Posts by Che Tibby
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I've ended the last HP and can stop hiding from Che Tibby on the buses again.
you're kidding! you mean there's at least one person i didn't get the spoilers to before the they read the book!!
better reconsider my comms plans...
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could i also please state that thestreet.com is the most annoying website in creation...
i have never been so pissed off trying to find the details of a 1000 word story amidst all the advertising and other bumpf.
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And why is someone betting billions of dollars on world stock markets tanking just before September 21?
that'll be the france - ireland game.
probably latent concern about a diplomatic split in the EC.
don't think it couldn't happen...
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hmmmm.... did somebody just get a job as an analyst of some kind?
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:(
i missed it, and i am sad.
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jesus michael... theatre already.
so deborah, how about it? are you able to function rationally without the calming presence of your husband?
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In light of the numerous conversations about stripping going on, I thought I'd put up a story about a decent bastard, my middle brother Khan.
A few years back he was engaged to a girl from Queensland, and attention-seeking little bitch, who unceremoniously dumped him on the day of his stag do. The guys, overjoyed at the prospect of not losing their mate to a complete nutter, resolved to keep the stag do going anyway. A better cause for celebration none of us could think of.
I turned up to the party venue, and it was shed in a mate's backyard, in the middle of Arataki, Mount Maungaui. A seedy place. You walked into the shed and there's a big home-made table in the middle of the room. There's a couple of tapped kegs at the back, and a huge pile of grass on a chopping board on the big table. A few of the boys were already well into that.
After a few hours of half-arsed speeches, rousing rounds of back-slapping, and numerous jokes at the Queensland girl's expense, my youngest brother noted that this "stag do" had thus far not had the obligatory stripper. Khan attempted to put the kybosh on that idea, but it had legs of its own, and pretty soon a whip-around was organised. A portable phone and yellow-pages were produced as if by magic, and the necessary calls were being made.
Now, the Mount is a small place. A very small place. This was evidenced by one call to "a place that will send you strippers" where the guy making the call goes, "sorry, what's that girl's name? Cherry? You mean Cherry [XXXX]? Ba-hahahaha! Matt! You're ex is stripping bro!"
Matt: "Shut the fuck up man..."
Finally a girl who wasn't related to, formerly a partner of, or currently a partner of, one of the guys was located, and we were assured they would be at the shed, in a dark backyard, in a seedy part of town, in no time...
The table is moved, and all the chairs moved against one wall, stadium style. And we wait in anticipation.
The call goes up that a car has arrived, and we're all baited breath when in walks.... the most pregnant stripper you've ever seen. She must have been 8 months if she was a day. She strides in, and starts pointing to and naming guys she recognises. She's fully dressed. And she's seriously loud. This is not sensual. The guys are all a little freaked out. And then walks in the next stripper. A bloke about 6 ft high and 3 ft wide. He's also very fully dressed. The boys are relieved. But also a little worried.
The chat from the pregnant woman continues for awhile. The big guy just stands by the wall watching everyone. Khan is looking increasingly uncomfortable. He didn't want this in the first place, and now it's looking like the big guy is about the start a stereo he's produced from christ-only-knows-where (remember the table, the big pile of grass, and the two kegs? These are seriously gone by now), and the pregnant girl is going to get her gear off.
No-one is excited. No-one thinks he's going to get his money's worth.
Then striding in comes this woman who must have legs fifteen feet long. She's in heels and a little outfit, the usual stuff. The music has kicked in, and it's you know, a strip show.
Now, what you need to know about Khan is that he's just a good bloke. He's always genuinely liked women, the company of women, and having respect for them. So right now he looks like he wants to crawl under a rock. He's already having a bad day, and now someone is trying to get his gear off in front of all his mates, for their amusement. She's getting her kit off, and he's mostly squirming. The boys are cheering half-heartedly, and the whole thing is just a bit ugly.
When it happens. The stripper has decided to do her climatic part of the act. She's down to her birthday suit, and is going to do this complicated forward cartwheel thing, and land in Khan's lap for a dance. He's sitting on a stool, and the boys are waiting with baited breath.
The shed is small. There's a dozen guys in there, a pregnant woman, the Terminator, a stereo whacking out the worst songs of the 70s, and an incredible acrobatic act is about to kick off. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife.
She takes two steps and vaults forward.
And stuffs it up.
She catches Khan square in the the chest with her crotch, and knocks him back off the stool. They both fall to the ground, Khan flat on his back, her on her knees with her crotch in his face. She looks mortified but just keeps on dancing there, Khan just can't believe what he's seeing.
The boys have collapsed laughing in heaps.
And the whole time, Khan never tried to lay a single finger on her.
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wagner? my favourite was hart to hart.
and stefanie powers was seriously "80s hot".
</saunters off to play lisa miller again>
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wow. got back to my pc and walked right into a 'theatre'.
michael, not entirely sure where your accusations against deborah are coming from. other than a perhaps deliberate misinterpretation of that comment waaay back on another page?
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stephen said:
I'd be interested to know how Che thinks his theory of group identity (you can't proclaim yourself a member, other members have to acknowledge you) works [in gender politics].
nah, my theory is one of nationalism and cultural/ethnic identity. it could play out in relation to gendered identity, but i'm never applied it.
and a slight pedantry from me. the theory is "i can proclaim myself a member of any group, but other members have to acknowledge me to make that proclamation valid".
a tangible example of that is my maori ancestry. by virtue of descent i can claim, ko te ati awa toku iwi au. ko whakarongotai toku marae au.
but, because i'm physically, linguistically, and culturally pakeha, that claim will meet resistance.
as i say, how that type of subjective claim could play out in gender politics? i dunno.