So I’ve joined a gym. Mainly out of boredom and also because of something The Princess said a couple of weeks ago.

We were in Tassie sitting in a health spa and she said,

I want to get thin because we are only 3 years off thirty and then after that you can’t wear all of the young clothes anymore. This is our last opportunity!

I heard old lady fatness alarm bells. I agreed. Something had to be done, and done quickly, summer is approaching and I have many social events that I must look god for.

When it comes to exercise I am pretty on and off. I have always been a walker but that is hardly enough to make me supple and buff. The next week I marched along to my local pretentious gym, signed my life away and I have gone everyday since. I have been mixing it up a bit, yoga, cardio and weird weights I don’t really understand how to use so I watch other people and then copy them.  I don’t really do running either. I mean I can but I have this thing in my brain that says “it hurts, don’t do it”. I watch gym people get on the treadmill and run and run and run, ickies. I like the bikes and the ski thing that you swish back and forward on. Gee listen to me, I am gym professional. It’s good though, there aren’t too many supper skinnys and beef cakes. Don’t like the beef cakes.

I have noticed a bit of a difference though. My skinny jeans don’t feel as skinny. Yay for me. 30 and perky here we come! Oh god. I need counselling now.

I had a pretty average gig last night. It’s ok. It makes me stronger as a performer. Not everyone is going to love you all of the time. I know I’ve got tried and tested material but the audience were mainly comics, who rarely laugh at other comics jokes and the night was pretty long. I wasn’t really feeling the vibe.

It did bother me that one of the performers last night had a completely lifted routine. It’s soooooo wrong. You don’t steal other people’s jokes, especially if the routines are pretty famous. What a douche. He thought he was king shit. Whatever dude, you won’t go far that way!

The other day I was at Chatswood shopping centre and there was a beautiful dog tied up outside. He was cute and big and many people gathered around him and just stood and watched. I found this pretty fascinating. He was lovely but the way people were standing around you’d think it was a giraffe tied up. Silly.

Anyway I have to go and use weights that I don’t know how to use. Are you gym people? Fitness freaks?

Special note* I love receiving comments but if you are going to criticize me but won’t leave a name I am not going to publish it. Cheers.

A while ago I wrote a blog about my near arrest after we were caught with a fake gun for a comedy sketch. It was irritatingly amusing for all involved and I am glad we didn’t end up dead.

Well the comedy sketch, staring me and some other blokes, Pelican Gusto (who are very funny) was finally posted.
Here it is.

The quality of the video is not the best here, so if you’d like to watch it in high quality, you can watch it here. Make sure you click “watch in high quality”.
Tell me what you think.

I am the girl with brown hair in the sketch in case you don’t get it!
Cheers and all that LeishBlog.

Last night I walked through Sydney CBD and it was packed with World Youth Day kids. Catholic pilgrims as far as the eye can see. I am not religious and good on them for getting a church funded holiday, I just hope they use this time to have lots of underage sex and to party a lot. Like a big school camp filled with debauchery. Somehow I doubt it though. These kids looked all holy and happy, with bright polar fleeces and big name badges. As a teen I think I would have rather walked naked than dress in fluorescent polar fleece and hang with a bunch of do gooders.

Sheesh didn’t realise this massive Catholic event erked me so much. They are shutting the Sydney Harbour Bridge down! Please!

Ok I need to move on.

On Saturday I had a stand up gig in the city. It was pretty good. Crowd were responsive and I think the only thing that was unusual about the night is that they kept the lights on, so I could eyeball everyone off in the audience.  I am used to doing this looking around façade where in the dark people think I am looking directly at them, which I am not. I couldn’t do that when I could see them all. Here are some photos of me being lively.

I have 2 weeks left in Sydney before my temporary move to Melbourne.  The Princess and I are squeezing in many social activities. On Sunday night The Princess managed to score some tickets to see Lowrider again, the band we saw in Hobart the weekend before. They make very sexy music and The Princess uses some of their tracks on the TV show she works for.

We arrived about 6 hours too early so we went for a wonder around Newtown. We found a Jewellery shop, with lots of silver bangles and slightly gawdy Egyptian style cuffs.

As we walked in there was a lesbian lass paying at the counter. The counter area led to the rest of the shop. Normally I wouldn’t mention someone’s sexual preferences while telling a story, because it isn’t needed but this time I think it is. We stood politely waiting for to scoot aside a little to let us pass through, The Princess in her dainty English accent said,

“Excuse me please”

And she took one look at us and just stood there.

It was very uncomfortable and she had bad, bad hair. I can’t begin to imagine why she had such bad manners. Maybe she didn’t like two well dressed women who had both seen hairdressers instead of home bleaching, stepping on her Egyptian jewellery shop turf? How awkward. Eventually the shop owner who looked a bit miffed at this stand off made some room and we passed thorough.

After the jewellery shop we headed into a big old second hand book shop. Anyone who has walked along the main drag of Newtown in Sydney will know which one I am talking about. It is filled and I mean filled with books. There seems to be no order, books and records are stacked in milk crates and I think you could easily be crushed to death by an avalanche of falling books and no one would discover you for weeks, if not months. The Princess was puzzled and amazed by this sight.

The Princess:

I can’t believe this! Look at the dust! How do they pay the rent here? I mean really look at the records, there is no order, how do they know if they have a book or record?

I could see she was going to implode with questions.  

LeishBlog:

Maybe the owner has some sort of photographic memory and can pin point a book or record in 2 seconds…….War and Peace…..Level one, aisle 4, second shelf from the floor!

We looked at the owner and immediately discounted my theory.

The only section that was mildly organised was the porn area. I think that’s how they pay the rent.

The Princess:

Looks, that very neat, set out with a bit of thought

(Pointing at the aged Playboys and Penthouse mags)

Who buys second hand pornos? Is it wrong to ask? I mean you’ve got a pretty good idea where they’ve been and that’s not pretty.

I am probably going to loose a lot of street cred in the hood for mentioning this but The Princess and I went to see Mamma Mia and I like it. It was happy and nice. I love a good slasher/murder/serial killing thriller s much as the next person but it was good to just play pretend for an hour and half and enjoy watching Meryl Street prance around.

Afterwards we went for pizza. The restaurant was full so we sat at a table which was about 3 inches away from another couple. Quite shortly after we sat down a lovely window table became free. We moved. The man from the couple, otherwise referred to as the Jerk said to his wife loudly,

Jerk:

Those girls obviously didn’t want to sit near us, that’s rude, were we doing something wrong? Who gets up and moves like that?

Um maybe because you are a tool?

Jerk:

Is there something wrong with us? I can’t believe it!

How about you get a life?

Some people are mental.

A weekend away on a cold island, dinning on delicious delights and drinking fine wine, that’s what I needed and that what I got.

As a thank you for my surprise birthday weekend I took Princess Nicole to wintery Tasmania for a ultra quick getaway. As I have said before it was going to be a big surprise but when she was convinced that we were going on a tropical getaway I had to tell her otherwise it would have been bikinis and sarongs instead of coats, and gloves!

We took off on Friday night had a fabulous meal on the Hobart waterfront which The Princess said “she would remember forever”. It was nice. Saturday we met up with my Dad who delighted in giving The Princess an executive tour around Hobart, with lots of funny Dad commentary “this is the best place to Park in the city” and we also visited most of the places that I lived throughout my teen years and uni,

“That’s where Leish went to school”

“That’s were she once at a sandwich,”

“That place sells good bread”

It was fun and we laughed a lot. I would recommend Dad as a tour guide, maybe he should take it up as a hobby.

We then walked through the Salamanca Market. They are the thing to do as a tourist in Hobart. There are lots of jingle jangles, junk, expensive touristy things, arty things, hippies and our favourite patterned hoodies. There seems to be some sort of fashion frenzy happening in Hobart, a southern based fad and that is every kid under 20 is wearing a patterned hoody. It became our  Where’s Wally game of the weekend.

Princess Nicole:

And the meal was fabulous….patterned hoody!!

(as pack of youth clad in hoodies walked by)

A rack of patterned hoodies

We also spotted these stupid hats and a disturbing mannequin with a dodgy beard.

What weird and ridiculous fashion fads have you noticed recently?

We drove past the Republic Hotel, a popular live music venue and I noticed that Lowrider where playing that night.

Princess Nicole:

Oh my God, I love them. We have to go….it would be the best holiday ever if we went….please can we go?

Ted called the venue for us and it was a no go, sold out. The Princess was sad, I called the venue again,

LeishBlog:

Hello, can we please have some Lowrider tickets? Prett please we have come al the way from Sydney and we missed them there and we really do want to see them. !

Pub Guy:

Well I suppose we could sell you some tickets… (woman in the back ground telling him it is “Sold Out! Roger”) Yeah you can have tickets!

LeishBlog:

Yipeeeeeee

Princess Nicole:

Yippeeeeee! Best holiday ever!

We went to a very swanky restaurant for dinner with Ted an Rae and ate lots of little tapas style meals and drank lots of wine and told stories of a sexual nature loudly! (I think that was just me) but we were pretty rowdy.

The gig was awesome, great band and I felt old because there where lots of young boys and drunk girls, one of which was so smashed (and I am guessing it wasn’t just booze she was affected by), that her singlet top kept falling off (hello boys) and there was quite a lot of Tara Reid style bosom exposure. We bopped a lot and pushed against the crowd…some people are really rude when it comes to crowds….I am a gig prude.

The Princess had one request when it came to Tassie, that she saw a Tasmanian Devil.

Princess Nicole:

Are they everywhere babe, just roaming around?

LeishBlog:

No babe I’ve only ever seen them dead on the road.

We decided to go to a tourist place called Zoo Doo to fulfil her request…..yeah interesting decision.

Ted and I had never been to Zoo Doo. You don’t usually do tourist things when you live in the area. The brochure shows lots of animals, Tasmanian devils and Tigers.

Ridiculous

The first horrific moment of the Zoo visit was upon entry we were told to go and watch a pony race, a race that immediately made Ted and I tear up. I was so sad, seeing pony’s with fake monkeys attached to their backs jumping broom heads.

Next was the nursery, where we worked out that there were no rules at this hick zoo. You could do what you want, go in and out of enclosures and there seemed to be no supervision.

It was mental and it also appeared that you could buy most of the animals.

Christ.

We saw a monkey eating a lollypop. That’s got to be bad for them.

I was looking forward to the ‘rides’ that were advertised in the brochure.

Too Bad.

There were dead things on wall……in a zoo you ask? Not any Zoo…this is redneck Zoo Doo

(this was the look on Teds face for most of the Zoo Doo experience, a mixture of horror and sadness)

I fed some confident Kangaroos and deers.

Princess Nicole thought I was going to die.

As we went to leave in a state of mild disgust over the shambles that was called a zoo I said to Princess Nicole,

LeishBlog:

Babe I am so sorry that this place is the stuff of nightmares and that we didn’t see any Devils, they must be all tie tie and having a special nap. (then I spotted a couple). Babe look….it must be good karma, Tassie Devils!!

Princess Nicole:

OMG I love them, I want to take them home!

LeishBlog:

They would eat your face off, they aren’t cuddly….

We watched them fight and chase each other Benny Hill style for a while.

It was fun.

I left that zoo wanting to buy all of the animals and donate them to a proper wildlife sanctuary. If anyone has any coin to spare, please buy the animals.

The whole weekend was great and now I am tie tie and need a nap.

A further 2 days of slumming around may be required for me to recover from the weekend. There wasn’t any hard drinking….well actually moderate alcohol consumption on Friday night with Princess  Nicole did ensue but I was hangover free on Saturday so it doesn’t count.

Friday night consisted of a lovely pizza at the Oaks and a couple of bottles of Sauvignon Blanc, otherwise referred to by us as Savvy B (bartenders look on confused, get with the program pretty boys.)

Click clacking home from the pub, Princess Nicole decided we had time for a DVD, but not a DVD of my choice or even one that we chose together, it had to be A nightmare on Elm Street.

LeishBlog:
Really, what about the original Dawn of The Dead. Zombies are better than Freddy.

Princess Nicole:
Babe, I came up with the idea of the DVD so I should be able to choose and it’s the best…

LeishBlog:
Seriously babe there are better horror films than that stupid man with the funny face. He just needs some moisturiser and some sedatives really…..

cleanse tone and moisturise…and stop the murdering.

Guess who won? Having never seen any of the Nightmare on Elm Street films, I laughed and cackled though most of it. I was impressed with Johnny Depp’s youth and that they went on to make another 68 films in the series. Who funded these productions? My favourite character was the alcoholic, spray tanned mother. Hilarious.

Saturday I headed north on the bogan NSW rail train to Newcastle to catch up with the family and to perform at a new Stand Up Comedy night.

We had some diner and turned up at the venue, a pub. It was packed and loud but had a good vibe. I must say the crowd were pretty rowdy and I was a little nervous prior to  hitting the stage but with a “Knock em dead Leish” from my uncle Paul I headed to the stage and again had a fabulous gig. Everyone shut up, I had the focus of the room and I worked it. It felt good. I had written a new ending for the act and added a couple of older bits to the routine which I hadn’t performed for a while but they ended up flowing well. I felt comfortable and if I had anything else to say I could have stayed up there for ages. Great night, well run and such a good ides for Newcastle. It also turned out that it was a competition and I won which was lovely. I felt so happy that my family were seeing me for the first time live and I did a good job. It was also funny watching my Aunty Ann’s expression with some of the vulgarity that escaped from a couple of the comedians mouths. Classic!

We headed to the vineyards on Sunday in search for the dream wedding location for the McTrents Wedding (My cousin Claire and her delightful fiancé Trent’s wedding!). It was a big day, 9 vineyards, 9 wedding coordinators, all with carrying degrees of skills in convincing us that they could create he best and most memorable wedding ever. Big talk guys…big talk.

Trent’s sister Brooke, (who is also a bridesmaid and my new chick on the block) and I joined teams with me to suss these people out and most importantly gather information about the booze for the big day and where the dance floor will be located for us to perform our choreographed routine. One of the most ridiculous schemes that we came across was the continuing fallacy spread by most of the venues about how many people that they can fit in their function rooms. One of the places featured a room no bigger than my apartment,

Wedding Coordinator No 6:
Yes well this is the room, it seats 180 people.

Brooke and LeishBlog:
Really, what on top of each other? So where is the dance floor going to fit?

Wedding Coordinator No 6:
Well, we usually put it in the next room, just out there.

Brooke and LeishBlog:
Right thanks for your time but we have to move on to the next venue, we ain’t dancing around a corner or in another room lady, get real.  

At the same venue as ‘dance floor around the corner woman’ I spotted these weird things in jars. We left pretty much immediately.

 
LeishBlog (to Trent’s Mum Pam):
Trent and Claire can’t get married where they have dead babies in Jars, it’s just not right.

After laughing at my joke she turned to me quite seriously…. 

Pam:
You won’t mention dead babies in jars in the wedding speech will you?

LeishBlog:
Probably not Pam…..probably not. 

I had such a fabulous day and I just want the wedding to be here now, however we do have a bit of a wait, a year and a bit, just enough time for me to find a hunky boyfriend who can join in on our choreographed dance….any takers?

When the subject of the possible boyfriend arose my Aunty Ann fearing another mouth to feed at the wedding said

Aunty Ann:
You won’t need a partner Leish! You can just sit on the bridal table, you don’t need a partner. We can all dance together, there won’t e time for a partner on the night!  

Claire:
But of course if you meet someone, you should bring him!

Bless 

I love my family. They are the best and they make me laugh so much.
Go the McCormacks, Go the Playfords, what a team!!

Words and phrases that should be used more often

Jerk
Holy mackerel
Oo la la
Whack….. that’s whack
Ning nong….you are a ning nong
Hullabaloo ….Leish you are creating such a hullabaloo
Faeces…..
Ignoramus
Tool
Sorry now we are just getting into regular phrases of abuse used by me now.

What are your favourite words?

So I am beyond frustrated because I have misplaced an uber important folder containing most of my life, ie passport, bank info and my birth certificate…hello identity theft shits. I don’t think I would have thrown it out but it is creating a hell of a hullabaloo. It’s all I have been thinking about. I have pulled apart my entire room and the last time I remember see it is before I moved. That is not good.
What if I win a holiday and have to be ready to go somewhere in a hurry? This has to be rectified. Anyone got any ideas where it could be? I think I am going to unpack my entire room into the lounge room and just start again….Maybe I put it somewhere for safe keeping? Maybe I accidentally threw it out? Christ I hope not.

Last night Princess Nicole, Jus and I went for a curry. Nothing more to say about that, except it was yummy.

I have a gig in Newcastle this weekend. It should be fun. I think the McTrents are coming along (my cousins). It is the first time that they will se me perform live. I am nervous about that, a little bit. Actually I get tense when there are people I know I the audience, otherwise I am much more relaxed now. I have been asked to do 10 minutes, which is fine, I have re-jigged a couple of bits, so it flows now. Ideally I would like to have 20 minutes by the end o the year. I know that doesn’t sound much but sheesh developing good material is a gig by gig process. If something doesn’t work and I believe in it I will go back and rewrite it and try again. Last gig I retired a bit that I had given up on and it went off, so happy I didn’t abandon it in the comedy wasteland!

I am taking The Princess to Tasmania next week. She thought we were going to Vanuatu.
Hahhahahahahahaahhahahahaahahhahahahahahahhahhahahahahahahahaahahahaha.
I did lead her on a bit but I thought it was time to fess up when she was talking about getting a spray tan and what bikins she was going to pack….Tasmania is averaging 10 degrees at the moment so I didn’t want her turning up at the airport with minimal clothing.

Bless. I am going to make her have a good time and she will like it by the end of our stay…she will. I have lots of exciting things to do and she will get to meet my Dad, which is nice. We also plan to drink a lot and eat and eat and eat and did I mention drinking. Yumoramma.

I spoke to the lovely Kath last night. She is my friend in France who was in Japan and I visited her last year. Skype is amazing. Seeing her in her singlet top in her little French apartment while I was rugged up in my turtle neck in my bedroom, is bizarre. I miss her very much but being able to see her and watch her pull funny faces and cackle at my stories of silliness and woe is really special.

Do you use skype?

Kay, that’s it.

It seems I have created an international mystery with my tales of neighbours especially that of 80’s man and the mobile phone carrier sales girl. Now in a creepy way I know a lot of you want to hear about a murder investigation, ala CSI or him being caught dumping her body in the boot of his taxi and me having to go into witness protection (that is horrible guys) but its worse, we don’t know what happened! 80’s guy had a reputation for being really loud and then it was always followed by an eerie silence. One night we were asleep and we were woken by a psychotic shrill from above, crazy frightening screaming.

“Fuck you! Fuck you all…. die you fucking cu*ts!!”

And there was all of this banging and clanging while he continued to scream. His voice scared the shit out of me especially considering a couple of moments earlier I was blissfully asleep. What a freak.  Thinking of him now I actually believe the DJs next-door are pretty harmless. I wonder if 80’s man is in jail? I sort of hope so…

Thanks to everyone who left comments on the last post, it seems we have all had nasty neighbour experiences. That could be a whole blog in itself.

My solitary life of logging tapes continues. I have gotten into this weird nocturnal habit.  Staying up late watching bizarre TV and then sleeping until the last possible second before having to getup and starting to work again. Even though I know I should be tempted to slop around in trackies and not brush my hair, I still wear normal clothes and do my make up. (I don’t want you to think I look like one of the mannequins from down the road).

You never know when you might need to look good, and I fear that if I don’t do this I might loose the will to get out of bed at all and I will become a skanky tape logger who only wears pyjamas and never does her hair. I have another week of this work and I can’t complain because it’s work and I am getting paid but I am looking forward to going back to an office with real people and not just Dr Phil. (even though he is my lunchtime entertainment, so many Americans with problems….love it!)

I do like freelancing and TV is an exciting industry but logging is one of the more inane jobs that has to be done. Basically everything they shoot has to be recorded manually. For example, you write the time code, the description of the shot and what is said in the piece. Lucky I am a fast typer!

So other news, I am heading to Melbourne for three months in August! It will be LeishBlog on tour. Exciting, I hope so.

We are heading into the second season of the show I was writing on earlier in the year and they have decided to move production south. This is cool, albeit a bit annoying for me to have to fill my room for 3 months, but I am seeing it as an excellent opportunity to rock the socks of Victoria, do lots of stand up gigs and meet cute Melbourne boys (I like them!). That can’t be bad! I am now on the hunt out for places to stay in Melbourne. Hopefully Ted from Tassie will be along as well as he has been courting the production company for a gig. It will be nice to have some company.

I also have my cousin Claire and Trent’s  (otherwise known as the McTrents) engagement party! I am stoked because I am going to be a bridesmaid. Rock it guys and I get to do a speech at the wedding. Already planning it. Trent said,

“Just as long as you don’t bring out your old act! That could be a bit depressing.”

Which is here if you have the time, check it out.

Basically it is about cancelling my wedding! Yeah really appropriate.

No, I am going to do all new material, obviously about how fabulous Trent and Claire are! I am very excited, there might even be a multimedia presentation.

We also have our annual ski trip coming up. I am willing the weather to get cold (damn you global warming) and give us some decent snow or it ill be an après weekend.

SNOW DAMN IT SNOW!

Right Dr Phil just started so you will have to excuse me…

I have been at home all of this past week, logging tapes and I think there is either a drug dealer living in the building or a brothel because the traffic going in and out of the apartment across the hall is never-ending. It’s like peak hour out there and there are only 4 apartments! What is going on?

One of the apartments, who we call the DJ’s because they think that’s what they are, should be preparing themselves for an Aleisha ball busting. When we first moved in, upon spying their deck and headphone set up through their window (hey their blinds are always open) we jumped to conclusion about them being noisy…conclusions that were right.

I don’t mind a bit of music, it’s just that they live weird hours and often the beats start at about 5am, just when I am settling into snugly dreams (about plane crashes, visiting celebrity homes and the occasional sexy dream). The worst part is that both Jus and I have avoided confronting them. We just get stroppy. Every weekend we also seem to be walking out our door at the same time as the DJ’s shag of the night,  a random girl does the walk of shame.

Bit of a tool

Now as soon as I moved in I checked these guys out and they are not shag worthy. I am suspicious as to how they score each week. I think it may be Rohypnol because it sure as hell isn’t their charm. Every time I see one of the DJ’s he says;

DJ 1:
Hey, my names Dj 1, I don’t think we’ve met!

LeishBlog:
Yeah Dj1, we have, like 5 times….

I know everyone has weird neighbours. They are obligatory. They either cook stinky things, have loud sex, fight, play bad music or you may suspect them of being serial killers. It’s part of the deal, I know.

In our first place away from home Nick the Ex and I lived underneath a guy we called ‘80’s man’ he had some problems. He played a lot of 80’s music, yelled a lot (he lived alone) and was a taxi driver, but he never drove the taxi, just parked it in the driveway with the window down so he could hear the taxi radio. One day a door to door sales girl  came around, I told her “thanks but no thanks but the guy upstairs will definitely buy what you’re selling”

We listened to her climb the stairs, we heard his Cro-Magnon Man rumblings and then she went inside his house. I felt terrible. Like she was our sacrificial lamb. We could hear them talking all afternoon and we couldn’t figure out why she would stay that long. Surely changing your phone account to their dodgy company couldn’t take that long? I didn’t want to go out that night in case he was  planning on dumping her body while we were away. I remember Nick saying something like.

“She knocks on peoples doors for a living. Meeting people like 80’s man is the risky part of the job! She’ll be fine. I am sure she earns a good commission and that they teach them self defence!”

Yeah right.

Do you have dodgy neighbours or are you a dodgy neighbour?

My favourite news story of the week, the dress code at the Royal Ascot races. This has been a big story in the UK due to the fact than many hussies and slutty boombas like to get their wares out in front of her Majesty the Queen. In an attempt to stop vajayjays being exposed, the race organisers set about creating a very concise dress code including photographic examples to prevent fashion mishaps.  

“Her Majesty’s Representative wishes to point out that only formal day dress with a hat or substantial fascinator will be acceptable.
Off the shoulder, halter neck, spaghetti straps and dresses with a strap of less than one inch and / or mini skirts are considered unsuitable. Midriffs must be covered and trouser suits must be full length and of matching material and colour.”

They also go on to make notes about poorly applied fake tans, flashy jewellery, faulty footwear and most importantly a gentle reminder for ladies to wear some undies.

Tan much?

When wearing a 4 inch dress, how is it that you neglect to wear undies…..even teeny tiny undies? Just something to cover up the vital bits? What a nanna to think that a gynaecology exam shouldn’t be a public event. (Oh Brit Brit)

Here are some of my fav photos of what Ascot believes are the correct ways to dress for a day at the races…..

This is gross                          Floral nightmare!

After seeing these photos. I have changed my mind. I have decided that the slutty look is much more interesting than floor length, big hat, not tit, no fun outfits. Rock on slutty horse racing girls.

At least she’s wearing pants!

Weird things have been popping up on facebook, all of the advertising in between the update and status feeds. This particular advert disturbed me.

The dude is creepy. Look at his glasses on his nose, that self-satisfied look and his hairy arms, icky poos. Imagine being an Asian bride and turning up to this guys house. What a downer.

For comedy purposes I wanted to click on the ad, but then I thought I might end up in jail. I imagined the prison call to my Dad,

Dad:

Aleish I can’t believe you are in prison…well I can sort of, what scheme got you in the clink this time…..

LeishBlog:

Dad I was looking at a web site for Asian Mail Order Brides.

Dad:

Oh Jesus you are not a lesbian are you? Couldn’t you find a girlfriend here? You’re pretty….

LeishBlog:

Thanks Dad, but trust me I like guys, probably a bit too much….not girls…I was just looking at the site for my blog….do you think they will let me blog from jail? There is some pretty good material in the slammer.

Dad:

I’ll sell the car to bail you out….I love that car! Damn it…Damn you Asian Brides!

I don’t condone Asia bride websites but they do fascinate me. It reminds me of the Little Britain sketch, Dudley and his She man Thai Bride, Ting Tong.

I had a pretty sedate weekend. I have been working from home the past week, logging tapes for a TV show I have been working on. It’s cool but I have found myself talking aloud to Dr Phil, spending too much time on the facebook and coming up with wily business schemes. Anyone got any ideas?

I went to a fancy dress party on Saturday night. I went as a magpie. The Princess was a bunny.  We heard everyone was going as cats. I thought a magpie was the opposite of a cat.

I made some elaborate wings and Justin did my hair. We went to another party afterwards. People looked at us funny. Didn’t bother me.

Actually I wasn’t in a hella party mood. I got stuck in this conversation with a girl who kept saying ‘my boyfriend’ every 2 seconds.  Like the Seinfeld episode were Elaine gets stuck with the woman who keeps saying “my fiancé.”

Woman:  I wonder what happened to my fiancé.  I know he’s here somewhere.
Ellen?  Have you seen my fiancé?
Ellen:  He’s upstairs.
Woman:  Are you going upstairs?  Tell my fiancé I’m looking for him.  I have
lost my fiancé, the poor baby.
Elaine:  Maybe the dingo ate your baby.
Woman:  What?
Elaine:  The dingo ate your baby!

Even when I was engaged I struggled to say fiancé. I preferred ‘guy I may or may not marry but I currently have a ring so chances are good’ (little did I know!)

The ‘my boyfriend’ girl went on and on about how there were no eligible guys at the party and what a sad state of affairs it would be to be single in ‘this climate’.

‘In this climate’?

As Gordon Ramsey would say, fuck me, what the buggery does that mean? Anyone have any ideas?

Maybe global warming is decreasing the rate of eligible men? Or maybe they are all just gay (Justin’s happy theory…not everyone is a homo Jus, they just can’t be).  

Also please note the fantastic Seinfeld original TV Guides that Justin got for me for my birthday (legend). They are from the final episode. Kudos to him for finding something Seinfeld related that I don’t already have!

The mental patient mannequin from the last blog was so popular I thought I would show you her friend, Mental patient 80s boyfriend, who stands next to her. He wears just as much make up, check out his cheek bones, and is also wearing a robe and a dodgy 80’s rocker bi sexual hairstyle.

Finally in my blog stats you can see what people have searched for to find the LeishBlog. Here is an interesting selection from yesterday. Doesn’t really need a comment…..serial killers, exhibitionists and vomit erotica lovers……welcome to LeishBlog!

Everyday on the way to the bus I walk past a sheet and towel shop with this mannequin in the window. It always makes me laugh out loud. Look at her! Even in her expensive bath robe she appears to be a mentalist. That short fringe. Looks like she cut it herself, with kitchen scissors and the robe makes her look like a psych ward patient.

“This robe is yucky! I am going to cut my hair in a mod bob and shave my fringe! Lock me up! PLEASE!”

I hate hearing about people dreams; hate maybe is too strong, I glaze over in boredom and mechanically nod my head along and pretend to be fascinated. Now I am going to do it to you. Just for a second, bare with me please.

Last night I had a frighteningly vivid dream about being in a plane and chatting to my friends and being happy and then all of a sudden I hear this horrible shrill and the plane nose dives. Oh it was such a bad feeling, plunging to toward the ground, everyone screaming, waiting for certain death, completely helpless.

I turn to my friend and say,

“Well this is just great! I knew this was going to happen to me one day. Can I hold you hand? I don’t want to die alone,”

Then the plane levels out a bit and we crash into some water. All I can think about is my BlackBerry getting wet and that I don’t have it insured.

Seriously is this where my life is at? I have survived a horrific plane accident, I make the prolific statement ‘I don’t want to die alone’ and all I am worried about is a fucking BlackBerry?

The dream affected me so much I looked it up on a questionable web site which ‘interprets dreams’. I do believe that dreams reflect your subconscious but I can’t quite figure how they interpret them to mean certain things.

Anyway here is what they claim a plane crash means.

Airplane Crash
To dream that a plane crashes, suggests that you have set overly high and unrealistic goals for yourself. Your goals may be too high and are impossible to realize. You are in danger of having it come crashing down.

Fuck you very much dream web site, I do have high expectations of myself and it works well to motivate me.

Last year I went through a terrible fear of flying phase. So bad that I had to medicate prior to getting on the plane, thank you diazepam.

 I had never questioned why planes stay up in the air, what makes them work until the beginning of last year. Suddenly whenever I flew I freaked out, I had palpitations, listened to every single noise on the plane and constantly watched the flight attendants to see if they looked panicked. This is coming from someone who previously slept trough lighting storm on an international flights while my ex climbed the walls of the cabin (along with half of the plane) in terror.  I sat next to an air crash investigator on one of my trips who told me we had a one in one billion chance of crashing. I said

“Well  yeah dude, you still are in a job so you aren’t helping me.”

At the time, a counsellor I saw briefly said I wasn’t really scared of flying I was just projecting all of my other shit on to that event…..sounds bit like kooky dream interpretation. Anyway she was right and partially thanks to weekly flights for work earlier this year I recovered and only mildly panic when the plane dips and I still watch the flight attendants (hey if they look scared then grab your lifejackets people…not that they are going to help). I dear I do sound like a nervous Nelly. Might as well go and shave my fringe and get a bath robe.

ahahahahahahaahahahahahahaahahha