Australia has voted...

...and our new Australian Idol is Natalie Gauci! Watched a bit of Australian Idol since I got here, and it's been the source of much amusement. Pretty much a carbon copy of the American version, although instead of one smarmy host, they have two. And instead of three judges of varying temperaments, they have four.

Most of the pleasure I've derived from watching has stemmed from the multitude of people on the show who have pretty obvious American doppelgangers. Seriously, of the two hosts and four judges, I see legitimate (and often scary) American resemblances to five of them. First, there's James Mathison, one of the two hosts, who looks like a dorky version of Jimmy Fallon. (If it's possible to be even dorkier than Jimmy Fallon.) Then there's Andrew G, the other host, who bears an eerie resemblance to Seann William Scott, aka Stifler. G -- guess he's related to Kenny (HA HA HAAAAA!!) -- has been growing a moustache this month for Movember, which has only made him look more like Scott's white trash/tranquilizer gun character from Old School. Of the judges, there's Dicko, who might as well be the twin of another SNL alum, Daryl Hammond. Mark Holden and Kyle Sandilands are not only Mark Hamill and Kiefer Sutherland, respectively, but they even share the same initials! And Marcia Hines... well, I can't exactly place her. But there's something there. Anyone have any thoughts?

All in all, it's made for quite enjoyable entertainment.

Oh yeah, there was another vote here this weekend. Australia has a new Prime Minister! And may I say, what a novel concept to have an election on a Saturday! An election during a time when it's easier for people to exercise their right to vote? Mind-blowing! The only logical reason for why the US doesn't do this is that the government just doesn't want to open for a whole extra day.

Anyway, it's out with John Howard, the second-longest tenured and arguably most successful Prime Minister in Australian history, and in with Kevin Rudd, a man whose creepiness can't be fully appreciated until you've seen his big shiny face plastered on every billboard and sign with the same vanilla smirk for six weeks. (I defy you to stare at the picture on the left for more than ten seconds. Go on, give it a try. It's impossible to not let it freak you out.) All in all, it's a big win for the Labor party here, which leans towards the liberal side. (That, of course, shouldn't be confused with the John Howard's Liberal party, which leans towards the conservative side. I know. Go figure.) And with Australia in the midst of a long-running and unprecedented state of growth, it will be interesting to see how this all pans out.

The search continues

But no longer for the pumpkin puree. Fortunately, Katie (my American friend here) found some at USA Foods and has ordered enough for each of us to cook our own pies. Her pies will be edible. Mine? TBD. But at least it will contain puree! This is certainly a bonus, because from what I've learned over the last few days, that ingredient is somewhat essential to make pumpkin pie and will thusly increase the edibility factor at least two-fold. And in case I ever get a craving for some Folgers Classic that has been packaged in the US (because God forbid I purchase Folgers Classic that's packaged in Australia), now I know where to go.

Unfortunately, the ingredient that's now eluding me are pie shells. (Also fairly important to the creation of a pie, as I've learned.) You wouldn't think that would be too hard to track down, but I'm having more trouble than anticipated. You see, Aussies seem to like to use the same word for many different things. For example, if you were to talk about "football" or "footy" with an Aussie, that could mean one of five things (and I feel like I'm forgetting even more): Rugby Union, Rugby League, Australian Rules Football, American football or soccer. (Soccer used to be known as soccer here, but as of recently, they've inexplicably decided to start to call it football. You know, just to make things even more hopelessly confusing.)

Anyway, this is a longwinded way of saying that I've run into the same trouble with pies. Because beyond your basic pie with a fruit filling, "pie" is also used to refer to meat pies or pizza. And they don't seem to like to make shells for my most basic of pies. The confusion!

All this said, I'm still confident that I'll be able to track said pie shells down by Saturday. And if not, I guess I'll just avoid this dinner and not return any of Katie's phone calls. I'm sure she won't mind. Good times.

Have a great Thanksgiving everyone.

Throwin' some Salty Chocolate Kleinballs

Why is South Park not regarded as one of the greatest TV shows of the last decade? It's leaps and bounds better than anything else out there (animated or not), and that's 100% because of Matt Stone and Trey Parker. When you have two guys that (a) have incredibly demented senses of humor, (b) don't give a shit about who they insult and (c) can throw an episode together in two seconds so the shows are ridiculously timely, it's a perfect storm. Then how come it never gets the credit it deserves? I don't have an answer to this, and really, beyond the fact that I needed some way to segue between the title of this blog to the rest of this post, this has nothing to do with anything. But it's true.

The last week or two, I've been on the search for pumpkin puree. You see, an American friend of mine here is hosting a Thanksgiving dinner next week and I've offered to make pumpkin pie. Why would I offer to make pumpkin pie when (a) I've never made a pie -- let alone a pumpkin pie -- in my life, (b) don't have all of the necessary equipment and (c) have an oven that's been nicknamed Old Unfaithful? Honestly, I have no good answer for this. But I've made a commitment and now I'm screwed. Because I can't for the life of me find pumpkin puree in Sydney. No one has it. And I'm not about to puree a pumpkin. This can't end well.

For those who missed it, yesterday -- actually, it would still be today in the US -- was Steve Irwin Day. Let's never forget.

On top of all of the Steve Irwin tributes, yesterday -- err, today -- was also a big day for me because I received my first pay check in three months! What a novel and thrilling concept for money to be place into my account instead of helplessly watching my balance slowly waste away.

Lately, I've been struggling to come up with things to write about, so that only can mean one thing: ROAD TRIP!! That's right, starting this month (or maybe next), I've made a resolution to take at least one weekend trip a month. So that will give me a total of, uhhhh, one more thing to write about every month. Problem solved.

'Roos Gone Wild!

Australians think it's hilarious that many Americans believe that kangaroos are everywhere in Australia, just hopping around city streets all willy nilly. I can confirm that this just doesn't happen. Except for yesterday:



Oh yeah, I guess there was this one, too:

Coming around on the cricket

It was inevitable to some degree, I guess, and it's happening. Albeit very slowly.

On Saturday morning, I got my first real taste of playing cricket when some friends and I went to a net session, which is basically cricket's version of batting cages. However, instead of having a machine pitch to you, we bowled (aka, pitched) to each other. And it was fun. I sucked for the most part, yes, but I had a pretty good time. And now I have a nice sunburn and an incredibly sore back to show for it.

After the net session, we went back to some friends' place and watched the current cricket test match between Australia and Sri Lanka. This was one of those five-day matches that tests your patience as a human being. But alcohol, the solution to (and cause of) most of the world's problems, was quickly introduced and it turned into a grand ol' time. Yes, our attention quite often wavered from the cricket, but from what I've been gathering, that's part of the experience. In fact, a coworker described a quintessential Australian childhood experience to me as having your Dad parked in front of the TV for an entire weekend, lazily watching the cricket and going in and out of consciousness as he struggled to stay awake. For no one is actually expected to hang on every single ball of the match; that would just be lunacy. Instead, you just let the cricket exist in the background, drink yourself silly, and if something actually happens in the match (this might occur three or four times an hour), you glance over, comment about the play, and get back to your drinking.

Now that's something I can get used to. And I think I will.

Watching horses for the sake of watching horses

The Melbourne Cup was run on Tuesday, and in Australia, unless you live in the outback and your only companion is your pet dingo, everyone was all too aware of this. Since I arrived here in the middle of September, I’ve been seeing ads for Melbourne Cup Day brunches, Melbourne Cup Day bar specials, Melbourne Cup Day outfits and Melbourne Cup Day Steve Irwin bobble head dolls. That was eight weeks ago. And finally, mercifully, on Tuesday, it happened.

What happened, you ask? Well, there was a horserace. And it was huge. Everyone in Melbourne got the day off. In Sydney, from 1pm to 3:30pm, work came to a halt. We had a company lunch. There was free beer and champagne. For others, they simply took the day off. In the streets, men wore their Sunday best and women wore dresses and crazy hats. People poured into bars. They entered into Melbourne Cup sweeps, where you pay a flat fee and pick a horse out of a bag. If your horse wins, you win the pot. And all of it, it was exciting.

Why, exactly, was it exciting?

Ummmm, yeeeeaaaaahhhh... Three days later and I’m still not sure. Because the second I began asking questions, there were no answers. Who’s in the race? Very few people could name more than a horse or two. What’s the purse for the race? No one knew. Do you ever go to the races? No, not really. What kind of bets do you like to place? (Blank stare.) Then why in God’s name is this such a big deal? The most common answer? “Because it is.”

My suspicion is that a lot of this has to do with Australia's lineage with England, which is a whole different subject. Did you know that the Queen technically still rules Australia? That if she felt like it she could dissolve the government and take over? This really complicates the Anglo-Aussie dynamic and makes it a little confusing to the outsider. But for the purposes of my argument here, suffice it to say that things are often done here because they are (or were) done in England. Hence the "Because it is" response to my query about why the Melbourne Cup is such a big deal.

Anyway, the race was run and a horse won. And within two hours of the completion of the race, I had already forgotten what the name of that horse was. And I’m willing to bet that 80% of the Australian population doesn’t have a clue either. But it was fun, so there's that.

Throwin' Kleinballs: World Series, friendliness, electrocution and erectile dysfunction

I was asked for a World Series preview in a comment from a few posts ago, so here it is: Sox in four. HAR HAR HAR! But really, what a great run. Nothing will ever top 2004, and watching them clinch the World Series in a roomful of apathetic Aussies wasn't exactly as exciting as perhaps it could have been, but that didn't stop me from walking around for the rest of the day with a huge grin on my face. And not to gloat, but I went a perfect 7-for-7 in picking the winners of each of the series before the playoffs began.

It's a little thing, but I am constantly amazed that people thank bus drivers as they exit buses here. And it's not a mumbled "thank you" as they walk by the driver on the way out; it's a full on "Thank you!" as they exit from the back of the bus. So friendly!

As a counter to this friendliness, here's a quote from the paper the other day, in a section where people can text in random gripes: "To the girl in the pink socks who farted in my face going up Town Hall stairs – you don't smell as sweet as you look."

Around 1am last Thursday night, I walked up to a bar with a friend. Before we even said a word to the bouncer, he says, "Sorry boys, can't let you in tonight." When we inquired why, he says, "You've clearly had too much to drink." Now yes, we had had a few. But were we visibly intoxicated, falling all over ourselves and being obnoxious? Not even close. I asked, "So you can tell we're that drunk just by looking at us?" "Yes." Yeeeaaaahhhhh, not sure how to argue that one.

Was pregaming at a friend's place on Saturday night, and played this game. One of the most entertaining, frightening and tense things I've ever done. I highly recommend it.

There are some great ads here, and my favorite by far is the below ad for erectile dysfunction. Have a look, but imagine you're watching this without knowing what it's for. Because when I first saw this, I was bewildered right until the very end, when it made all too much sense.



For those keeping track in the US, we moved the clocks forward an hour last weekend. Once the US moves clocks back an hour this weekend, it'll complete a two-hour swing. So Sydney will be 16 hours ahead of the East Coast and 19 hours ahead of the West.

Two of my passions

Love of Robert Goulet and hatred of A-Rod. With Goulet’s passing and A-Rod’s filing for free agency occurring in the same week, these are two excellent links on both.

Goulet went down with his cords intact. RIP, Bob.

will ferrell extra robert goulet on conan

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