Thursday, September 09, 2004
You like to say your
Man's a celebrity
Baby what's the deal?
I thought you wanted me for me
- NSync
Sunday night on the ferry there he was dressed in a driza bone. Monday night too, acting the goat with his mates. Tuesday night trying to look cool on the telly. Then last night, there he was standing at the Matterhorn, looking like the man, those black coal stone eyes staring right at me. Freaky stuff, and I don't want to frighten you all, but I have reason to believe that I'm being stalked.
Ho ho, but by who?
Well Frankie, it's none other than Matthew goddamn Ridge.
I've been stalked by celebrities before, I don't say that to boast, and anyway I'm quite cool with it, it's other people who have the problem. Louis Theroux stalked me one afternoon in London and Sophie Ellis Bextor once followed me home singing all the while 'Take Me Home' which I duly did, and, hold on, no I'm making that up. Anyhow, back to Ridgey. I'm not a fan. I liked him as a footy player, he was great, but I do wish he'd now shut the hell up and get off my television screen, and dammit, out of my life.
My job interview at a 'leading tertiary institution' went swimmingly well yesterday. There were three of them, good cop, bad cop and one who looked like Michael Douglas. He said nothing at all but wrote down every killer bee response I made. By the end, why hell, they were all good cops and I was tempted to take 'em out for coffee and doughnuts. But as they say, if you think the interview goes well, then it usually aint, but I find out early next week. Actually it was nice to have a good interview, I've had my share of the bad, including one that I'll never forget where every answer I gave was met with a look of disgust leading me to terminate the interview within 20 minutes using the immortal line
Look, sorry, I don't think this has gone as well as I might have planned.
No, he said, I don't think it has. Interview over. It still gives me nightmares. But now I wonder just what old thick lips Ridge would have done?
Man's a celebrity
Baby what's the deal?
I thought you wanted me for me
- NSync
Sunday night on the ferry there he was dressed in a driza bone. Monday night too, acting the goat with his mates. Tuesday night trying to look cool on the telly. Then last night, there he was standing at the Matterhorn, looking like the man, those black coal stone eyes staring right at me. Freaky stuff, and I don't want to frighten you all, but I have reason to believe that I'm being stalked.
Ho ho, but by who?
Well Frankie, it's none other than Matthew goddamn Ridge.
I've been stalked by celebrities before, I don't say that to boast, and anyway I'm quite cool with it, it's other people who have the problem. Louis Theroux stalked me one afternoon in London and Sophie Ellis Bextor once followed me home singing all the while 'Take Me Home' which I duly did, and, hold on, no I'm making that up. Anyhow, back to Ridgey. I'm not a fan. I liked him as a footy player, he was great, but I do wish he'd now shut the hell up and get off my television screen, and dammit, out of my life.
My job interview at a 'leading tertiary institution' went swimmingly well yesterday. There were three of them, good cop, bad cop and one who looked like Michael Douglas. He said nothing at all but wrote down every killer bee response I made. By the end, why hell, they were all good cops and I was tempted to take 'em out for coffee and doughnuts. But as they say, if you think the interview goes well, then it usually aint, but I find out early next week. Actually it was nice to have a good interview, I've had my share of the bad, including one that I'll never forget where every answer I gave was met with a look of disgust leading me to terminate the interview within 20 minutes using the immortal line
Look, sorry, I don't think this has gone as well as I might have planned.
No, he said, I don't think it has. Interview over. It still gives me nightmares. But now I wonder just what old thick lips Ridge would have done?
