MAN ABOUT TOWN

This is my belated post for the Vampire blog-a-thon , created and reanimated by him we call "The Master", but who is known to most as Nathaniel, and whose place of unhallowed rest is The Film Experience . Vampires have long been a symbol of unrestrained and rampant sexuality, both in literature and cinema. Scenes such as those where Dracula's brides accost Jonathan Harker in Transylvania, as described by Bram Stoker in his 1897 novel Dracula , perfectly encapsulate both a Victorian sensibility and a sense of dangerously unrestrained sexuality: "They whispered together, and then they all three laughed, such a silvery, musical laugh, but as hard as though the sound never could have come through the softness of human lips. It was like the intolerable, tingling sweetness of waterglasses when played on by a cunning hand. The fair girl shook her head coquettishly, and the other two urged her on... I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw perfectly und...

Quite how it's eventuated I don't know (actually that's a lie, its because the Breakfasters' weren't able to work around her schedule, as far as I know) I'm interviewing none other than the Housewife Superstar herself, Dame Edna Everage tomorrow morning at 3RRR. To say I'm flabbergasted would be an understatement - I'm also awed, jubilant, and rather bloody nervous. Wish me luck, people! As always, suggestions as to pertinent interview questions are always welcome...

Fancy dress. Humphrey Bogart. Empathy and literary friends. A remarkably quick recovery from a charmingly messy evening. Sunshine. Andrew Denton's God On My Side . Remarkable hair. Lucid lunatics. Scripture-spouting puppets. The Rapture Index . End times. A walk through the park. Teenage girls dancing on the lawn beneath the elm trees before collapsing in a giggling heap. The distant drone of an aeroplane. A lazy Sunday afternoon. What's not to like about weekends?

My sister just sent me this. I have no idea if it's real or rigged, but it's kinda cute either way.

I'm pre-recording an interview with the director of SHORTBUS and HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH tomorrow night. Any of you lot got any bright questions you'd like me to ask him?

How would you like to be initimated and harrassed by airport security, just for wearing a t-shirt? That's what happened to Raed Jarrar, a US architect of Iraqi descent back in August. I've only just found out about this incident courtesy of gay blog Debriefing the Boys . Matt's now planning to buy one of these t-shirts in reaction to the incident: I AM NOT A TERRORIST The same company make a couple of other cool designs, such as one that declares the wearer to be an 'Enemy Combatant'. I think it might be time to do a spot of on-line shopping, don't you?

...with Captain Jack Harkness (gay actor John Barrowman), the bisexual, time-travelling rogue who first appeared in the new series of Dr Who written by Queer As Folk creator Russel T Davies. Last night the first episode of the new Dr Who spin-off Torchwood , about the secret organisation led by Captain Jack in modern-day Cardiff, Wales, made its debut in the UK to a record audience of 2.4 million viewers. Isn't he dreamy? ;-)

This video from a Dutch kids' TV show has been doing the rounds for a while, but I finally just found the time to watch it, and found myself crying happily as I did. Yes, it's a touch sacharine, but it's also heartfelt, lovely and beautiful.

Last month I blogged about the brutal bashing and sexual assault of a 60 year old man at Victoria Park, a Ballarat beat. Well, there's been another two attacks with exactly the same modus operandi, with a group of four men attacking another man at Victoria Park, and another only an hour later at Black Hill Lookout last Thursday. This time though, there's some good news. I've just spoken to the Ballarat police, who tell me they've arrested two men aged 18 and 19, and two minors over the assaults. One other offender is still at large. I'll update once I know any more about the outcomes of this story.

Not content with asking you to help me decypher my dreams, now I'd like your help with my weekly club Q + A please, dear Blogsphere. As some of you may know, almost 11 years ago a couple of mates and I set up a club called Queer + Alternative as a reaction to the mainstream gay scene, which never played any of the sorts of bands that we were into. Over a decade later Q + A is still going strong, and this year we've been nominated as one of Melbourne's best weekly clubs in the 'one nighter' category of the annual R a i n b o w Awards. Want to help me stack the voting in the best branch-stacking tradition of any political party you care to name? You do? Hurrah! All you have to do is go here , register, and vote away - I'd also recommend voting for Troy Gurr from MCV in the Media category, and Claire Jackson from the Queer Film Festival in Woman of the Year, but that's entirely up to you. It should only take you a couple of minutes to complete. Remember, a...

Earlier this morning, enjoying a sleep-in on my first day off for a while, I dreamt about these nasty little buggers, the South American fish candiru ( Vandellia cirrhosa ). If you haven't heard of them before, they're a species of fish reputed to be capable of detecting urine in the water, and following to its source. Should that be you, foolishly skinny-dipping in the Amazon and having a piss at the same time, the frolicking candiru them swims up your urethra , imbeds itself in your body courtesy of spines in its gills, and begins to drink your blood. Charming, hey? Sounds rather like a member of the National Party... The point of this post, though folks, is to ask for your assistance in interpreting this dream! What, pray tell, does it all mean? Please make your suggestions below, via the usual comments function. Over to you!

The last two nights have seen me take the phone off the hook, refuse to respond to work-related e-mails, open a couple of bottles of red, and generally relax. Fuck it's been good. I've also launched into my own mini queer film festival, catching up on a couple of DVD's I recently ordered through Amazon, as well as Hedwig and the Angry Inch , which I picked up on DVD on the weekend as a consequence of having seen the stage play recently. It was Donald who urged me to watch the DVD of Hedwig , specifically because of the feature-length 'history of Hedwig' doco that's one of the extras on the disc. Whoooooooo! Talk about excellent - it adds so much more to the film, and having already loved the show, learning more about it was an utter delight. Thanks for the tip, mate. So last night, having watched the doco, I watched the film again too, this time with a new eye for details such as the Titanic mural that's in the background in one scene, and the Riverview Hot...

Thanks to Twitch , I just discovered my new Number One most eagerly anticipated film of summer: the French comedy Poltergay . " It is, no doubt, every young couple's worst nightmare. You move into your new home, a magnificent old mansion, only to discover that - horror of horrors - it is haunted. But not just any old haunting. No, your new home is haunted by the spirits of disco dancing homosexuals from the 1970s." How could this not be excellent? Those of you who are fluent in French will probably want to go to the official site in order to learn more. Why, oh why did I not study harder in Year Eight Language Studies in 1980? Merde!

Woke this morning hangover free after being ridiculously well-behaved at last night's Fringe artists' party, dished the dirt in my Beat column, then headed off to work at MCV , revelling in the fact that I'm back to being the News Editor after a stressful two weeks as Acting Editor. Dappled sunlight shone down through the vivid leaves of the elms in the Fitzroy Gardens. The sky was a deep, clear blue. A handsome shirtless lad driving a ute grinned back at me when I smiled at him at the Hoddle Street traffic lights. I have no committments for the next two nights, and plan to relax, unwind, and start enjoying life again. Ladies and gentlemen, it's officially good to be alive!

At least so says the badge I picked up tonight at the Is Not party - and what a splendid party it was. There were bloggers, poets, designers, radio folks, publishers, editors, madcap dancers, musos, involved discussions about the political subtext of zombie films, newly engaged friends, and a total absence of mysterious, witty and seductive gentlemen making eyes at me. Ah well, you can't have everything I suppose. Probably a good thing too - otherwise I should become jaded.** ** This message brought to you by a 100% totally not jaded Man About Town , who is about to saunter down to a nearby bar and position himself attractively in a corner. Wish me luck - or at least no hangover tomorrow!

I can't recall when I first heard about John Cameron Mitchell's new film, Shortbus . I picked up on vague mutterings about it a year or two ago , but nothing really registered until earlier this year, when the finished film screened at Cannes. That's when the buzz - not to mention the vague sense of moral outrage among some pundits - about this new film from the writer and director of Hedwig and the Angry Inch really caught my attention. Shortbus is the most sexually explicit drama to come out of the USA, and features real sex instead of carefully choreographed simulations. Having advertised for people prepared to have get their gear off - and get off - in front of the camera, Mitchell slowly assembled a cast, and with them, workshoped their characters. Such characters include former child star Jamie (P J DeBoy) and his depressed boyfriend James (Paul Dawson), who are considering opening up their five year relationship to new partners; sex therapist Sofia (Sook-Yin Lee) w...

As in, "a picture says...." Welcome to the state of my head. Please close the door - quietly - on your way out.

Just as we suspect ladies and gentlemen - it's too terrible for words - oh won't someone think of the children?!

Two more shows last night - although I almost didn't go to either of them because soon after I got home from work I burst into tears for no readily apparent reason (general tiredness and stress I think). After sobbing on the couch for half an hour, I roused myself, and started walking to North Melbourne, and was lucky enough to score a lift with Sol, my favourite vet in the world, and Keating! producer extraordinaire Catherine Woodfield from Rathdowne Street onwards. Thanks guys. I then saw some much needed comedy, which cheered me up no end: Stephen K. Amos The Lithuanian Club until Saturday 14 Effortlessly engaging with the audience, the smoothly talented Stephen K Amos seemed to spent most of his time improvising in this show, although I'm suere there was a lot of scripted material in there as well; it was just difficult to tell where it started and stopped, and where the improv took over. I was sitting in the front row, but was very clearly not picked on, as I'd chatte...

Mr Monkey Jedi (no relation to Mr Monkey Punch Dinosaur ) has tagged me. So, in case you don't yet know me well enough... My earliest memory is… My mum hunging out wet sheets on the clothesline when I was about 3 years old, the sheets flapping and billowing against the blue sky. At high school I… hid in the library in order to avoid being bashed up (it didn't work). My first relationship was… not until I was 25. I wish I’d never worn… drag. My mother told me… that Mother's Day was a capitalist plot. I wish I had... the ability to budget and save/a good memory for names/a boyfriend. My most humiliating moment was... my so-called best friend humiliating me in front of a bunch of mates in Year 9 by pouring a bucket of cow shit over me. At home I cook… Cook? I'm sorry, I don't understand this concept. Please explain. My last meal would be… Mum's homemade roast lamb with all the trimmings. I’m very bad at… saying no to new projects. When I was a child… I w...