Megsie’s induction to senior citizenship…

Darlings!! It’s come to pass – Megsie is now a bone fide old chook. Without too much ado – and with the assistance of a serious new cocktail manual (recently launched at Karma Kandara) – the Gang spent the week quietly observing the passage of the big 6-oh…

party manual

maestro

Sammy Jo's coconut lush

No crowd scenes – just one long ‘family’ group hug really (the perfect compromise, given Studio Bitch’s notorious antisocial leanings…) But what a smorgasbord of events it turned out to be – the cosmic synchronicity of Eurotrash, State of Origin and Megsie’s 60th Pyre (of all things predating Prisoners of the Crown) – and all in one week! Pure gold, we tells ya.

Iain's pear and parsnip soup

Sammy Jo making State of Origin cup cakes

Sammy Jo and Elsa wetting the work(shop)-in-progress

Elsa cooks Torajan

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Sammy Jo cooks a cheese cake

…and so it goes…

Chrissie and Sammy Jo

tour de workshop, Les and Shay

Iain and Scares

Al and SJ

Chrissie and Marcus

the Muzzbotts and Brian

the new old chook

…and then out of the cell block materialised Team Pink Bits…

Team Pink Bits

…front-lined by – hello you guessed it – the Merkin…

Return of the Merkin

Team Pink Bits

…Studio Bitch (in a rare photographic sighting) even packed pink chest hair…

rare visual of Studio Bitch...

silly old buggers

Silly buggers (but we loved it.) And then it was time for the Pyre (boxes and boxes full of years and years of shite from the shed)…

The Pyre; a cleansing

The Pyre; a cleansing II

…until it was finally down to the stayers…

The Late Stayers; Elsa, Marcus, the Muzzbotts and Helen

Elsa

…who managed a 5 o’clocker – which wasn’t too shabby, eh. As luck would have it we woke to a Torajan recovery brunch…

Elsa, Torajan brunch

…to kick off one last quiet day before the troops had to ship back out…

sayonara

up up and away on Sexy Rexy

…to the coal face; one final frosty chill before the tropics. So that’s the last of the fun folks, and now it’s back to work here at the Hideout, too.

Thanks again to Sammy Jo and Iain for a most memorable (10 day!) 6th Decadian Bash – a quality string of perfeck, low key treats. Very very noice indeed.

Thanks so much to all for the beyond ample (seemingly endless) provision of Taittinger (we loves youse all…and we didn’t mind the Pol Roger neither Elsa!!)

But a very particular thanks to our fave son-in-law for the newest addition to the Cunt Collection…

Cunts rock, man

[Don’t start writing in people – it’s art, get used to it. n(Ed)]

PS: Omigod, almost forgot to thank Shay for the preview litre(!) of Poor Toms Gin; son Jesse and Co’s fabulous aussie botanical drop which is on the verge of launching in Sydney. We were all treated to a wonderful, full bodied narrative tasting. What a cracker – keep an eye on these boys, it’s a serious contender.

Poor-Toms-Gin

Poor Toms Gin here. Recent article (one of many) here. Get some.

Sir Galahad Poo does MONA…

The Gang’s been ridiculously slow, we know, to make the MONA pilgrimage but we’d been hanging off to do it with Davey (never mind, darl, plenty more adventures down the track, eh…)

And the Muzzbotts flew in (with Elsa) to spirit us off as a joint birthday celebration for Megsie and Studio Bitch (60 and 65 respectively; tragic but true.) So out we set, with three objectives – MONA, Sullivan’s Cove Distillery (for the Scotsman) and The Cascade Female Factory for a moon-o-rama (more of that later.)

Objective #1: MONA…

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Naturally we surrendered to the full shebang; boarding the gunboat, chatting to Trev (the pirate lorikeet), riding the sheep…

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And generally enjoying the entire immersive experience…

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Loved the space – yep, it’s on steroids – and the artwork (so many of our fave peeps; Sid, Matthew H, Julia DeV, the list goes on and on)…

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Julia Deville, Cinerarium

[We’ve interspersed some of MONA’s shots with our own, hence the wild variation in quality(!) n(Ed)]

So much to get off on…

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Julius Popp, Bit.fall

And of course we were completely taken by Greg Taylor’s work, not the least because he’s a Bega boy!!!! Who would have thunk it…

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Greg Taylor and Friends, Cunts…And other Conversations

Sir Galahad, it goes without saying, was entirely in his element and on a dedicated mission of his own…

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Wim Delvoye, Cloaca Professional

[Have to say that we have no idea of Wim’s prescribed diet for the piece, but Sir G is a much healthier looking stool specimen, hands down – perhaps he has a more nutritional regime.  n(Ed)]

After which he checked out the MONA wildlife…

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And enjoyed a very nice lunch at The Source…

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Definitely no disappointments MONA-wise. We’re sure DW’s having a serious laugh (on countless levels) but as that fits squarely into our own subversive POV we were beyond happy with nigh on everything. Bloody marvellous.

[But on a serious note: post visit, we are now enjoying a luxurious mosey through Monanisms (thanks Chrissie, loving it big time) and it has amped our regard even further. Everything David Walsh does – the labyrinthine museum, the gunboat, the publication, the extended environs, the heterogeneous vision, the vibe – is nothing short of pure class. And, crucially, entertaining. Serious smile on the dial biz, regardless of the dark thematics. We may never bother with conventional cultural institutions again. MONA is a long awaited affirmation that the stereotypic pretension and pomposity of the Argh-rts is just a load of old bollocks. n(Ed)]

Objective #2: The Cascade Female Factory – most specifically because Minnie had sent through (way back) a fabbo article from the Australian newspaper by David Hunt (author of Girt: The Unauthorised History of Australia), examining the myths and mysteries of Australia Day. Brilliant article, way funny, but we were especially transfixed by…

‘…it might be more fitting to honour our nation on a new public holiday, “Arse Day”, to celebrate Australia’s first mass mooning. A witness to this most Down Under of events at the Tasmanian Cascade female factory in 1838, where women convicts were protesting a lecture on morality, reported, “The three hundred women turned right around and at one impulse pulled up their clothes showing their naked posteriors which they simultaneously smacked with their hands making a loud and not very musical noise.’

Pure gold. And so of course a mooning became the second objective…

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Such an appropriate rite, especially in situ. We’re hoping it catches on.

Plenty more to see, of course…

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And then we wound our way, as one does, up the hill to the Cascade Brewery…

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…which had everything we fancied, even a crow saying ‘fark’…

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And more.

Objective #3: Sullivan’s Cove Distillery (cos where else do you take a Scotsman but the engine room for a tasting of the World’s Best Whiskey 2014?)

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We do love a broad-arrow.

Thanks so much to Sammy Jo and Iain for the best birthday prezzie ever.

[Because, of course, it also afforded Megsie an über rich vein of R&D – for all manner of convict-o-rama down the track. Uh-oh. n(Ed)]

Just so’s you know…

Here at the Hideout we are beyond smitten – we’re besotted…

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Forget about Mr Darcy. We’re totally transfixed by Poldark on Sunday nights. [Megsie reckons it doesn’t hurt that he looks like Studio Bitch when he were a lad, arrrh…! n(Ed)]

From this day forth…

It’s a big day here at the Hideout – Studio Bitch turns 65!!

Meaning that he’s now a…

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(Cake by Megsie, sentiment universal)

And what do you buy a tooled-up old geezer?

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Another tool, of course.

Now that’s a drill (click to enlarge.)

[Before anyone decides to get their knickers in a knot, please note that ‘silly old cunt’ is a ridgy-didge term of endearment. Cake’s divine, btw. (n(Ed)]

Heigh-ho heigh-ho…

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Bob’s back (and Jason), to install the ‘partition walls’ that demarcate Megsie’s mould making area and cold shop. Lov-erly.

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Happy happy joy joy.

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[Tradie alert: take care where you put your jacket. n(Ed)]

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