Mitchell Hooter

Sydney, New South Wales, AUSTRALIA


Joined October 3rd 2007

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16

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Oxford Street--What Happened?

January 23rd 2008 01:46
What happened to Oxford Street?

Recently, the Sydney Morning Herald published the conclusions of a report lamenting the decline of Oxford Street. The report, commissioned by the City of Sydney, found that crime, alcohol-fuelled violence and gay-bashings are discouraging large sections of the public from visiting.

I’m not out late enough to be worried by any of the area’s crime. Sadly, lots of things discourage me from visiting even during the day. Things like:

• Beggars. The same sorry individuals eternally whining for your spare change after they’ve blown their dole money on booze and drugs. ‘Scuuuuuuuuse me……’
• Straight Male Wankers. Groups of open-shirted, gold-chained young men, intent on an evening of clubbing. Frequently pumped up on drugs, they stride down Oxford Street radiating angry, bristly machismo, ready to fistfight anyone who mistakenly assumes they’re gay. By the end of the evening, they’ll be too smashed to score the pussy that they came in search of. They will spend Monday morning at the used car yard where they work bragging about how much they vomited.
• Straight Female Wankers. Chattering nervously and wearing skimpy clothes even if they’re fat, these Paris Hilton wanna-bes can be spotted shrieking into their mobile phones and attempting to text message with their horrid fake fingernails. They will spend Monday tittering with their fellow shop assistants about the Straight Male Wankers who stared at their boobs/grabbed their arse/vomited on their designer handbag.
• Bad takeaway. Clubbers seeking sustenance at 3 a.m. after a boozy night tend not to be terribly choosy. Shrewd owners of fast-food outlets realise this, and start serving inferior-quality food. Anyway, the Straight Wanker crowd doesn’t have sophisticated food preferences even when they’re sober.

The report wistfully concluded that Oxford Street had ‘lost its mojo’. I agree. A more precise diagnosis might be that Oxford Street has become a victim of its own success. Oxford Street became known as a place that was edgy and interesting. Straight Wankers who want to be interesting, and think that being interesting is something that can be bought, began frequenting Oxford Street. Landlords, finding that it is more profitable to rent to high-volume businesses, raise rents. Small, unique businesses like The Pop Shop are forced out. Tawdry clubs flourish.

I still like Oxford Street. There aren’t many other places in Sydney where you can
do your weekly grocery shop at 11:00 pm. But I regret the passing of places like The Albury Hotel, which I first visited on a blistering summer day in 1994. My then-boyfriend, a Manly native who rarely ventured south of the Bridge, took us in for a beer, not realising it was a gay venue. The pretty bartender handed my boyfriend his change, then squeezed his hand and winked suggestively.

My boyfriend and I had a laugh. We realised that were out of place, but knew we were welcome. My boyfriend wasn’t offended by the gay pass. The gay bartender wasn’t annoyed that a straight couple came into a gay business. Could a similar scenario happen now? I don’t think so, and it makes me sad.

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Be a Sydney Real Estate Copywriter!

January 15th 2008 07:15
Be a Sydney Real Estate Copywriter!
Sick of unpaid blogging? Sydney’s booming housing market offers a career opportunity for writing enthusiasts. Take a look at your local realo’s printed glossy advertising vehicle, or domain.com. You don’t even need a command of English to crank out this kind of copy—one ad boasted that the unit was located in a ‘sort-after’ area—just an affinity for frogshit.

I nearly choked on my coffee when I spotted an ad for the North Sydney rental dump I used to live in. The author shows an astounding talent for euphemisms and flowery adjectives worthy of Mills & Boon.

Why should someone else get paid to do this? Why not me? I’ve decided to give it a try…

Rooty Hill ambience, Liberal voter postcode!

Late Victorian gem, chopped into three flats by an enterprising landlord with a passion for DIY and a jones for illegal wiring.

Nestled between the shabby gentility of Flat 1 (sweeping view of blocks of flats with sweeping harbour views) and the edgy cool of Flat 3 (al fresco shower and loo in weed-choked courtyard), Flat 2 offers the discerning tenant the following prestige amenities:

•Vintage kitchen appliances: H.G. Palmer fridge featuring solid ice block freezer compartment; Metters Slimline stove with ornamental toaster tray, non-functional burners, and heritage bits of dried egg
•Wall-to-wall carpet in trendy Rental Brown; bathroom tiles in Barf Camouflage
•70s Orgasmatron shower unit drains freely into the sewer, without the encumbrance of a water seal. During hot showers, the odour of steaming effluvia adds an exotic Calcutta vibe to this charming retro element
•Handy proximity to Kirribilli’s premium-priced eateries
•Nearby coffee shops with outside tables offer ample opportunities for public preening
•Distinguished demographic: from the P.M. in Kirribilli House, to the colourful denizens of Greenway Public Housing, to the wanker who roars down Carabella Avenue in his red Ferrari, this neighbourhood truly has it all!

A short stroll to the Telstra payphone, the Australia Post box, and all the varied pleasures of this enviably chic and oh-so-exclusive area. Ring 0400 SUC KER for a guided tour. (Those with impeccable references need only enquire.)
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You would think that Kirribilli, with its proximity to the Harbour Bridge, would be the perfect spot to spend New Year's Eve. It is, if you have a unit with a harbour-facing balcony. But in years past, I've often had to batten down the hatches of my ground-floor unit, stay indoors, and miss the fireworks. Why?

--Throngs of bogans clogging the trains and ferries
--Bogan single mothers with two or three screaming children in tow
--Drunken bogans throwing/smashing/pissing into their empty beer bottles
--Aggro/drug-affected bogans swearing/leering/disrobing

God, how I envied the champagne-sipping yuppie snots perched on their balconies, watching the fireworks far above the unruly proles.

This year was different. Police blocked off the neighbourhood and performed bag searches, letting no BYO alcohol or glass into the area after noon. Kirribilli was crowded, but not dangerously so. And the crowds were generally well-behaved. Three North Americans did climb on top of the Beulah Street ferry shelter, strip to their shorts, and jump into the Harbour to the cheers of their fellow travellers, but no one got hurt. One tipsy young man was loudly recounting some sexual adventures, but when he caught my eye, he apologised and wished me a happy new year.

I watched the nine o'clock and the midnight fireworks from different vantage points near the water--one with a view of the Opera House, one with a view of the Bridge. Between the two observation points, I got a complete view of the show without being squashed in a crowd.

New Year's morning, there were a few broken bottles and some rubbish, but this was easy to ignore. An atmosphere of celebration and goodwill lingered. Fitness buffs wished me a happy new year as they jogged past my front verandah as I sipped my first coffee of 2008.

Where were you on NYE? Was it good? Bad? Overrated?
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Bad Managers in Sydney--Part Three

December 31st 2007 12:40
Bad Managers in Sydney—Part Three

Bridie O’Wiggie, Operations Manager


[ Click here to read more ]
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NYPD Pizza, Oxford St--Bring it Back!

December 22nd 2007 06:56
NYPD New York Style Pizza & Hotdogs, come back!

Another great hole-in the wall eatery has disappeared, and Sydney is the poorer for it


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Shopfast--I give up!
When I started using Shopfast in 1999, they were great. Buy your groceries online, and pay only six dollars to have all your stuff delivered. For someone like me, who does not drive and buys lots of bottled water, it was a godsend. No more schlepping back and forth to the neighbourhood grocery with a little upright trolley, which for some reason, made people eye me with curiosity and/or suspicion. The trolley was wire, red, and purchased at a two-dollar shop in Marrickville--there was nothing inherently threatening about it. I guess the problem was that people associate trolleys with (a) stooped little old ladies carting crates of cat food back to their flat, (b) Asians going to and from Paddy's Markets, and (c) derros wheeling around their filthy blankets, newspaper clipping collections, and casks of Arkansas Jed's Fire Eagle Piss. The spectacle of a young, healthy person pulling a trolley down the footpath screams "WEIRDO" in the mind of most Australians.

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Bad Managers in Sydney--Part Two

December 5th 2007 09:10
Mr Bakayaro, the most disgusting Japanese I have ever met

Mr Bakayaro was the owner and manager of a tiny human resources agency that, theoretically, specialised in the placement of Japanese speakers. I say ‘theoretically’ because in my two months there, we never actually placed anybody. The other four employees of Bakayaro Pty Ltd speculated that his family in Japan were embarrassed by him and paid him to stay away, or perhaps were yakuza using him to launder money


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Bad Managers in Sydney--Part One

November 15th 2007 08:36
You’ve probably worked for at least one or two bad managers. Here’s my first snapshot of a manager I’ve had the misfortune to work for in Sydney:

Bad Manager #1
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Points of Passion--Part Seven

October 21st 2007 02:46
Points of Passion—Part Seven

In the exciting climax, Kellyville homeowner Cade must make a choice. Will it be Riana, credit card reward points, and a McMansion? Or HOOTER, her cat o’nine tails, and an inner-West dungeon


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Points of Passion--Part Six

October 20th 2007 05:03
Points of Passion—Part Six

In the last episode, Riana surrendered her virtue to a series of truck drivers in exchange for transport from Kellyville to Camperdown. As Cade luxuriated in a bondage session, Riana plotted to wrench him from the arms of HOOTER, a dominatrix with no respect for marriage, property, or credit card reward points. A confrontation looms


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Recent Comments

Comment by Mitchell Hooter
on Be a Sydney Real Estate Copywriter!

January 17th 2008 11:06
No need to take umbrage, Anonymous. I'm just jealous. I applied for a job as a real estate copywriter and they didn't hire me because I didn't have my own car. I also failed the drug test.

Comment by Mitchell Hooter
on Seahorses ahead: Proceed with caution

December 25th 2007 08:54
Thanks for the advice. I've resisted the urge to get an aquarium and some seahorses. Guess I'll settle for a seahorse tattoo.

I think I've blocked out the memory of the worst gifts I ever received. Many NY Times readers have better recall; check out their 'worst Xmas gift' stories on the link below. I haven't laughed so hard all week.

Really Long Link

Wait, I remember one gift that was pretty bad. When I was ten, my Southern (U.S.) grandmother, who couldn't wait for me to hit my teenage years and become a miniature flirt/beauty queen/Scarlett O'Hara/debutante, bought me an expensive purple and red patterned bikini. Fine, except that it was intended for a babe with a 36-24-36 figure, not a tween with no curves but plenty of puppy fat. When I finally wore it to the pool (over the protests of my furious mother), I noticed two teenage lifeguards laughing at me behind their hands. I looked down at my chest--one of the moulded bikini bra cups was dented inwards.

Comment by Mitchell Hooter
on NYPD Pizza, Oxford St--Bring it Back!

December 23rd 2007 06:33
Hi, Stanley.
Yes, it is a shame. Do you remember the guy (bi-polar, I think) who danced with a boom box on Oxford St and helped out at NYPD? Just by chance I saw him today, way down on Crown St, Surry Hills, going into a menswear store across from the Crown Hotel. He looked like he was doing all right.

Comment by Mitchell Hooter
on Is Pregnancy Contagious?

December 15th 2007 09:03
I agree with Mr Nice Guy and think it's a disgusting trend. I don't know which is worse--celebs who give birth to their own little fashion accessories, or those who buy kids from poor, third-world women. I was excoriated once in an online forum for refusing to coo over Angelina Jolie's penchant for purchasing small children as if they were handbags. 'Look at Mia Farrow,' I said. The other participants said that I was obviously a Very Unhappy Woman who can't stand people who are happy. I don't think they knew who Mia Farrow is. (Woody Allen, Soon-yi Previn, remember?)

Comment by Mitchell Hooter
on Where are the red blooded men?

November 15th 2007 08:51
Who says you have to be part of a couple to be happy? I'm a happily married woman, but I must admit that I can't do a lot of things that I used to.
Here is my advice:
1. Sell your TV set. I've been TV-free for 13 years. TV is one of the main sources of the 'marriage equals happiness' lie.
2. Don't buy women's magazines. All do is hurt your self-esteem by urging you to compare yourself with Photoshopped fifteen-year-olds and telling you that you have to buy this dress or that mascara to be attractive to men.
3. Enjoy one-night-stands for what they are and don't expect them to lead anywhere.
4. Don't have rigid rules or 'standards' about what sort of man you want.
5. Above all--R-E-L-A-X.
6. Enjoy your single life while you can. Once you're married, you'll occasionally be nostalgic for it!

Comment by Mitchell Hooter
on Top Twenty Beaut Aussie Movies

October 25th 2007 09:25
A few more I loved:

Kenny -- I know a real-life Kenny. The next time I visit Melbourne, I'm going to take the train to Werribee because that's where Kenny always has to go.

Praise -- The performances by the lead male actor (can't remember his name), Sacha Horler, and Tex Perkins in a bit part were all impressive. The movie is also more tightly structured than the book.

Careful, He Might Hear You -- The actor who played Logan (John Hargreaves, I think) has to be the most gorgeous man alive. Wendy Hughes was the perfect choice to play Vanessa. I couldn't believe it when I saw her in the trailer for a porno--Wild Orchid 2.

Welcome to Woop Woop -- Everybody hated this movie, except me. Daddy-O's line, "YOU END UP WITH RUNTS!" had me screaming with laughter.

Bliss -- I did not understand this movie (it probably would help to read the novel), but it had some excellent performances and great one-liners. "YOU DIRTY BASTARD, YOU'VE BEEN EATING GARLIC!" / "Harry thought the police had let him go because he'd been good." There was also a line from a character who was dying of cancer--he complained that his friends come to visit, and just sit by the bed and stare at him.
Could someone explain the scene where the little boys wearing uniforms want to see a ginger candy factory, are scolded by a stern woman wearing glasses and a severe suit, and then carried away by two strapping Navy sailors? This went straight over my head.

Comment by Mitchell Hooter
on Top Twenty Beaut Aussie Movies

October 25th 2007 01:32
Another one of my favourites is Horseplay, a sharp, fast-paced comedy loosely based on the Robbie Waterhouse 'Fine Cotton' scandal. It didn't get a very long run in the theatres, unfortunately.

Couldn't make up my mind about One Night the Moon with Paul Kelly. Seemed to fall into the usual P.C. trap of 'Aborigines=good, White Australians=bad.'

Has anyone seen Popcorn, with Kaarin Fairfax? It was released in 1995, I think, and I didn't get a chance to see it.

Comment by Mitchell Hooter
on Dull film titles...

October 23rd 2007 01:20
I rather liked the title "The Assassination of Jesse James..." I think the length of the title made it sound old-fashioned and appropriate to the subject. But then, I'm a direct descendant of Jesse James's brother Frank James, so I'm biased. Haven't seen the film yet, but I plan to.

Comment by Mitchell Hooter
on Top Twenty Beaut Aussie Movies

October 20th 2007 05:18
I'm a dual citizen of America and Australia, and I think Australian films are averagely much more interesting than U.S. movies.

I love Picnic at Hanging Rock and don't understand why it's sneered at by so many snobby film types. A recent Australian movie on my list would be The Jammed--made with a very low budget with a cast of unknowns. I'd rather see new talent than a bunch of over-exposed Hollywood stars.

A funny one that I saw on video was Dags--a mock-anthropological study of various suburban Aussie 'types'. Very amusing.