Idol ruminations – big band night

So it was big band night.
Carl Crooner Riseley came out swingin’ and I was heard saying ‘you know what, this guy may very well take it out this year’.
But that said, I think he performed well but it wasn’t of blown-away calibre.
AND what is with all the guys doing this weird hand movement that the rest of us use when denoting a woman with big jugs?



Animal was appalling. He’ll probably be in the final two.




The guy can sing but his performances were really underwhelming tonight. He has this arrogant swagger about him that is going to lose him votes fast.




TiNatalie Gauci-Arena came out as a bumble bee and had that earnestness about her that is really really irritating. You know what I mean, when they do the wide-eyed thing that is meant to mean they really mean what they’re singing but merely translates to ‘is it over yet?’ That said, man can she sing and she did big band really really well. It was almost Bette Midler calibre and I never ever would have pitted her there. The second song was SO.MUCH.BETTER (as was the outfit) and I have a feeling the final two may be her and Carl.

I know!

In other weekend news:

– the two bigger boys went to my Dad and SM’s and had a lovely time. I just chilled with the two little guys yesterday and marvelled at how freakin’ easy it is when you halve your parenting, particularly when you’re left with the two where one is happy with a bowl of risoni tossed in extra virgin olive oil, parmesan cheese, salt and pepper for dinner and the other one is still solely breastfed.

– Speaking of the littlest guy, he was four months on Friday (I KNOW) and look at where we’re at already:
That’s right. We’ve mastered rolling so we’re straight into crawling. We’re up on all fours and we’re pulling legs forward in alternate movements. We’re FREAKING ME OUT.

– Because I only had the two of them, yesterday I decided to brave the SMH Pyrmont Growers Markets for the first time in about three years. The last time I went it was so crowded with latte swilling silverbacks from the Eastern suburbs and diligent basket weavers from the inner west I could almost feel myself morphing into a Jewish princess and a Buddhist Greens voter all at the same time. I don’t do crowds well and that was one crowd best left to themselves.

So naturally when I had a weird notion of free time I headed straight back there. We were in the car by 7.40am. It was raining. I did fleetingly think ‘what are you doing?’ but just pushed it to the side when the thought of being at home all day with the little guys buzzed up in neons as the alternative. And look, it was OK. It drizzled the entire time but I think this kept the crowd to a bearable size. Jasper (who I woke up to go on this adventure!) was in perhaps the best mood he’d been in for oh, the previous 36 hours as he is still by and large the happiest kid in the world. But people, he just loved the whole novelty. In his pram! out with mum and the baybeeeee! in the rain! all these people! something else yummy thrust into my hand! He sang little songs to himself and whoever was standing around him when I’d just abandon him slightly away from a stall so as not to cause crowd carnage the entire time. I walked away with:
– magnificent pork products from artisan breeders of a rare pig breed including a rolled de-boned shoulder, some shoulder chops and pork and fennel sausages (which were sublime)
– saltbush lamb backstraps and easy carve lamb leg
– stunning goats cheese rolled in ash and curd
– luscious fresh produce including beetroot for a relish, rhubarb for my favourit compote de jour, baby fennel and leeks that went into a lovely light spring vegetable soup I made yesterday afternoon which also marked the first time I’ve cooked with saffron and people it actually did add a complexity and depth of flavour I always thought was a complete wank when I heard all these tv chefs going on about it and some more mesclun
– dainty sweet Portuguese custard tarts (which Jasper ate. With his finger digging the custard out. Leaving the pastry, which I figure is the best bit, being a pastry chick and all) and a lemon tart for me and an apricot one for mum
– a loaf of Sonoma’s infamous roast garlic bread
– litres and litres of unhomogenised milk direct from the dairy, which Chef is going gaga over. I drink grey water skim and don’t really do dairy unless it’s custard or cream served with cake so the whole ‘you can really taste the difference’ is totally wasted on me.
Loot indeed.


Today featured the almost two hour drive to my Dad and SM’s to pick up the boys. A good run there. Then Grover fussed the entire visit and did some really impressive cottage cheese chunders all over me.

Then Jasper had the biggest tantrum meltdown brain freeze in quite some time and screamed and yelled and cried for over half and hour and did two poos during the visit. So he really did have the shits. BOOM TISH!

It’s always challenging because they own three dogs who are their children but who only tolerate children at best and one of them – the little one resembling a rat and which I have to almost restrain my legs so as not to intentionally see how far I could kick it – would actively seek out and bite/nip/attack you so I don’t really relax with the two littlest of our guys – nor can I put Grover down (I forgot to take his play rug) as there are dogs and or their hair everywhere.

And then Grover basically screamed the entire trip home.

For almost two hours.

And everytime he’d stop Jasper would yell sing and it’d all start up again.


Go sell some medicine bitches…

And in other news, as some dreadful oversight, I seemed to have forgotten to blog on Monday night about the Idol Ousting. So, rather belatedly…

My Sunday night betting on the bottom three was that it’d be Tarisai Bratz Vushe, Marty Animal Simpson and Carl Crooner Risely. Interestingly it appears the world has finally caught on that TiNatalie Gauci-Arena is just going to be the fodder that is Tina, Kate Cebrano and it appears Katie Noonan. All women with awesome voices but just incredibly bad at song and ultimately career choices so they’re left wandering the wilderness that is being popular in Japan. Cough.

Tarisai Bratze Vushe is gawn thank you Lord Geesuz. Her deathknell was clanging when she said ‘I don’t want to offend you but I’m really sorry but I’m not fake’ for the eleventy gagillionth time.




And here is the weirdest top 4 since oh, 2006:
Carl Crooner Riseley, surely the next to go






TiNatalie Gauci-Arena, the woman insists on wearing leggins and used a staircase to stand on top of the piano. Her time is nigh




Matt I love me some hairwax Corby is going to win and everyone knows it so hard they’ll all stop voting thus causing the biggest upset since oh, 2006



Marty Animal I channel Jack Johnson and really want to be John Butler Simpson

Idol ruminations – seventh final

I don’t know what the theme is this week but they seem to have unleashed Mark Holden on the contestants this week. God help them one and all.

Matt Corby‘s first song was lovely but predictable. And Mark H, in a rare moment of clarity, was on the mark when he said that Matt needs to look up from the keyboard – I was only just thinking that through the whole performance last week.

OH FOR THE LOVE OF COMMON SENSE, TiNatalie Gauci-Arena is wearing leggings. LEGGINGS. But man, she was challenging some cranky hell hath no fury vibe. The standing on the piano was lame and only served to heighten the “she’s wearing LEGGINGS”

OH FOR THE LOVE OF A HIGHER BEING, Mark’s crying in the back story for Marty. GGGEEEEESSUUUUZ. Marty Simpson is singing Powderfinger and suddenly I get the feeling that perhaps this guy, the reluctant contestant, is going to be on centre stage at the Opera House. That or just as he’s finally getting it he’ll be ousted.

I know I’ve said it before, but it’s disturbing how much I’m liking Kyle and Dicko during this series.

Tarisai – an angry Bratz doll – hehehe. At least the disco wig has gone.

Carl sang another crooner which was fine. Has he dyed his hair?

Wait. That’s it? WTF?

Bloody ARIAs.

Idol ruminations – seventh final ousting

Well if all the rumours about Hillsong fixing are true, thank the LORD and good bye Daniel Misfud.


It’s a crime this guy lasted this long. He should have gone two weeks ago. As Mark Holden, in a rare moment of clarity, said last night, you want to sing these types of songs but they’re out of your league/capability.

So pack up your scarves and your coiffed do and be gone.

In other news… Matt Matt Matt – what was that shirt you were wearing tonight? Even Felix said, “Matt’s wearing a girls dress”.
TiNatalie was in some porn outfit.
Tarisai is still wearing the disco wig.
Marty looked positively normal. And Clean.
As did Carl.
So I guess two out of five ain’t bad, but seriously,

Idol ruminations – seventh final, judges choice and own choice

Well well well, what a difference a week makes.
This week the show was firing on all cylinders. It was everything you want your pop culture ‘that show will rot your brain’ television to be.
A few things first though.
1. Mark Holden is so EFFING annoying I just want to hurt him. The man is a complete and utter goose and an irritating one at that.
2. I am now just annoyed Daniel Misfud is still here. This week clearly showed that everyone else has shifted gear and moved into a new league (one a little closer to that Matt Corby has been in since the beginning) that he is just not capable of.
3. Open letter to wardrobe: WTF???? There were so many tragedies tonight I thought we were in Greece.
4. I find it amazing how much I am enjoying – and agreeing – with Kyle Sandilands this year. I didn’t watch the show when he came onboard, not because of that fact but am now wishing I’d tuned in. Mind you, I don’t love him that much to listen to 2DayFM.

OK. So, the performances.
Tarisai Vushe. Still sporting the pigs fighting under a blanket jeans, she sang a Barry White tune and nailed it, then sang a Whitney song and, well, m’eh.

Daniel Misfud. As I said, this week showed he is just out of his league. After they showed the “let’s take the contestants home for a day” it all made perfect sense. Do us all a favour and stick to teaching dude. Or should I say, the original Mr G.

Carl Riseley. OH MY GOODNESS. I’m not sure what has happened from last week to this week, but he stepped up onto the stage and stepped on up. He was rockin’ and did an awesome job of it. He sung Tom Jones and did it with humour and a crinkle of the forehead to indeed make him the houeswives’ crumpet.

Marty Simpson. See what I wrote about Carl and ditto. What’s not to like about reggae? I mean really, it makes you feel sunny and that holidays sitting in a wet bar at some resort somewhere is only a heart beat away. But he was chillin’ tonight and it was very watchable.

Matt Corby is a freakin’ legend. He is in a league all of his own and while last week I was feeling all “we’re just getting was the same old same old”, that was still pretty darn sensational. This week he sang something from The Phantom of the Opera (see point number one above. It was his suggestion. WT?) which brought back unhappy memories of Cosette and then something from someone I’ve never heard before. And apart from wishing he’d look up during the last one (he was playing piano) it was all FREAKING sensational.

OK OK, it pains me to say it and it pains me even more considering during the first song she wore white.patterned.leggins. (see point No.3) but TiNatalie GauciArena was on fire tonight. She sang that Sinead O’Connor song and the umbrella song and nailed them both.

My guess on the bottom three: Daniel, Marty and Tarisai.