#Sydney based band

[allylovesyaxx]

dreams do come true ✨🦋🪩🧡

@that-musical-lesbian

[daisyblog]

Proud Sister

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN is by Louis side at his London Premiere for All of Those Voices.

Based on this request

Sitting in the back of the black Range Rover with Louis, felt all too familiar to YN. She had done it a few months ago at the Venice Film Festival when they supported Harry for the Don’t Worry Darling premiere. She can remember walking the red carpet when One Direction’s This Is Us was released in 2013. 

YN was stunned when Louis had asked her to walk by his side on the carpet, for his own documentary, All Of Those Voices. Of course she was going to be there, supporting her big brother. But she was expecting to walk with Harry and her siblings. 

She was in Sydney with Harry, when a FaceTime from Louis popped up on her phone. 

“Hey Lou!”.

“Tiny! You alright my love?”. Louis’ cheery voice boomed through the speaker.

“Yeah..I’m alright…whot’s got you smiling like that?”. YN couldn’t help but notice how chirpy Louis was considering it was early morning back in London.

“Cheeky fucker…I’m always ‘appy.”. Louis pretended to be offended. “Anyway..I want to ask you something-“.

YN was quick to interrupt. “Yes I want a One Direction reunion.”.

“Yeah I know, but you’ll have to wait.” YN pouted at Louis words. “But how do you feel about walking with me on the red carpet?”.

YN eyes were wide, in shock at what Louis had just asked. It must have been a joke because out of everyone why would Louis just want YN to be by his side. 

“Is this a joke?”. She couldn’t help the words flowing out of her mouth.

Louis chucked, his blue eyes crinkled as he did. “Course fookin’ not…m’serious.”.

“Why me?”.

“Why you…are you being fookin’ serious right now”. Louis couldn’t believe how oblivious YN was on how much she had supported him over the years. “Tiny…you made me a big brother…you were my first friend…you were there at my audition believing in me…you cheered me and the band on through the show…you were by my side through three tours…you were the one who listened when Zayn left and the band decided to go on a break…you were the one by Mums side when I couldn’t be…you were the one who held it all together for us all when Mum passed…you were the one who made me believe in myself when it came to making my own music…you were the one trying to help me support Felicite…you are always the one by my side, so yeah I want you where you always are…walking by my side.”.

Louis and YN had always had a special bond, and Louis had always been loving towards his siblings but hearing Louis list all the things that YN did naturally because that’s the kind of person she was, had hit her hard emotionally. 

“You’ve made me cry now Lou.” YN was trying to gently wipe away her stray tears as she was getting ready to watch Harry’s show. “I’m a fookin’ mess…look at me.”.

“Yeah…well…I was only saying the truth.”. Anyone who knew Louis, would know that unless he meant it then he wouldn’t say it.

“Yeah of course I’ll be by your side.” YN eventually answered as she dabbed under her eyes with a tissue. “You’re my best friend too Lou…you know that right?”.

“Oi…don’t fookin’ start me off…right m’going before I cry…love you Tiny.”.

“Love you Lou.”.

As the car approached Leicester Square, screams could be heard from fans waiting for Louis’ arrival. Louis got out of the car first, before holding his hand out to help YN step out. 

As the siblings walked further up the red carpet, security following their every move, fans and the press were quick to snap photos and videos of the Tomlinsons. 

Louis stopped to take photos with fans at the side of the barrier, whilst trying to have small conversations with them. YN admired the interactions from her position slightly behind him. Louis and his fans had a special connection that only they could understand, and it was precious to watch the love between them. 

Louis was signalled to pose for photos by himself, before he called YN over to have their photos take together. Louis wrapped his arm around his sister, YN doing the same as they wore bright smiles on their faces. 

As Louis made a joke about his cheeks hurting from smiling so much, loud screams were heard from further down the red carpet.

“Your boyfriends arrived.” Louis playfully nudged YN’s shoulder with his.

“How do you know that?”. YN looked at her brother, confused how screams meant Harry had arrived.

“Believe me love…I just know.” Louis playfully squeezed her cheek with his finger, like her used to do when she was younger. 

Proving Louis right, YN could see Harry further down walking with her grandparents and siblings, trying not to draw attention to himself as in his words “today is Louis day”. YN had always known she was blessed but seeing her family all together made her realise it more. 

Louis had been called over by an interviewer to answer a few questions, meaning YN could sneak off to see her family. After giving each of her grandparents and siblings a quick cuddle and a peck on the cheek, she found herself next to Harry who immediately placed his arm around her hip and leaving a peck on her cheek. 

The Tomlinson siblings posed for photos together, before they were escorted into the screening. YN and Harry found their seats and sat comfortably next to each other. YN was in the middle of telling Harry something that had happened previous in the evening, when a voice interrupted them.

“Is this seat taken?”. Liam’s voice was heard. YN and Harry would recognise his accent anywhere. 

Harry stood from his seat and took Liam into his arms. “Nice to see you man.”.

“You too Styles!”. Liam let go of Harry, before leaning in to give YN and hug and a friendly kiss on the cheek. “How are you love?”. 

“I’m good…you kept this a secret.”. YN called Liam out on his surprise appearance at the premiere. 

After a quick catch up, Liam went to his own seat where he was sat further back with his new girlfriend. 

Before finding his seat next to YN, Louis said a few words and thank everyone involved in the making of his documentary, thank his fans because without them he wouldn’t be standing where he is now, thanked his four brothers who were a huge part in his journey.

“And a massive thank you to my family…who constantly support me through my personal life…as well as my career.”.

As part of the documentary, Louis grandparents and siblings were all asked to be a part of it and to answer some questions about Louis. 

The audience had a little giggle at the part when Daisy and Phoebe had explained that they saw Louis as a controlling big brother, but really he was always right. 

But what had the audience awwing was when a clip of YN came on. She was sat in her and Harry’s living room, family photos hanging on the wall behind her, but one that stood out was one of YN stood between Harry and Louis from their tour in 2014. The three wore big smiles on their faces as Harry and Louis both hugged YN close. 

“Louis always says how lucky he is…but everyone who has Louis in their life are the lucky ones…he’s just too humble to realise it”.

At YN’s words, Louis reached over and squeezed YN’s hand, a little gesture to show how much that meant to him. There were many emotions shown through the screening. Happy times, sad times and bittersweet times. Louis aim was to show all the sides to his story, and he succeeded! 

As the credits played on the screen and everyone stood to give a round of applause for a touching documentary, YN brought her brother into a big hug and whispered “Mum would be so proud of you.”.

To the world he was Louis Tomlinson, to YN he was Louis, her big brother. 

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @jerseygirlinca @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss

[ciaomarie]

Part 1: What then?

Some seemingly innocent, but truly mind-altering information is shared in a staff meeting.

Short fan fic. Low-key Sydcarmy/The Bear fluff. Post-season 2. Canon-compliant.

Location: The Bear

Time: 10:05 a.m.

The restaurant had closed lunch service on a Tuesday for a "Development Day". The Bear had been open for 5 months and had a 2 month wait list! After Family and Friends when they had all banded together the Bear crew had gotten tighter than ever. Carmen had been a outsider in his own restaurant for a couple weeks, but soon the dust settled. Even Sydney came around after 3 weeks of his patient groveling. The duo was good and soon The Bear had become one of Chicago Tribune's "Best New Restaurants." However, with success The Bear was changing fast. They had hired more full-time front and kitchen staff, which was great. The downside was that "respectful communication" and "customer complaint management" was waning a little. Things were not terrible, but Richie for whom Ever set the bar in hospitality, The Bear should always be improving, not sliding backwards. Natalie, Carmen and Sydney agreed. They also wanted to discuss new menu changes and a to-go system they would be testing soon.

"Okay, people! Let's get started" Natalie said beckoning everyone to take a seat at the front of house.

Richie stood next her "casually dressed" in a button down blue dress shirt and dark grey slacks.

He began, "As you know The Bear is on track to paying off the loan and we're the freakin' toast of the town right now, but this is not the time to take a nap. We gotta keep our eyes on the prize. So first, up facial regulation as known as RBF awareness."

Natalie tapped his shoulder and whispered, "Richie, I love your enthusiasm, but I thought we might start with an ice breaker?"

He shrugged and continued, "But Nat, has a ice breaker. Take it away".

Natalie resumed.

"So, first we want to thank each of you for being part of this dream and making it fun, rewarding, and successful. As you know The Bear is a family business and since there's new faces here we'd like to get to know you better and vice versa. We'll start with a quick round of "Best and Worst". Just pick a question out of the cup and answer it. Please keep your answers to 2 minutes."

The first question went to Randall, a young man in his early 20's with dark curly hair and thick glasses that frequently fogged in the humid kitchen. He was the new assistant pastry chef.

"What was the best place I ever lived? Hm…Guam. My dad, Army, was stationed on the base and I lived there from age 9-11. I had like 12 friends just on my block and we were always playing soccer, swimming, or riding our bikes. It was awesome."

"Thanks Randall!" Natalie chirped.

The next went to Tina.

"Ok…what is worst advice I've ever been given? Keep your head down and do what you know. That's the advice I used to give myself. Thankfully I didn't listen because now I'm a sous chef!"

Sydney who was sitting near the front between Gary and Carmy, beamed at Tina who returned the smile with a little moisture in her eyes.

The next question went to Marcus.

"Best moment in the last year? It was training at Noma, in Copenhagen. It was my first international trip. I got to stay in a houseboat, explore the city, meet cool people, and figure out that I wanted to do this maybe forever."

The last several months had been really hard due to Marcus's mom's passing. He had returned to work after a week of mourning citing that he knew she wouldn't want him to sit at home now that she was no longer sick. Despite that he was getting better every day and had come up with several new popular dessert specials. Tina was seated next to him and patted his arm.

The next few questions went to new dishwasher, Chris, Fak, and then Gary.

Sydney drew the next question and winced upon reading it. It wouldn't be possible to lie because Marcus already knew the truth.

"What was my best meal ever? Well…it was this pork confit with onions and rhubarb. Then after I had this dish called Milk and Honey."

She kept her eyes plastered on the tiny strip of paper while she spoke. In her peripheral field she could see Carm turning slightly towards her, his cornflower blue eyes boring two holes into the side of her head.

"Sounds grand. Ok, Carmy pick a question" Richie ordered wanting to get down to business by 10:30am.

Carmy didn't seem to hear him. He was on another planet.

"Yo cuz, pick a question!"

He startled and drew a question.

"Uh ok. Best part of my day? Hmmm. Closing up."

It was now Sydney's soul's turn to exit her body. Every night, with few exceptions, she and Carmy ended the night in his office to debrief on the day, perform last checks, and close together.

After a moment she felt his eyes still glancing at her. Without turning she whispered, "Later." The last thing she needed was to look at him, and forget how much time was passing, giving Richie yet another reason to tease them. Not long ago he gave them matching copies of a workplace relationship etiquette tip sheet stapled to an OSHA industrial hygiene handout before leaving them to close.

She sighed, trying to compose herself. It was no big deal. So what that Carm knew he was responsible for the best thing she ever ate? Also, they're partner-friends so it's totally normal that his favorite time of day when is they are together…alone. Right?

UH OH.

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

Sector Ʌ facts!

❤️ Sector Ʌ was the very first treehouse active in Australia. Irwin fought personally to have Moonbase instituting it;

🩷 Irwin now is fighting to have more bases around because one is not enough for the whole continent, even if there are not many dangers around;

💜 They’re not highly regarded but that will change when they saved the whole Moonbase from getting lost in space;

💙 There are only 3 main villains for Sector Ʌ: a poachers gang who kidnaps young animals (still kids after all), a man who likes to ruin kids photographs so they have to take them over and over again and a Fire Goddess that wants to burn everything down and kidnaps kids to enslave them;

🩵 There isn’t a 2x4 technician in the group, they rely on KND Global Command to get weapons/vehicles/gear and have them fixed;

💚 They have two mappists, special operatives trained to read any map and find their way everywhere;

💛 They will adopt a Wallaby who will become Numbuh 444c or… Wally. Wally loves Numbuh 444b and Numbuh 445 and can’t stand Numbuh 444a;

🧡 Their treehouse is located in the middle of the Continent, in Woop Woop. It takes time for them to reach various parts of the land; minimum is 3 hours to get to Sydney with their fastest vehicle;

🤎 Their Soopreme Leader is Numbuh 420, head of decommission is Numbuh 924 and Artic Base Soopreme Leader is Numbuh 1990. These three will be based on my fav band of all times;

♥️ Secror Z is active during this time and will disappear in 1984;

🖤 Sector Ʌ was taken out of commission in 1986, when 5 new sectors where inaugurated in the most populated areas; all operatives of Sector Ʌ had been decommissioned/moved to other places by this time;

🩶 Sector Ʌ treehouse is now a myth around Australian sectors, as no one has ever seen or found it;

🤍 Irwin and Ray got decommissioned at 13; Sydney was decommissioned at 12 after his brother disappeared; Charlie became head of decommission at Moonbase before being decommissioned at 13 as well.

[visualnovellover]

it's currently 4 am and I have yet to actually do my work but this idea has been haunting me ever since I posted it and i need to get it out before it eats me alive AND SO I DECIDED TO WRITE ABOUT IT! (it's not good or anything, this is a first for me to write in 2nd person and i wanted to try out using the games wordings as a base so udjdjdjdjjxjsj)

Wearing Your Promise Ring While Shopping

Pure!Sydney X GN PC (i wrote this with my pc Rini in mind but decided to make it vague like how pc would be described in game)

You are on the top level of the shopping center. Crowds of people leisurely strolling around in and out of stores to avoid the heat outside.

You're browsing through the displayed swimwear while waiting for Sydney to finish trying out the swimwear you recommend to them.

You felt a presence besides you as you continue to browse the shelves. Taking a glance you noticed a sleazy man right next to you, seemingly looking at the swimwear you were also looking at.

(1) Ignore

You ignored the man, thinking you're just paranoid. That is until a hand is placed on your shoulder. You tensed up as the sleazy man leaned his face closer to yours.

"Say, doesn't this swimsuit look nice on ya?" The sleazy man says gesturing towards a rather lewd pair of bikini. | + Stress

(1) Stay silent

(2) Try to move away | Increase of harassment

(3) Show off your ring | Defiant

You shoved your hand towards the sleazy man, showing off the ring on it. The metal band glinting under the light. "I have a spouse if you didn't noticed." You say as you shook off his hand on your shoulder.

That wasn't exactly a lie, but calling Sydney as your spouse has you feeling giddy and warm. | - Stress | + Love

The sleazy man scoffs and squints at the ring. "Ya look too young to be married kid. And besides I could be way better." He says as he tries to get closer to you again.

"Leave before I start screaming," you say glaring at the sleazy man. "And my spouse is a hundred times better than you could ever be."

It took a second before the sleazy man roughly shoved you back, cursing under his breath as he stomped out of the shop. | + Pain

You sighed in relief, holding your hand as you look at your ring. The metal band sits on your finger, a tiny warmth emitting from it. Looking at the ring reminds you of the happiest memory you had with Sydney. | - Stress | - Trauma

You hear footsteps near you, you looked up to see Sydney walking towards you. They look happy.

"Hey! It fit perfectly beloved." They say holding the swimwear in their hand, they're by your side as you only now noticed the light blush on their face.

"I hope this time you'll let me pay for this." You ignored what they said as you take the swimwear out of their hand, walking towards the cashier as Sydney follows you, insisting on paying for it all the way.

(1) Next

The both of you are walking back to the Temple. Sydney looked like they had fun, judging by how they took your hand in theirs without you initiating it and how theirs a skip in their step as you walk back.

You're glad that you went out today. Seeing Sydney letting loose once in a while makes you feel happy. | -- Stress | - Trauma

[dailyanarchistposts]

Queer autonomous zones and participatory publics

Bobby Noble points to ‘the simultaneity of the relations between gendered embodi- ment, sex play, and racialization inside homonormative communities, neighbour- hoods and venues for cultural production’ (Noble, 2009). Similar critiques of the queer community have been taken up by Gay Shame anarchist activists organizing in the late 1990s. In That’s Revolting! Matt/Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore docu- ments their personal experience in Gay Shame collectives in San Francisco and New York City. ‘Gay Shame emerged to create a radical alternative to the confor- mity of gay neighbourhoods, bars, and institutions – most clearly symbolized by Gay Pride’ (Sycamore, 2004: 238). Gay Shame is ‘mostly anarchist leaning’ (2004: 239), and organizes gatherings, events and direct action protests against capitalism and intersecting oppressions. A San Francisco flyer asks, ‘Are you choking on the vomit of consumerist ‘gay pride’?’ (2004: 239). Another poster entitled ‘Gay pride, my ass: It’s all about gay shame’ (2004: 240) announces an ‘autonomous space’ (2004: 240) outdoors on Tire Beach with performances, art-making, bands, instal- lations, DJs, food, kidspace, and ‘politics and play’ (2004: 240). The event hosted ‘speakers on issues including San Francisco gentrification and the US colonization of the Puerto Rican island of Vieques, as well as prison, youth, and trans activism’ (2004: 241). The range of issues and events in the ‘autonomous space’ point to a very different kind of sprawling, engaged public than Berlant and Warner’s indoor, circumscribed, queer counterpublic. ‘We encouraged people to participate in cre- ating their own radical queer space, and people argued about political issues, painted, poured concrete and made a mosaic, dyed hair, and mudwrestled naked’ (Sycamore, 2004: 241). Participation is a key element in the formation of a ‘Queer autonomous space’ (2004: 237) or zone, as are multiplicities of political focus (Puerto Rico, kids, youth, prisons, trans people, art production, gentrifica- tion and so on) and an over-arching anti-capitalist practice that includes free entrance, barter and trade, dressing to ‘ragged excess’ (2004: 240), and the provi- sion of ‘free food, T-shirts and various other gifts’ (2004: 241).

Queer autonomous zones thus are open-ended spaces in which participation of all comers is encouraged through a direct (rather than liberal) democracy model. They are facilitated via engagement with a multiplicity of intersectional anti- oppression politics. Interactions in queer autonomous spaces develop sustainable social relations and value-practices, based on mutual respect, consent, sexual lib- eration, and non-normativity, in which people engage in open-ended processes of developing alternative ways of being, feeling, thinking, engaging, acting and becoming-liberated. The question is – what’s next? How do we continue to expand our movements and theorizing to extend the becoming-liberated of queer?

Acknowledgement

I would like to thank the reviewers for their helpful comments, Jamie Heckert for encour- agement and patience with my process, and Sydney Neuman for engaged proofreading.

References

Berlant L and Freeman E (1992) Queer nationality. Boundary 2 19(1): 149–180.

Berlant L and Warner M (2000) Sex in public. In: Berlant L (ed.) Intimacy. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 311–330.

Bordo S (1990) Reading the slender body. In: Jacobus M, Fox Keller E, Shuttleworth S (eds) Body/Politics: Women and the Discourses of Science. New York: Routledge, 83–112. Castiglia C (2000) Sex panics, sex publics, sex memories. Boundary 2 27(2): 149–175. Corber RJ, Valocchi S (eds) (2003) Queer Studies: An Interdisciplinary Reader. Malden, MA: Blackwell.

Crimp D (2002) Mario montez, for shame. In: Barber SM, Clark DL (eds) Regarding Sedgwick: Essays on Queer Culture and Critical Theory. New York: Routledge, 57–70.

Deleuze G and Guattari F (1983) Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia Vol. 1. 1972. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

DeLuca KM (1999) Unruly arguments: The body rhetoric of EarthFirst!, act up, and queer nation. Argumentation and Advocacy 36(Summer): 9–21.

Duncan N (1996) Renegotiating gender and sexuality in public and private spaces. In: Duncan N (ed.) Body Space: Destabilizing Geographies of Gender and Sexuality. New York: Routledge, 125–143.

Dyer R (2006) Stereotyping. In: Durham MG, Kellner DM (eds) Media and Cultural Studies KeyWorks. Malden, MA: Blackwell, 353–365.

Heckert J (2004) Sexuality/identity/politics. In: Purkis J, Bowen J (eds) Changing Anarchism. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 101–116.

Hennessy R (1994–95) Queer visibility in commodity culture. Cultural Critique 29(Winter): 31–76.

Jeppesen S and Visser L (Leahfish) (1996) Projectile: Stories about Puking. Toronto: self- published.

Les Panthe‘ res Roses (2004) Operation ‘‘Pepto-bismol SVP!’’ URL (accessed 12 July 2008): http:/lespantheresroses.org.

McCall L (2005) The complexity of intersectionality. Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society 30(3): 1771–1800.

Noble B (2009) Trans-Culture in the (White) City: Taking a Pass on a Queer Neighbourhood. URL (accessed 8 May 2009): http:/nomorepotlucks.org/article/ego/ trans-culture-white-city-taking-pass-queer-neighbourhood.

Sullivan N (2003) A Critical Introduction to Queer Theory. New York: New York University Press.

Sycamore M, Berstein M (eds) (2004) That’s Revolting! Queer Strategies for Resisting Assimilation. Brooklyn, NY: Soft Skull.

Vade D (2005) Expanding gender and expanding the law: Toward a social and legal con- ceptualization of gender that is more inclusive of transgender people. Michigan Journal of Gender and Law 11: 253–316.

Warner M (2002) Publics and Counterpublics. New York: Zone Books.

On the Author

Sandra Jeppesen is an activist, writer, and Assistant Professor in Communication Studies at Concordia University, Montreal, Canada. Her research is in guerrilla texts and autonomous media, including analysis of discourses produced through anti-poverty activism, anti-colonial no-border activism, radical feminist and queer collectives, anti-racist pedagogies, and other social movement texts. Address: Communication Studies Department, Concordia University, 7141 Sherbrooke Street West, CJ 3.230, 3rd Floor, Montreal, Canada H4B 1R6.

[1] Following Vade’s important article (2005) advocating the ‘Gender Galaxy’ which reveals the falsity of the gender/sex divide and the negative legal impact of this distinction on trans people, I am using the term ‘gender’ to be comprehensive.

[2] In the USA this is particularly true. In Canada same-sex marriage and human rights are protected by the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, and immigration processes are begin- ning to include same-sex partners in sponsorship claims, as well as considering persecution for sexuality as a basis for refugee claims. These processes however remain heteronorma- tive. I’d like to thank Melissa White for sharing her insights and research on this issue.

[in-death-we-fall]

Sex, Drugs and One Armed Groupies

...is gonna be the title of this since there kinda isn't one. Scans were posted by @fuckyeswednesday13 a long time ago. I really liked this article and now it's nice and easy to read (especially the columns. Ask me how much I hated the columns.) Enjoy! (drive link)

UPDATED FULL VERSION HERE

The Big Day Out. The Australian travelling musical circus that steamrolls its way around Australia and New Zealand every winter with the hottest bands on the planet flying from all over the globe to join down under’s best bands in a mayhem filled fortnight. This year’s line-up, features among others, The Foo Fighters, Queens of the Stone Age, Jane’s Addiction, Jimmy Eat World, The Hard Ons and deathglam monstrosities, the Murderdolls. So far, the Mid West (sic) based five-piece outfit have been the cream of the festival, appropriately headlining the ‘Essentials’ stage. This is the band’s first time in the Antipodes and quizzical music fans have crowded to see the much-talked about live set. With Sydney copping the biggest crowds of all the legs on the tour, the band are preparing something special. But at 3pm in the afternoon you wouldn’t know it. Most of the band are still in bed from the night before, well, actually… the week before.

The ‘Dolls have been in Sydney for five days before their Big Day Out show and not finding much to do early on in the week they’ve just been getting down to the (sic) rock’n’roll’s most popular pastime: hard drinking. Drummer ‘Big’ Ben ‘The Ghoul’ Graves and bass player Eric Griffin are recovering from last night’s binge. While singer Wednesday and guitarist Joey Jordison are recovering from the night before the night before. Acey Slade, who maintains his sobriety, but still stays out ‘til dawn, has been up since 11am and is the only one ready for the show. With the band on stage at 7:15pm, things need doing. Staggering through their beer can and ‘paraphernalia’-strewn rooms to the showers, they’re down in their van and on the way out to the Big Day Out site just after 4pm.

Situated at the same place that hosted the Sydney 2000 olympics, the festival facilities are first rate and the sell-out crowd of 52,000 festival-goers are making the most of it. The temperature’s pushing a blistering 35°C and being the middle of a drought-ridden summer in Australia, everything’s dry, dusty and cracked. It’s a good 40-minute drive from the city to the festival and the sun’s stinging in through the van windows. Not big fans of the sunlight, the Murderdolls have got their leather jackets up over their heads to avoid even the slightest hint of a tan.

In the cool, air-conditioned shade of backstage I get to sit down with Joey Jordison and singer Wednesday 13 to gind out how the band are doing after their meteoric rise over the past eight months. Joey is straight down the line, measured and professional. “This si the first Big Day Out for all of us. Slipknot have only been down here once but not that (sic) this festival. This is something I’ve really wanted to play – something I’ve wanted to do for a really long time.”

For Wednesday, this is another notch on his rise as an international rock’n’roller. “It’s awesome,” he says. “I’ve always wanted to be out on the front of a rock’n’roll band at a festival like this. After struggling doing my own band for six years I actually quit my job back in April and I’ve been touring every since. I’ve done all the things I ever dreamed about. I’ve been to Europe three times, Japan twice and here we are now in Australia and that has all been pretty much in the last six months! Holy shit we’re doing some things that some bands have never done!”

“We just checked out the videotape from the Auckland show the other day and fuck man, it was awesome!” enthuses Joey. “People are saying we are pulling the most people to that stage out of everyone. Our band has been doing really well especially since we’ve only been going for a short time. We hope that after the BDO we’ll be able to come back and do some real headlining shows down here. We are having fun though, thinking about it, we’ve never had so many days off between shows before, it’s more like the Big Day Off!”

The band wasn’t supposed to be so idle. Most overseas bands on the BDO bill play a bunch of satellite shows in various cities around the country and for a month prior, the Murderdolls had been slated to perform a Sydney show with fellow US rockers The Deftones. But with very little warning, the Murderdolls were dumped from the bill just before the show. What really pissed off Joey and the lads was a lot of the Murderdolls fans had bought tickets on the basis that the band would be playing but in the end had to watch the Deftones supported by ex-At The Drive-In chancers, Sparta.

Without much choice in the matter the Murderdolls issued a statement on their website apologising to their fans and kept trying to fly their flag with some instore appearances at local record stores. One in particular at Utopia Records, was insane. There was such a roar when the band turned up, they looked truly surprised at the number of kids who had showed up, most dressed in black and red outfits.

“Someone told us there was only going to be about 150 kids, which was supposed to be a good turn-out for Utopia records for a new band,” retells Joey. “But when we turned up there (sic) almost 500! We talked to fans and signed everything that they had. We were there for a good three and a half hours. And at the Channel V interview it was pretty much the same story. Hordes of kids that wouldn’t let us get away.”

“That’s the cool thing with our fans,” explains Wednesday. “We’re not a radio band or an MTV band with this created army of little kids which I think is more pure than being the Number One radio band or liking it because someone tells you to like it. I know that our fans are real. It is really cool to see these hordes of kids show up, they are dressed like us, they know everything about us, it is just awesome.”

Thinking further ahead fans will be please to know the band are not going to let up on the groundswell already created by the Murderdolls. “I have to go back and finish recording some Slipknot stuff,” reveals Joey. “Then we (the Murderdolls) are going to do some more touring. There’s usually a three to four month sort of break between recording and when an album comes out so we are going to tour pretty much all the way from the end of May all the way to maybe the beginning of October. Which will be good because there’ll be less sunlight at that time of year,” jokes Wednesday raising his non-existent eyebrows and throwing his arms, heavily tattooed with b-grade horror heroes, into the air.

As the hot afternoon drifts into an only slightly less simmering evening, there’s a small problem with guitarist Acey. He’s got indigestion. This amounts to a small crisis because first aid officials must follow procedure and administer the medicine. This takes two St. John’s Ambulance men on pushbikes in a five minute ride from their base at the side of the main stadium. Very un-rock’n’roll indeed.

With the gig just 45 minutes away, the boys are pacing around their trailer, having their pics taken for Hammer. Acey inside in front of the mirror still applying the last of his make-up, Ghoul is getting powdered up, Wednesday’s still with the photographer, while Joey’s nervously pacing around, in the trailer, out the trailer, back in… Eric meanwhile is ready for the stage and cracks open the obligatory bottle of Jack Daniel’s. As a Murderdolls ritual, they’re applying the slap, the band have to listen to Kiss. “Must. Have. Kiss.” stipulates Joey. “‘All American Man’! We sometimes change that to ‘All American Ghoul’,” chimes in the Ghoul.

Just 10 minutes before showtime and the long lanky frame of Ben Graves is stretched spider-like up against the dressing room wall. “I’ll be in pain afterwards,” he explains. Wednesday has by now finished his solo shots with Hamer’s photographer. The day is hot enough anyway, and under the photographers lights the heat is even more stifling. ‘Jesus, it’s fucking hot!” exclaims the frontman. “But I don’t mind… I’m a naturally dead person in front of a camera” he laughs.

More Kiss blares out from the dressing room, this time ‘Dr Love’! Then the moment comes: ground fucking zero at the Big Day Out! The band clamber into the van and head around the back way to the Essentials stage. The bottle of Jack’s being passed around as they approach the stage the band take a quick peak (sic) to see how the crow’s building up. It’s the biggest yet, taking up most of the grassy area out the back of the main stadium. Joey – who regularly suffers from pre-gig nerves as his pre-stage vomiting on Slipknot’s ‘Disasterpiece (sic)’ DVD proves in all its technicolour glory – is bricking it.

Five minutes before the band are due to hit the powerchords and the guys are milling around in the wings. Ghoul is banging on some warm-up pads and everyone is getting psyched. They’ve left the Kiss CD backstage so they have to hum ‘All American Man’ together. Then they make their way to the stage.

A couple of huge Murderdolls logos adorn the stage and in an eruption of noise and energy, the Dolls take the stage and instantly kick off with ‘Dawn of The Dead’. Jordison in black leather Gestapo hat is jumping around stage left, Acey is wailing away stage right while Eric bangs away on the bass doing his best Nikki Sixx impression, while the Ghoul wrecks the trap kit. Wednesday is the last to take the stage and screaming, “We are the dead, coming for you!” And the crowd goes fucking wild.

The kids down the front, dressed up in full glam-goth regalia, know every word and sing along fervently with the band while among the throng watching from the side of stage are some of the biggest names in the Australian music industry. Members of bands like 28 days, Machine Gun Fellatio, Cog, Jimmy Eat World, Pre-Shrunk, and Sparta all stand wide eyed and mouths agape at the outrageous rock revisionism being unleashed onstage.

By the time the band have launched into ‘I (sic) Was a Teenage Zombie’, ‘Let’s Go To War’ and ‘Slit My Wrists (sic)’, the crows know what they’re in for. Most who have showed up for curiosity (sic) sake are still hanging around, but if anything the crowd is building and everyone looks like they are right into it having fun. The intro to ‘Twist My Sister’ is a kid’s nursery rhyme ‘Old McDonald’ which gets the whole crowd singing along.

Unbelievably, some lunatic in the crowd starts throwing bangers at the stage, but the fireworks only make it as far as the front row of fans before blowing up in their faces. Wednesday tries to get the guy to quit while geeing up the rest of the crowd. “All the people down the front tell the people at the back to ‘Die Die Die… my bride!’ he yells as the band grind into the song…

Today’s set includes two new songs, and we can report that both are killer kitsch rock rippers. The first, set for legendary status is called ‘The Devil Made Me Do It… And I’ll Do It Again’ while the second is the set closer, a crowd sing along gem ‘I Love to Say Fuck’. Wednesday grabs his big black umbrella, emblazoned with the word FUCK, Eric, Acey, and Joey are going crazy, jumping up and down in unison, Ghoul is all arms and legs behind the kit while Wednesday is right down in the crowd’s face urging them to stick their fingers in the air and yell ‘Fuck!’. It looks great to watch. “It isn’t choreographed,” says Wednesday later. “Everything’s pretty much spontaneous. There are some things like we all jump on an ascent in the music or whatever but everything else is stuff that just happens on stage.”

They (sic) crowd are almost passing out from the combination of frenzied activity and the extreme heat, but still manage to scream out for more as the band leave the stage. “A lot of people don’t know that’s what drives a show,” explains Wednesday about his relationship with the audience. “You have to make fans feel part of the event and I think we do it better than anyone else.”

The band then jump back into the van for the two minute trip back to their dressing room behind the main stage. When they get back there the guys are all super hyped up. Excitedly buzzing around their dressing room, drinking beers, telling jokes. Joey is busy analysing the gig, and the BDO circus in general. He and Wednesday have got an interview to do with Australian TV scheduled for 8:45pm. It’s almost 9pm and Joey has another issue: “I want to eat! I must eat before I talk!” he exclaims. The interview is postponed for 20 minutes.

Bass player Eric is hanging around, so I grab him for a quick chat. Of all the Murderdolls, Eric seems the shyest but is probably the one most up for anything, especially if it is party related. He may only be small, (even in his Ace Frehley six-inch platforms he’s still barely average height!) but he’s a true rock’n’roller with a party attitude to match. “‘Machine Gun Fellatio’ that’s a cool fuckin’ name,” he squeaks discussing some of the other bands on the BDO bill. And he does squeak, kinda, like annoying Brit ‘comedian’ Joe Pasquale.

I bring up the fact that esteemed record producer, Nick Launey (Silverchair, INXS) was side of stage watching the show and had an interesting story to tell me about Eric. “I think I know where this is going,” smiles Eric slyly. “I met him about two years ago in LA at a party and we were all fucked up. I got dragged down three flights of stairs by my hair and he reckoned it was the biggest rock’n’roll moment of ‘00 for him. First impressions count, man.”

“It was so rock’n’roll!” Launey informs me later. “It was the launch of Orgy’s album and they had these models dressed as prostitutes lying on a bed and Eric jumps up on the bed with them, which of course you weren’t allowed to do. So the bouncers are dragging him out by his hair, kicking and screaming, down the stairs. His head was literally bouncing down each stair like a cartoon character and all the while he’s just got his middle fingers up on each hand and is yelling out ‘Fuck You!’, ‘Get Fucked!’, ‘Fuck you, mind the hair!’ Somehow he got back into the party and I asked him ‘how’s your head?’ and he just said “Whaddya mean?” - it was just so rock’n’roll!”

Eric has pre-arranged with their tour driver to take him over to the Boiler Room, where the BDO’s electronica acts are playing. He wants to see German electronic innovators Kraftwerk. “One of the bands I was in before the Murderdolls was very digital and computer based,” he reveals. “Kraftwerk don’t do a lot of live shows and I don’t think I’ll ever get the opportunity to see them again. They’re pretty important to the genre and even if I catch just 10 minutes of their set I think it will be worth coming over. A short ride through the back entrance, we arrive at the Boiler Room and manage to get in, via a bit of a labyrinth, through the backdoor and into the main arena just at the side of the stage. The Kraftwerk guys are standing robot-like in front of their computers while the huge dome-like venue is dripping with sweat from the 10.000+ strong punters who have basically been locked in the room all day listening (sic) the dance bands. We get a good vantage point but after about five minutes we’re leaving. “Jeez! That was the most boring piece of crap I’ve seen!” exclaims Eric when he gets back to the dressing room. “But it was worth going because I scored some drugs!”

Acey’s just hanging around backstage with his camera and a little doll from The Nightmare Before Christmas. He has a ritual where he takes a photograph of the doll in front of landmarks all around the world. “I have him in front of the Eiffel Tower for instance,” he says. “The other day I took a pic of him in front of the Sydney Opera House.” And with that he takes a photo of the doll sitting in front of a sign that says ‘Sleazy’. Hmmm. Odd man.

Acey and Eric are loving every minute of the Murderdolls ride. They’re both on their first trip to Australia and according to both of them it is (sic) has been “Cool as hell!” “The Gold Coast was really on,” says Eric. “It’s been kinda mellow since we got to Sydney because we’ve had four or five days off before this show so we’ve just been trying to find out what’s been going on. It’s been building gradually… and we’ve been partying a lot – maybe too much,” he adds sheepishly. Rick the tour manager – who’s passing by – agrees: “Yep, they’ve been very naughty boys – they’ve got to go to bed early tonight with no supper,” he jokes.

“He knows we’re the most dangerous band on the tour,” counters Eric. It’s a fact that seems to deter any other bands partying with the Murderdolls too. “The only band that has even reached out to us are the guys in Jane’s Addiction, in particular, Dava Navarro,” offers Acey. “He actually came out of his way to come over and introduce himself. And pretty much comes up and talks to us everyday he sees us along with the drummer, Steven [Perkins]. Everyone else is just kinda like, ‘What’s Up?’ Maybe it’s because we don’t look like we’re the most approachable band. Then again no-one has done anything to piss us off at all.”

No one may be talking to the Murderdolls but there is talk of the Murderdolls all over BDO. Most centres around their appearance with most Australian musical luminaries agreeing the band are the best dressed at the festival. One member of Aussie band the Resin Dogs even goes as far as to say, “The Murderdolls rock the wardrobe”. Acey is kinda flattered but non-plussed by the comments. “What image?” he exclaims. “This is how we are all day! Obviously we knock it up a notch for the show but this is the real thing. We don’t care if people like us as sexual deviants or not, but one thing’s for sure – they’ll fucking remember us.”

Big Ben Graves strides over to join us at the table. “Did I hear the words sexual deviant?” he announces in his deeply rounded US accent. “I’ve always been like that! Some people have a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other – I just two devils. There is NO voice of reason!”

We ask him if he has had any interesting adventures since he’s been in Australia and then instantly regret it…

“Dude, it has been nothing but interesting adventures. For instance last night, he (indicating Eric) he almost screwed a one-armed girl!”

“She had three tits and one arm,” giggles the dimunitive (sic) bassist.

“Yeah. It was weird,” continues the Ghoul, “one of her arms was like a stump and it looked like it had a nipple on it. I must admit I almost fucked her just for the freakiness of it.”

And with that starter for 10, the Ghoul is off. He starts ranting on with these sick freak jokes that crack everyone up and inside a minute you get a window to his personality. “Our drummer is one bona fide sick fuck,” jokes Wednesday of him later. “He stills (sic) freaks us out. I’ll just look at him sometimes and say to myself, ‘holy shit, dude, what planet are you from?’”

“It was weird on the Gold Coast,” says Eric, picking up on the tour adventure thread. “The girls there were the hottest chicks I had ever seen in my life but by the same token I had never got as much shit for the way I look than I have there as well. It was like two opposite poles. At first it was, ‘hey freak, where’s the funeral?’ and the next was, ‘sit down have a drink with us.”

“As far as people looking at you weird, I found Sydney is where I got the stares,” admits the Ghoul. “Sydney sucks! Although we did have some girls staking out our hotel which was pretty funny and I did have an over-zealous fan thrown out of the bar. The guy was just touching me a little more than he should and I didn’t like it,” he says animatedly. “I was like, ‘man, don’t make me waste this perfectly good bottle of Heineken by breaking it over your head. I’ve done it before’. Eric looks at him and says, “yeah he has!” But he was on something. I remember thinking ‘I want whatever he’s on… times ten!”

“I gotta say though, the Sydney crowd today was one of the best crowds we’ve had so far,” offers Acey as he joins the throng. “It was insane. It is good for us this tour, because the kids don’t know what we are all about yet so we have to prove ourselves. By the end of the set they all had their hands in the air.”

By this time Joey and Wednesday have finished their feed and their hastily re-scheduled interview and are looking for some more mischievous fun for themselves. “First of all, I’m going to go back over to the stage we played because there are a lot of kids hanging around over there still wanting to see us,” explains Joey. “Then after that, I’m gonna go directly where ever (sic) the free drinks are at…” Suddenly, Eric’s doubled over in the doorway of the dressing room. It’s been 45 minutes since he visited Kraftwerk in the Boiler Room and the pharmaceuticals are beginning to take effect. We ask if he’s OK. “Yeah man, I just think I’m gonna spew!” he grins. The rest of the band are baiting him ceaselessly.

“C’mon chuck it up man!” they urge and all crack up laughing together.

In the middle of all the commotion Wednesday is taking a piss in the corner of the dressing room. The place is a wreck: there are empty bottles of booze, food scrapes (sic), squashed fruit, hairdryers, make-up, boots, clothes (black and red if (sic) course) and of course a giant mirror. Wednesday is actually pissing into a bottle of Corona. At the same time I am just about to pick up my freshly opened bottle of Corona from the table which is besides (sic) a now suspicious looking bottle. “Yeah I always piss in the empty bottles,” giggles Wednesday. And then I leave ‘em on the table just to piss off anyone who might want to grab some of our rider or whatever. Just be careful just to get bottles from down there in the ice box, he laughs mischievously. Suddenly the oddly warm bottle in my hand seems less than appealing…

As the clock turns 1am the only people left at the stadium are the cleaners, the roadies and the still-partying Murderdolls. Last to leave, the van is parked just outside the dressing room and all I can see through the opened door is the Ghoul chucking around a baguette, now baked hard as a rock over the course of the stifling hot day. “Look at this - it could be used as a weapon to seriously maim you!” he screams bouncing the French loaf off the wall. A post vomit Eric cracks up, as the two hold a mock baguette joust oblivious to the outside world. They eventually make off back to their hotel room in the city, but don’t hang there for too long. The weekend lights of Sydney beckon and they cruise down William street in King’s Cross, to an underground rock venue called Club 77. It’s glam night, just their crowd and they spend the wee hours of the morning hanging out with fans and getting stuck into the sauce with a vengeance. Australia has officially been Murderdolled!

Blood and Glitter

Gavin Braddeley charts the rise of shock rock

Glam is hard evidence that what goes around comes around. Long dismissed as the definitive climax of 70s bad taste, in recent years glam rock has arisen from the grave, albeit with a veil of cobwebs draped over its original dusting of glitter. Originally a violent reaction to the 60s happy fad for all things natural, worthy, meaningful and drab, glam was all about being deliberately artificial, selfish, throwaway and garish.

In the States Alice Cooper was impaling baby dolls and throwing blood bottles around the stage from ‘70 onwards culminating in the vaudeville theatrics of the ‘Welcome To My Nightmare’ album/tour of ‘76.

Back in the UK, the Glam pioneer was lame pop pixie Marc Bolan (sic), photogenic frontman with T-Rex, who caused a sensation when he took to the stage on Top of the Pops in ‘71 with glitter under his eyes, clad in what looked suspiciously like drag. Never one to miss a trick, the lizard-like David Bowie soon jumped from the hippy ship to take on his otherworldly Ziggy Stardust persona.

The older generation may have thought that smearing make-up on your face and covering your clothes in sequins made you look like a ‘pooftah’. Alice Cooper got around this by replacing Glam’s overt ‘fagginess’ with ghoulish melodrama, prompting one critic to observe that Americans were more comfortable with necrophilia than homosexuality. And then came Kiss. Gene Simmons’ monstrous blood vomiting, fire breathing ‘Demon’ persona enslaved an entire generation of US children crossing Glam’s theatricality with heavy metal machismo to create one of the most influential bands in rock music history.

W.A.S.P. and Mötley Crüe supercharged Kiss’s sleaze and violence quotient to spectacular effect in the 80s, and provide the missing link between Glam and the Murderdolls, who happily cite the back-combed bad boys as a large part of their creative DNA. The chief inheritor of the Glam tradition in the last decade, however, is cross-dressing controversialist Marilyn Manson. Bowie may have metaphorically murdered his creation Ziggy Stardust in the summer of ‘74, while Bolan (sic) died more literally in a car accident three years later, but quarter-of-a-century on, Manson used his own dark arts to conjure their spirit on ‘Mechanical Animals’, his own tribute to pop’s most decadent decade.

Dead… and loving it!

The Murderdolls’ five favourite movie death scenes of all time…

The Murderdolls are proof positive that nothing gets some folks’ creative juices flowing quite so freely as a truly delicious cinematic death scene. Joey and Wednesday have a few favourites – both carnage connoisseurs identifying the ‘74 classic power toolfest The Texas Chainsaw Massacre as the gory cream of the crop – a movie currently being remade with a certain Mr. Manson in the soundtrack composer’s chair. (As a curious aside, you never actually see the girl hung on the hook – just a shadow – but such is the film’s sordid impact that most viewers swear you do!)

Joey 1. Texas Chainsaw Massacre “The girl on the hook.”

2. Friday The 13th Part IV “When the knife comes through the bed and impales the chick.”

3. The Exorcist “When the priest is hucked out through the plate glass window.”

4. A Nightmare on Elm Street “Where the girl is getting dragged across the rooftop.”

5. Necromancy “Where a group of devils and monsters take a girl apart.”

Wednesday 1. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre “The girl on the hook.”

2. Dawn of the Dead “When the spiked ball comes down and rips the guy’s head apart.”

3. Phantasm “A silver ball hits the guy in the head and sucks out all his brains.”

4. Hellraiser “Where (sic) the end sequence where the guy is being chased by all these hooks. They attach themselves to him and rip him apart.”

5. Nightmare On Elm Street “Where Freddy rips out the guy’s veins and uses them like strings controlling a puppet.”

Schlock n’ Roll

B-movie classics that have influenced shock rockers of now and then…

Some horror movies are best watched not so much with your tongue in your cheek, as thrust firmly through it, films that by accident or design are more about fun than fear. The same could be said of numerous horror loving bands, including the Murderdolls, where an ‘everyday is Halloween’ ethos prevails. Here are a few examples of B movie blood fests which may not have won any Oscars, have been paid tribute to by schlock loving bands over the years…

Plan 9 From Outer Space (1957) It is no surprise that the mother-of-all cult movies inspired the mother-of-all cult bands, and when Glenn Danzig created a label to release early Misfits material he dubbed it ‘Plan 9’. Frequently voted the worst movie of all time with its ludicrous script, mind bogglingly bad special effects, cardboard sets, and even more cardboard artistry, Plan 9 From Outer Space is irresistibly entertaining. Directed by the cross-dressing caliph of crap Ed Wood Junior, featuring proto-goth babe Vampira and Bela Lugosi (dying of drug addiction, he was replaced mid production by a stand-in who looks nothing like him).

The Abominable Dr Phibes (1971) Featuring horror cinema’s kind of camp Vincent Price as the fiendish Phibes, avenging the death of his wife using maniacal methods borrowed from the biblical plagues, all against wonderful, strangely psychedelic sets. Also possessed of a strange psychedelic sensibility are punk pioneers the Damned, though in the 80s, lead singer Dave Vanian’s horror sensibilities took centre stage, attracting a goth following. The 80 track ‘13th Floor Vendetta’ is a classic example of the band’s game-topping which, if you listen carefully, is all about ol’ Doc Phibes.

Mars Attacks! (1996) Director Tim Burton’s tribute to the drive-in shockers of the 50s and 60s, Mars Attacks! was actually based upon a ‘62 series of bubblegum cards, discontinued because of their gruesomely graphic pictures of earthlings being exterminated by alien invaders. As such this inspiration might suggest Mars Attacks! has little by way of plot, but for anyone with a weakness for vintage schlock sci-fi it’s a true Technicolor treat. This must certainly include the Misfits and when they reformed, they did so without the blessing of founder Glenn Danzig, but with their monster movie obsessions intact – among a multitude of horror movie tributes on their ‘97 comeback album ‘American Psycho’ was ‘Mars Attacks’ (and even an instrumental coincidentally titled ‘Abominable Dr Phibes’!)

I Was A Teenage Werewolf (1957) The drive-in movies of the 50s and 60s typically featured juvenile delinquents or monsters, and this bargain-basement effort delivered both in one lurid package. Before becoming ‘Pa’ on TV’s Little House on the Prairie Michael Landon stars as a troubled teen – though when he starts growing hair in strange places, it’s more than just hormones to blame. A howl from beginning to end, Teenage inspired a number on ‘Songs the Lord Taught Us’, the ‘80 debut from drive-in movie loving ghoulish rockers The Cramps.

Murder, mayhem and a right old mess

Minging Murderdoll tales from the Big Day Out

Who is the messiest Murderdoll of them all? Wednesday: “That would be Eric and The Ghoul. They are just messy as fuck. But you know you’ve just got to get used to living with these people. We’ve been on the road since July. You live on a bus for six weeks which means you’ve got (sic) live in everyone else’s shit.”

Who is the tidy anal doll? Joey: “No-one. We’re all pretty fuckin’ messy.” Wednesday: “I just took two garbage bags of mess out of my room. And just put it in the hallway. Just full of chicken bones and beer bottles and all sorts of shit like that, it was just smelling really bad so I had to get rid of it.”

So you do that yourself? Wednesday: “I don’t let the cleaning staff come into my room and tidy up. I put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign for the whole week I am there.” Joey: “The housekeepers are scared shitless to come into our rooms anyway so we keep it easy for them and put the ‘Do Not Disturb” signs up the whole time. They are going to be so scared to come into our rooms and clean up after we’ve been there for a fuckin’ week!”

[lovelytsunoda]

welcome to wherever you are (the lore behind the verse)

'sup guys, here is the long awaited post about the very real lore behind the welcome to wherever you are series! i am a big fan of music from the eighties, specifically rock and new wave. i was really inspired to write this series shortly after learning about the life and times of inxs, a band i have loved since i was a kid listening to 'the stairs' for the first time. this is a very niche special interest area, and i feel like sharing the lore would really add to the series. so, without further ado, the real life history behind one of my favorite reader inserts. the lore is under the cut :)

y/n elodia heaven hutchence, was two years old when her father, australian rock god, michael hutchence took his own life in a sydney hotel room. while his death occurred in 1997, and lance stroll was born in 1998, i have adjusted (and been purposely vague) about his time of death to make the ages for the story line up. she was raised by her single mother, and eventual stepfather paul, with the help of her father's ex-bandmates, kirk, gary, tim, andrew and jon. of the four, she's closest to kirk for reasons she can't explain.

given her father's popularity in australia, comparisons were not easy to escape. she leads a very private life, away from the prying eyes of the gossip magazines. every few years, she carefully composes a statement that she releases to the press, giving minor, inconsequential life updates.

now, it is important to note that while the basis of this au is based in real life, almost all of it is fiction. the true story of michael hutchence and the people he left behind, including daughter tiger lily, is sad.

here is a link to an article by the new zealand herald that talks about his downward spiral, brought on by a massive brain injury he suffered in the early nineties. as a result of this injury, he was left unable to smell or taste. he also lost his ability to regulate his emotions, and was prone to angry outbursts, a sharp change from a man who friends had said was calm, lively and full of spirit.

helpful links about the life and legacy of michael hutchence: inxs wikipedia page, michael's wikipedia page, podcast episode on michaels death, inxs' first interview since the death of micheal hutchence

to this day, saxophonist and guitarist kirk pengilly maintains that micheal spoke to him in a dream just days after his death, with the singer saying ‘I’m alright now, you don’t need to worry about me any more’

it's stated that micheal had a fear of not being loved, and a confirmed fear of growing old. i'd like to think that these are traits baby hutchence shared with her father until she met lance.

despite being australian by birth, micheal was buried in los angeles, where his mother lived. he is buried in the same cemetery as matthew perry. baby hutchence has never visited his grave.

lance and y/n would have met through a friend. and by friend, of course I mean kirk. kirk and his wife would have gone to a grand prix, and when kirk first laid eyes on lance, he had a gut feeling that he was a good fit for yn.

their first date would have been low key, on the beach at sunset. a picnic followed by a trip out on tim’s boat (before tim lost his fingers in a fishing accident).

they were married two years later. andrew thought they were rushing into it too fast. gary and kirk thought that when you know, you know (they also have four divorces between the two of them, so what do they know?)

all y/n and lance knew was that they were truly and madly in love, and that’s exactly where our au starts.

for those who want the full inxs story, please consider watching ‘never tear us apart’.

[where-the-wind-travels]

giselle & her timeline ✦ edits by me

if you don't know who giselle is, she's a transfem version of aiden i came up with for a hss au (the same au my oc darlene comes from, she's also dating darlene) that i've had in mind for quite some time but never really posted about it

also, hope yall don't mind that i literally just used a dakota winchester base for her 😭 i did think about using aiden for upper face and dakota for lower face, but i feel like just this base would make a great f!aiden feel free to correct me if i'm wrong

(under the edits are a lot of semi drabble headcanons that i swear i didn't mean to write that long but i couldn't stop myself 😭)

book 2, winter formal outfit —

(here koh had been helping her physically transition all the way since book 1, but i'm starting from book 2 because that's when she comes out to her parents, meaning the winter formal is the first time she ever wears feminine clothing in public)

Giselle: "Everyone... hope I'm not late."

Darlene: [jaw drops] "Gi, you look like..."

Emma: "...a princess."

Myra: "A literal princess! Girl, you look like you're 5 seconds away from singing about letting it go." [Giselle rolls her eyes at Myra]

Michael: "Where'd you even get that dress from?"

Giselle: "Ah, this is my mom's prom dress from the 90s. She heard the words winter formal and begged me to try it on. I told her 'no, mom, it's fine, I can wear a suit if you want me to', since... you know, she's not used to seeing me in stuff like dresses and skirts yet, but she practically shoved me into this dress."

Darlene: [holding Giselle's hand] "She made the right choice."

book 3, spring casual appearance —

Giselle: "I... tried doing something with my hair. I hope it looks good, because I really don't want to go back to my old hair."

Caleb: "It does look good on you, but why the face?"

Giselle: [surprised] "What face?"

Maria: "You don't really look like you like it. Do you regret getting your hair done?"

Giselle: "No, it's not the hair..."

Emma: "Then what is it? Your clothes?"

Giselle: [nods] "Mmhm. My parents bought me these. I don't want to be ungrateful because... my parents support me enough to buy me clothes, and there are plenty of trans kids out there whose parents don't even want them in their home. But..."

Darlene: "But what?"

Giselle: "I don't like this style they're assigning me. It reminds me too much of my old self. And I don't just want to be the same person I was before, but in girl form."

Sydney: "Are you saying you'd like to try a new style?"

Darlene: "You'd look good in anything, Gi. No matter if it's girly, tomboyish, alternative, or even country girl."

Myra: [laughs] "Imagine that... 'Yeehaw, my captain!'"

Michael: "Myra, cowboys don't have captains. That's pirates."

Giselle: [giggles] "Ezra is trying to get me to join the dark side and turn into a grunge girl. I don't think I want that, really, but I do feel like I want to make a statement now... Is there an alternative style that's girlier but still eye catching, without any spikes or chains or ripped fishnets?"

Maria: "...I think there is."

book 3, prom outfit —

Cameron: "Giselle! Hey, wait up!"

Giselle: "Huh? Ah, hey there. What did you need?"

Cameron: "Nothing much, I just wanted to congratulate you."

Giselle: "Me...? What for?"

Cameron: "What not for? You're one of the strongest and most talented people I know. I might have known you for only three months, but I know this year has been a wild ride for you. You've been through pretty much everything and still manage to come out on top. I'm... really proud of you."

Ezra: "We all are."

Giselle: [blushes] "Oh, I... thank you... Normally I like compliments and-- and even look for them myself, but I just... don't know what to say for this one." [Cameron and Ezra laugh]

Cameron: "I have to say, you're kind of my role model. Not just because of all your talents in band, but also, I wish I could've figured myself out like you did. It took me years to figure out my identity, let alone how I wanted to present myself."

Giselle: "Speaking of that... I'm sorry, everyone, but I've been thinking about this for a while, and I... don't think I want to be in band anymore."

[everyone's jaw drops]

Myra: "What?! Girl, what's gotten into you?"

Giselle: "Don't get me wrong, I still love music! Who would I be if I didn't? But... composing, instruments, band, I want to leave all of that behind. I don't know if permanently... I hope not, but at least for now I want to focus on something else."

Ezra: "Something else as in what?"

Giselle: "...Promise you all won't laugh? [everyone nods] Well, as in... performance? Not performing as in playing songs, but performing as in--"

Cameron: "Dancing?"

Giselle: "Mmhm. When the year started, I was not only super insecure of myself but also an awful dancer, and Darlene helped me with both of those things. I want to try incorporating it into my life... for her and for myself."

summer break appearance —

Giselle: "Hey everyone! I brought popsicles."

Darlene: "Oh... my."

Sydney: "That is the most sparkly outfit I've ever seen you in."

Myra: "And also the most pink. I thought you didn't even like pink, what happened to you?"

Giselle: [shrugs] "Maybe I was just in the mood for something different. Remember spring quarter, when I told you all about wanting to find my style and all that? Well... I'm pretty sure I found it."

Emma: "You did? Please tell us all about it, Gi!"

Giselle: "So I'm reading about this fashion subculture that lets girls go all out. I'm talking super flashy clothes and hair, so many cute accessories, and their makeup is so pretty... they even have hangout spaces just for them!"

Sydney: "Really?"

Giselle: "Yeah, it's called gal... I can't believe I didn't know this existed before! Now I want to become one, and I'm not sure where to even start."

Michael: "Giselle, you're drooling."

Maria: "No, she's not."

Michael: "But she's about to be if no one stops her."

class act appearance —

[cat-esper]

WIP Questionnaire

I was tagged to do this by @teacupsandstarlight

In return, I shall be gently tagging @awleeofficial, @illarian-rambling, and @ahordeofwasps + open tag!

Questions:

What was the first part of your wip that you created?

The Enochians. The initial inspiration for Records was actually Peter Mohrbacher's artwork which I saw at a con. I imagined a world where these vast and horrific angels just appeared in the sky over a world that was basically their sandbox. All I had to figure out was who lived in the world and what they would do about it.

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

I picture Records having a whole intro title and credits sequence with very 80s CGI fantasy landscapes to this song here:

The fictional band Red Tape Rocket plays an important role in this series and I based their sound on my very favorite irl band, the Moody Blues, so there's a fun fact for you.

Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

Definitely Sydney and Dell. Sydney's a girl who struggles to see herself in a positive light after being told again and again that she's worthless by members of her own family while being quietly brushed aside by the people who are supposed to care. So when she ends up on the Spiral, it's very much a journey of self-discovery and learning to be confident in herself and boy, do I want to give her a hug.

Dell started out as an email attachment that, due to some strange reality-warping shenanigans, gains sentience on Reyna's computer. She's super excited to speak with him and teach him things because her life is sad and she has no friends and he ends up leading her on a quest to the Spiral. I already know he's going to be fun to write because AI/robots always end up my favorites anyway XD

What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

I've always thought this would make a cool Jim Henson movie so probably fans of weird, dark surreal fantasy like Labyrinth or The Dark Crystal would like it.

What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

Probably getting everything to fit together in a way that makes sense but also allowing myself to leave certain elements a mystery. Usually when I plan my magic systems, I like to make hard rules for them but the Spiral is home to an eldritch skeleton thing that literally warps reality so anything can happen.

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Depends what constitutes animals, I guess. I have a lot of strange creatures that inhabit the Spiral but all of them are sentient (yes, even the sandstone), so I guess they'd be more like fantasy races than animals. But they include the Varixxi, moth-like winged humanoids, the Aroon, clay pot tortoise-looking guys, and the Keem-Torali, which look like tentacled Horta that secrete acid and chill in extremely salty water.

How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

Walking mostly or, if they're lucky, my characters may catch a ride on a Colossus, but they're very hard to climb on to and you have to be careful not to get stepped on. Incidentally, there's also the molted exoskeleton of an eldritch abomination that sometimes becomes a portal when someone dies next to it, but that's not very practical.

What part of your wip are you working on rn?

I've actually been taking a little break from this so I can focus on Incantations but I really want to have my draft of book 1 finished by the end of the year.

What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

This is pure, old school portal fantasy escapism. The main characters are all unhappy in their normal lives, wish for something more, and they get it. They're not your traditional heroes, but they get to save the world anyway.

What are your hopes for your wip?

If this story and these characters resonate with at least one person and can help them get through the day, I'll be content.

Records of the Spiral taglist: @awleeofficial , @desastreus

General taglist: @thatrandomlemononyourcounter1, @teacupsandstarlight

Blank questionnaire below the cut:

What was the first part of your wip that you created?

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

What part of your wip are you working on rn?

What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

What are your hopes for your wip?

[gnrbitch]

Does she have alcohol?

warnings: alcoholism? (maybe idk)

mentions: Lenny Kravitz

y/nn: your nickname

based off Slash’s biography

——

1990

Slash had just been flown into New York by Lenny, something about him wanting Slash to be on his record. Slash thought it was cool, the recognization he was getting as a guitarist, not just the guitarist from guns n’ roses. But now he was here, waiting for Lenny to get ready in his apartment that, to Slash, looked like a vintage hippie store had just thrown up.

And sure, Slash had been sober from heroin for a quick minute, but that didn’t stop him from drinking like a madman. So he sat there, suddenly feeling chills, sweat and everything else that comes with being an alcoholic.

“Lenny, man, do you have anything to drink?” “Nah man, I have a joint though” Lenny responded to a suddenly pale Slash sitting on his couch. “Yea that’s cool, but I really need something to drink”

As Lenny went around asking his neighbors if they had some kind of alcohol Slash could drink, he was pacing right behind him “Can’t we just stop by a bar on the way to the studio?” Slash asked looking at Lenny, who had already started walking out of his apartment building. “Sorry dude, bars are closed on Sunday”

That made Slash nervous. Really fucken nervous. What kind of place was this? Closed bars on a Sunday? What the fuck?

The ride to the studio was personally, Slash’s personal hell. As they walked through the parking lot of the studio Slash turned to look at Lenny “Look man I need a fucken drink, I can’t play unless I have something to drink.”

“I get it man, i’ll get you something. Don’t worry.”

Lenny didn’t get it, Slash thought. Sure the dude smokes weed to write music and stuff. But he didn’t need it.

Lenny smiled as he walked into the studio, knowing he had found the solution to Slash’s hell. “Hey! y/nn!” Lenny called to the girl bending down to get her soda from the vending machine.

Y/n turned to look over at the voice, happy to see her dearest friend. Lenny, y/n and her guys met each other when Lenny first moved to Manhattan. All of them being musicians helped them build a bond.

“Hey Lenny, and friend” y/n knew who the friend was, but once you have some drinks with Iggy Pop, who was always spotted in New York considering he lived there, you really can’t be starstruck anymore.

“Y/nn honey, I hate to be a bother” Lenny started, getting cut off by Y/n’s sarcastic ass “do you? really?” Lenny rolled his eyes at the girl, knowing she was right. “Yea yea, do you and the guys have anything to drink?” “Preferably, alcohol?” He gave a side eye to Slash, who was wondering who this y/nn girl is, does she have alcohol, and what was she doing in the studio.

“Yea, the guys have some” Y/n responded, weirded out look on her face as she noticed Lenny’s friend looking quite like shit. “cmon” she said as she started walking towards the room her and the guys were recording in. “is your friend okay?” she said looking at Lenny, and before Lenny had the chance to answer her, Slash spoke. “Slash” was all he said “what?” Y/n said turning her head to him, not quite hearing him. “I’m Slash” he said louder.

“That’s nice, i’m Y/n” Y/n said giving him a soft smile, opening the door to her bands recording room.

“Im back” She started, “Lenny needs some alcohol” she finished, looking over to Sammi, their rhythm guitarist. “Take what you need man” Sammi said, pushing a bottle of tequila towards him.

On one hand, Slash was fucken relieved he finally had something to drink. But in the other, his ego was kinda bruised. What was up with these people? Did they not know who he is?

Caught up in his thoughts, he stared blankly at y/n who, was holding the bottle to him.

“Slash? Hello?” She said looking at him “Shit yea, thanks” he said, hating how shaky his voice sounded. He looked for Lenny, who he found sitting on the couch. “Sit down man, you look rough” a voice said, Slash looked at him. “Sydney don’t be fucked up” Y/n told the unknown guy, now known as Sydney “But yea, you should sit down Slash” She said turning her head back to him.

After drinking the bottle like his life depended on it, Slash finally felt good. Ignoring what everyone else in the room was talking about, his eyes floated to Y/n. He took in her appearance, necklaces that adorned her neck, falling perfectly around her loose V neck dress. He smiled to himself, what a pretty dress.

After looking at her for what felt like forever, soaking in every detail of her, he realized, Y/n is really pretty. Sure she’s hot, but he felt this pretty feeling being in the same room as her. And Slash didn’t know what it was, but he knew he liked Y/n.

Y/n. What a cool name, he thought, Y/n. It sounded nice in his head, but he wondered how it would sound if he said it out loud. “Y/n” He subconsciously said, wanting to slap himself after Y/n turned to him, giving him a little “yes?”

Shit. Now he had to start a conversation. “So, um, you make music?” another shit. he sounded like an idiot. “Yea” Y/n gave him a little laugh “I’m lead vocals” she said, now giving him his full attention. “That’s cool” he gave her a half smile, not knowing what else to say.

“I like your name” he blurted, cursing whatever the fuck had him acting like a school boy with a crush, he was usually much smoother with the ladies. “Thanks, I like yours too, Slash” she said putting an emphasis on his name, and Slash liked it, he liked how his named sounded coming out of Y/n’s mouth.

“Well I hate to cut this conversation short, but me and Slash gotta get working” Lenny said getting up, “Wouldn’t want your lady to wait up for you” He said, oblivious to Slash’s little crush on Y/n.

They said their goodbyes, Slash thanked them for the drink, they all told each other they would hang out again when they all weren’t busy.

When Slash and Lenny left, Y/n felt a bit of disappointment at the fact Slash had a girlfriend. But she couldn’t be surprised, he was Slash for god sakes.

And while Slash and Lenny walked to their recording room, Slash turned to Lenny “I really like your friend” “Y/n?” Lenny asked him, “Yea.”

——

I feel like this is kinda shit, but let me know what you guys think!! pt2?

[itstheheebiejeebies]

Band of Brothers Week: Day 3 ( July 3rd ): Creations based around song lyrics

Song used is The Man Who Lives Forever by Lord Huron

if you have a request or want to be tagged for any of my edits send me an ask. don’t repost, reblogs appreciated. all of my edits can be found here

Taglist: @gottapenny @georgeluzwarmhugs @dontmissshifty @mygoddamnsizzuhs @whovian45810 @nixoninc @msmercury84 @fromcrossroadstoking @inglourious-imagines @easynix @alienoresimagines @sammy-1998 @blenalela @punkgeekcryptid @wexhappyxfew @lovingunderratedcharacters @a-beautiful-struggle-of-life​ @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @vintagelavenderskies @mavysnavy @angels-fall2 @snafus-peckuh @alejodi0nysus @sydney-m @shadowsandmoonlight @mrseasycompany @gutsandgloryhere @ourmiraclealigner @johnny-martin-is-mypeanut @tvserie-s-world @serasvictoria @alyxzanderthebored @sergeant-spoons @labarboteuse @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @i-dont-like-bullies @silverspeirs @satan-incarnate-666 @footprintsinthesxnd

[ariadnew]

CTJL SYDNEY, FINALE: PART 2

At a bar table for three by an extravagantly large window thirty-two floors above Sydney’s Darling Harbour, a pair of figures settle upon the seating, uncork a bottle of champagne, and pour it.

They immediately get to arguing.

The first voice is warm, masculine, as clipped as the greens at Lords in London. Low and slightly husky, it bears barely perceptible notes of mirth, as though the speaker feigns a sang-froid greater than he feels.

The second voice is abrupt, feminine, unyielding as a locked door.  Sharply American— east coast, but suggestions of time spent abroad— something about the timbre suggests, on a good day, it is as capable of sweetness as it is smoke. 

The present tone would suggest today is not one of those days.

The first figure lifts his glass from the table with easy grace and holds it aloft.

‘To you.’ ‘No.’ ‘To your victory.’ ‘Third place isn’t a victory.’ ‘You won your class.’ ‘So did you.’ ‘Top of the leaderboard in a global tour,’ continues the first voice. ‘Top of a leaderboard, not the leaderboard.’ ‘One could rightly celebrate—.’ ‘You placed higher than me.’

For a moment, the first voice is silent. The figure it belongs to remains motionless, long legs tucked beneath his chair, jacket sleeves rolled to the elbows, glass frozen in partial toast. The second is likewise still, but her glass remains on the table. Her posture is tall and proper. Her hands are folded neatly upon her lap. 

Eyes are held. The silence stretches. ‘Alright,’ concedes the first voice.  ‘We won’t toast to your accomplishments.’ A nod. ‘We’ll toast to what a hundred other riders didn’t achieve, which was top of their class and a podium finish overall.’ Unfazed by the humour twinkling in his voice and his eyes, the woman leans forward and picks up her glass. ‘Why don’t you just call it what it is?’ ‘And what is that?’ ‘Us being good, but not good enough.’ ‘Mm.’ The first figure inclines his glass toward his companion’s and says, in the gentle echo of glass meeting glass: ‘How unlike you to be dark.’

They take the first sip in companionable silence, the thin band of orange at the horizon fading faster, faster; early southern starlight beginning to prickle the lush black-blue of night above. *

When Dorothy Lawley arrives at their table, Archibald Rothersay-Vandover— champion show jumper, lifelong idol, object of her involuntary and wicked affections— is telling a story about the first time he came to Australia, and Agatha Foskett— generous employer, sort-of mentor, mistress of nightmares— is smiling. That is, smiling as much as can be considered smiling where Agatha is concerned, which is usually capped at a kink in the corner of her mouth and a certain lustre to her eyes. Archie pulls out her chair and Agatha offers her a glass of champagne, which Dot declines right as Archie picks up the bottle and begins pouring it. 

It sits, bubbling, golden, probably expensive, taunting her as Archie catches her up with his story.

The Mugler syndicate, in their infinite wisdom and eccentricity, had sent him Hong Kong for a competition. This, he reminds them, was before it was fashionable, profitable, and practical for riders based in Europe to compete in Asia. The latter is of particular importance to the story, he points out, though his explanation as to why is derailed after he begins detailing the highs and lows of modern Cantonese political history, and Agatha cuts him off partway through to tell him– bluntly– to get back to the point. As Dot listens, she finds herself becoming enthralled by a world vastly different to those she has previously seen and conjured. She imagines the heritage property he describes, three hours from Sydney. The old homestead, the stockyards, the corrugated iron sheds. Cattle drinking from old bathtubs; the steel groan of a weathered windmill; a stock saddle with a string girth thrown over a worn wooden fence. It smells of dry and horses and sweat; feels like dust and scorching December sun. Archie continues, and Dot’s mind follows, walking to a clearing on a mountain ridge. One of the farmhands— clad in paddock boots, bootcut jeans and an Akubra— turns chops and steaks on a rusted plough disc set over a campfire, a beer in his free hand. Another brushes ash and embers from the lid of a cast iron camp oven and peers within before replacing it and nodding, satisfied. The evening air is fresh and clear, scored with the smells of sizzling meat and baking damper, smoking wood and iron, and the dry, grey-green scent of gum trees enduring the summer heat. Can she see, there, the wraithy-white branches of the ghost gums? Yes, there, those ones, hauntingly beautiful with their thin limbs and smooth pallor. She listens to the relaxed, twanging chatter about her; the snap of the fire; the song of insects; the sudden and frantic screeching of unknown birds in the hot, still, otherwise peaceful dusk. A horse stamps its foot. A fly whizzes past her ear. The valley unfolds before her: sunburned grassland and bush-covered cliffs, vast unlike vast ever was before it; the sky burning lurid orange and apocalyptic red as the sun lowers itself to the horizon and beyond.

At a bar table for three in an air-conditioned lounge overlooking Sydney’s Darling Harbour, Archie Vandover continues telling a story. Dorothy Lawley hears him distantly, in his BBC radio voice, mentioning a string of things that don’t make sense. Polocrosse. The distance to Zurich. Something about wine; someone named Peter. He’s left the unfathomable beauty of the bush behind. But Dot hasn’t. She remains by the fire, staring at the view.

The dizzying, terrifying, entirely bewitching view. *

The darker the night grows, the more the harbour glitters. 

The lounge has somehow managed to ever increase in the number of people present, and, courtesy of the efforts of the person in charge of music, a high-spirited and convivial mood grips the room. Madonna pumps through the sound system at present: Beautiful Stranger. Dot quietly bobs her head side to side with the beat. She’s barely touched the champagne, but she has touched it. Timid sips, here and there, taken with all the poise of someone who has clearly never had a champagne flute in their hand before— it’s a wonder it hasn’t yet trembled all the way out of her hand and ended in a flood on their table. She seems brighter than usual— more confident than usual, more forthcoming with questions and wordier in her responses. Whether it is due to the victory, the vibe or the alcohol, Agatha cannot say, but she can’t imagine Dot has had much practise holding her liquor.  Archie is livelier than usual, too, indulging Dot’s questions and sharing stories of his own accord. It was always difficult to explain his particular balance of introversion and extroversion to people who did not know him. He is sociable, but he has his limits; reserved, but by no means dispassionate or uncommunicative; honest, but not necessarily open. His genuine interest in people coupled with a quick wit and miscellany of interests tended to make him a capable and popular conversationalist; what it did not make him was forthcoming with his own experiences. On the contrary, he seemed perfectly content to listen, ask questions, and otherwise take the conversational backseat unless invited (at times, coaxed) to do otherwise, often to the effect that new acquaintances walked away from conversation charmed by a man they had learned next to nothing about.

Him openly sitting at the table offering pieces of his life for their pleasure, therefore, is a rare– and honestly, rather interesting— occurrence.

He’s in midst of telling Dot another story about his time riding for the Mugler syndicate (a story Agatha has already heard) when they are approached by a smattering of excited young people. Their presence evokes visible surprise in all three of them, but only Dot bears traces of recognition.  They’re a collection of predominantly grooms, apparently, whom Dot has managed to charm sufficiently enough over the course of the year to earn herself an invitation to join them on the dance floor. Her face is, at separate points and sometimes simultaneously, a picture of surprise, confusion, doubt, elation and hesitation, but she ultimately allows herself to be spirited away.

Archie, very deliberately, turns to Agatha. 

‘Will you dance with me?’ ‘No.’ ‘Not even in celebration?’ ‘We’re celebrating right now.’ She lifts her near-empty glass. ‘The end of the season.’ ‘Special occasions call for special celebrations.’ ‘This is a special celebration.’ ‘Champagne? Hardly. You can drink it any time.’ ‘What, you classify dancing as “special celebration”?’ ‘With my team mate and third-place getter, yes. Quite. There’s something rather poetic about second and third place dancing together, don’t you think?’ A beat passes while Agatha appears to consider this, holding his eye all the while. Eventually, she leans closer. It is a calculated movement. Slow, serious. Decisive. To any observer it might seem she is about to reveal a thought of pivotal importance. This includes Archie, who, apparently surprised, leans slightly forward in anticipation. 

Her voice, when she speaks, is low and rich and velvet.

‘Third place doesn’t want to dance with you,’ she says. ‘I think you’re being a bit of a sore loser.’ ‘And I think you’re dangerously close to being an asshole winner.’ His mouth curls into a hearty smile, his eyes crinkling to match. Agatha leans back. Archie does the same. ‘We’ll bet on it next year,’ he says. ‘I’ll beat you next year.’ ‘Then you’ll have nothing to worry about, will you?’ He rests an arm down the back of his chair. ‘What do you intend to wager?’ ‘Your employment status.’ ‘If you want me to sign on another few years, Agatha, you need only ask.’ Her response is the unimpressed arch of a brow. ‘Was that not what you had in mind?’ 

Ignoring his feigned innocence, Agatha takes her glass in hand and turns to face the view. The waters of Darling Harbour shimmer in the midst of the dark: silvers, blues, greens, golds; rippled and restless in the wake of evening ferries and returning yachts.  They had not discussed what would happen when Archie’s contract ran out. Joked and jokingly made threats, respectively, but never spoke about it seriously. Hadn’t so much as indicated it existed. Not a word, not a breath. Was it even real, that contract? The day Archie had all but sank to his knees asking her to let him keep his job, if not on his merits, then for the sake of his little girl? It’s not just me, Agatha. I have a daughter to think about. She can still hear the words in his voice. She remembers almost everything about that day when she looks for it. Her shock; his manners; Eva’s awkward backtracking. Speaking in private. Not being able to look him in the eye. Listening to him petition her, earnest and unashamed; Eva waiting in the courtyard, watching surreptitiously through the window. Not wanting to cave in; the self-loathing when she did. His vow that she wouldn’t be disappointed. Her retort that it was too late for that.

It was strange to think of it, now. Hard to fathom.

‘I’ll find you someone to dance with.’ ‘Hmm?’ ‘She looks like she’d be up for it.’ She nods at a lithe-looking woman by the bar in turquoise gossamer skirts. Taller than average and Bondi blonde, her legs are tanned two shades beyond plausibly natural, but the athleticism they speak of is authentic. The fact she’s wedged between three men in their thirties and apparently lapping it up suggests she might be the kind of person who’d relish being the centre of attention, which equates to further points in her favour. Clearing the floor of a large party to dance with a six-thousand foot tall man who knew how to move around a dance floor was probably right up her street. ‘It’ll be better than dancing with me. You won’t have someone periodically crushing your toes and clawing your coat around.’ He rests his chin in his palm, a smile playing at his lips. ‘Crushed toes are a key part of the experience. If my dance partner isn’t going to crush my toes, what’s the point of it at all?’ She lifts a stilettoed foot. ‘Is a trip to the ER also part of the experience?’ ‘Not as a rule, but it does happen.’ He reaches again for his drink, peering a moment into the glass as if there is something foreign floating in it. Agatha resumes her survey of the room, thoughtful. ‘What about first place?’ She turns in place, scanning the room over her shoulder. ‘Little Elizabeth Howell. She’d dance with you.’ ‘You think so, do you?’ His tone is indulgent rather than interested. ‘Sure. You could put her on your toes and waltz around the room.’ ‘Mm.’ ‘You’d still have a solid foot clear to see where you were going, too.’ ‘Hotly desired in a dancing partner.’ She picks up her glass. ‘Didn’t you promise her a drink?’ ‘I did, yes, but I expect every man and his dog will have made a similar offer.’ ‘You think she fobbed you off?’ ‘I think she’s a lively young person who’d rather be celebrating with other lively young people, not the old fellow who’ll stop after drink number two so he can put himself to bed by eight.’ She smiles. ‘It’s after nine.’ ‘Then we’re alarmingly behind schedule.’ He tips back the last mouthful of his champagne, sets down the glass, and picks up the bottle. He does not need voice the question aloud: Agatha holds out her glass, and Archie begins filling it. ‘The deal was a drink,’ he continues as he pours. ‘She has to work harder for a dance.’ He lifts his gaze, his eyes bright with humour. ‘Aim for the illustrious third place next time.’ ‘A downgrade.’ ‘Not at all,’ he says, leaning back and filling his own glass. ‘Think about the effort it would take to consciously achieve a specific place in the middle. One knows what must be done to finish at the top or the bottom, but how can you account for the movements in the middle? The real talent, when you think about it, is intentionally achieving a specific place in the middle.’ ‘There was no talent involved in my third place, if that’s what you’re working toward.’ He sets the bottle down, smiling. 

‘We'll argue that point in a minute,’ he says. * The first thing Archie notices when their table re-enters his view is that Dot has returned from her adventures with the other grooms. It seems premature. He hopes they haven’t done her dirty.

As he makes his way back to the table, he gradually discerns that Dot is wearing a different dress. Not only that, but a different hair-do. And, it seems, a different face. In the simultaneous process of drawing closer and realisation, Agatha turns her face in his direction. She, at least, is the same as when he left her, albeit wearing a suspiciously amused expression. Aware that he is now too much in view to raise his brows in question, he smiles, takes his seat, and begins telling Elizabeth Howell, who is newly seated at their table, how delighted he is that she has managed to join them after all. * When the final glass is finished, the three of them stand. Presumably, Liz will head off to the next party; Archie will head to bed; Agatha's activities are anyone’s guess. He and Elizabeth exchange cheek kisses, an endeavour which requires stooping on his part and tiptoes on hers. Agatha offers a handshake which, judging by her expression, she has found fantastically uncomfortable. He tries his best not smile, but his best is not enough, and he has to look over his shoulder and compose himself. 

Goodbyes said and done, the celebrated Miss Howell slips off into the crowd. Agatha and Archie stand in front of the window together, observing the view in silence.

After a beat, he says:

‘She did not mention dancing.’ The ensuing pause is brief. ‘No.’ ‘Did you mention dancing?’ ‘No.’ She turns to look at him in profile. ‘She didn’t earn it.’ ‘Mm.’ He holds in a smile. ‘So how, exactly, did you lure her into joining us at the ‘not-good-enough’ table?’ Agatha turns back to the window as he turns to face her. There’s a dark sort of mischief in her eyes.

Concerning. ‘Agatha?’ Darker, deeper. Delighted. Archie opens his mouth, but there are no words at the ready. ‘You didn’t threaten her, did you?’ ‘Don’t be stupid.’ ‘Then why are you standing there looking like the cat who ate the cream?’ ‘Because I told her there was a tired old man who’d go to bed heartbroken if he didn’t get to have a drink with the exciting young talent of the tour.’ She turns. ‘And that you’d love an autograph. She signed a napkin for you. I think she may have drawn a heart on it, too.’ It is Archie's turn to pause. He holds his hands behind his back and watches the lights of a helicopter blink across the sky. ‘What a flattering portrait you painted.’ She lifts a shoulder in a languid shrug– and the corner of her mouth, in a languid smile. ‘She must have thought so.’

A young woman swishes by and clears their table. Agatha turns again, this time to face the exit. She seems about to leave when a sudden wash of hesitation fills her air. 

‘I didn’t actually congratulate you,’ she says. 'Oh— Well. Thank you. No need, really. But thank you.' 'You're shocked.' ‘No.' 'You are.' 'I suppose I wasn't expecting it.' 'Were you expecting me to be a bad sport about it?' 'No— No. Not at all.'

The moment feels like the first steps on untested ice: tentative, quiet; unnerving, ready to crack. Agatha's gaze is unhurried, dark and direct; her scrutiny obvious, her conclusions unreadable. Archie presses his palms together. Looks at the floor; bites his lip; looks at her again. Smiles, gentle.

'Goodnight,' he says.

She lingers a moment longer. Finally, Agatha nods, turns, and follows Elizabeth's lead, vanishing into the crowd. *

(Hastily writing the last few sentences at one AM; no way I'm going to regret this later!!!)

I did say of my CTJL Sydney collaboration with @calveroterranorasj that it was part one. You've probably forgotten about that post. If that's the case, (1) no judgement, and (2) lucky you! I almost never get to forget anything, and as such unfinished projects hang like swords over my head while I battle with the axis powers of an easily distracted nature, crippling perfectionism, and an ungodly amount of artistic self-loathing. Some applaud this as dedication or tenacity, but I don't think this is necessarily a good thing, because some things in life are better forgotten or abandoned. Otherwise you just keep them around like relics and end up sort of tethered to the past, and that's decidedly not a good thing. But that's enough late night philosophy; there's already too much nonsense on this blog.

[beardedmrbean]

There's an old joke that Australians are so laid back they're in constant danger of falling over. Known for its sun, surf and occasionally shark attacks, Australia has gone from being the easy-going land Down Under to experiencing a surge of antisemitism that most Jews thought was relegated to the dark annals of Jewish history.

In the line of fire are Australian-Jewish actors, musicians, writers, and others in the traditionally left-wing arts community. They are being pushed by fellow artists to denounce Israel as a modern-day Satan or be banished from the local arts scene.

The attacks and vitriol have shades of Mao's Cultural Revolution where people were publicly humiliated as subversives before being banished to work camps. In this modern-day Australian twist, Jews are simply fired or excommunicated from their artistic communities.

Under attack, these Jewish creatives formed a Whatsapp group where they shared their feelings of alienation with fellow Jewish artists. The group was breached, and chats were stolen and circulated online. Now pro-Hamas keyboard warriors are doxxing and threatening the creatives who used the chat to share their despair as work dried up and friends and colleagues abandoned them.

Saxophonist Joshua Moshe was doxxed and threatened by pro-Hamas supporters simply for being a member of the chat group. The harassment got so bad that his band mates fired him from their neo-soul jazz band via Instagram.

"We explicitly condemn any forms of Zionism, racism, bullying, and antisemitism," his bandmates said, without any irony, as they expelled their only Jewish member. Moshe's wife's gift shop has been boycotted and vandalized.

Actress Sarah-Jane Feiglin is not surprised that Moshe's bandmates turned on him. She's been taunted by actors expressing support of Hamas's Oct. 7 atrocities against Israelis during acting workshops. She's no longer in touch with many of her old friends from film school as well as other actor friends.

"People are being bullied into silence. They are afraid of being cancelled and losing work, so they are shunning their Jewish friends publicly and privately," Feiglin said.

Feiglin was removed from a prestigious clowning masterclass of the sort made famous by Sasha Baron-Cohen. She'd spent months preparing for the class with pre-workshop improv courses. Before the masterclass began, her instructor emailed her to say that she couldn't do the class. He said that she was too emotional because she'd been dismayed during a previous workshop by an actor telling Hitler jokes as well as mocking comments by other actors that alluded to the 230 Israelis taken hostage by Hamas on Oct. 7, including children and young women who released hostages say are being raped by their Hamas captors.

"All of my creative platforms and work opportunities have been taken away from me because I will not be ashamed or apologetic about being Jewish," she said.

Members of the Jewish creatives chat group were largely left-wing artists who disagreed with many policies of the Netanyahu government and were devastated by the loss of life among Palestinians from the Israeli military onslaught on Hamas in Gaza. They are also deeply wounded by the minimization, justification, and denial by fellow artists of the Oct. 7 murders and rapes by Hamas.

One of the turning points for many Jewish artists was a pro-Palestinian protest by several actors, including the son of Hugo Weaving, at the Sydney Theatre Company, in which they donned keffiyehs and made a pro-Palestine speech at the end of a production. Jews were offended not because the actors decried the deaths of Palestinian children but rather because the actors said not a word about the Israeli hostages, including a baby, held by Hamas as well as Hamas's mass murder of 1,200 Israelis on Oct. 7.

Based largely on an influx of Holocaust survivors after World War Two, there are just 100,000 Jews in Australia, or 0.4 percent of the population. The community is so small that 'Jewish' isn't listed as a religion on the national census. Jews have to write their religion next to the word "Other." Some leave it blank, remembering how such information was used by the Nazis for deportation lists to concentration camps.

Now there are new lists; lists of names stolen from Jewish chat groups circulating among pro-Hamas activists. They have become hit lists of Jews for doxxing, boycotts, and death threats. Meanwhile, police have done little to stem the hate, arson, vandalism and calls for violence paraded on Australian streets,

When screenshots of a Whatsapp group of Jewish lawyers were leaked to Australia's The Sydney Morning Herald and The Age, the newspapers ran articles filled with antisemitic tropes that could have been pulled from the pages of the Nazi newspaper Der Sturmer during Hitler's rise to power in the 1930s. The articles claimed a "secret chat group" of Jewish lawyers had carried out a "coordinated back-channel campaign" to fire a social media personality and pro-Palestine activist hired as a radio presenter by the ABC public broadcaster, which has a statutory duty requiring impartiality. Chat group members received death threats after the articles were released.

The newspapers put a conspiratorial spin on what was in essence a few people on a Whatsapp group spontaneously deciding to write letters of complaint over an eyebrow-raising appointment of an activist at a taxpayer-funded public broadcaster. The activist, Antoinette Lattouf, had put up social media posts perceived as justifying the Oct. 7 massacre.

"Apparently everyone else can lobby on their own behalf except Jews," posted a Jewish former politician, Philip Dalidakis, on X when the articles came out.

Lattouf was subsequently stood down by the ABC for breaching its social media code. She claimed that she was fired over a Human Rights Watch post, and has sued for unfair dismissal. The matter is still pending. Lattouf's activism and pro-Palestine social media commentary raise important questions about why she was hired at all given the ABC's strict impartiality requirement. Her social media posts have included an Instagram comment hailing as "super important" a call for a "healthy cynicism" of witness testimony of the rape of Israeli women on Oct. 7.

Lattouf was also a signatory on a controversial journalists' letter—signed also by staff at the ABC and the newspapers that ran the Jewish chat group story—that demanded journalists be allowed to "apply as much professional skepticism when prioritizing or relying on uncorroborated Israeli government and military sources to shape coverage as applied to Hamas."

The demand goes against journalistic best practice as it requires reporters give the same credence to the information provided by a democracy with courts, oversight, a free press, and other checks and balances as to a terrorist group whose spokesmen hide in the tunnels of Gaza. A case in point being Hamas's now disproven claims that Israel bombed Gaza's al-Ahli Hospital on Oct. 17 when it was a misfired Islamic Jihad rocket that hit the hospital parking lot. There's no record of any media organization confronting Hamas about its falsehood, which sparked violent protests across the Middle East. Perhaps that's because the Hamas spokesman is incommunicado in a tunnel deep underground somewhere in the Gaza Strip.

The Age has provided little coverage of the rise in antisemitism in Melbourne. Instead, it's issued a series of articles positing whether Israel should exist or become a binational state as was Lebanon before the civil war ended that experiment for good, resulting in the exile of the bulk of the Maronite Christian community and Lebanon's takeover by the Iranian-proxy Hezbollah.

Home to the survivors whose stories featured in The Tattooist of Auschwitz and Schindler's List, the Australian city of Melbourne has the largest community of Holocaust survivors and their descendants in the world outside of Israel. The community thrived until Oct. 7. Since then, Melbourne's Jews, like the rest of Australia's Jewish community, have been hounded by calls to boycott Jewish businesses, vilification of Jewish philanthropists who donated wings to hospitals and collections to art galleries, as well as daily acts of vandalism and threats and occasional violence.

For many Australian Jews, post Oct. 7 Australia has shades of 1930s Germany in which Jewish artists and academics were shunned by their peers, newspapers treated Jews as "Other," and Jewish businesses were boycotted and attacked in what turned out to be a prelude to the Holocaust. While few think it will ever get that bad, Jews have never felt so unsafe and unwelcome in the land Down Under.

[currymanganese]

My take on what I've seen a lot of people commenting on whether or not Claire returns in S3 is that Claire Bear doesn't return in S3. For the simple reason that the character was not even developed, and she left the same way she appeared, abruptly and in a way that no one will miss her. I do think she will be mentioned if she appears it will be at most a farewell scene with carmy, but if not that she will never come back. She fulfilled her purpose. 🥸

Based take anon, I hope to God that you're right. I'll breathe such a sigh of relief if you are. If they bring Claire back to flesh out her character and her relationship with Carmy more, it'll feel like they'll be cutting into time that could be better used to explore characters and dynamics that we were already interested in since season 1 yet again.

For example, what's Ebra's last name? Has Ebra immigrated to the US alone, or has his family joined him? If he lives in the US alone, is his family in Somalia still alive, is he close to them? Do they depend on him for remittances? Did they die in war or civil unrest or some other tragedy? Does Manny have kids and a last name of his own? Is Angel in college part time (like I headcanon him to be) and does he see dish washing as just a temporary thing until he breaks into the career he actually wants?

Will Tina find out that Syd's mom is dead? Will that affect the way she interacts with Sydney? Will she develop a maternal bond with Syd? Are any of the restaurant's staff undocumented immigrants? Will they have to help each other secure documentation? How will Marcus's mom's death affect him? Will the restaurant's staff band together to support him emotionally? Will Carmy step up and become a true friend/ older brother figure to him? Will Syd, Marcus and possibly Carmy grow closer together over commiserating over each of them coping with the death of one parent (if Carmy's father is in fact dead)?

What was Syd and Carmy's childhood like? Does Syd still have friends from the CIA? What is Syd's extended family life like? If her Dad is second generation Nigerian American, has Syd ever visited her family in Nigeria? Is she close with her mother's family? Is Syd her grandparents' oldest granddaughter? Has she ever gotten a taste of the oldest daughter experience, despite being an only child, because of having to mind younger cousins at family get togethers?

What was her love life and business like? Does Syd do her own hair to save money? Will she start wearing her hair in different styles more regularly when she is more financially secure? Will Syd get a share of equity in the restaurant when the business becomes profitable? When will Mr. Adamu meet Carmy and what will he make of Syd and Carmy's relationship? Where does Mr. Adamu work? How does that impact on how much quality time he got to spend with Syd as she grew up, if he's still in the same field that he was in when Syd was a child? Did Syd have any behavioural struggles that she dealt with as a young child before she was old enough to understand her mother's death? Did Mr. Adamu ever have her referred to a clinical child psychologist when she was a little girl? Does Syd go to therapy, or does she want to herself? Is Syd depressed?

Has Carmy ever struggled with suicidal ideation before? Has he ever made an unsuccessful attempt on his own life before, perhaps as a child or an adolescent? In his dream in episode 1, why did Carmy tell the bear on the State Street Bridge where his brother killed himself, "I know, I know...." What secret pain does Carmy know about that even we, the audience, are not privy to? Why was cousin Michelle so worried about the impact of Donna's behaviour on Carmy's mental health in particular? Why did the older relative/ acquaintance at Cicero's kid's party so freely assume that Carmy was the one that killed himself and not Mikey? If Carmy has been suicidal himself before, in addition to his survivor's guilt and avoidance of Donna, was this another reason he could not bear to attend Mikey's funeral, if he had to attend and face his own mortality and the fact that his brother's body in the coffin, or ashes in the urn could have easily been him?

Was Carmy ever institutionalized before? If so, does it explain his apparent severe internalized stigma against mental illness ("I'm a fucking psycho!") and him seemingly having an aversion to seek out any mental health care beyond attending the Al-anon meetings? Will Carmy ever go to therapy? Will he ever learn to love himself? Will Syd and Carmy ever realize they have deeper feelings for one another? Will Carmy allow himself to accept Syd's feelings for him if she reciprocates his?

Will any of The Bear's new staff get deeper characterizations of their own? Will Tina's son, Louis, begin working at the restaurant after all in the future, perhaps as front of house staff, or maybe as a dish washer if Angel leaves for better things? Will Gary ever return to a sports related career, perhaps by getting certification to become a coach? What will Fak's job duties be going forward, besides being a general repair man?

Was the restaurant's storefront getting shot out in Season 1 a one-off incident, or was it a warning of things to come because of the Berzatto family's ties to Cicero? Will any of Richie and Mikey's old drug clients come by to raise hell at the restaurant because they can't get their fix anymore? Will they pay back Cicero in time? Will they win their Michelin star? Will the business go under?

Will Nat enjoy motherhood? Will it bring her closer to Donna, if Donna sobers up and joins a rehabilitation program, or will it be the final nail in the coffin for their relationship if loving her own child will allow Nat to fully understand the depths of Donna's cruelty towards her and just how much she was failed as a child? How will Pete navigate fatherhood? Will Carmy grow closer to him as he sees and admires the way that Pete cares for his niece or nephew, and his sister? Will Carmy ever have a desire for a family of his own?

Will Carmy repair his relationship with Syd and with Richie? Will Richie win over the respect of his ex-wife and daughter? Will Richie learn to mind proper boundaries between himself and the Berzattos? Will they kill Donna off in Season 3? Start the season off with a funeral that crushes Marcus (his mom's), but ultimately cements his found family's support for him and for each other, and end the season with a funeral (Donna's) that Carmy, Nat and Richie heartbreakingly find freeing?

There is so much rich material that has yet to be explored with this show and these characters and their interpersonal dynamics. However, if the showrunners wanted Claire to remain as a part of this tapestry in the long run, then imo they should have written her to be as compelling as possible from her introduction in order to match the rest of the show's energy, instead they wrote her like the odd one out.

[in-death-we-fall]

Six Feet Down Under

Metal Hammer 112, April 2003

Touring and whoring on the other side of the world, Hammer kept a diary of death with the Murderdolls through their residency at Australia’s Big Day Out festival. Shock horror: Mark Hughes. B-movie hero: Tony Mott.

(drive link)

The Big Day Out. The Australian travelling musical circus that steamrolls its way around Australia and New Zealand every winter with the hottest bands on the planet flying from all over the globe to join down under’s best bands in a mayhem filled fortnight. This year’s line-up, features among others, The Foo Fighters, Queens of the Stone Age, Jane’s Addiction, Jimmy Eat World, The Hard Ons and deathglam monstrosities, the Murderdolls. So far, the Mid West (sic) based five-piece outfit have been the cream of the festival, appropriately headlining the ‘Essentials’ stage. This is the band’s first time in the Antipodes and quizzical music fans have crowded to see the much-talked about live set. With Sydney copping the biggest crowds of all the legs on the tour, the band are preparing something special. But at 3pm in the afternoon you wouldn’t know it. Most of the band are still in bed from the night before, well, actually… the week before.

The ‘Dolls have been in Sydney for five days before their Big Day Out show and not finding much to do early on in the week they’ve just been getting down to the (sic) rock’n’roll’s most popular pastime: hard drinking. Drummer ‘Big’ Ben ‘The Ghoul’ Graves and bass player Eric Griffin are recovering from last night’s binge. While singer Wednesday and guitarist Joey Jordison are recovering from the night before the night before. Acey Slade, who maintains his sobriety, but still stays out ‘til dawn, has been up since !!am and is the only one ready for the show. With the band on stage at 7:15pm, things need doing. Staggering through their beer can and ‘paraphernalia’-strewn rooms to the showers, they’re down in their van and on the way out to the Big Day Out site just after 4pm.

Situated at the same place that hosted the Sydney 2000 olympics, the festival facilities are first rate and the sell-out crowd of 52,000 festival-goers are making the most of it. The temperature’s pushing a blistering 35°C and being the middle of a drought-ridden summer in Australia, everything’s dry, dusty and cracked. It’s a good 40-minute drive from the city to the festival and the sun’s stinging in through the van windows. Not big fans of the sunlight, the Murderdolls have got their leather jackets up over their heads to avoid even the slightest hint of a tan.

In the cool, air-conditioned shade of backstage I get to sit down with Joey Jordison and singer Wednesday 13 to gind out how the band are doing after their meteoric rise over the past eight months. Joey is straight down the line, measured and professional. “This si the first Big Day Out for all of us. Slipknot have only been down here once but not that (sic) this festival. This is something I’ve really wanted to play – something I’ve wanted to do for a really long time.”

For Wednesday, this is another notch on his rise as an international rock’n’roller. “It’s awesome,” he says. “I’ve always wanted to be out on the front of a rock’n’roll band at a festival like this. After struggling doing my own band for six years I actually quit my job back in April and I’ve been touring every since. I’ve done all the things I ever dreamed about. I’ve been to Europe three times, Japan twice and here we are now in Australia and that has all been pretty much in the last six months! Holy shit we’re doing some things that some bands have never done!”

“We just checked out the videotape from the Auckland show the other day and fuck man, it was awesome!” enthuses Joey. “People are saying we are pulling the most people to that stage out of everyone. Our band has been doing really well especially since we’ve only been going for a short time. We hope that after the BDO we’ll be able to come back and do some real headlining shows down here. We are having fun though, thinking about it, we’ve never had so many days off between shows before, it’s more like the Big Day Off!”

The band wasn’t supposed to be so idle. Most overseas bands on the BDO bill play a bunch of satellite shows in various cities around the country and for a month prior, the Murderdolls had been slated to perform a Sydney show with fellow US rockers The Deftones. But with very little warning, the Murderdolls were dumped from the bill just before the show. What really pissed off Joey and the lads was a lot of the Murderdolls fans had bought tickets on the basis that the band would be playing but in the end had to watch the Deftones supported by ex-At The Drive-In chancers, Sparta.

Without much choice in the matter the Murderdolls issued a statement on their website apologising to their fans and kept trying to fly their flag with some instore appearances at local record stores. One in particular at Utopia Records, was insane. There was such a roar when the band turned up, they looked truly surprised at the number of kids who had showed up, most dressed in black and red outfits.

“Someone told us there was only going to be about 150 kids, which was supposed to be a good turn-out for Utopia records for a new band,” retells Joey. “But when we turned up there (sic) almost 500! We talked to fans and signed everything that they had. We were there for a good three and a half hours. And at the Channel V interview it was pretty much the same story. Hordes of kids that wouldn’t let us get away.”

“That’s the cool thing with our fans,” explains Wednesday. “We’re not a radio band or an MTV band with this created army of little kids which I think is more pure than being the Number One radio band or liking it because someone tells you to like it. I know that our fans are real. It is really cool to see these hordes of kids show up, they are dressed like us, they know everything about us, it is just awesome.”

Thinking further ahead fans will be please to know the band are not going to let up on the groundswell already created by the Murderdolls. “I have to go back and finish recording some Slipknot stuff,” reveals Joey. “Then we (the Murderdolls) are going to do some more touring. There’s usually a three to four month sort of break between recording and when an album comes out so we are going to tour pretty much all the way from the end of May all the way to maybe the beginning of October. Which will be good because there’ll be less sunlight at that time of year,” jokes Wednesday raising his non-existent eyebrows and throwing his arms, heavily tattooed with b-grade horror heroes, into the air.

As the hot afternoon drifts into an only slightly less simmering evening, there’s a small problem with guitarist Acey. He’s got indigestion. This amounts to a small crisis because first aid officials must follow procedure and administer the medicine. This takes two St. John’s Ambulance men on pushbikes in a five minute ride from their base at the side of the main stadium. Very un-rock’n’roll indeed.

With the gig just 45 minutes away, the boys are pacing around their trailer, having their pics taken for Hammer. Acey inside in front of the mirror still applying the last of his make-up, Ghoul is getting powdered up, Wednesday’s still with the photographer, while Joey’s nervously pacing around, in the trailer, out the trailer, back in… Eric meanwhile is ready for the stage and cracks open the obligatory bottle of Jack Daniel’s. As a Murderdolls ritual, they’re applying the slap, the band have to listen to Kiss. “Must. Have. Kiss.” stipulates Joey. “‘All American Man’! We sometimes change that to ‘All American Ghoul’,” chimes in the Ghoul.

Just 10 minutes before showtime and the long lanky frame of Ben Graves is stretched spider-like up against the dressing room wall. “I’ll be in pain afterwards,” he explains. Wednesday has by now finished his solo shots with Hamer’s photographer. The day is hot enough anyway, and under the photographers lights the heat is even more stifling. ‘Jesus, it’s fucking hot!” exclaims the frontman. “But I don’t mind… I’m a naturally dead person in front of a camera” he laughs.

More Kiss blares out from the dressing room, this time ‘Dr Love’! Then the moment comes: ground fucking zero at the Big Day Out! The band clamber into the van and head around the back way to the Essentials stage. The bottle of Jack’s being passed around as they approach the stage the band take a quick peak (sic) to see how the crow’s building up. It’s the biggest yet, taking up most of the grassy area out the back of the main stadium. Joey – who regularly suffers from pre-gig nerves as his pre-stage vomiting on Slipknot’s ‘Disasterpiece (sic)’ DVD proves in all its technicolour glory – is bricking it.

Five minutes before the band are due to hit the powerchords and the guys are milling around in the wings. Ghoul is banging on some warm-up pads and everyone is getting psyched. They’ve left the Kiss CD backstage so they have to hum ‘All American Man’ together. Then they make their way to the stage.

A couple of huge Murderdolls logos adorn the stage and in an eruption of noise and energy, the Dolls take the stage and instantly kick off with ‘Dawn of The Dead’. Jordison in black leather Gestapo hat is jumping around stage left, Acey is wailing away stage right while Eric bangs away on the bass doing his best Nikki Sixx impression, while the Ghoul wrecks the trap kit. Wednesday is the last to take the stage and screaming, “We are the dead, coming for you!” And the crowd goes fucking wild.

The kids down the front, dressed up in full glam-goth regalia, know every word and sing along fervently with the band while among the throng watching from the side of stage are some of the biggest names in the Australian music industry. Members of bands like 28 days, Machine Gun Fellatio, Cog, Jimmy Eat World, Pre-Shrunk, and Sparta all stand wide eyed and mouths agape at the outrageous rock revisionism being unleashed onstage.

By the time the band have launched into ‘I (sic) Was a Teenage Zombie’, ‘Let’s Go To War’ and ‘Slit My Wrists (sic)’, the crows know what they’re in for. Most who have showed up for curiosity (sic) sake are still hanging around, but if anything the crowd is building and everyone looks like they are right into it having fun. The intro to ‘Twist My Sister’ is a kid’s nursery rhyme ‘Old McDonald’ which gets the whole crowd singing along.

Unbelievably, some lunatic in the crowd starts throwing bangers at the stage, but the fireworks only make it as far as the front row of fans before blowing up in their faces. Wednesday tries to get the guy to quit while geeing up the rest of the crowd. “All the people down the front tell the people at the back to ‘Die Die Die… my bride!’ he yells as the band grind into the song…

Today’s set includes two new songs, and we can report that both are killer kitsch rock rippers. The first, set for legendary status is called ‘The Devil Made Me Do It… And I’ll Do It Again’ while the second is the set closer, a crowd sing along gem ‘I Love to Say Fuck’. Wednesday grabs his big black umbrella, emblazoned with the word FUCK, Eric, Acey, and Joey are going crazy, jumping up and down in unison, Ghoul is all arms and legs behind the kit while Wednesday is right down in the crowd’s face urging them to stick their fingers in the air and yell ‘Fuck!’. It looks great to watch. “It isn’t choreographed,” says Wednesday later. “Everything’s pretty much spontaneous. There are some things like we all jump on an ascent in the music or whatever but everything else is stuff that just happens on stage.”

They (sic) crowd are almost passing out from the combination of frenzied activity and the extreme heat, but still manage to scream out for more as the band leave the stage. “A lot of people don’t know that’s what drives a show,” explains Wednesday about his relationship with the audience. “You have to make fans feel part of the event and I think we do it better than anyone else.”

The band then jump back into the van for the two minute trip back to their dressing room behind the main stage. When they get back there the guys are all super hyped up. Excitedly buzzing around their dressing room, drinking beers, telling jokes. Joey is busy analysing the gig, and the BDO circus in general. He and Wednesday have got an interview to do with Australian TV scheduled for 8:45pm. It’s almost 9pm and Joey has another issue: “I want to eat! I must eat before I talk!” he exclaims. The interview is postponed for 20 minutes.

Bass player Eric is hanging around, so I grab him for a quick chat. Of all the Murderdolls, Eric seems the shyest but is probably the one most up for anything, especially if it is party related. He may only be small, (even in his Ace Frehley six-inch platforms he’s still barely average height!) but he’s a true rock’n’roller with a party attitude to match. “‘Machine Gun Fellatio’ that’s a cool fuckin’ name,” he squeaks discussing some of the other bands on the BDO bill. And he does squeak, kinda, like annoying Brit ‘comedian’ Joe Pasquale.

I bring up the fact that esteemed record producer, Nick Launey (Silverchair, INXS) was side of stage watching the show and had an interesting story to tell me about Eric. “I think I know where this is going,” smiles Eric slyly. “I met him about two years ago in LA at a party and we were all fucked up. I got dragged down three flights of stairs by my hair and he reckoned it was the biggest rock’n’roll moment of ‘00 for him. First impressions count, man.”

“It was so rock’n’roll!” Launey informs me later. “It was the launch of Orgy’s album and they had these models dressed as prostitutes lying on a bed and Eric jumps up on the bed with them, which of course you weren’t allowed to do. So the bouncers are dragging him out by his hair, kicking and screaming, down the stairs. His head was literally bouncing down each stair like a cartoon character and all the while he’s just got his middle fingers up on each hand and is yelling out ‘Fuck You!’, ‘Get Fucked!’, ‘Fuck you, mind the hair!’ Somehow he got back into the party and I asked him ‘how’s your head?’ and he just said “Whaddya mean?” - it was just so rock’n’roll!”

Eric has pre-arranged with their tour driver to take him over to the Boiler Room, where the BDO’s electronica acts are playing. He wants to see German electronic innovators Kraftwerk. “One of the bands I was in before the Murderdolls was very digital and computer based,” he reveals. “Kraftwerk don’t do a lot of live shows and I don’t think I’ll ever get the opportunity to see them again. They’re pretty important to the genre and even if I catch just 10 minutes of their set I think it will be worth coming over. A short ride through the back entrance, we arrive at the Boiler Room and manage to get in, via a bit of a labyrinth, through the backdoor and into the main arena just at the side of the stage. The Kraftwerk guys are standing robot-like in front of their computers while the huge dome-like venue is dripping with sweat from the 10.000+ strong punters who have basically been locked in the room all day listening (sic) the dance bands. We get a good vantage point but after about five minutes we’re leaving. “Jeez! That was the most boring piece of crap I’ve seen!” exclaims Eric when he gets back to the dressing room. “But it was worth going because I scored some drugs!”

Acey’s just hanging around backstage with his camera and a little doll from The Nightmare Before Christmas. He has a ritual where he takes a photograph of the doll in front of landmarks all around the world. “I have him in front of the Eiffel Tower for instance,” he says. “The other day I took a pic of him in front of the Sydney Opera House.” And with that he takes a photo of the doll sitting in front of a sign that says ‘Sleazy’. Hmmm. Odd man.

Acey and Eric are loving every minute of the Murderdolls ride. They’re both on their first trip to Australia and according to both of them it is (sic) has been “Cool as hell!” “The Gold Coast was really on,” says Eric. “It’s been kinda mellow since we got to Sydney because we’ve had four or five days off before this show so we’ve just been trying to find out what’s been going on. It’s been building gradually… and we’ve been partying a lot – maybe too much,” he adds sheepishly. Rick the tour manager – who’s passing by – agrees: “Yep, they’ve been very naughty boys – they’ve got to go to bed early tonight with no supper,” he jokes.

“He knows we’re the most dangerous band on the tour,” counters Eric. It’s a fact that seems to deter any other bands partying with the Murderdolls too. “The only band that has even reached out to us are the guys in Jane’s Addiction, in particular, Dava Navarro,” offers Acey. “He actually came out of his way to come over and introduce himself. And pretty much comes up and talks to us everyday he sees us along with the drummer, Steven [Perkins]. Everyone else is just kinda like, ‘What’s Up?’ Maybe it’s because we don’t look like we’re the most approachable band. Then again no-one has done anything to piss us off at all.”

No one may be talking to the Murderdolls but there is talk of the Murderdolls all over BDO. Most centres around their appearance with most Australian musical luminaries agreeing the band are the best dressed at the festival. One member of Aussie band the Resin Dogs even goes as far as to say, “The Murderdolls rock the wardrobe”. Acey is kinda flattered but non-plussed by the comments. “What image?” he exclaims. “This is how we are all day! Obviously we knock it up a notch for the show but this is the real thing. We don’t care if people like us as sexual deviants or not, but one thing’s for sure – they’ll fucking remember us.”

Big Ben Graves strides over to join us at the table. “Did I hear the words sexual deviant?” he announces in his deeply rounded US accent. “I’ve always been like that! Some people have a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other – I just two devils. There is NO voice of reason!”

We ask him if he has had any interesting adventures since he’s been in Australia and then instantly regret it…

“Dude, it has been nothing but interesting adventures. For instance last night, he (indicating Eric) he almost screwed a one-armed girl!”

“She had three tits and one arm,” giggles the dimunitive (sic) bassist.

“Yeah. It was weird,” continues the Ghoul, “one of her arms was like a stump and it looked like it had a nipple on it. I must admit I almost fucked her just for the freakiness of it.”

And with that starter for 10, the Ghoul is off. He starts ranting on with these sick freak jokes that crack everyone up and inside a minute you get a window to his personality. “Our drummer is one bona fide sick fuck,” jokes Wednesday of him later. “He stills (sic) freaks us out. I’ll just look at him sometimes and say to myself, ‘holy shit, dude, what planet are you from?’”

“It was weird on the Gold Coast,” says Eric, picking up on the tour adventure thread. “The girls there were the hottest chicks I had ever seen in my life but by the same token I had never got as much shit for the way I look than I have there as well. It was like two opposite poles. At first it was, ‘hey freak, where’s the funeral?’ and the next was, ‘sit down have a drink with us.”

“As far as people looking at you weird, I found Sydney is where I got the stares,” admits the Ghoul. “Sydney sucks! Although we did have some girls staking out our hotel which was pretty funny and I did have an over-zealous fan thrown out of the bar. The guy was just touching me a little more than he should and I didn’t like it,” he says animatedly. “I was like, ‘man, don’t make me waste this perfectly good bottle of Heineken by breaking it over your head. I’ve done it before’. Eric looks at him and says, “yeah he has!” But he was on something. I remember thinking ‘I want whatever he’s on… times ten!”

“I gotta say though, the Sydney crowd today was one of the best crowds we’ve had so far,” offers Acey as he joins the throng. “It was insane. It is good for us this tour, because the kids don’t know what we are all about yet so we have to prove ourselves. By the end of the set they all had their hands in the air.”

By this time Joey and Wednesday have finished their feed and their hastily re-scheduled interview and are looking for some more mischievous fun for themselves. “First of all, I’m going to go back over to the stage we played because there are a lot of kids hanging around over there still wanting to see us,” explains Joey. “Then after that, I’m gonna go directly where ever (sic) the free drinks are at…” Suddenly, Eric’s doubled over in the doorway of the dressing room. It’s been 45 minutes since he visited Kraftwerk in the Boiler Room and the pharmaceuticals are beginning to take effect. We ask if he’s OK. “Yeah man, I just think I’m gonna spew!” he grins. The rest of the band are baiting him ceaselessly.

“C’mon chuck it up man!” they urge and all crack up laughing together.

In the middle of all the commotion Wednesday is taking a piss in the corner of the dressing room. The place is a wreck: there are empty bottles of booze, food scrapes (sic), squashed fruit, hairdryers, make-up, boots, clothes (black and red if (sic) course) and of course a giant mirror. Wednesday is actually pissing into a bottle of Corona. At the same time I am just about to pick up my freshly opened bottle of Corona from the table which is besides (sic) a now suspicious looking bottle. “Yeah I always piss in the empty bottles,” giggles Wednesday. And then I leave ‘em on the table just to piss off anyone who might want to grab some of our rider or whatever. Just be careful just to get bottles from down there in the ice box, he laughs mischievously. Suddenly the oddly warm bottle in my hand seems less than appealing…

As the clock turns 1am the only people left at the stadium are the cleaners, the roadies and the still-partying Murderdolls. Last to leave, the van is parked just outside the dressing room and all I can see through the opened door is the Ghoul chucking around a baguette, now baked hard as a rock over the course of the stifling hot day. “Look at this - it could be used as a weapon to seriously maim you!” he screams bouncing the French loaf off the wall. A post vomit Eric cracks up, as the two hold a mock baguette joust oblivious to the outside world. They eventually make off back to their hotel room in the city, but don’t hang there for too long. The weekend lights of Sydney beckon and they cruise down William street in King’s Cross, to an underground rock venue called Club 77. It’s glam night, just their crowd and they spend the wee hours of the morning hanging out with fans and getting stuck into the sauce with a vengeance. Australia has officially been Murderdolled!

Blood and Glitter

Gavin Braddeley charts the rise of shock rock

Glam is hard evidence that what goes around comes around. Long dismissed as the definitive climax of 70s bad taste, in recent years glam rock has arisen from the grave, albeit with a veil of cobwebs draped over its original dusting of glitter. Originally a violent reaction to the 60s happy fad for all things natural, worthy, meaningful and drab, glam was all about being deliberately artificial, selfish, throwaway and garish.

In the States Alice Cooper was impaling baby dolls and throwing blood bottles around the stage from ‘70 onwards culminating in the vaudeville theatrics of the ‘Welcome To My Nightmare’ album/tour of ‘76.

Back in the UK, the Glam pioneer was lame pop pixie Marc Bolan (sic), photogenic frontman with T-Rex, who caused a sensation when he took to the stage on Top of the Pops in ‘71 with glitter under his eyes, clad in what looked suspiciously like drag. Never one to miss a trick, the lizard-like David Bowie soon jumped from the hippy ship to take on his otherworldly Ziggy Stardust persona.

The older generation may have thought that smearing make-up on your face and covering your clothes in sequins made you look like a ‘pooftah’. Alice Cooper got around this by replacing Glam’s overt ‘fagginess’ with ghoulish melodrama, prompting one critic to observe that Americans were more comfortable with necrophilia than homosexuality. And then came Kiss. Gene Simmons’ monstrous blood vomiting, fire breathing ‘Demon’ persona enslaved an entire generation of US children crossing Glam’s theatricality with heavy metal machismo to create one of the most influential bands in rock music history.

W.A.S.P. and Mötley Crüe supercharged Kiss’s sleaze and violence quotient to spectacular effect in the 80s, and provide the missing link between Glam and the Murderdolls, who happily cite the back-combed bad boys as a large part of their creative DNA. The chief inheritor of the Glam tradition in the last decade, however, is cross-dressing controversialist Marilyn Manson. Bowie may have metaphorically murdered his creation Ziggy Stardust in the summer of ‘74, while Bolan (sic) died more literally in a car accident three years later, but quarter-of-a-century on, Manson used his own dark arts to conjure their spirit on ‘Mechanical Animals’, his own tribute to pop’s most decadent decade.

Dead… and loving it!

The Murderdolls’ five favourite movie death scenes of all time…

The Murderdolls are proof positive that nothing gets some folks’ creative juices flowing quite so freely as a truly delicious cinematic death scene. Joey and Wednesday have a few favourites – both carnage connoisseurs identifying the ‘74 classic power toolfest The Texas Chainsaw Massacre as the gory cream of the crop – a movie currently being remade with a certain Mr. Manson in the soundtrack composer’s chair. (As a curious aside, you never actually see the girl hung on the hook – just a shadow – but such is the film’s sordid impact that most viewers swear you do!)

Joey 1. Texas Chainsaw Massacre “The girl on the hook.”

2. Friday The 13th Part IV “When the knife comes through the bed and impales the chick.”

3. The Exorcist “When the priest is hucked out through the plate glass window.”

4. A Nightmare on Elm Street “Where the girl is getting dragged across the rooftop.”

5. Necromancy “Where a group of devils and monsters take a girl apart.”

Wednesday 1. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre “The girl on the hook.”

2. Dawn of the Dead “When the spiked ball comes down and rips the guy’s head apart.”

3. Phantasm “A silver ball hits the guy in the head and sucks out all his brains.”

4. Hellraiser “Where (sic) the end sequence where the guy is being chased by all these hooks. They attach themselves to him and rip him apart.”

5. Nightmare On Elm Street “Where Freddy rips out the guy’s veins and uses them like strings controlling a puppet.”

Schlock n’ Roll

B-movie classics that have influenced shock rockers of now and then…

Some horror movies are best watched not so much with your tongue in your cheek, as thrust firmly through it, films that by accident or design are more about fun than fear. The same could be said of numerous horror loving bands, including the Murderdolls, where an ‘everyday is Halloween’ ethos prevails. Here are a few examples of B movie blood fests which may not have won any Oscars, have been paid tribute to by schlock loving bands over the years…

Plan 9 From Outer Space (1957) It is no surprise that the mother-of-all cult movies inspired the mother-of-all cult bands, and when Glenn Danzig created a label to release early Misfits material he dubbed it ‘Plan 9’. Frequently voted the worst movie of all time with its ludicrous script, mind bogglingly bad special effects, cardboard sets, and even more cardboard artistry, Plan 9 From Outer Space is irresistibly entertaining. Directed by the cross-dressing caliph of crap Ed Wood Junior, featuring proto-goth babe Vampira and Bela Lugosi (dying of drug addiction, he was replaced mid production by a stand-in who looks nothing like him).

The Abominable Dr Phibes (1971) Featuring horror cinema’s kind of camp Vincent Price as the fiendish Phibes, avenging the death of his wife using maniacal methods borrowed from the biblical plagues, all against wonderful, strangely psychedelic sets. Also possessed of a strange psychedelic sensibility are punk pioneers the Damned, though in the 80s, lead singer Dave Vanian’s horror sensibilities took centre stage, attracting a goth following. The 80 track ‘13th Floor Vendetta’ is a classic example of the band’s game-topping which, if you listen carefully, is all about ol’ Doc Phibes.

Mars Attacks! (1996) Director Tim Burton’s tribute to the drive-in shockers of the 50s and 60s, Mars Attacks! was actually based upon a ‘62 series of bubblegum cards, discontinued because of their gruesomely graphic pictures of earthlings being exterminated by alien invaders. As such this inspiration might suggest Mars Attacks! has little by way of plot, but for anyone with a weakness for vintage schlock sci-fi it’s a true Technicolor treat. This must certainly include the Misfits and when they reformed, they did so without the blessing of founder Glenn Danzig, but with their monster movie obsessions intact – among a multitude of horror movie tributes on their ‘97 comeback album ‘American Psycho’ was ‘Mars Attacks’ (and even an instrumental coincidentally titled ‘Abominable Dr Phibes’!)

I Was A Teenage Werewolf (1957) The drive-in movies of the 50s and 60s typically featured juvenile delinquents or monsters, and this bargain-basement effort delivered both in one lurid package. Before becoming ‘Pa’ on TV’s Little House on the Prairie Michael Landon stars as a troubled teen – though when he starts growing hair in strange places, it’s more than just hormones to blame. A howl from beginning to end, Teenage inspired a number on ‘Songs the Lord Taught Us’, the ‘80 debut from drive-in movie loving ghoulish rockers The Cramps.

Murder, mayhem and a right old mess

Minging Murderdoll tales from the Big Day Out

Who is the messiest Murderdoll of them all? Wednesday: “That would be Eric and The Ghoul. They are just messy as fuck. But you know you’ve just got to get used to living with these people. We’ve been on the road since July. You live on a bus for six weeks which means you’ve got (sic) live in everyone else’s shit.”

Who is the tidy anal doll? Joey: “No-one. We’re all pretty fuckin’ messy.” Wednesday: “I just took two garbage bags of mess out of my room. And just put it in the hallway. Just full of chicken bones and beer bottles and all sorts of shit like that, it was just smelling really bad so I had to get rid of it.”

So you do that yourself? Wednesday: “I don’t let the cleaning staff come into my room and tidy up. I put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign for the whole week I am there.” Joey: “The housekeepers are scared shitless to come into our rooms anyway so we keep it easy for them and put the ‘Do Not Disturb” signs up the whole time. They are going to be so scared to come into our rooms and clean up after we’ve been there for a fuckin’ week!”