Monday, May 09, 2005

crazy stories over birthday dinner


What's the plural of Elvis?

Normally with words ending with an 's', they become 'i' such as funghi, hippopotimi...Elvii?

But because it's a name, you don't exactly go round calling 2 girls named Claris 'Clarii' just because they're in the same room next to each other now do you? Just Claris-es.

But multiple Elvis-es aren't actually names per-se, they're a description of a movement. An entity if you will. They're Elvis Impersonators, not Elvis himself. (well, except for Elvis Costello- and he rocks- in more ways than one)

How did I get onto this?

I had another birthday dinner this week, this time at the Stokehouse along St Kilda beach.

A note for everyone: Overpriced, crappy service, average food, atmosphere wasn't really there. Maybe it's because we were in the galleys instead of hoity-toity and even more overpriced upstairs. I'd rather go to some of the places I've been eyeing off around St Kilda. Nice floor to ceiling glass panes facing the beach though.

We were celebrating EnglishRose's 30th, and as usual, it was a UN convention with every continent represented. Well, except Antarctica, but you knew that didn't you. While the food wasn't great, or even interesting, the company was both.

I finally got the chance to say more than one sentence to Ms SouthAfrica's boy (I'm calling them by countries now if I haven't already given them names- I'm too tired) and he's one cool dude. Let's call him Mr South Africa.

Apparently he did some artwork for murals in Melbourne Central (click here to view- he bases his women on MsSouthAfrica!), loves the Outre Gallery as much as I do, and is a former goth just like Ms SouthAfrica.

He also has tons of crazy stories he has to use props to tell.

Pictured here, is a re-enactment of how he nearly got killed by a horse in Monument Valley.

Derek's storytelling props

It's a great story to tell the gradkids.

Which got us onto crazy Vegas/Arizona/Utah/America-in-general things. Like UFO radio.

Or Hunting Channels. Like, what the hell is up with hunting channels? Sometimes, the guy doesn't even get the gazelle/deer/prey and he misses and the credits roll. WHAT THE HELL?

Or TVengelists. God Save Us from TVengelists.

So while on the subject, I told them about the time we were stuck in the middle of the highway because a turtle was crossing the road.


You read right.

A TURTLE. was crossing the road.

Apparently there are desert turtles in Nevada, and you can't touch them. So you simply have to wait for them to cross the road.

Don't get me wrong. Mr. Turtle was probably hurrying. Although it's difficult to say with turtles. I can't imagine why he wouldn't be though, if he was stuck there with bitumen underneath, fumes all around and a rather high chance of going splat.

So. It just so happened that there was a convenience store stuck in the middle of nowhere. And I. Mean. Nowhere.

It was just some sort of trailer hut looking thing. Weatherboard. Nothing around for at last 50 miles.

I walk in, buy something, push my change across the counter, and watch as a pudgy hand with too many rings suddenly pushes change across as well.

I follow pudgy hand to owner and almost squeak in shock. I'm pretty sure I literally jumped anyway. You know how people say they 'jumped' but they really only 'started'? Well, I'm pretty sure my feet left the ground.

Because, yup. Pudgy hand's owner was an Elvis Impersonator. White rhinestone studded suit, curry puff hair, dark sunglasses, leather cowboy boots.

Pushing changed across the counter at a convenience store in the middle of frigging nowhere.

Strange things happen in the desert I tell you.

Mr SouthAfrica nearly gets run over by a horse running with a pack of dogs, and I meet an Elvis in the middle of nowhere while waiting for a turtle to cross the road.

Then AllAmericanBlonde pipes up. "My dad watches the hunting channel"