~~~The Realm of the Palace Princess~~~

About Me

Read about me ... for those of you who don't already know me!


The Bladder
Dark Horizons
Oz Pagan
So Shoot Me!

Blogs I Read

War Info Links
The PM's Blog
Iron Monkey
AFL Blog
Cry Like A Girl
Home Blown
Cynical Optimist

What I'm Reading

Life On Air-David Attenborough
A Dagg At My Table-John Clarke

What I'm Listening To

John Mayer-Heavier Things
The Waifs-Up All Night
Dido-Life For Rent

Words of Wisdom

"The spirit is most often free when the body is satiated with pleasure, indeed, sometimes the stars shine more brightly seen from the gutter than from the hilltop"-
W. Somerset Maugham

Classic Songs

Split Screen Sadness...And I don't know where you went when you left me but Says here in the water you must be gone by now I can tell somehow One hand on the trigger of a telephone Wondering when the call comes Where you say it's alright You got your heart right Maybe I'll sleep inside my coat and Wait on the porch 'til you come back home Oh, right I can't find a flight We share the sadness Split screen sadness Two wrongs make it all alright tonight All you need is love is a lie cause We had love but we still said goodbye Now we're tired, battered fighters And it stings when it's nobody's fault Cause there's nothing to blame at the drop of your name It's only the air you took and the breath you left Maybe I'll sleep inside my coat and Wait on the porch 'til you come back home Oh, right I can't find a flight So I'll check the weather wherever you are Cause I wanna know if you can see the stars tonight It might be my only right We share the sadness Split screen sadness I called Because I just Need to feel you on the line Don't hang up this time And I know it was me who called it over but I still wish you'd fought me 'til your dying day Don't let me get away Cause I can't wait to figure out what's wrong with me So I can say this is the way that I used to be There's no substitute for time Or for the sadness Split screen sadness We share the sadness-John Mayer

------------------ First Cut Is The Deepest...I would have given you all of my heart But there's someone who's torn it apart And he's taken just all that I had But if you want I'll try to love again Baby, I'll try to love again but I know The first cut is the deepest Baby I know the first cut is the deepest But when it comes to being lucky he's cursed When it come to loving me he's worst I still want you by my side Just to help me dry the tears that I've cried And I'm sure going to give you a try And if you want I'll try to love again (tryyy) Baby, I'll try to love again but I know The first cut is the deepest Baby I know the first cut is the deepest But when it comes to being lucky he's cursed When it come to loving me he's worst I still want you by my side Just to help me dry the tears that I've cried But I'm sure gonna give you a try 'Cause if you want I'll try to love again (try to love again) Baby, I'll try to love again but I know The first cut is the deepest Baby I know, the first cut is the deepest When it come to being lucky he's cursed When it come to loving me he's worst The first cut is the deepest baby i know The first cut is the deepest try to love again...-Sheryl Crow

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Wednesday, February 05, 2003
Don’t get me wrong; I can’t take my eyes of Nigella Lawson’s magnificent rack either. But I am increasingly irritated by her over-the-top commentary. Just cook the damn FOOD, woman!

I happened to catch one of her shows on the lifestyle channel this morning while I pawed over all my mail. She dished up a horrifying black rice concoction with prawns and chilies. It looked like scrapings from the bottom of a sewer to me, but no, she wanted me to behold the “marvellous black pearls of rice studded with ruby chilies”. For a vegetarian variation, she invited me to try it with some “soft, jade hunks of avocado”.

Next she tossed a bit of marinated steak on the BBQ, black on the outside but mooing within, chopped it up and called it a “quiveringly-rare, plateful of spice-seared, ruby-fleshed rags”. To finish off, her Limon cello-drenched trifle featured blackberries “peeking through their blanket of marscapone cream”. Ooh for fuck's sake lady!
Her flowery descriptions were making me long for the last series, with her patented deep-throat taste testing of elongated vegetables. She seems determined to make even the most unremarkable foods sound gloriously decadent and sensuous. Perhaps she cut a deal with some farmers, “Luv, if you can make this here cabbage sexy, we will keep you in tit-hugging twin sets for life”.

You can just imagine her brushing her teeth at night, whipping her tongue over her choppers and marvelling, “The minty freshness of toothpaste evokes memories of prancing barefoot through a meadow in the summertime.”

Or buying new tyres for her car, she’d be groping each one like a ripe melon and purring, “Oh the charcoal curves, the tangy aroma of rubber, the deep and twisting tunnels of the tread, how they surround the shiny wheel like a lovers embrace.”
The whole "Naked Chef" thing was bad enough. The industry sold out, it gave up on the idea that food alone can be enticing enough and decided to stick some (apparently) hip young guy in front of a camera and tell him "now Jamie, bung in what ever ya want - just make sure the commentary is filled with corny clichés and no proper English", that was where it all started .... but this lipstick-loving, soft porn actress who we know as Nigella certainly takes the cake, I only wish she'd cook one without all the innuendo and blatant attempts at 'spicing it up'.

One of the things I hate about returning home from anywhere is the complete lack of food in the house. Invariably I will have an abundance of single ingredients, eg. crackers, mustard pickles or weet-bix, but one cannot turn these ingredients alone into a meal. So I shall be strolling off to the supermarket early tomorrow, as I have nothing for breakfast, which is possibly a recipe for hypoglycemia. Though I do have a nice supply of fresh fish ... seems my Dad finally built me that fish pond he's been threatening to build for close to 12 months ... he even filled it with plants and fish, and it has the obligatory water feature/fountain thingy ...Jamie Drurie would be ever-so proud.

Although there was a moment of sheer amazement when I first walked out my back door to view the aquatic masterpiece. I was greeted by the sight of 3 plastic shopping bags hanging on my clothes line ...and I say to father "umm, why are there 3 plastic bags hanging on my line" and he says to me, in a rather casual way ..."oh, your mother put those there to dry". Rather stunned by this statement I dare to ask, "so, why were they wet" ...and he says "oh, we got them from the plant store, they had the water plants in them". Now, all this time I should have been gazing in wonder at my new piscatorial pals splashing around in their watery home, but I was too focused on those bloody plastic bags, so I walk up to father, who had perched himself nicely on the hammock and I say "Dad ... ummm why the hell does Mum want the bags to dry" and he responds with "well she thought you might need them" Ok, so plastic bags aren't something I go through a lot of, nor are they hard to get if I ever do need any, hell... last time I checked the supermarkets were giving them away. So about now I already know there is no logical answer to any further question I might have, but still I bite and ask my father "so, what the fuck does she think I want the bags for ... did she seriously say I might want 3 used plastic bags, was it like some kind of joke, was she trying to make some kind of point" (yes, amazement had by this stage turned to utter disbelief) and by now, poor father was feeling somewhat under siege and bothered, when all he wanted to do was nap in the hammock ...so he launched himself off said hammock, strolled casually toward the dangling bags, gentle pulls them off the line and as he's poking them inside one and other he says "as I take it you don't want them, I'll put them in that thing over there, I think it's called a rubbish bin". Ahhhhh, my Dad is ever so perfect at bringing me out of my exaggerated dramatic displays. Between me .....so practical (mmm sometimes), and my mother ...so bloody weirdo, he really does have it tough at times - it's lucky he has a sense of humour. I have to say, I'm still walking around asking myself (out loud mind you) what the fuck she thought I would do with 3 used, and dirty plastic bags.

And a big 3 cheers for Wayne Carey, he's done it again! I'm not sure I remember the last time a nude spa party made the news headlines ..... u legend Wayne!

Had a complaint about the lack of movie news in my new blog, and my response to that complaint is .... www.darkhorizons.com. But for the rest of you ... mmmmm is Jennifer Garner in Daredevil - to be released March 20th, Aussie Travis Fimmel will play Tarzan in a new TV series, Dawson's Creek is officially over (nooooo, course I don't watch it) Billy Zane (mmmmm) will star in the Starsky and Hutch film, and a great new Ed Norton film, "25th Hour" will be released on March 6th.

I'm kinda glad to be home, can't wait to sleep in my own bed ...... and thank god, no more slobbering dog on my bed (Diesel, I love ya honey .... but that drool thing just won't do).

posted by The Princess 8:10 PM


Devoted to Viggo
Second Opinion.. The glow inside another red-crossed pelvis will drain when they crush that little bulb. Menstrual minstrels drift in from the weedless garden. The immaculate blue flame from the fake fireplace burns in the corner of my eye. Can't stop staring at nothing. A gloved hand opens the door, and the man enters soothingly, with an air of respect for the dead. Encourages us to look on the bright side. Black pants hide your pain afterwards, and there's a cookie on a napkin and a paper cup of red juice to replace your strength. We drive home without blinking because the sun isn't real .. . -Viggo Mortensen


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