It’s my first attempt at a love song

And I think it shows a psycho softer side of me

Next release will be the LIVE DVD

Then new album!

CLICK HERE TO BUY ‘WAIT’ ON ITUNES!

CLICK HERE TO BUY ‘WAIT’ ON ITUNES!

CLICK HERE TO BUY ‘WAIT’ ON ITUNES!

And drove today to Hamilton, where we’re kicking off the New Zealand tour tonight

I’m a bit knackered

But nothing that a good Nanna nap won’t fix

It’s not really all the flying that wears me out

Or the shows

Sometimes I think it’s the airports

The waiting

The carrying all your shit from one end to another

The lining up

And don’t even get me started on the security

That seems to get worse every time I travel

Especially always having to go through those new scanners at all the airports

But I’ve come to accept it

Embrace it even

I’m possibly a little more comfortable than I should be going through them these days

Why not I say!

I’ve working on the theory that the whole world really CAN be a stage

And stripper poles are optional

*thanks Anne

It’s just about here!

What, you say? You spaz

THE ROYAL WEDDING, PEOPLE

THE ROYAL WEDDING

IT’S ON FRIDAY FOR FUCK’S SAKE

CAN I TURN OFF MY CAPS LOCK NOW?

Thankyouverymuch

So yeah, Will & Kat are getting hitched on Friday

And I, like a bazillion other peeps

Will probably check it out on TV

I mean, it’s not like I’m going to hold it against Willy

That some fucker at immigration was a complete wankstain

And wouldn’t even let me in the country

But I am starting to think it might have been a conspiracy

I think maybe, just maybe

They wanted to keep me away

Purely as a precaution

Not that I’m a legitimate threat

To Kate, that is

Willy’s not really my type

Premature balding and a fugly for a step-mum

Don’t make the package all that appealing

But I guarantee his bachelor party would have been a shitload more fun with me there

A little Thunder From Down Under

Jenny Talia style

All class with some Aussie arse

With a finale that included paintbrushes, vegemite, boomerangs

A stripper pole and some INXS cranked uppity UP

How’s THAT for a visual?

So yeah, whatevs

Me & my online bought souvineers, will be fine

I might even have a party of my own

Might EVEN dust off the special Union Jack nipple pasties

That I had made in size thermos lid to wear for Will and his hot ginger brother

Fanta pants

Might EVEN send the Prince a few pics

He’s on Facebook, right?

*for those who have been asking – I got my passport back YESTERDAY. Nearly 3 weeks after the date I was told I’d have it. Can-you-fucking-belive-that-shit?

But the not-being-able-to-get-back-to-sleep afterwards?

Sucks balls

Big, hairy, lumberjack, balls

It’s not like I’m not tired

It’s not like I don’t love to sleep

I remember a time when I could wake up in the middle of the night

Wee

Fall back into bed

And sleep for hours

Without opening my eyes once

The whole, you-don’t-need-as-much-sleep once you get older

Is it true?

I think it should be you-don’t-GET-as-much-sleep once you get older

‘Cause I’m pretty sure I could sleep 10 hours straight if given the chance

So waking up early, what’s that called?

Besides fucking stupid

It’s not insomnia, ’cause I’ve already had 4 hours sleep, right?

Narcolepsy?

*checks google*

a sleep disorder that causes excessive sleepiness and frequent daytime sleep attacks

Sleep attacks?

I’ve been attacked IN my sleep

Mainly by midgets that call me Mummy that need hugs after a bad dream who then show their gratitude by falling asleep sideways in between Diamond & I, leaving a trail of bruised ribs and snot in their wake

What’s that other ‘N’ word?

Oh yeah, necrophillia

*back to google*

is the sexual attraction to corpses

Right then – pretty sure I don’t have THAT

Although I always had a bit of a tingly spot for Gary Coleman from Different Strokes, and he’s still dead, yeah?

.

So now that I’m wide awake

And have the Google page open for disorders that start with ‘N’

I’d like to share my gratitude for not having

Nyctophobia

a severe fear of darkness

Unless it’s like 9pm and the mall is closing

But that’s more a fear of getting kicked out of the shops before I find the shoes to match the dress that I’ll never wear but totally had to have ‘just in case’

.

Neurasthenia

Fatigue, anxiety, headaches. Americans were supposed to be particularly prone to neurasthenia, which resulted in the nickname, Americanitis

I think this would be better named ‘parenthood-itis’

Or ‘I-don’t-feel-like-sexy-time-itis’

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Neglect Syndrome

example, a patient in a rehabilitation hospital may wake up in the morning and proceeds to shave his face – only to be told later that he has only shaved half of his face

I once was in such a hurry I only took care of ‘half’ my bikini line

But I prefer to refer to that incident as ‘accidental art’

.

Even though this one doesn’t start with ‘N’

It’s a bit weird, and therefor rates a mention

Genital Retraction Syndrome

the sufferer believes that his genitals (or breasts in the case of women sufferers) are shrinking, retracting in to the body, or may be removed entirely. It is often refered to as ‘penis panic’

I dated someone with this once

I called it little dick syndrome

You know the type girls – big car, big muscles, tiny todger.

Miss HIM

.

Relieved I don’t have any of those

Now I can sleep easy

Now is also a really good time for you to send me drugs

For medicinal purposes only

Or a Josh Groban CD

That shit will trigger a coma

And you know what that means?

It’s that time of year when I turn into a kid

And lose my shit over everything

On an hourly basis

Decorations

Christmas Carols

Shopping

Snow

All of it

Add a little case of jetlag to that

(my body clock seems to think that 1am is a good time to start the day)

And I am positively fucking giddy right now

This is what greeted me at the airport when I arrived home Sunday

I totally busted out singing, “…it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas”

And I could feel all my fellow passengers around me staring

I’m pretty sure it was jealousy

‘Cause there’s not too many five foot mamas who can rock the fucked-all-night-and-hung-out-wet look

That one has after sitting in a plane for eleventy-million hours

And still look fucking fab

Clump of matted hair on the back of my head

Melted chocolate stains on my shirt

Crusty smudged mascara

Slight limp from my cramped legs

And then singing Christmas carols like Janis Joplin with a throat infection?

I’m surprised security didn’t pat me down on my way OUT of the airport

The pure fucking hotness I was radiating

As much as I wanted to share my fabbo-ness

I thought it best I save myself for my lucky-bastard of a husband

Who took one look at me when I walked in the door

And said, “….dude you look like shit

Did your plane getting fucking SHOT down?”

All different

But all immacualte

FILLED with staff

That’s something that we see consistently backstage

Lots and LOTS of staff

For me to walk from backstage, out to the front, to see Mum at the merchandise desk

I would have people walking with me

Security don’t like you walking around by yourself

So at all times, there was at least 2 security guards with me

I’m sure this had NOTHING to do with them not trusting me

And the stolen hand towels incident from 2008

They WERE a gift, I swear

It felt a little weird being escorted everywhere

But it’s better than the alternative, right?

When we played the 2 Johannesburg shows

I was told that I had to have my own bodyguard

It sounded very unnecessary and completely weird

But those were the rules there

He was stationed outside my dressing room all night

I told him my real name was Whitney

And I’m pretty sure he loved hearing me belt out “I Will Always Love You” each night before the show

Warm ups ‘n shit

He has a beautiful African name that is crazy hard to pronounce

So I just called him Kevin

That’s Mr Costner to you

10 THINGS

I know, like you gave a shit right?

.

Anyhoo

.

You know how they say, ‘FRIENDS DON’T LET FRIENDS DRINK & DRIVE TEXT?’

It makes me soooo glad I’m not single

You go out with your mates

You get a few drinks in you

And all of a sudden you’re texting that loser you met last weekend

‘Cause he wrote his name on your arm with some kind of ink that you can’t wash the fuck off

And then you wake up the next day

To see that your 28 texts were successful

He’s coming by for breakfast!

.

So while I don’t have this kind of dilema anymore

I have found a new way to fuck with embarrass myself

When I’ve consumed 2 bottles one too many merlots

Just like friends should take your cell phone off you when you’re single and drinking

My friends or somebody that gives a fuck should limit my access to any forms communication, including taping my mouth shut, when I’m partaking in alcoholic beverages

Let me give you the 10 reasons why

1. drunk shopping on amazon.com – it’s expensive, and you end up with 2 of everything for some reason
2. emailing your 6 year old’s kindy teacher to ask her, “what the fuck’s up with all the red corrections on my kid’s homework you fucking Nazi?”                                   
3. dropping over to your neighbours house at 2am to borrow a cup of bourbon
4. trying to put a saddle on your totally big enough, but petrified, dog and riding him to the liquor store at 7am
5. ‘pinky promising’ your 6 year old daughter that you will take her to church EVERY fucking Sunday for the rest of the year
6. trying on a bikini that you wore 8 years ago, that you can only get up to your knees
7. booking a trip online to Bahamas anyway (while wearing said bikini and polishing off the Christmas candy)                                                                                 
8. promising your 4 year old a kitten when really you totally hate cats – and then having to tell her it died before the postman got it to our house ’cause he forgot to put holes in the box. Fucking postman
9. agreeing to let your great Aunty pruney bitch face Joan come visit for Easter. And then having to call her back when you sobered up to tell her your house burnt down from the great Chicago winter bush fires of ’09
10. declaring to all your facebook friends that although you’re not a lesbian, your mistress is a bit dykey

So to all the mother fuckers my friends that let this shit happen

I hope you’re proud of yourselves

I still get asked daily where I’m from

And it totally doesn’t bother me

Really, it doesn’t

I like telling people I’m from Australia

And I’ve never had anything but nice things said back to me

I’ve always wanted to go there

Is that a long flight?

I hear it’s beautiful there

The people are supposed to be the happiest in the world there

I have an (insert family member) that lives there

You get the idea

People are interested

I feel lucky to come from a country that has such a positive reputation, wherever I go

.

I was 18 the first time I ever visited the States, and I remember people’s questions were different back then

Do you know Crocodile Dundee?

Is Crocodile Dundee a real person?

Where does Crocodile Dundee live?

You get the idea

The Crocodile Dundee movie was some people’s only idea of Australia and Australians years ago

That’s changed a lot over the years

Travel has changed, and a lot more people have been to Australia

Australia is more known to the rest of the world now

You can always Aussie content on TV here now

Aussie sport

And there’s a bazilloin Aussie actors working over here now

In movies & TV

Nicole Kidman, Russell Crow, Naomi Watts, Rachel Griffiths, Simon Baker and so many more that I can’t think of

There’s Aussies kicking goals in the music industry too

Keith Urban, Jet, The Veronicas

One day, when I pull my finger out the touring slows down, I’d like to do more shows over here

Let them know what a REAL Aussie sheila is like

The only Australian comedian I can think of that’s done well here is Dame Edna

She’s pretty popular

So it’s good knowing that in America at least, Australians are doing well, and our country is known for more than Crocodile Dundee these days

I will continue my (self appointed) role of cultural ambassador

It’s fun

Today’s example – a conversation with Miss 6′s school Principal when I dropped her off this morning

Principal: I just love your accent

Is it Australian?

Now days people nearly always guess my accent correctly. They used to always think I was English or Irish

Me: Yep, I’m Australian

Principal: How exciting!

Do you know the Crocodile Hunter?

Oh fuck, here we go again

Me: Do you mean Crocodile Dundee?

Principal: No, I mean the Crocodile Hunter

Steve Irwin

Me: Know him?

He’s my brother!

She cocks her head to the side and gives me this are you fucking nuts sad look

Principal: I’m so sorry for your loss

Me: Umm….yeah, well…..thanks

I walked off thinking she was a nutjob wondering what she was on about

Then I remembered

And felt like a total arsehole

.

.

I thought I was being funny

And I’d totally forgotten that the dude was dead

.

Ahh fuck

Maybe it’s time to get a new ambassador

I don’t wear a huge amount of it in the real world

But when I’m at work?

I’m a fan of the transvestite hooker look

Less is more?

Fuck that

More is more

I’m all about the lip gloss, blue eyeshadow, glitter and bright slutty lipstick

I’m forever searching for new shades of tart kinds of makeup

I always use waterproof stuff, ’cause I sweat big time on stage

Like Kirsty Alley at a buffet table kind of sweat

And even with all the waterproof crap I layer on

Some nights I still end up looking like Alice Cooper

After he’s been fucked all night and hung out wet

And lipstick?

Oh fuck, I should have shares in Revlon with all the shit I’ve bought from them over the years

I’m forever looking for a liptstick that stays on, without me ending up looking like a chain smoking 90 year old, with that smudgy-lip look going on

.

So, imagine my utter JOY at finding this stuff

Not just Colourstay

Colourstay ULTIMATE – all together now, ooooooooh!

Oh yeah, I’ll take 2 in every colour

And you know what

It works

It really fucking works

There’s a first time for everything

I mean, these makeup companies can stretch the truth at times yeah?

Think if some of those ads you’ve seen

In the real world, half the women they use are passable at best

But on the ads?

Man, even I’d jump the fence for some of those chicks

They turn out looking HOT!

This new Revlon Colourstay lippy is THE BOMB

No joke

After the show tonight, it was still on, like I’d just applied it

Not even a smudge

But

And there’s always a but

Now I can’t get the shit off

MY MOTHERFUCKING TEEEEEETH!!

This shit is COLOUR FUCKING STAYING!

Good look, no?

All I can say is thank God for days off

‘Cause it’s going to take me the next 24 hours to get this crap off

Hey Revlon,

Fuck you very much!

It was the usual poking, prodding and some blood tests

A few days later my doctor called me to let me know that my cholesterol levels were high

Actually I was away, so he spoke to Diamond and Diamond passed the message on to me

Diamond: Your doctor called

Me: Why, what’s up?

Diamond: Something about your cholesterol

Me: What’s that mean?

Diamond: It’s high or something

Me: Yeah

Diamond: He said you need to go on a diet

Me: Fuck him!

And that was the end of it

.

.

A month or so ago I went back to my doctor ’cause I’m a masochist ’cause apparently that’s what responsible adults do when they’re serious about their health blah, blah, blah

The usual, shit you know?

Poke, prod, how’ve you been? Blood tests etc

He actually asked  me how the diet he recommended worked out for me

Ummm, well how do you THINK it went arsewipe DUDE?

Anyhooo

He calls me back a few days later

Doc: Your cholesterol is even higher than it was last year

Me: Awesome!

Doc: I’m serious, you really need to get this under control, or I’m going to have to put you on medication

Me: I’d like a prescription for marijuana please

Doc: It’s at a dangerously high level now – you need to take this seriously

So after a lecture from the Doc and a guilt trip from Diamond, that went a little something like this;

This is not about you anymore. You’re a mum, you need to take care of this. You owe it to me and the girls

Wow, way to make me feel like a shithead

I could barely finish my beer & hamburger

.

.

So between the guilt and the reminder calls from my Doctor, I have actually been trying to be good on this trip

I have been to the gym nearly every day

Have cut out all the foods I’ve been told to – even coffee!

The result?

FUCKING NOTHING!

I’m serious

Close to 6 weeks of this bullshit and nothing to show for it

And don’t give me that whole, muscle weighs more than fat crap

I want results!

And skinny jeans, perky boobs & no cellulite

Something. Anything!

Was getting ready to throw in the towel and go to MacDonalds the other day when I changed my mind

Was laying on the bed in my hotel room when an elephant jumped on my chest

OK, so it was an imaginary elephant, but it hurt like a mo-fo

I could hardly breathe, then I had these shooting pains going up and down my left arm

And I’m laying there thinking, left arm? Does that mean heart attack, or is it your right arm? And then I’m all, oh fuck, why didn’t I pay more attention to the ‘you & your body’ talks at school? (although I DID learn how to put a condom on a banana in one lesson)

At this point I’m getting a bit freaked out, ’cause the pain is getting worse and I’m wondering if I should call mum. I decide not to, don’t want to give her a heart attack

Then I start having visions about dying in a hotel room. Jesus, how lame would that be? And I’m thinking how would somebody find me. I try to reach my bag of almonds and dried apricots to lay them next to me on the bed

‘Cause if I go, I want to go out looking healthy, you know?

So after I have completely staged my death scene, right down to fanning my hair out on the pillow – it needed a wash, but I was hoping no one would notice, I realised that the pain had stopped

That’s right, the pain was GONE

And I wasn’t dead

Needless to say, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t having a heart attack

Not really sure what it was – a bad hotdog maybe?

Who knows

I’m just happy I’m not dead

And that I didn’t die in a hotel room

I mean come on, how embarrassing would THAT be??

And to try and keep me away from the buffet table on the straight and narrow

I’m carrying this picture around with me wherever I go

And so far it’s working like a charm

The one thing worse than dying in a hotel room?

Dying in the SHOWER of a hotel room