This fringe is sooooooo much more fun for me than the Toronto one. I have audiences! More than that I have had 2 totally and one virtually sold out audiences. I have had people loving the show. I have restored my faith in the show. I have smiled more and cried less. Winnipeg I love you!
I have been blogging for the CBC here and this is the link if you want to know what life on the Fringe is like:
http://www.cbc.ca/manitoba/features/fringe2007/blog/penny_ashton/
OK off to see more shows, Life is better, much much better.
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