Miss April Advises: Frequent Fornicator (Again!), Data Retention Ills.

Dear Miss April,

I have a technical problem, I think. It’s not the medication like last time.

Any way I thought this data retention thing the government was offering sounded great. My hard drive is so slow, due to the enormous amount of images and films I like to have handy. Those things take up digital space and not in a fun way.

So excited by this govt cloud that just keeps everything on your computer in the free Canberra archive, I deleted all my selfies and auto videography. I don’t seem to be able to access the data retention cloud however. It’s a real problem. I have potential new friends on Tinder, Grinder , Emission Impossible and other social networking sites I’m desperate to share some of my most impressive and ,dare I say , unrepeatable personal events, that I managed record ,mostly unassisted.

Is there a back door I can access? A password I’m missing ? I’ve tried the education ministers office as communications ministers a bit busy and all I got was a shrill giggle. Must have been a very wrong number.

I need a new way in. Any ideas ?

Yours (for now)
Frequent Fornicator

Yours truly having a jolly good time drying my plums.

Yours truly having a jolly good time drying my plums.

Why, if it isn’t my dear friend Frequent Fornicator. It has been some time, my dearest. It bears me well to hear from you, although I’m somewhat flummoxed by the plethora of unknown words which you present.

Data retention sounds like a most uncomfortable ailment for which I recommend a spoonful of cod liver oil and a plump Oriental Agen prune imported via the Silk Route (only the best!). Repeat daily for at least one week (if Our Lord can summon all of creation within 7 days than by golly we can cure data retention and rest for Sundays). No doubt you’ll locate the backdoor access once you feel more yourself.

"Can't take any more data...must have prunes..."

“Can’t take any more data…must have prunes…” Image: The Art of Brandis

In terms of passwords and ministers, self-portraits, moving images, clouds and new friends; I’m quite sure you’ve got yourself the solid setting and character structure for a damn fine penny dreadful. Just remember, “you have nothing to fear if you have nothing to hide” so says our trusted Government spokespeople, or was that Joseph Goebbels? Who can tell? (Insert guileless titter). Using that logic you must be our Government’s ideal citizen – you want to share EVERYTHING! Good for you, they should use you as poster boy in all future political campaigns. Placard reads: Frequent Fornicator has nothing to hide and votes 1 Liberal/Labour/EitherOne – Hoorah for political activism!

Yours in the clouds,
Miss April

Postscript: My neighbour just enlightened me via tête-à-tête on the use and purpose of grinders and tinders. Stuff and poppycock. I offer you to consider this instead, an excerpt on courtship advice:

Anciently, talismans and charms were relied on for procuring love ; “but it is now many years since the only talismans for creating love are the charms of the person beloved,: By gracefully displaying those advantages which nature has given, and by diligently cultivating the graces which art can bestow, every man may reasonably hope to succeed in whatever aspirations he may form in this direction. In this field, moral qualities prevail far more than physical ; and while few men are possessed of those attractions of form and face which sometimes are successful, all may hope to acquire those qualifications of character, understanding and manners, which more often win the esteem of woman (or man) (or voters – hint hint Party Politicians).

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Miss April Advises: #1 Fan, Christmas Present .

Dear Miss April,

few months back i got a new friend. one of my clients at work. A smart engineer, in his fourties. He gives you a serious first impression but as you get to know him, you soon realise he is a fun, social seeetheart. He’s preety cool and i am crazy about his friend !

so recently we met after holidays and he gives me a gift, “just a christmas gift” (he describes) actually a misunderstanding because my colleague/best friend at work got him a present and he thought it was me when i cleared things… was too late, he had given me the gift already… A beautiful enormous red heart, some sort of pillow he bought back home and nicely packed.

heartwarming, i hardly get gifts 😦

Now afcourse i have to give something in return… no surprise here, i dont know what to give.

thinking i have this really cool electronic cigar with nice flavours to go along.(no tobacco)

and i went to ask him. our convo…

Do you smoke? he replied no.
me: Because you can’t or you dont want to? He says: just never been curious, i smoke yes but not tobacco,why?He asks. I said: Because i have something really nice i want you to try. That def made him curious. he kept asking about it all day long 😀 but i never gave him in time because he travelled.

He is coming back soon and now i have to choose, i either give him the electronic cigar or a pen (that might be expensive)

my friends say an electronic cigar is not an appropriate gift for a non smoker but i keep on insisting with this because it will save me less i dont have to buy it 🙂 and I dont think the electronic cigar will hook him up but i also dont want to look like someone who offers things that can be addictive. electronic cigar is safe for me atleast. Oh and I also want to make an awesome impression in his friend with the gift.

Ok my dear miss salvation, help me decide please ? whats your opinion with the electronic cigar ? if its a no then any other ideas …

regards,

your #1 fan xoxo

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Dear Dearest of Dears,

I do declare, I am beginning to know you. Yet, I do not know thine age. What year are you in, my dear? I hear many readers now cry out – what oft this? How does age matter? Well, I’m of the belief that usually the people who claim “age is no matter” are much older men justifying undeclared dalliances. I bring this up because your attention falls upon a man in his forties. Of such a mature age, is he not married? Committed? I say to you, if he is, why on earth is he handing out heart shaped pillows? (I mean apart from learning seduction techniques from the Sweet Valley High series with a babysitter fetish).

If he is not betrothed, in his forties and a sophisticated, connected man of the world, how on earth does he think such a gift would win someone over?

Enough of your coquettishness. Do not prevaricate around the bush. If you are desirous of presenting a gift of an electronic cigar (what on earth is this?) or a pen, why not go all out and just get a penis shaped bottle opener? Does phallic symbolism mean nothing anymore? Forgive me for my maternal extinct, but my suggestion is gift him with a fire extinguisher and expunge this ill-fated dalliance before it has time to engulf everyone around it.

You are bored. You need to get a better hobby then dull old men. With best wishes for your happiness,
Yours,
Miss April

PS. True friends don’t fuck around with ridiculous gifts.

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Miss April Advises: Wendy Ngo, Public Art Confusion.

Dear Miss April,

I almost crashed the Cayenne the other day. I was careening down Victoria Parade with the kids Ipading in the back and nilly had a conniption.

Theres a huge pile of Lavender steel holding up a gold George Jensen neck brace, two cartoon gunners in Lavender and a flock of olympic or gay coloured ufos. Really I dont care just choose youre side ladies, Putin/ Hair you choose. I found out later they were coolie hats. I had Jacinta google it on her Iphone5. The city of Yarra web site is very proud of these shallow cultural strereotypes. I pride my self on only being shallow for myself. I find it horrid in others.

OMG, its OMG awful. You seem to be able to explain public art. You cleared up the swarofski thing at the cultural centre. I was excited by the bling power but you are right it was a bit not shiny enough for any of us. Can you tell me that this thing is? Its like a vomit meets a car crash meets a thai restaurant interior. Can you tell me why its there? Can you tell me why it cost $3million [ jacnitas iphone, I was driving] and the electric cables are still showing. I have nice looking electrician if they need one.

Oh and whats with the tigers, this things not even in richmond, well one is, but really?

Hope you can help, i hate googling , it hurts the nails.

Your bestie

Wanda Gno.
East Melbourne

Hoddle Street Gateway by Avant Garde artist collaborative group "the community, the local business association, & the 3 tiers of government ". Think Girls on Speed combined with Pussy Riot, with fervent Richmond football club supporters and committed literal interpretation devotees.

Hoddle Street Gateway by Avant Garde artist collaborative group “the community, the local business association, & the 3 tiers of government “. Think Girls on Speed combined with Pussy Riot, with fervent Richmond football club supporters and committed literal interpretation devotees.

Dear Wendy Ngo

How delightful you (and your little brood) sound. I am so very honoured to be the recipient of your lyrical prose worthy to be presented as a gift to the gods, most assuredly. I have sashayed down Victoria Street many a time during the past annus mirabilis under my parasol, waving to the opium traders, stepping over the tracksuit wearers, admiring the beards imbibing in the open-windowed bars, and satisfying my delicate lady appetite with fragrant banquets of 6-8 mouth-watering dishes. I must admit I have been so confounded by the Leviathan and its many hats and accompaniments that they don’t seem to register in my long-term memory. Accordingly, I am as equally perplexed with every venture to the precinct of which I am so fond. Your correspondence therefore has provided me an opportunity of reflection and repose. I must know myself as I relate to the discombobulation that is known to be The Victoria Street Gateway Project.

My first revelation Mrs Ngo is that you are quite mistaken to view it as public art, as much as one assumes that giant sculptural and pictorial representations placed on public land is often assumed to be such. I also made a similar misassumption , and was at first keenly eager to discover who was behind this Avant Garde artist collaborative calling themselves ‘The Three Tiers of Government’ who had worked so closely with the other band of creative bohemians the ‘Richmond Asian Business Association’ and ‘Community’. Oh, my heart was all a flutter at the thought of discovering the identities of these foreword thinkers, cultural philosophers, and creative chieftans. Alas, I was shocked to discover that they were quite literally their namesakes and no professional artists were involved in this process at all. Ah, now that makes a tad more sense. Now that we gaze upon the Gateway with this tidbit, of course, NO ARTIST INVOLVEMENT AT ALL, and…the penny drops.

For what need do we have for the mind of the artiste when we have a successful architectural firm capable of designing award-winning buildings? The true creative here my demure Wendy is in fact Gregory Burgess Architects, who has proven themselves to be extraordinarily talented designers of celebrated buildings. Herein lies the quandary – their most literal approach, which must have served them well for architecture, does not perform well in translating culture into inspiring art. In fact, nowhere does The Victoria Street Gateway Project ever refer to itself as public art. So it appears it is suffering from a terrible crisis of identity. It is a construction, a gaumless literal creature.

You see, the gateway represents a boat (well, you know Vietnamese refugees, boat people arrivals, you know..). Then of course, we have traditional Vietnamese hats represented by, well.. big hats…suspended above. We are also presented with a light box panel of green bars (bamboo) with two “welcoming” tigers. Now this is a departure, as there are very few to no tigers left in Vietnam, so what is the deeper meaning here? Conservation? Species extinction? Oh, wait, football – oh how I laugh, so quaint. Thank goodness it only cost 2 million. Discretely I wonder on the ‘inclusive’ properties of declaring one’s sports tribe on a broad community gateway, but who am I to question such things, as the representative of the Richmond Asian Business Association declares: “Everyone has to support Richmond. If you support Collingwood that’s a different story. People boo us.” Ahh, welcome brothers and sisters, see how we represent you so. Halt Wendy, do not complain, for God help us they will probably stick a Magpie up there as recompense and that would just be too much to bear.

Then we also have aluminium panels fixed to the railway abutment walls, get this, you’ll never see this coming – another boat ! Plus, a traditional Vietnamese drum. Golly, I haven’t seen such dedication to literalism since Marcel Marceau. I am only surprised they restrained themselves from buying massive amounts of take-away rice paper rolls and just nailing them directly to the wall. Or perhaps suspended neon spring rolls could be a later addition, and let’s go crazy by putting up some sticks to represent chopsticks.

Do not misunderstand me, I celebrate the oeuvre of literal interpretation, some of my best friends are Westboro Baptists, and of course, I am a fervent practitioner of Literal Interpretative Dance, a most powerfully creative physical expression of the musical lyric.

Sunshine = widespread fingers, both hands move outward from a centre point.
Rain = wiggle fingers while moving hands from a raised position to a lower position in front of body.
Happy = beaming smile with open hands framing the chin, keep fingers wide.

Do not avow my dry descriptions here best exemplified by interpretive dance extraordinaire Johann Lippowitz.

But I digress.

The Victoria Street Gateway Project is a noble goal conducted with honourable intention (I assume). It is most definitely public, but sadly does not reach it’s potential as art. Do not lament though Mrs Ngo, we must all learn that potential is often nary fulfilled, and tragically beautiful opportunities can be lost forever such as a drop falls into the tranquil stream of lament. However, the three tiers and business posse are sure to be happy, and the gapeseeds will no doubt reinforce their predetermined vision. There is naught to be done. Acceptance can be a powerful mindset.

Do take care of those darling children,
Yours,
Miss April

rice-paper-rolls-large

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Miss April Advises: Herr Shute, shorts on men in a warming world

Hi there Miss April,

This week has been terrible. 40plus degress every day. Im not blessed with Air Conditioning in my daily life. Normally I think it a crime, not unlike SUV’s, but this week I began to revise my opinion. I mean if global warmng doesnt exist then, hey, I MUST have aircon and an SUV and a coal mine and……… .
Anyway, i dont have the means to buy or rudley inherit this kind on unneccesary burden.

Sorry for the rant, its hot and i’m fragile.

My question. when and where is the short acceptable on a fellow? Is there a hem length that should not be breached. I’m quite hersuite from the pelvis up so I need other areas to expose for passive cooling. I dont think a kaftan will cut it at the office but in my inner world I see it as almost manditory.

Quickly please before the next wave of “not global” but local warming.

Yours

Herr Shute.

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Dear Herr Shute

I have lived through many stages of body hair fashion and as such am not one to succumb to a pro-, nor anti-hirsute faction. One is but an ape, if one is to believe the ever remarkable Darwin, and the defining method of separating ourselves from our savage cousins is through proper attire.

To that end I am compelled to declare in unequivocal terms: The wearing of shorts has no place within a civilised society. Unless you are a hurdy-gurdy grinding monkey you must not don the short. Consider your pride. Consider your responsibilities to fellow man. The only exception would be at the hour of exercise, the only ,mind you.

There are many and varied fashion choices for the man of prestige and power during these waves of heat. Some are quite jolly and comfortable for sweltering days, particularly if you commit yourself to the steadfast rejection of the reality of your surroundings. Go on, try it, it works a treat.* I categorize it as Denialist Wear, and it suits my brethren and kin to a tee. I present to you a visual gallery of examples:

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However, let us imagine for a moment that science is real and those pesky extreme heatwaves do return so often they are no longer recognised as ‘extreme’ to our next generation but as ‘normal’ and hopefully survivable. Well, therein lies a tragic dilemma – what to wear? The Denialist line of fashion so thrillingly portrayed by the models above will not suffice in such a scenario, and so I look back to the man I trust the most when I have a seemingly insurmountable conundrum – Jesus. Our Lord wore kaftans. Not wanting to play the race card here, Herr Shute, but is your reticence to don the kaftan implying that you think you are better than Jesus, Shute? Bosh tosh, if not outright blasphemy!

You reveal allure toward the comfort of the holy robe and I am here to assuage your fears and become the wind beneath your wings (so to speak). Go forth Shute, be a man of culture, respect, and comfortable nethers – be that man who makes dresses manly. Stride down the footpath of life as a man of confidence. Don’t worry, they will soon follow (your peers I mean, not those of ill-repute). Why even limit yourself to kaftans? Experiment with the kurta with the array of sumptuous fabrics and colours available from the East. The very sexy sherwani resplendent with silks and gold is excellent for more formal balls and gatherings. Whereby the kilt, aahh, the kilt; well as a single lady from the Empire needless to say I insist my suitors to wear the finest plaid and sporran available to mankind. And yes, they come in summer-weight. As an aside, Herr Shute, just between you and me, if ever I were to surrender my much valued spinsterhood believe me, Mr April-to-be will be donning the glorious kilt of the Highlands.

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I feel it Herr Shute, we are at the dawning of a fashion revolution.

Yours in skirts,
Miss April

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Miss April Advises: E. Mission – a frightening tale of laundry

Dear Miss April,

Im very messy. A bit of a slob , actually, despite my attempts at appearing graceful and effortless. Inevitably at the end of the day I disrobe and discover I’ve been wearing something thats issued from within my body as well as some daily grime. Spit, sweat, semen, blood, you name it, I’ve ended up with these diaurnal emmisions somewhere on my person.
I enjoy laundry, which is fortunate, and have conquered most of these stains. One lingers however. How do you get blood out of a white shirt without rendering it a rag?

Regards

E. Mission

Dear E. Mission

I stand before you (self) accused of procrastination. The finger of God points down upon me, “It is she. She is the one who has neglected her flock. She is the one who shuns the needy. It is she.”

Oh dear, my Christmas holiday appears to have extended a little too long and I do confess that you are the victim of my irresponsibility. So let me start by humbly offering you my apology as your letter dated the 8th December 2012 might just mean that blood stain is a permanent fixture. But spit-spot no time for dreary maudlinism, let’s see what we can still accomplish.

At first I must say I was rather at a loss for words upon reading your predicament. Alas, I immediately assumed you were a man and quite possibly a serial killing psychopath, but I understand that’s sexist. You could very well be a lady of the night. If you are the latter I would like to also recommend a preventative measure – prophylactics and a lot of them (do they make complete body ones?). Considering the state of your dress, would you consider substituting your cotton fabrics for latex? One can then quickly clean with a damp soapy cloth.

If you are the former I’m afraid I’ll have to request you turn yourself in to the authorities without cleaning your shirt as this is vital evidence, good luck and may Justice herself prevail.

Of course you may very well be neither of these and be one of those creatures that exist beyond my sheltered domestic world. However, let it not be said that I have turned by back on offering good cleaning advice. Cleanliness is next to Godliness, and it is my duty to offer you all I can in this regard because it sounds like you might be tipping in at second level demon.

Yes, it might be tempting to get violent with a washboard but you are quite right, it would quickly flay a delicate white shirt. You must be patient and use a step by step process beginning with a long soak overnight in cold water. Let the blood waft away as if a bad dream. The next day rinse, inspect, and soak further if needed. If it proves to be stubborn then you should ring it gently through a clothes ringer and allow to dry, rub lemon juice on the stain and place in the sun to dry. Rinse. Still the ghost of red? Then allow to dry again, then dab a bit of kerosene on the stain and gently rub. Obviously you will definitely have to rinse after this but I hope this solves the problem. If not a more harsher bleaching treatment might be required, in our day we used to put in (quite) a bit of urine in to the soaking water. Today of course one can just buy actual bleach in a bottle. I suspect you might be the kind of individual to try the urine method first. But for goodness sake please make sure you don’t eat asparagus beforehand. Other handy hints for spot bleaching is to use onion or even hog manure instead of lemon, but citrus perfume versus faecal stench? If you succeed in removing the stain you can freshen the whole shirt by adding a touch of blue dye to the rinsing water.

I do hope you enjoy your laundry.
Your fellow in lye soap,
Miss April

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A narcissistic list of New Year’s resolutions for the superficial self.

The MOLAM blog authors have combined to offer some suggestions for this year’s resolutions. We hope you enjoy them!

1. Wear more lipstick.
2. Reduce sparkling wine intake.
3. Increase champagne intake.
4. Introduce a hat into one’s fashion repertoire.
5. Source the perfect scent to become one’s signature perfume.
6. Research obscure lyrical adjectives to create a more enigmatic vocabulary.
7. Memorise Baudelaire verses and inject into conversation wherever possible.
8. Post complete collection of shoes online.
9. Vocalise the constant internal battle between one’s virtuous and profane selves, as if it somehow makes one’s existence more profound.
10. Refuse to love oneself more for fear it will turn oneself into a hideous dullard.

We wish you a most prosperous 2013 whereby your existence and efforts create a happier and safer world for yourselves, your families, your neighbours, and the future. Happy New Year!!

Happy+New+Year+Currier+%26+Ives

Miss April Advises on Art Gallery Etiquette

Dear Readers,

As you may recall I responded recently to Distance Admirer in regard to issues concerning appropriate behaviour at public art exhibitions.

You can then, imagine my surprise and pleasure when I happened across wisdom from the ages which supported my general thesis. What was sound advice to the best American society in 1880 remains steadfastly appropriate for today’s art goers.

“In visiting picture-galleries one should always maintain the deportment of a gentleman or lady. Make no loud comments, and do not seek to show superior knowledge in art matters by gratuitous criticism. Ten to one, if you have not an art education you will only be giving publicity to your own ignorance.
Do not stand in conversation before a picture, and thus obstruct the view of others who wish to see rather than talk. If you wish to converse with any one on general subjects, draw to one side out of the way of those who wish to look at the pictures.”

Truly, commone sense prevails throughout the turning of ages. If only we heeded it well and more often!

Adieu fair readers, let common sense guide your way,
Miss April

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