Reasons you will hate me

I am an international reader you demanded show themself. It's 9.30 am and I am starting work in my office in London's Leicester Square, and when not reading blogs instead of working, I like to spend my lunch breaks sitting on the grass outside the National Portrait Gallery.
Since I've revealed myself to you, and so early in the morning too, I shall ask a question:
Have you any plans for visiting London, and if so would you care to meet me for tapas?
and while I'm at it, big fan of your book club programme. Could do with something like that on tv here. How would I -- with no experience in television and no connections -- go about first convincing some man with a cigar to commission the show, and who would they need to talk to in order to do that? Maybe they could just show yours...

Tell us about your first kiss?

Is the use of irony getting boring?

Is the misuse of the word irony getting annoying?

Am I turning into a grumpy old man with nothing better to do than complain about the "youth of today"?

Seriously, though, when my contemporaries begin to use the current (read: five years old) internet lexicon in jest, as a pisstake, and finish using it more often, and for longer, than the objects of their derision, is it time to just take a few deep breaths and start again?

It might be like those times, though few and far between, where the original joke is so funny and stupid that it makes us laugh harder and harder, and the slightest movement of eyebrow or mention of irrelevant object sends us off into still more painful rounds of gigglefits. Until we subside some minutes later dabbing tears from our eyes, and sighing, and clutching our aching ribs, as someone who just entered the room says "What? What were you laughing at?"

Which sends us into another round of uproarious laughter until beer dribbles form our nostrils, and we honestly can't remember what we were saying.

What was I saying?

i too am an international reader, in London, but i don't get up quite as early as clarence worley.

my question, fitsyfoof, is this - do you have an opinion on the work of Dave Eggers?

Hey there Miss Fits, long time reader, first time commenter. Just wondering how you stay motivated to do your work in a world filled with so many distractions? (interweb, live music, lunch dates, copious amounts of tea, knitting, podcasts etc etc) I'm finding it very hard to get anything worthwhile started or finished, and you seem to have accomplished so much. I know I'm capable of great things, but little things keep getting in the way.

word verification: pzncjppc - the sound a zipper makes when you're undoing it.

Long time reader, first time commenter, la de da, feeling expansive...

apropos of nothing...

"I've never really hoped for more than being able to stay at home writing during the day and go out for stupidly excessive dinners with an excellent book."

...yup. I'm not sure it's all that good when 'ambition bites hard' and compels (in any conventional sense). Not that I really know. Just a thought.

> That said, I should've fucking written a book by now. I'll get around to it eventually.

...maybe, yes. In another way, 'you done good' in a small/big way as an exemplar of sorts (kill me now...larfs at self) to 'others' who may want to write/express themselves? At least you have through this particular portal. (Not just you, but you're a part of 'it', as are many.)

Something about humour, too. In the face of seriousness and its dead-weight inertia that just 'stops' anything. It's 'serious', it must be respected...why?

'traipsing', possibly my favourite word.

(No take me too serious. Just words to be played, with)

For that man last week who has concerns about his willy:

I like them small. A lot.

I'm a Technique girl.

I think willies are over-rated, to an extent. I have to be extremely interested in the man before I will even manufacture interest about his willy.

It's such a shame that men seem to have so much of their self-esteem and identity tied up in their willies.

The fact that you care so much about pleasing your lady counts very much in your favour.

My young man has willy hang ups too. We've been together nearly three years and he hasn't let me anywhere near it. The poor dear has some sort of birth deformity. There are times where I burn up with rage - I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOUR PENIS, WILL YOU JUST FUCKING PUT OUT, etc. For the most part I feel compassion and empathy.

Thankfully, he doesn't let me leave the room until I'm glassy-eyed and barely able to stand up. So I'm not missing out. He's just so scared that I won't love him anymore. And won't believe me whatever I say to the contrary.

You know why I stay?

He's the only man I've met who I don't have to dumb myself down for, don't have to hide what I am thinking, don't have to submit to him in an argument, don't have to bow down to his ego and don't have to pretend to be something I'm not in order to conform the ideal of what a woman should be.

And I love him. I still get excited when I see him, every time.


Cut yourself some slack, dear. She's probably with you because she thinks you're an awesome human being.

Lay that lady of yours back one lazy Sunday arvo and figure out what gets her rocks off. See if she'll show you how she likes it if you're not feeling confident enough.

Enjoy.

I had a busy weekend last week with Lola the Vamp's show on Saturday and the Circus Pie Classic on Sunday. Something I liked about the Libertine Revue apart from the people in 1920s costume and Lola the Vamp managing to stare straight down the barrel of my camera (I don't even know how she knew were I was), was that there were a couple of older women in the show that were really good. Do you think housewife burlesque has legs?

A couple of Qs:

1. I am "quitting" writing (or at least going on long long-service leave, possibly to sit in a hut, near the beach, with wireless internet and listen to ATC feeds from JFK Approach). Will anyone care?

2. I now have two tattoos and for my third, I can't get the idea of a space shuttle (NOT Challenger or Columbia, jokers). Is this incredibly naff or will I end up "fuck you"/nerd cool like the hot chick I saw with a full sleeve Dalek?

3. Cillian Murphy: Y/N ? (I say YES YES YES, particularly after he smouldered - hinting at a deep well of male/humanity's sadness - his way through Sunshine, which incidentally is brilliant.)

Okay that's it for manic Clem now.

Ugh obviously I meant "I can't get the idea of a space shuttle OUT OF MY HEAD".

Word Verification agrees with my idiocy: "UGsoqe"

It's all too much for me today. I woke with a heavy brick like sensation in the centre of my chest. Even a good session with headphones on blaring Underworld's Born Slippy into my skull didn't dislodge it. I've been taking deep breaths all day. Still HBLS in chest. Have just been at a friend's for dinner and all the Pink Floyd, Guns and Roses and Tool they chose to play (which I still can't figure out) drove me to a warm muffled place under the doona in the spare room. Which is unusual for me because I can appreciate a good rock fest as much as the next closet bogan. Of course the nap means that now at 1.44 I'm wide awake, reading the blog wondering about the filth of the 'towards and away, towards and away' thing and the other one and the mystery of where the bloody hell that nonsense comes from. Good news though. Just saw a video hits quick bite about Madonna. Madge (peace be upon her) being Madge, talking about her ginormous ego, slipping in bits about her kids and having hand holding prayer sessions pre concert backstage is all well and good. But Guy Ritchie striding in on this palaver and saying 'come 'ear will yer, give us a kiss love' was too delicious for me and the large HBLS in chest now feels lighter. Bless the Brits. Today. me and the brick are off to bed.

Clem, you gotta clue. Haven't you? You're a writer. It seems.

Hope you can lift yourself above the shitty, pointless 'stuff' and find something.

(fuck that's lame. but, whatever, you got 'something'.)

there are some truly wonderful patrons still propping up the bar in your saloon, madame fits. keep the sweet liquor flowing.

Good Morning Ms Fits,

I hope this day finds you well. In answer to your question concerning my advice giver being a god botherer, well at one time I would say that they bothered god quite a bit. These days however they are more of the 'god can go to hell' leaning. I don't know whether I should be upset by this or not... it seems a shame to lose faith in something. Oh wells.

I'd also like to commend you for the manner in which you handled last week's unpleasantness with utter tact and grace rather than turning your rather excellent musings into a slanging match between yourself and the faceless keyboard warrior. Kudos to you.

I have no question this week (so far) and as ever I remain your humble fan boy.

Lieve Fits,

Of late however i have twice encountered a young Irish man on the way to work who, as i walk past him, in a creepy voice says "i'd love to come on your tits". This leaves me feeling rather ick.

I thought i had some reasonably witty ripostes appropriate to this circumstance but was rendered too speechless to use them these 2 times. The best my friends have managed to suggest is "And i want to spit in your ass but we can't always get what we want can we?" For some reason this did not spring immediately to my lips.

Assuming this happens again can you suggest a quick response to cut Creepy McIrish down to size?

Ah to the Anon with a brick on there chest I would get that checked, you could be having a mild cardiac arrest or some sort of arrhythmia. Unless this was a metaphor and I missed the point completely.

Dear Miss Fits,

My Friday question:

What, in all seriousness, is your political ideology? Have you done the Political Compass test (www.politicalcompass.org), and if so, what was your result?

Do you believe that our society would be better off under a socialist system?

Yours ever,
Pinkio

re cvm's earlier comment about creepy passerby comments:

at the train station on my way to work one day i had to pass quite closely by a young, ordinary-looking man, due to the station being crowded. in a very low voice he said, "your mammaries are making me hard" (!). as it was early in the morning and i wasn't expecting such comments, what he said didn't really sink in until a moment or two later. the best comeback i could think of on the spot was "fuck off needledick", and i didn't even think of that quickly enough to say it in time (isn't that so often the case?). so i know just where you're coming from.


(word-veri: xxifgv "kiss kiss, i forgive")

It's not Rod Stewart.

Nor is it Mike Goldman.

Just so you know.


My more pressing current dilemma, Ms Fits, is this - I very much dislike the taste of cantelope/rockmelon but find it is always the most dominant fruit in a cafe-styled take-away fruit salad. Why is this so? Can I request that the cantelope be removed from my fruit salad and replaced with more appealing fruits? Or is this considered to be poor form? Do you prefer to say cantelope or rockmelon? Is one more correct than the other?

What do you think of sites like these and in particular their influence on internet culture?
http://4chan.org/

/b/ is weird in particular:
http://img.4chan.org/b/imgboard.html
There's some eye-burning shit there, but they ocassionally do good work by organising and slamming shock-jocks who have been getting away with their shit for far too long.

Hello there,

When you were reading The Fermata, did you ever think/fantasise that maybe Arno Strine exists and that he had met/inspected you?

What would you do if you had the power to stop time like Arno?

Well, didn't our Big Matt Stud do well on RockWizz?

RocKwiz - just before all the pedontic people jump on me! :-)

Hi there MF. When are you coming to Perth next? (I'm supposed to suggest we meet for a coffee in a centrally located, well-lit cafe just either side of the lunchtime rush. But I can't tell you that yet.)

There. Now that my question's out of the way, check the moments around 1:25 and 3:52. And Shirley at the end - one can just imagine her thinking "This is the one Andrew told me about..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ds9u2WpvVBU&NR=1

Hello Ms Fits,

Having become a rabid fan of RYWHM Friday Q & A. Of course the first internet thing I do on a Friday is check if the lovely Ms Fits has updated.

Can some tech savvy person explain why after me clicking refresh multiple times this weekend (instead of doing looming deadline work as bloody usual) all I kept getting was Monday's post? Then tonight (Sunday) refresh works and not only is Friday Q & A there, but other posts too. WTF?

Ah well, it's not all bad I got to read all the confessions and be comforted by the fact that others are just as fucked up/confused/jealous/battle scarred as me and still plodding along.

Ms Fits, my lusting after the other bloke has returned, it's so boring. Don't feel like you have to provide advice, I've been here before, there really is no solution other than gritting my teeth and trying to behave like something resembling an adult. Just venting really. Thanks for listening.

I saw you on the Book Club show, I like how you just spoke normally and not all snooty like some people feel the need to on arts programs.
Do you ever wear you hair out?

Love to you all.

Oh, "retarded" is such a loaded term. It always brings the mood down when you feel you're getting along really well with someone, and then they ask you if you're retarded (and "in the nicest possible way" doesn't help THAT much, because the question is a bit like invading Poland - even the nicest possible way of doing it isn't all that nice). Suffice it to say, although socially retarded to a certain extent, I am not (as far as I know) mentally retarded. I am, though, a fame whore and am willing to give up most of my integrity for a chance to be on TV. In my defence, though, I auditioned for AGT early on when I had no idea what the show was beyond, "Do you do stuff? Come audition for our show!" So I did. I did my spoken word stylings that generate laughter and blank stares in equal measure, was complimented generously, interviewed, and never heard from them again. There. Answering questions when I should be asking them, indeed.

I do have a question, though, for all the other regulars here, those that link to their own blogs. Does spittle-flecked Anonymous man go to your blogs and bark madly there? He keeps coming back to mine and using hostility to veil his quite obvious erotic obsession with me. I wondered if I was the only one.

And a question for darling Fits...um um um. Er...do you like cricket? Do you know Shaun Micallef? Is Life of Brian or Holy Grail the better film? What is the difference between a duck?

PS I've read Harpo Speaks! It's my favourite Marx Brothers memoir too. To be fair, it's the only one I've read. I aspire more to Grouchoness for the being funny, but I must say I think it would have been more fun being Harpo.

PPS Sorry this is so long again. I crave attention to boost my self-esteem, what can a boy do?

"But yes, for the most part men like Ben Cousins who wear odd beanies to hide their amphetamine-sodden hair are pretty much wankers."

Darling Fits, all men are wankers, save for that 0.01% who are Young Hillsong Liberal members, who dare not touch their members in case John Howard and/or God strikes them dead.

Disturbing image. Ahem. I can't remember at this point if I had a question or not, so allow me to make one up.

When was the last time a film, play or painting moved you to tears, and who was the artist/writer/director responsible?

Also, how does one come to have amphetamine-sodden hair, and does ice style ones flowing locks as well as other products? Also, if I am hanging out for a line, would snorting my own hair get me wired, or just be very, very silly?

Hi Guys, my name is Richard... I herald from the depths of hell and damnation - Ie. Whyalla South Australia.

Just wondering, does Miss Fits have an email address?

Dear Ms Fits,

Re your book club comments: “I waxed lyrical about Slaughterhouse 5 in a youthful and borderline naive manner that made everyone on the panel pity me a bit ...”

I don’t think they pitied you at all (they were probably merely jealous of your ‘youthfulness’ as they’re a bit of a tired old lot next to your blooming and porcelain beauty).

I, personally, was very pleased that you brought such heart to the book club. When you spoke of being humbled and honoured by the book, and sad that you would never get to ‘drink’ the words again, I felt rather moved and so pleased that other people in the world respond as strongly to books as I often do (like you, I too have a preference for the company of books and canines over people – well, now, there’s a strange image…).

Re Emma’s query: I believe at the end you spoke of your heart being ‘broken in a beautiful way’ and referred to words going through your blood and veins. It resonated within my own blood and veins, dear girl, and made me inwardly sigh with pleasure - and I think that’s what the other panellists were doing, which resulted in that little …pause.

So please continue to be the wonder that is you Ms Fits. Your heart is as lovely as your alabaster skin (do not fret pet, the skin is well revered).

Warm regards,
Ms Bloom

PS. Was also impressed by how you classily picked your teeth at the close. Such abandon, yet such grace!

PPS. Oh, and in regard to the commenter who insulted your beauty and made the suggestion you: should rip out [your]uterus now and turn it into art…
I suspect they may be a lover of the artworks of Frida Kahlo who painted her uterus (look in that floating abdomen) and, by the way, was (like you Ms Fits) a unique and passionate individual, and equally inclined to wear sizable blooms in her lustrous, dark locks. (So, how are your painting skills?)

And, seeing as this is in the Friday q.s lot, do you always wear your hair in insouciant bunches with floral accessories? I find it difficult to stick to one hairstyle and was wondering if you instead find consistency in coiffure comforting.

(Hmm, I have now read some other posts and see hair has become a bit of a theme. Happy to see my first post is fitting in. And good god, am I sick of Ben Cousins! I’m in Perth and he’s irritatingly ubiquitous. He’ll hide the hair on his head but keep flaunting his hairy – and I’ll admit, nicely muscled – chest… his head’s surely muscled too...)

Good grief.
I wholeheartedly apologise for my rather verbose comment above. I do prattle on. Forgive me.

Sorry, link didn't work re Frida Kahlo -
http://artchive.com/artchive/K/kahlo/kahlo_henry_ford.jpg.html

She painted her uterus? She must have had a really long brush!

Zing!

Just a quickie in response to Easily Confused's question about refresh:

It depends on how you have your internet connection set up... a lot of workplaces and some residential users cache the copy of the page for a certain number of days, to save downloading it again every time it is visited. Clicking F5 will not necessarily refresh the page in those instances; if it happens again, try Ctrl+F5 (known as a "hard refresh") which will download the page anew.

Big Matt Stud looked rather pleased with himself whenever he answered a question - good on him! It's a bit nerve-wracking actually being up there - I imagine it would be 20 times worse with large ComFest crowd.

I actually do have a question that I'd like to put to everyone, if that's OK...

We have to move house and I'd like to move to the north side, preferably around Brunswick area, but other areas considered (please provide details thanks for your input); MrC is working in Berwick and will continue to do so until the end of the year at least and doesn't want to travel any more than he currently does (around 45kms/50mins each way).

After a bit of discussion on the weekend, he will at least consider the northern option if the travel times pretty much match. I suspect, for that reason, it's not going to happen because he'll have to take either Burke or Hoddle St with the rest of the traffic, thereby probably adding at least 15 mins to time and about 50% to stress levels.

oh yeah - Citylink's probably out of the question too, although I tend to agree with that one, what with the general public coming under heavier surveilllance / Panopticism / that sort of stuff.

Anyone got any ideas?

Thanking you, in advance, for your assistance.

Go, Big Matt Stud. Did you attempt to tonguekiss Julia Zemiro?

Do you mean did I go with a sort of "Hello, nice to meet you, big fan of your work, can I put my tongue in your mouth ?". Unfortunately I did not, although she did announce later on in the show that she was pining for love, so it's possible I missed a chance there. It does seem that she's pretty much over being the "it" girl for 50-ish balding music nerds though.

Thank you to the other commenters for their compliments on my performance, and catbrain, I think the expression that you might have been noticing on my face was more like relief that I had managed to open my mouth and have something other than gibbering nonsense come out (it was pretty nerve-wracking).


But these are not questions, and this blog is not about me, so my question for this week is (again) about the Circus Pie Classic cook off at the Corner Hotel last week. In the Beat magazine article on the event, Dan Kelly was asked "Which competitor are you most wary of, and why?", and his answer (in part) was

Holly C's overt gastro/intellecto/sexuality is always mildly threatening to me.

My questions are these:

1. How's that gastro/intellecto/sexuality thing working out for you ?

2. How does it make you feel to have Dan Kelly speaking admiringly of you (at least I think that's what he's doing). He's quite the young spunk, and even as a committed heterosexualist I can imagine that it might make me feel a little funny in the pants to have him talk about me that way, I can only imagine what it's like if your proclivities lie completely in that direction.

My question - DO your proclivities lie *completely* in that direction? I'd have thought they tended that way, but with an occasional detour. (And i nearly wrote 'proclitivities' - Freud would be delighted.

Dear Fitsy Doctor,

Last week when I asked for some reasons to stop idealising you (let alone hate you), you answered my question thoughtfully in pictures and words, which was very un-hateable of you. In fact, you were pretty unsuccessful in achieving your goal, even with the Spiderman mask and crotchless bodysuit.

It struck me that perhaps you quite like being adored by the masses. Hm. Well, that's understandable but (adoping a croaky "the end is nigh" voice and waving a finger in the air) - remember that the masses are a fickle friend, and its loyalties can shift in a trice! Today may the world be yours, and bask ye in its warmth; yet tomorrow may it shift to Guy Sebastian or Princess Margaret in the flash of a starlet! Sample ye the fruits of the masses' idolatry yet gorge not, for the feast may turn to butterflies and dazzle even while it disappears!

I think those anonymous posters are a bad influence on me, I'm not usually drawn to ranting. Thanks for putting up with it. Anyway, amongst your strangely likeable dislikable qualities, you said one thing that sent me all existential. "Hope that helps chip away at the fourth wall", you said.

Oo, er. I have a fourth wall? I thought you had a fourth wall and I was an audient. But in this brave new world of blogging the audience becomes the show - perhaps I have my own fourth wall too. Do you think my fourth wall is the same one as yours? If we chip away at it does that mean I can pass you giggly schoolboy crush notes through a little hole in it? Or are they like rooms in a large five star hotel overlooking a thronging sea of viewers and suddenly I need to heed my own rantings? Should I get an agent?

Confused,

Melbourne

Thanks catbrain. Will go the hard refresh this weekend.

Ms Fits (and anyone else) HELP!

After having lovely longish chat with the OTHER BLOKE yesterday, today I'm sitting here trying not to email him for some flimsy reason that I can make seem valid (I'm good at that sort of thing)this is friggin ridiculous for so many reasons:

* I have a fantastic partner.

* Having a secret affair would likely lead to me having a nervous breakdown.

* The OTHER BLOKE is more than likely NOT even interested, he has a partner.

* While I have an alright self-esteem about my looks, I am realistic and know that I am not Helen of Troy.

* I am behaving like an IDIOT.

love,
Easily Confused
(the face that has launched the odd dinghy and a few kayaks)

G'day Fits,

Did you see this?

Do any but the sons of the rich get a 1pm deadline to hand themselves in over a trifling matter such as a shooting death?

Could we work in a joke about Easily Confused's face launching 1,000 dingers as opposed to a dinghy? Too crass mayhaps?

Thanks for that Rustique.

In case you're wondering you have managed to hurt my feelings. Now go about the rest of your day smiling and content, knowing that with your razor sharp wit you can hurt people.

Do you enjoy The Hold Steady? I think they are rather wonderful.

hello Easily Confused..
you do seem to have yourself a dilemma there. as a very wise friend of mine once said, "the grass may be greener Over There, but when you get there & look down there's still mud". it might seem very tempting, but you could end up all muddy... not to mention the potential tears & heartbreak.
hope that helps, or is at least distracting!

I've only found the internet recently (and I know this makes me uncool in your eyes) but one of the first things I've found is this blog, and fuck I love it. And not just for you, though I love you too - though clearly not actual love 'cause that would be creepy - but for all the crazy additives who comment. My question, therefore, is who are these people, and why are they so depressed? 'Cause I've read the confessions, and they're not a happy bunch.



More importantly (ie more selfishly), now that I've found the internet and want to contribute, how do I find an avatar/name/identity. I don't want to be anonymous, but then again I don't want my friends recognising my psuedo-witty, exo-flirtatious banter and pointing their finger at me in an accusatory manner.

I'm thinking avatar-retard, or becoming-unanonymous, but they're not really funny, or good, or anything, really. Can you help?

ps my word verification is 'lycra' - i shit you not.

pps Have you read The Dice Man? I think it's fucking hilarious and very good.

Hi Fits!

trust your well!

a couple of questions to while away your friday... interpret how you will!

hypothetical: would you touch someone's bum if a pal dared you to do so, via sms, whilst 650km away?

curiosity: what's the best thing you've eaten lately?

political: did you gain from the budget? do you think that the previous is the wrong question to ask?

ta!

larson_b.

Hi Fits,

I live in Beijing. The 11th day of every month here is “form a line day”, when megaphoned-up youths in ill-fitting black uniforms hector us at the train station to form neat lines. There’s also an advertising campaign with cartoon characters saying “I line up! I’m happy!”. The Chinese Communist Party’s Spiritual Civilization Steering Committee is taking a number of measures to ensure that, come the Olympics, all the foreigners are impressed by the glorious and ancient culture as well as excellent manners of the Chinese people. On the 12th day of each month we all breathe a sigh of relief and go back to pinching and elbowing our way to the front. Happy form a line day!

hello, sexy.

wtf is wrong with people who can't keep quiet at the cafe while i try to read the saturday papers? i do not need to be entertained by your mindless yabbering while i'm trying to get the target word. srsly, do people have to speak, all the FUCKING TIME? can't you just be quiet for half an hour? friendship is marked by the length of comfortable silences.

anyhoo, in other news, life is now basket of bagels, just as you promised it would be. severing the ties of the Good Ship Poison was the best thing i ever did. i now work my dream job, everyday (hello, interviewing patti smith!) and ontop of that, joey - not that it's your name, bucko - i'm not angry anymore. ah, concrete blonde. never a truer word spoken by a man named johnnette.

it is good to be free.

x

i reckon i'm late for the questions, and i don't even have a question but FUCK i loved this string.

this has the be the bestest readings around, ladies and gents. and like someone else said, it's the commenters as well as fair fits.

revelling in it, loving it, grateful for it.

Where do you stand (pun sort of intended) on the Dog Shit Conundrum, ie dog shit in public spaces and in particular parks and other green areas?

Is it better to:

a) leave dog shit where it lays, where it will break down organically into the earth? or

b) pick it up in plastic bag and put in bin where it will end up in landfill?