2001-07-26
Dear Diary:

If you had told me before last night that a man could transform his dangly bits into a convincing replica of the Loch Ness Monster my reaction would have been a resounding, "No way!"

Um ...

Er ...

Ah ...

Way. If all Aussies are um, er, ah equipped like these guys the ladies of that country are a lucky bunch, indeed, eh.

And thanks to having seen "Puppetry of the Penis" last night, (which is billed as the ancient Australian art of genital origami) I'm afraid I will never look at origami in quite the same way.

These guys are hilarious. After some very funny patter to relax the audience, they flung off their capes and stood there wearing nothing but their socks, sneakers and very big grins. They begin where The Full Monty leaves off.

There was a camera man and a large screen behind them so we could see all the tricks up close and extremely personal. So personal in fact that when one of them turned his tackle into a hamburger, we could see what he meant when he said that he could even reproduce the sesame seeds on the buns.

.:cough:.

I have to admit that for the first few tricks I was semi shell-shocked. I mean, I KNEW I was going to watch nekkid Aussies play with The Land Down Under, but there's a big gap between knowing you're going to see something and then actually seeing it.

Yes, we were looking at male sex organs in almost microscopic detail. Yes, some of the jokes were about sex. But even you know what? The show wasn't coming from a sexual place at all.

Remember when you were little and you used to wash your hair in the bathtub? Remember the goofy fun you used to have pressing your hair into silly shapes? Well, that's the place this show comes from.

Only instead of shaping hair, two very charming and funny men shaped their You Know Whats into kangaroos, windsurfers, turtles even the FREAKIN' EIFFEL TOWER!

I NEVER would have guessed the endless possibilities, eh.

I have whined before about the difficulty of trying to urinate into containers without a penis. NOW I have seen that not only are penises handy, they are also way, way too much fun.

Speaking as a penisless person, I have to say I feel It Isn't Fair.

Oh yeah, before I forget ... a note to any woman going to the show Who Does Not Want To Know Way, Way Too Much About A Man She's Barely Met: do NOT, I repeat, do NOT mention that it's your birthday when the audience participation part of the show comes up.

If you do, you'll find yourself up on stage with a naked Aussie standing on his head in front of you while you grasp his legs by the ankles and hold them open for him so you can help him imitate a fruit bat.

Oh my, yes.

When this happens, it appears there's only one place to look, and that would be straight ahead through said legs.

I know, because a middle-aged woman called Cathy who attended last night's performance has a Polariod of herself doing just that, courtesy of the puppeteers.

I'm guessing that's one picture that doesn't make it into the family album, eh.

--Marn

Old Drivel - New Drivel


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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2000, 2001, 2002 Marn. This is me, dagnabbit. You be you.