Mr Pricasso v porn stars at Sexpo

After all these years, consumer behaviour still manages to fascinate and surprise me.


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My passion has taken me to many unlikely places, and introduced me to a myriad of people, who, if left to my own devices I would never have had the pleasure of meeting.  From CEO's to multidrug users and everyone in between I've been extremely fortunate. And so this weekend provided an opportunity to delve into another section of society at the Perth Sexpo.



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Arriving at the show on Sunday I already felt sinful turning my back on a beautiful crisp, blue skied Perth morning to enter the dimly lite Perth Convention Centre. Still I pushed on.


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Once inside my path was instantly stopped by a large walking penis and pair of breasts, mascots for the show.

Clearly I wasn't at a CWA meeting. 

Talking to one of the people involved, there had already been 4,600 cars arrive that morning, which meant blending in was a case of going wherever the crowd took you, rather than trying to find a place to hide. 

'At $25 a ticket, more for the VIP tickets, if each car has 3 people in it that's....well it's a lot isn't it? the organizer informed me.

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I had to agree that was a lot, especially when multiplied by three days.



Three hours spent watching the crowd was fascinating, once again showing that, try as we might not all consumer behaviour can be predicted.

Take for example the two buxom international porn stars flown in for the occasion. There they sat on a huge stage with not one person waiting in line to see them.

Given this situation what's a porn star to do?

World Premier Tim Ferguson Cane and Able

Watching Tim Ferguson return to the stage for the world premier of Cane and Able, four words came to mind - laughter, luck, friendship and courage.


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Absent from the stage for a few years Tim had a lot to get off his chest, and seemed in a hurry to do so. 

One third of the highly successful Doug Anthony All Stars, he began the evening by describing himself as an aged Justin Beiber,and it was clear from the outset that his time away had dulled none of his wit or comedic timing. Neither had it diminished his political incorrectness, with the audience oscillating between laughter and gasps that masked thoughts of ...'oh no he didn't'.

Beginning with a behind the scenes look at the All Stars as they took over the world of comedy, it was fascinating to hear about their living arrangements, how they conquered the hostile crowds at The Bear Pit in a uniquely Australian way (by singing the national anthem), and the long, long hours involved.


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Harking back to those days, it wasn't long before he was making fun at the expense of his old partners, Paul, 'the short one' and 'the other one' (Richard).

After the All Stars Tim made game show Don't Forget Your Toothbrush and then spent three years at Channel 9 writing 13 pilots.




This recollection prompted a fascinating, brutally honest, warts and all view of the inner workings of Channel 9, including the treatment of Mick Molloy, Shaun Micallef, Rove and most recently Ben Elton.

Rather than continuing to reshape his 'round peg into their square hole', Tim is back on stage, touring the world, writing and teaching stand up comedy through his course Cheeky Monkey Comedy Writing.

As he walked off stage the giggling faded and I was left pondering four words:

1. Friendship. Having finally told his All Star partners about his growing health issue, their reaction was a beautiful display of mateship. Not only did they keep his secret, they put their own public images on the line to do so. Publicly the group started a rumour about a rift within the trio, and maintained this as the reason for the split rather than Tim's health.
2. Courage. Watching Tim stand for an hour and deliver his stream of consciousness without missing a beat, it's easy to forget he's battling a major health issue (MS). It was only when he moved off his mark, and later on when he left the stage, that we were reminded his left side doesn't always come to the party. Talking to some of the staff afterwards we agreed it was not only a show about comedy, but also immense courage.
3. Luck. While Tim says he is 'one of the lucky ones', I think any of the students attending his standup course Cheeky Monkey, are the lucky one. Yes they'll learn about comedy writing and stand up, but I'm sure they'll also be learning some valuable life lessons. like strength and determination.
4. Laughter. If laughter is the best medicine I hope at least a smidgen of the laughter Tim sent out into the audience, bounces back to engulf him.

Two words women don't want to hear

This was first posted on wellnesswa.com.au 

Footnote: Hopefully Googles bad hair day is over and the formating of this post will be correct now. Apologies to those who have already read this and are receiving it again in the RSS feed.

I'm pregnant!!

Don't get me wrong we love hearing them from a friend, then it's all shrieks, hugs and tears.
But there's one person we simply do not want to hear it from, and I'm pretty sure I can speak for the whole sisterhood here.....your hairdresser.

Years of unflattering cuts, tragic colours, and massively botched home attempts, litter a right of passage to be endured until you find, THE ONE.

thanks to qwrrty



So when your hairdresser enthusiastically declares her impending motherhood, I fully understand that it takes all your strength not to pick up the buzz razor and fasion a reverse Mohawk through the centre of her perfectly sculpted bob.

thanks to MNicoleM

Word of warning....

If you're a hairdresser about to make a life changing announcement, please, please don't be offended if your clients don't share your enthusiasm.  It's just we know our life is about to become ruled by our fickle follicles ...again.



thanks to simon_redwood



For a while I thought I'd found the answer in a 40-something stylist however she too disappeared into oblivion. And so I found myself skulking back to a major corporate salon I'd used in the nineties (Maurice Mead in Subiaco).

Perhaps it was a case of absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I was thrilled with the service I received on my return. Not only were the magazines post World War II, I was given a cup of tea and placed in front of a television showing the latest Paris fashions, then given a head massage to die for.

The act of hair washing reached a whole new level when, lying back in the black leather vibrating massage chair, the apprentice worked his magic for a good 15 minutes, all the while checking on my personal level of pressure, bliss.

Numb beyond belief I watched on as my stylist, Ailsa, retrieved my card and identified the colours that had worked best for me in the past, then listened, really listened to what I wanted. Not only that, she checked regularly to make sure I was happy with her progress. Unbelievable!!

As I left the salon relaxed and feeling very special I pondered: 

1. How on earth could I have cheated on them in the first place?
2. While this salon was a lot dearer than my previous stylist, I’d almost pay double just for the head massage, but don’t tell them that.

Sometimes I worry about the future of the species (USA Breakdancers)

Sometimes I fear for the future of civilization, like recently during the 2011 Fremantle Street Theatre Festival.

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Visiting former street performer world champions, and NBA halftime shop stoppers, The USA Breakdancers, began their act with the obligatory crowd warming audience participation segment.

On this occasion four dads, of varying hairline and girth, ventured into the high-energy cool world of street dance, brandishing equal parts enthusiasm and bravado.

© The Ponder Room

Only to schlep off stage fifteen minutes later, drenched in reality and humiliation, perfectly primed for office ridicule come Monday morning.

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Next ten small kids were called up and set a challenge to show their moves.

One by one as they strut their stuff my concerns grew.




Watching on I was instantly transported back several years to similar displays usually witnessed near closing time at the University tavern. Back then amber fueled male students, usually engineers, would perform ‘The Dead Ant’, by bouncing on their backs, both feet in the air.

To the best of my knowledge these displays never led to any of the ‘ants’ leaving with a female companion, well not any of my female friends anyway, and yet they persisted. Instead the gesture usually ended with much back slapping and guffawing by other male ants.

© The Ponder Room

Returning to present day, I watched on as each small child dropped to the floor and twirled on their back, legs in the air emulating Justice Crew, or some other ‘hood’ inspired dance crew.

Try as I might I couldn’t stop projecting forward ten years when the same little boys would be forging into a very different type of hood. Prior to adulthood they’d have to navigate their way through teenage-hood, all gangly arms and legs, pimply faces, and wavering voices.

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Visions flashed before me of each one approaching the girl of his desire, asking her to dance, slouching off to the dance floor, then him dropping to the floor while the girl looks on in rapture. The bridal waltz doesn’t bare thinking about.

As my concerns grew I found myself pondering:

1. Given that seven of the ten little performers were under 5 years of age, was I witnessing an example of nature or nuture?
2. Should I keep this behavioural insight to myself, and apply for a large research grant that would eventually see my name cemented in the vast catalogue of nature/nurture journals.
3. Thinking back, I guess the vast majority of those engineering students did actually manage to find someone to procreate with.....no really, all but one did.
4. Actually a few of them now hold down highly paid, crucial jobs in Town Planning departments, and are responsible for the roads we drive on, the bridges we cross and the buildings we enter each day. Maybe all that head spinning increased blood flow to some critical parts of the brain….nah.... more likely the lack of distractions from the opposite sex gave them more time to study.

 Perhaps there is hope after all...keep spinning kids.

A wave's as good as a nod when driving (Mothers Day)

Saturday morning, the day before Mothers Day and the roads are chock full of offspring. The golden child, the black sheep, the time poor, and the forgetful, all merge into one heaving vehicular mass of desperation searching for the perfect gift. 

Having shopped the day before, a cold chill ran through me as I realised I’d run out of an essential ingredient for my Mothers Day lunch, and would have to venture out in to the throng.

Thanks to thienzieyung

Fifteen minutes down the road I’d joined the quest, along with the obligatory queue at a notoriously slow set of traffic lights, made even slower by the addition of road works. I settled into my position as car number 18.

Humming away to the radio it was soon my turn to make the challenging decision of whether to follow the car ahead and keep the automotive conga line nose to nose, or hang back and break the chain. If I hung back it would allow cars on the other side of the road to turn right in front of me and into the massive hardware store car park. Sensing desperation in the air, I decided to be benevolent and left a sizeable space between me and the car in front. As a result I was rewarded with another insightful glimpse into the human psyche.

One by one I watched as 32 cars made the right hand turn in front of me. This in itself wasn’t surprising as it’s an extremely popular hardware store, and the addition of a sausage sizzle had turned it into a Saturday morning pilgrimage.

Out of the 32 cars passing by how many do you think gave me a little wave of thanks?

Guaranteed strategy to access popular gym equipment

If you’ve ever been a member of a busy gym, especially a serious one frequented by ‘Grunt Brothers’, you’ll know how hard it can be to get onto the gym equipment, particularly the abdominal machines and bench-presses. Strangely not so for the calf raise machines which are frequently free, but I digress.

Before I reveal the secret I guess I should explain the ‘Grunt Brothers’ incase you haven’t come across them. Here’s a brief description………….

Thanks to jontunn

They travel in pairs or on the odd occasion triplets, but rarely quads.
Can often be found overloading the bar in an attempt to impress each other.
Then instantly faced with the realization that they wont be able to lift the stacked bar, they swing it into place relying on their already overstrained lower back muscles.
Throughout the lifting motion they emit cries usually confined to the toilet block out the back of the Ring of Fire Café, the local mega hot Indian curry house. I believe it was once reported that the straining noises were so loud that they woke a group of dozing proctologists, who rose as one and automatically click open their iPhone calendars in readiness for calls about emergency hemorrhoid operations.
 

Thanks to jontunn



I've also heard that if a Grunt Brother is on his own he might let you work in with him, however this is very rare, on most occasions you just have to wait around until all three brothers have finished. This usually includes a decent amount of time watching them chat, or pick at steroid induced shoulder pimples between sets.

Well yesterday I stumbled across a guaranteed solution.





Step 1: Hover near the machine you want.
Step 2: Keep a close eye on the television screens dotted around the gym
Step 3: Wait for a music video to appear that contains, at least two of the following:

1. A group of girls in black underwear
2. A group of girls in white underwear
3. A soccer ball and net
4. A soccer ground that seems to consist of 90% mud
5. The two teams start to play soccer.
6. Unfortunately lacking skills the girls instantly find themselves falling to the ground, and in the process get covered in mud

Step 4: Walk around the gym using any and all of the now vacant equipment, sidestepping the packs of mesmerized Grunt Brothers.

Thanks to daryl sim

If you’re extremely lucky, like I was, the clip will contain all four elements, I kid you not. On such an occasion you’ll have the entire weights floor to yourself. The Grunt Brothers wont even notice you hoping on and off the machines. 

The only thing left to do is…..

1. Move quickly, the song will only last for 7 minutes at most.
2. When it’s over sit back and watch as the first Grunt Brother returns to training. Not realising that you’ve reduced the machine to a more realistic setting he’ll employ the same force to lift the bar.
3. Remember to duck as the weights area becomes littered with flying bars and dumbbells, projected by what could become known as the Slingshot Lift.
4. Should the song be followed by a Justin Bieber melody, pack up your things and go home now, there’s no way you’ll get onto the machines again. 
5. However on the way out tell the receptionist that you find the female soccer video particularly motivating and would like it to be repeated, soon and often, or better still put on a loop whenever you come in. 
6. Driving home ponder how that soccer grounds keeper manages to keep his job when he so obviously lacks the prerequisite horticultural skills to maintain a single patch of grass.