LapTopping – 67 – “Bitter, crappier, more seductive”
LapTopping – The Bit Long, Official E-zine of The Bedroom Philosopher
Estimated Reading Time: 13:03
**Melbourne Residency – Tuesdays in December @ The Northcote Social Club!**
**Wow Wow’s Song now on iTunes**
Happy Birthday Tina Turner 69 today!
SONG TO GET STUCK IN YOUR HEAD OF THE DAY
Herbie – Right Type Of Mood
“Mr Magoo, you may be blind, but I can still see you!
I’m in the right type of mood, right type of mood (x97)”
RESPONSES TO LAPTOPPING #66
“Just wanted to say Wow Wow is great, and judging by your most recent email, it sounds like you’re a bit more chipper than you’ve been of late. Glad to think things might be looking up for you. I had a pretty horrible break up two years ago, and it took me about a year of antidepressants to shake the thing completely. Thank goodness I finally feel past it now.”
“Reject if lid is depressed. Whenever I see this written on a bottle or jar of, say, tomato puree, I always experience a tiny pang of sympathy, quickly followed by a sense of embarrassment at how hyper-suggestible I am. I see the words ‘reject’ and ‘depressed’ and before I can stop myself, I am experiencing concern. Does this happen to you?”
“Bloory ell, B.P.! I’ve finally waded through it! Is it nearly eleven? (we all hope you are Ok, coz in a way if you’re Ok, then we’re Ok…). Just please please please never inflict us with morbid postings of how nobody understands you and your art! Keep LapTopping coming, you know we love it and it breaks the monopoly of MX…just look after your body chemistry now, won’t you!”
Everyone who has a letter published gets an Alf kite.
BEFORE THEY CAME UP WITH TOILET DUCK
Toilet Cat – A scientifically formulated feline shaped pack sits hauntingly in the corner, guilting you into cleaning.
Toilet Monkey – A one size fits all, ultra soft gorilla costume will make your domestic cleaning chores a breeze. Simply zip it up, grab a bucket of solution and go bananas!
Toilet Goldfish – Just drop the wind-up applicator in the bowl and watch it swim circles around the competition. In three seconds you’ll forget the grime!
Toilet Giraffe – Biologically perfect for getting under the rim. (Not so hot on getting out.)
Toilet Spider – Just drop into your cistern and let it lurk about under the rim. Your toilet stays fresh as everyone is too scared to use it.
Toilet Dog – This vibrating handi-pak comes with its own leash for extra control. Simply hurl it in for a messy but effective fox hunt on germs.
Toilet Worm – Simply drop and flush to allow this microscopic bleach-bomb to unleash a terrorist-grade sparkling clean on your neighbourhood pipeline.
Toilet Chicken – Lays a bicarb bomb that’ll have your cistern egg fresh!
Toilet Horse – They say you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it clean! Lay bets on whether it’ll finish half flush or full.
Toilet Peacock – This slim line bottle fans out to a dazzling array of perfumed feathers that get right under the rim and make a ‘ritual’ out of cleaning.
Toilet Koala – This lovable eucalyptus arrangement will cling dutifully to the rim emitting a cleansing sense of iconic passivity.
Toilet Ant – Simply drop in the robotically enhanced ‘terminator’ ant and watch it emotionally manipulate your near-by real ants to carry your germs away one by one!
Great moments in unsolicited conversation.
From Jessica, Adelaide.
Me at uni bar on shivering winters day ordering from the boring menu.
Me: Do you have mulled wine?
Cute British bar girl: Ummm what’s mulled wine? ( governor )
Me: It’s hot and English…just like you.
Bar girl: Um we just have merlot.
INANIMATE OBJECT BEREAVEMENT NOTICES
From Joanna, Sydney.
“About three months ago, we lost the little slide-y grey bit thingy that covers over the batteries on our TV remote. Now they fall out if you drop it, which we frequently do. Precious seconds of Mighty Boosh can be lost while scrabbling to get the batteries back in having dropped it while flicking channels to check the weather. To add insult to injury, the buttons aren’t working so well anymore. The only way to get to channel seven is to go to the ABC and press channel up until you get there. It’s incredibly difficult to press mute also, which makes for a sticky situation should mother call during the only sex scene of the Friday movie – how to suppress the panting??!! I am loathe to try a universal remote, especially as our DVD remote already turns the heater on and off.”
WE PRAY FOR THEIR RECALIBRATION
SEND YOUR GUERILLAGRAMS AND BEREAVEMENT NOTICES TO THIS ADDRESS.
GET A WRIGGLE ON GOOGLET!
Phrases people have typed into Google to land on my website:
“the bedroom philosofer” (bless)
“why are clouds so high?”
“bedroom concepts for elders people”
“baby cruskits recipe”
“fat cat and friends naked”
“things that are 57”
“cushions with robots on”
“how to end a booty call relationship”
“my girlfriend is overseas on holiday and im lonely”
“when do you prune pin cushions”
“slip slop slap song lyrics”
“the drummer and the wallaby – joke”
“how to spell happy birthday in lithuanian”
“ideas for a hangout bedroom for smokers”
“wheelbarrow inner tubes from adelaide”
TIME IS CHEESE AND MOUSE IS HUNGRY!
Check out the brand new Wow Wow’s Song Film Clip!
Choose watch in high quality. Please feel free to embed it on your page if you have a blog – it all helps.
A GIGGLE OF GIGS
(MELBOURNE, BURNIE, LAUNCESTON & SYDNEY)
Northcote Social Club Residency! Tuesdays in December.
Featuring two sets, one solo, and one with The Awkwardstra.
Arrive unfashionably early to catch the deluxe range of left-field supports.
All shows 8pm. $10. 301 High St, Northcote.
Tuesday December 2. The Town Bikes & Oliver Clark.
Tuesday December 9. The Suitcase Royale.
Tuesday December 16. Josh Earl.
Tuesday December 23. Scott Edgar.
QUEENSCLIFFE MUSIC FESTIVAL – 29-31 November.
Check your program to see where I’m on. I’m performing on a train on the Saturday!
FOLK, RHYTHM & LIFE FESTIVAL – 5-7th December.
Performing on Saturday afternoon with The Awkwardstra. (Tickets to both festivals have sold out.)
Stagedoor Cafe, Upper Burnie. December 13. 6pm. Playing two sets. $10.
Royal Oak Hotel. Brisbane Street. December14. Support by British Battlegrounds. 8:30pm. $8.
PEAT’S RIDGE FESTIVAL – 29-31 December.
Performing on the cabaret stage, 8:30pm on the 29th and 30th.
(Brought to you by Comic Sans The Musical. Graphic designers of the world unite to defeat the tacky font, being spread via a super virus by insane fontologist Dr Sans. A well-rendered romp.)
‘WOW WOW’S SONG’ SINGLE LAUNCH TOUR DIARY.
BRISBANE. JOYNT CAFE. SEP 20.
This unorthodox Saturday afternoon gig was conceived in partnership with utterly delightful local spoken-word visionary Zenobia Frost. A cushion adorned room was set-off with baskets of muffins, wine and other prizes for a super raffle. Support acts ranged from punchy punk-poets, idiosyncratic cabaret ragamuffins, and even a burlesque girl, who braved the casualness of a sunny Saturday afternoon to take her gear off. I was bemused at the morose sound guy, constantly wandering away from the desk like a restless child. The pub provided me with one of the better ham and salad toasted sandwiches of recent memory. Although the percentage of people there to see me appeared minimal, my performance was met with a generosity of spirit. At the end of Wow Wow’s Song I went into one of my more ferocious rock spaz-outs, ending up on my back with a leg hooked around the mic stand tipping it up so that the bottle of water attached to the drinks holder was pouring all over my crotch. This action was accompanied by me screaming ‘I’m so hot in the groin!’
BRISBANE. BRISBANE POWERHOUSE. SEP 21.
I headlined the free ‘Livewired’ comedy night which pulls a crowd of about 200. I thought I’d try mimicking the standard comedian thing where you insert the most picked on nearby town for a cheap laugh. I inserted Ipswich. I found out after the gig about half the audience were from Ipswich, including the Ispwich car club. I found out during the gig as well from the deafening bellows of the mob, only mildly subdued by my hurriedly compensatory rendition of Thunderstruck. Afterwards, a bloke from Iswich bought an album and said it was good to get a mention. Later, as I was clearing away my merch, a shy teenage girl came up and asked for three separate hugs while I maintained a quietly assertive, teacher-like demeanour.
SYDNEY. HOPETOUN HOTEL OCT 22.
Earlier, while having a traditional $5 steak at the Lansdowne Hotel, a girl came up and asked if I was single. She said her and her friend thought I was gorgeous. This never happens, and came just three days into an uncertain haircut. Incidentally, the last fight I got in was at the same hotel, when I accidentally elbowed a guy in the head while hugging a friend. He stood menacingly in the doorway of my taxi and threw a punch while it drove off. Love and hate are so close together! This gig took place on the coldest October day in 65 years, in the middle of uni exams. It was one of those gigs where temperature and audience numbers are the same. (Oh for Mexico). Pterodactyl Man opened. The Sydney indie-rock crowd were so memorised by a middle-aged man in paper mache dinosaur outfit reciting surrealist pun-based haiku over ukulele and ambient loops that they completely forgot to clap at the end! Partner in crime Josh Earl slayed them with his charm-punk and hilarious projections. Darren Hanlon was in the audience. *Justin bends over and picks up dropped name*
By the time I hit the stage I had never felt so aware of having my performance psychologically compromised from the managerial tasks I’d had to carry out leading up to the gig. I stood to the side of the stage while the Wow Wow clip was projected onto the wall, feeling unstable and demoralised. Subsequently, I had one of the more joyless on-stage experiences of recent memory. Having to pull up psuedo-serious tracks such as ‘I’m So Lonely’ and ‘Circus Bear’ as some kind of performance medicine. Just to confirm that nothing was meant to go right that day, a strange Irish man appeared at the side of the stage with a kit bag, produced a set of bongos and proceeded to bang along to my songs. After a few comedically hit-and-miss altercations (including a ‘sleep performing’ how long have I been playing for? routine,) I ended up having to pull the bag away from him like an angry parent. During my last song, ‘My Nan Really Likes Radiohead,’ management tried to eject him and a fist fight broke out. In a silent protest against fate, I froze on the line ‘and my nan cried’ for about ten minutes, with a theatrical finger clinging to my chin to represent a tear drop about to fall. After the scuffle, a respectful round of applause, and some silence, I let my metaphorical finger drop. As the tear trickled over my guitar, my soul fell to the floor, rolled over and stared up at me. I walked away from it, and drifted through a grey kaleidoscope of conversation.
MELBOURNE. NORTHCOTE SOCIAL CLUB. NOV 23.
At 8:45pm I peered through the curtains to see a wee sprinkling of peeps in the large assembly room. I quietly vowed that if my hometown gig tanked, I would take a break from performing and focus on my copy-writing career. After praying to the New Zealand God of alternative folk-based comedy ‘Conchordius’ I was delighted to find a relatively packed crowd of 100 by the time I wandered onto stage. Every single little god-damn thing seemed to go right. My solo set was a mega-hoot, doubling in value because I’d arranged for the show to be filmed. During my band set I found myself making silly guitar mistakes, surprisingly stunned by the stage lights, but I was on such a high that my mood was folk-solid. Making the band work has been a long running challenge, but the symmetry was finally hammered home through a charming piece of happen-chance.
(Flutes McGee does amazing flute solo during Happiest Boy.)
Me: Give it up for Flutes McGee!
(Crowd go wild)
(I continue with song. He throws in some cheeky extra notes.)
Me: Don’t push it Flutes.
Later that night, my house was broken into and I had my iRiver stolen.
Seriously God, if you’re that bored get a girlfriend.
HOBART. BRISBANE HOTEL. NOV 5.
This gig needed a kick in the brain balls. I was apprehensive about what kind of rapport I would find with Hobart’s most notoriously rock’n’roll venue. Brilliant support act Charles Du Cane provided some genuinely original alt-indie tunes and deservedly provided most of the smallish audience. The restless chatter during the screening of ‘Wow Wow’s Song’ tipped me off to a potentially threatening erosion of Philosopher camaraderie. It’s never a healthy sign when I’m opening the show with an impromptu array of ‘shut ups.’ I performed strongly, focussing my energies on the sectors of the audience that boosted my laugh graphs. And despite some poor song choices towards the end which derailed me somewhat it was a generally consistent acoustic hoe-down. During the wind-down drinks I received several forms of second-hand feedback that some people didn’t enjoy me and thought I was terrible. While I understand this was most likely a small section of the crowd, I couldn’t remember experiencing such direct, brazen criticism, especially at my own headlining gig. I was a vulnerable little poppet and it stung. In good news I slept at the hotel and the next afternoon an office supplies store next door was having a ‘thank the customers’ barbecue and I ate a hamburger and even got a free orange juice. Up yours punks.
HOBART. THE LOFT. NOV 6.
I played after an impro comedy night to about 60 people not there to see me and they totally loved it.
HOBART. HOBART BEER FESTIVAL. NOV 8.
I played to a rowdy bunch of folks not there to see me and they got right into it.
HOBART. LEWISHAM TAVERN. NOV 9.
I played in a country bar on a Sunday afternoon to about eighty locals, aged forty and up, who weren’t there to see me. As I stepped up on stage I looked out to a series of grown men with arms crossed and faces grim with expectation. Directly next to the stage, in simulcast with my gig was a beer promotion entailing two blonde girls standing with a tray of beer samples and facilitating a game of Big Jenga. With the confidence of one who feels like they’ve possibly lost everything, I dropped some self-deprecating remarks, said I’d fight them all and managed to completely win them over. At one point I had my own ‘American Beauty plastic bag’ moment, when the beer promotion girl released the clip on a roll up banner, producing the right swishing noise at exactly the right moment during the Happy Cow line ‘I’m in the groove, like a crab, down the luge.’ Afterwards, a guy who used to work in advertising came up and told me he wrote the line ‘life’s pretty straight without twisties.’
LAYTOPING IS MISPELLED, AND FREE! WHAT A GREAT GIFT IDEA, AND IT’LL CUT YOUR ENERGY BILLS IN HALF! SEND IT TO A FRIEND!
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