Email To My 17-Year-Old Self – A Podcast

Guys, what if you found yourself having a conversation by email with yourself at the ripe old age of seventeen? What advice would you offer the much younger you? Would you warn of life’s turning points, caution against future problems to come? Would you tell teenage you, stories of how love goes horribly wrong? Maybe not, perhaps you’ll let 17 year-old-you alone without interference from older more experienced you?

This is the dilemma I found myself struggling with as I sat down to write and record my brand new podcast, Email To My 17-Year-Old Self. I hope you enjoy my dilemma.  Life was much easier when you were 17-years-old? Wasn’t it?

Email To My 17-Year-Old Self on YouTube

Email To My 17 -Year-Old Self on Podbean

About the author – Noel Anderson has worked in film and theatre and is currently adapting his play Sammy and Dave into a film, about two bisexual-married men who rendezvous for a one night stand. Based on a true story.


A Bullet to the Head

Fabiana Weiner as Edie Fabiana Weiner as Edie

Extract from Andy Warhol’s Fifteen Minutes of Fame
By Noel Anderson


WOMAN 1 enters with dark glasses, smoking and drinking. A director’s chair with star written on the back is on Stage.

WOMAN 1: Hi. I’m Andy’s it-girl. Where should I sit? Andy?

No one answers. She smokes and drinks.WOMAN 1: Okay. Screen-test. Sedgwick. Nov 16th. Andy’s factory. Action


WOMAN 1: Talk. Hmmm, I’d like to discuss on camera, a bullet to the head. Now, if you took a bullet to the brain would, or would you not, be conscious of being shot? I say you would not be conscious, because the damage happens very fucking fast, too fast for your brain to realize it’s been hit. I don’t know this for a fact because it isn’t really my thing, I’m not a gun crazy kinda girl, my thing is really suicide. Accidental suicide! Of course there are many ways to die, hanging is one, the electric chair is another, and a bullet is another again. Not all deaths are accidents though! That’s why you hire a wound–ballistics-expert, that’s when you’re an expert on gunshot wounds to the body. Right! That’s right, right? Andy? Andy’s not talking anymore today. Oh, is that right? Come out from behind that camera Andy! Come out come out wherever you are!

She takes out a small bag of pills.

WOMAN 1: Left? No. I’m his voice from now on, yes. I do all the TV interviews and the talk shows…whatever… Turn to the camera, right? Red light on! So, where was I then, bullets…if you should happen to take a bullet say while shopping at Tiffany’s, then you have, and this is important, about a 50/50 chance of surviving. Not everyone dies from fucking head injuries no matter how badly shot. So, killing people, shooting them dead, may not be the answer because they might live anyway. I’d try and talk to them first. Try a little kindness. Andy agrees, don’t you? But, it also import…important to note a bullet wound will not necessarily damage consciousness. That’s the point I’m trying to make on the show tonight. Like if I was a soldier, at war, Vietnam, right? And, I was shot. Well, head wounds are not necessarily good to get, are they? I’ve studied this.. I’ve been in lots of hospitals! It’s not good to get shot because it just fucks up your day (She laughs) Okay, I nursed my brother when he died, suicide, and I did read a book on combat fatalities. I found it lying on the Factory floor. The cat had pissed on it. (She laughs) Gee, that lights getting bright? Can we turn one off? Andy? Andy? Can we turn one down? He’s not talking I forgot. Dumb me. I…it’s worth remembering…remembering that trauma…that trauma can happen to anybody. Blood loss is a key…is the key. (She laughs) Did you know…we have 6 litres of blood, the internal artery clears about a quarter of a litre per minute, and in stressful situation, like, being shot, or squeezing into a size ten dress, then that output can double. If we lose just 20% of our blood, then we lose consciousness. Amazing…but, I’ve got to stop rolling, I mean filming because I’m not feeling so well, well informed. My head is fragmented, like someone has pushed a missile through and out the other side. What’s happening? Can we dim the studio lights – please? Andy I think I need a neurosurgeon and some fucking “digital palpation” What do you mean Ms Sedgwick anything wrong?

She stands shaking.

WOMAN 1: Wrong? Jesus Christ, it’s a complicated, man. It’s a medical term for sticking your fingers in and wiggling them about. Stop the camera. Please stop the fucking camera. Where’s the audience? I’m sorry my skull just shattered. Applause!

She falls to the floor.

WOMAN 1: Golly Edie. What about a Kronlien shot to the head? I don’t know what you mean, sir. Can’t you see I’m shutting down. What do you mean it’s the shot that splits open the skull…but neatly ejects the whole brain on the ground like a neat pile of dog shit. Bright! Bright!

She takes a handful of pills and drinks.

WOMAN 1: Ciao Manhattan, I’m shutting down. I’m done. No really…I’m done. Cut. Turn off the camera. Consciousness before death… it’s simply not guaranteed.

She slumps back in the chair, and drops a bottle of pills on the floor.


Love Kills 2017 @melbfringe

Have you ever been in love? Did it end well? Maybe you’ve had a fling in Bali that you can’t forget or fantasized about an ex lover while being massaged by a hunky masseur?

‘Do all breakups make you feel like you’ve been reassigned?’

Love Kills 2017 is the new show devised and directed by Noel Anderson (Andy Warhol’s Fifteen of Fame, TV series ‘NEXT’ season 1 & 2, ‘Travellers in Time’ music video) that dares to tell the truth about love, warts and all.

‘Love means never saying sorry’

Nine of Melbourne’s best indie writers and lonely hearts, and seven performers will bring their considerable experience and clout to the Melbourne Fringe 2017 with a performance on Smith Street in Collingwood, that will make you laugh, question love (the whole damn thing) and entertain.

‘To be honest it wasn’t the best sex in my life’

“Love is something we’ve all gotten wrong a couple times, right?” Anderson said. “Love Kills 2017 looks at those moments in our love life when everything goes bloody pear-shaped, romance is dead and we end up a lovesick mess.”

‘He kisses me, I let him embrace me and two days later we emerge from the bedroom, hungry and reenergised’

Leading the team of writers for Love Kills 2017 is Melbourne indie theatre stalwart, Kieran Carroll (Sons of Sun – Sydney Opera House, A Fitzroy Romance – La Mama and The Truth is Longer Than a Lie published by Black Pepper Press ), along with Tracie Lark, Ros Lewis, Marion Roberts,  Melaka Stanash, Ursula Teresa Kolecki, Lourdes Zamanillo, Geoff Stuart, Melissa Collins and Noel Anderson.

‘I married her. At 21 we moved into a bedsit in West Melbourne. I won’t pretend that monogamy wasn’t an issue’

‘A Kylie Minogue pop inspired breakup piece’

The cast for Love Kills 2017 features Caroline Ferguson (direct from La Mama’s 2017 hit The Privatization of Ward 9B), Graham Murray (Glitch 2 & Miss Fisher Murder Mysteries), Carissa McAllen (Paper Giants: Magazine Wars), Stephanie Osztreicher, Lourdes Zamanillo, Ros Lewis and Noel Anderson performing his Kylie Minogue pop inspired breakup piece ‘Confide in Me.’

‘I stand before you ready to share my secrets’

The Love Kills 2017 team know the truth about love is out there somewhere in Collingwood this September, and with a little help from you they are determined to find it! Only @melbfringe.  See you at there! #lovekills2017 #confideinme #randyandy42

Tickets via or (03) 9660 9666

Love Kills 2017 only at Melb Fringe

Love Kills 2017 – Caz Reitop’s Dirty Secrets (best venue winner) – 80 Smith St, Collingwood. 14th – 23rd Sept, 2017. Performance Times: Wed – Thurs 7pm, Friday 6pm, Sat 5.30pm.  Seven performances only (bookings essential) 14th Sept Preview $20 / all other performances $25. Warning adult themes and strong language.

Love Kills 2017 on Facebook

Interviews & Contact Info: or (03) 90770781 (leave a message)

‘Checkout our Love Kills 2017 trailer below and remember to subscribe to my YouTube Channel’ – Love always Noel xxx



Playing Cupid On The Addictive Webseries NEXT…

NEXT…is coming to a phone near you!  In August 2015 I was as sick as a dog while directing a new musical at Theatreworks. I was running a high fever, but still doing everything I could to help the show along…new Australian work is a hard sell particularly to industry music lovers and general public. A strange air had crept into production week that was disappointing and made me ponder why anyone would bother creating new work for the Oz stage, particularly me.  Maybe I should be working in a shop selling mobile phones? At interval on preview night, I grabbed a glass of wine from the foyer bar, still crook, I made polite chit chat to a film crew who were there filming the work of another member of my team, when a man came up to me called Rob Lobosco… Rob had won his theatre tickets in a online competition and thought my direction was very good, and asked if I’d like to direct a web series called NEXT…about the perils of internet dating.  Although at the time I didn’t know the name of the series and I must admit, I thought nothing would come of it…but here I am now talking about the webseries NEXT… During the shoot of NEXT in August, I snapped a lot of pictures and recorded a few of my thoughts. So this is my image diary of our shooting days. I hope you like it and remember to subscribe Rob Lobosco Productions on YouTube and the NEXT… Facebook site.

Much love Noel x

Webseries Next… Like Us On Facebook


‘On the set of NEXT the new addictive webseries. The laundromat is the lead character’s home away from home. It’s almost a lead character too’

‘I had to put the web series NEXT on like a coat before I could direct it, then I had to ask myself  why this script had found it’s way to me. Once I understood that, it all happened organically’ Director Noel Anderson 30/8/2016

Noel’s diary 20/8/2016 – Saturday’s rehearsal went well, I have to make sure I handle the script with care, Aussie comedy is as hard as hell to direct! Harder than Shakespeare’

NEXT…About the perils of online dating…and the dangers of balancing a clapperboard on your head (Joke!)

‘Are we going to see the band or what doctor? Come on, I’ve put my red gloves on specially’

Lights! Camera! Action! PINS IN! NEXT…

‘Why did the crew say yes to doing the addictive web series NEXT…? Maybe they were expecting to find something more than wine in the cellar’

It’s all about the girls…? And the wig and clapperboard too!

‘Penny give me your mobile phone. I’ve got a dating problem! – Tobias in NEXT’

Online dating can be fun on set! Okay who is NEXT…?

‘There is nothing better than a great Australian comedy with good Aussie actors. It’s as original as comedy gets’ – Director Noel Anderson a23/8/2016

Noel’s diary 24/8/2016  ‘I guess it’s all about love, mobile phones, and giving life your best shot. That’s NEXT!’

NEXT… Starring Robert Lobosco, Lee McClenaghan, Sandra Casa, Katherine Louise Grinshaw…Directed by Noel Anderson

NEXT… Trailer for your enjoyment!

Now on Amazon Prime

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Noel Anderson has directed too many theatrical productions, performed as a Ghostbuster in shopping centres, written well into the night when in pain, worked with a helluva lot of people and had the odd breakdown. He believes in the power of pop music and Campbell’s Soup. Noel’s written work includes Hello Little Man (Melbourne Writer’s Social Anthology 2016), Kylie Kastle Throws A Party (performed in schools across the country), Germ Warfare, The Carer, Andy Warhol’s Fifteen Minutes Of Fame and the new Australian musical Audrey Hepburn And I Consider Our Assets  (  ) which premiered at the Melba Spiegeltent on 29th October 2015. Noel is currently working on his first feature film Sammy and Dave, and a music video for Audrey and I called ‘Travellers In Time.’ You can follow Noel on Twitter: @Randyandy42 or

Noel is a member of the Melbourne Writer’s Social


In a revealing interview with Harlequin Ink Reporter and part-time comedian Larry Bird, newly appointed supermarket manager Zayeeb Dash talks candidly about food, shopping and his fetish for fruit.
Harlequin Ink: Hi Zayeeb…first up is where were you born? And, what most do you like about living in the most livable city in the world, Melbourne?
Zayeeb: I was born in Goa which is a Portuguese colony in India, situated on the West Coast…which is why I have adopted West Coast Eagles as my footy team! Living in Oz…I like the spunky women, Footy and of course the Tram Restaurant.
Harlequin: If you could be anyone or anything what would you be?
Zayeeb: I have never wanted to be anyone but I wouldn’t mind if i woke up one day and had turned into a ripe, plump avocado.  I have a fetish for fruit and vegables you know. I would also love to be the meat between a Delta and Jessie J sandwich…that is all.
Harlequin: Okay…so you fancy yourself as a ladies man?
Zayeeb: No, not at all. But I’ve watched every season of ‘The Voice’…and, I can yodel a couple of Jimmy Barnes numbers. Did you want to hear yodel?
Harlequin. No…Now, Zayeeb this a tough one. Where is the best place to shop in town?
Zayeeb: Oh, that is tuff…Hmmm. I reckon the most beautiful food and fashion can probably, but not necessarily found on the most iconic street, in the most livable city…Springvale Rd, Glen Waverley.
Harlequin: Well, yes…I see you point!
Zayeeb: And, I see yours Harlequin…yes I do!
Harlequin: Thank you Zayeeb. Do you follow politics?
Zaybeeb: Not much, but I am fascinated why a Speedo lovin’ budgie smuggler would be allowed to run this country! Surely Aussie Bums would do a better job.
Harlequin: If you could be king for a day what is the first thing you’d do?
Zayeeb: I would definitely take all my friends on the Tram Restaurant where my cousin works. He tosses a mean fruit salad and his rum ball ain’t bad either.
Harlequin: What’s the best thing about managing a supermarket?
Zayeeb: The many perks; A gold name badge, more pay, and best of all, it’s was what I was born to do. After all, the qualities of my name as stated by the great Google are “Born Leader and Determined.” You know Harlequin Ink.. I am still trying to understand the culture of Australia. Like what is a ‘True Blue Aussie.’ This country is so big …and yet I am constantly told there is not enough to go around. Let me share for a moment, when I shared a bedroom with my 4 brothers and 5 sisters growing up, we all fitted in one bed perfectly, head to toe…and the bath water reminded us of the Ganges.
Harlequin: Musical theatre love or loathe it?
I love Musical Theatre, as I love to sing, dance and yodel. When I was at school, I yodeled the entire lead role in Mahatma Mia! And I was encouraged to yodel and audition for Goa’s Got Talent. Unfortunately this carrot didn’t make it through the first round but I did not give up my dream of being a supermarket manager.
Harlequin Ink: Anything else you’d like to tell our readers?
Zayeeb: (He ponders for a moment) No…but, I do cook a cheeky butter chicken you know!

Price Check Talks Curry written by Grant Durham and Noel Anderson

Larry Bird Episode 5 – The Dead Comic Mystery

The first dead comic turned up bright and early one Sunday morning in June, June 7th to be exact…dead cold in Alma Park, which is a short twenty minute tram ride from Melbourne’s CBD. A jogger in red and white shorts discovered the man’s body around 7am on his second lap of the footy oval when he stopped to tie a shoe lace.
The body was lying face down head turned towards the railway lines, curiously to the left. He had a smile on his face as if he’d died in a fit laugher. Close to the man’s head, a breath away from his silly grin, was a malurus cyaneus, commonly known a blue wren, also as dead as a donut. The bird and the man made an odd couple on the embankment that sunny winter’s morning. Looking down the jogger kicked at the bird with his running shoe just as the Sandringham train sped down the track, the breeze from the train making the dead man’s teeth chatter. The jogger did not recognise this particular species of bird at all but knew the name of the dead man immediately…he was ‘Eric Minchin.’ The jogger had caught a few of Eric’s gigs at the Comic Lounge in North Melbourne. Eric often hosted there during the International Comedy Festival. In fact most comedians workin’ Melbourne’s comedy circuit knew Eric and they all hated his guts. Often behind his back Eric was called ‘a fuckin’ big twat!’ Eric was disliked mostly because of his popularity and his constant upstaging at live gigs. Eric did not like to share the limelight.
Eric Minchin had had the kinda’ career the average Aussie comedian working the circuit longed for. It had been smooth sailin’ all the way for Eric. Not one wrong step, no stumbling either. While most comics in Melbourne struggled to put food on the table, Eric and his family were eating out at the Flower Drum… and Eric could often be found without his family dancing the night away at Eve Nightclub. Eric had a lovely wife, a beautiful child and over a two hundred and fifty thousand likes on Facebook…Fuck it, what more could any comic want? Eric was an Aussie success story, even 60 Minutes had interviewed him.
Eric also had a well paid gig on Australia’s second highest rating TV show, ‘Good Golly 5 ‘0’Clock News’ on Channel 3.
For you info…
Channel 3 is the same channel that programmes The Jailbirds. Eric did a segment on the TV show called Where Are They Now? A piss take on the short lived careers of forgotten Aussie celebrities…I guess the irony of Eric’s comedy routine and news reporting finally caught up with him. How could Eric Minchin have known last Friday when he signed off for the weekend he would make the headlines on the Channel 3 telly prompter -‘Eric (the twat) Minchin popular Australian star found dead in a ditch.’
He couldn’t have known that of course, or would anyone have guessed he’d would die in such a peculiar way sleeping like a baby next to a dead blue wren. Eric death was the start of what was to become known in the Australian media as The dead Bird Mystery – Comedy to die for!
Eric Minchin was to be Australia’s first victim.
Eric Minchin loathed by some, loved by the general public, dead at thirty eight.
Approximately Thirteen Hours Earlier….
Larry Bird was seated on backstage toilet at Bar 59 waiting nervously for his return to the Melbourne Comedy circuit. He scratched his balls and ran his routine over and over in his mind. Ten years was a long time to be off the circuit. Larry knew it too. Did he still have it?  Noble the stage Manager banged on the door.  She’d been a stage  manager longer than she’s been a lesbian and was over both roles.
“It’s ya fifteen minute call Larry. Tuck it in mate a get ready.  I can’t wait to hear your new routine. Best of luck” she shouted then under her breath added ” You’re goin’ to need it.” Noble tugged at her tight jeans and spat on the floor.
Larry flushed the toilet and stood watching the water swirl around the bowl for a moment. This was it, he dreamt about this night for a long time, over ten years or was it longer? Larry had lost track of time…and now here he was, ready for his return to the stage, finally.  Slowly he walked down the corridor turning left at the end, as he rounded the corner he could just make out the sound of another comic’s routine. The joke’s lingering in his mind blocking his creativity a little. Larry didn’t know who was performing and he didn’t care either. As Larry stood in the wings waiting, he thought about his mother and father, his life up to this point, his first kiss in the backseat of a mate’s van when he was just fifteen and he thought about the plastic bag with half gram of coke waiting in his jacket pocket.
‘No Larry don’t do the coke thing’… Larry thought.
Larry reached into his pocket and rolled the little bag between his fingers and onto his palm …just as Noble the lesbian turned the corner.
“Five minute call Larry! Christ what’s wrong with you mate?…You’re sweating like a pig”
Larry Bird was indeed sweating like a marathon runner.
“Nothing. I’m just nervous. Stage fright I guess”
“Stage fright. Well you look like shit! Pull’ya self together mate…you’re on.”
I’m on Larry said, over and over in his mind. This is it. Everything I’ve done, been through has led me to this place, this stage…this moment.
“Curtain up mate”  Noble shouted.
Larry swollowed hard and stepped out onto the stage, the stage lights blinding his view. I am home Larry thought…I’m home.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: NOEL ANDERSON completed NIDA’s Playwright Studio 1996. His written work includes: Germ Warfare (Bondi Pavilion), Kylie Kastle Throws a Party performed in schools across Australia, Sammy and Dave (Stables Theatre) and The Carer (Belvoir Street). In 2008 his play “Pulling Out” won Midsumma’s Pink Shorts at Gasworks and in 2012 his work was featured in Love Letters at the Melbourne Arts Centre. In 2013 Noel’s play Andy Warhol’s Fifteen Minutes of Fame soldout La Mama’s Courthouse, returning 2015 to the Jewish Museum of Australia with Warhol’s Geniuses Exhibition. Directing work includes: Sylvia Plaith’s Letter’s Home (Belvoir Street), Oliver (Gold Coast Performing Arts Centre), A Fitzroy Romance (La Mama), The Water Sellers (Best Director Winner Monash Festival) and Price Check The Musical (Theatre Works)
Noel is producing, directing and co-writer on a new Aussie musical called Audrey Hepburn and I Consider Our Assets which open on 29th Oct at the Melba Spiegeltent, Melbourne

Larry Bird Episode 4 – Meet Bill from Alma Park!

The Unofficial Death of Larry Bird
Episode 4. The Art of Comedy – written by Noel Anderson
Larry didn’t know it then, but he was not going to dream again for a very long time. The next time he did Little George would be waiting for him, with a scroll, words written in pigeon blood.
Alma Park was quiet when Bill arrived with his companion. They’d been coming there for sometime now, Bill usually stretched a bit then went for a run. Bill had stumbled upon Felicity on that day, the day he did three laps of the oval, the day he’d stopped to leak under a gum tree near the railway tracks.
Bill liked pissing out open for people to see. It made him feel rebellious and almost human. He remembered Felicity pretended not to notice him urinating and he decided, when they connected later that day, not to mention it either. Bill had never really had a girlfriend before….before he met Felicity. His companion, Frank (a mean old codger) never let him out of sight long enough to find one, even in Alma Park. It was damn annoying, Bill thought, to always be at someone’s beck and call… But that day, months ago, the day that old Frank had dozed off for the first time ever, Bill was able to strike up his third eye and connect.  At first Felicity didn’t want to fuse and blocked Bill’s vibrations but with a little mental probing from Bill, she eventually gave way…and they merged, weak but united.
“Let me in.” Bill whispered shaking his tail.
“No. Stay where you are” Felicity had said.
“Let me in E…Eli…Elicity.” Bill continued, almost begging, his nose wet.
The connection was bad, but clearing…
“How did you know my name Frank?” Felicity asked.
“How do you know…my….mine” Bill growled back.
“I don’t know…I just do. A woman never questions these things”
“I see. Well, how do I say this… ?”
“Say what?” she beckoned without once moving her lips.
Okay. I’ll give it to her straight, Bill thought…
He’s goanna give it to me straight I bet, what a bloody wanker, felicity thought…
“By the way…for your information” he corrected sharply. “I’m not Frank. Just letting you know. That’s not my name.”
“Well, B.T.W for your info…my name is actually Felicity, not Elicity. Your connection is weak. In fact it’s fucked. Goodbye Bill. Don’t ring me again okay.” Felicity quipped and immediately blanked him out. A bell rang out in Bill’s inner ear when Felicity blocked him…ding-a-ling it went…then Bill heard…”have a good day!” The connection went stone-dead. The connection was only brief but Bill had grown to trust his inner eye and felt he could also trust Felicity. The connection was deeper than Bill thought possible with a human too. He had barked when they connected and vibrated, while Felicity shook uncontrollably and blushed bright pink! An image had appeared in both their inner minds. What was it they saw? Something odd? Something about dead birds. And, there was a note too!  It was no use trying to bring it back, Bill thought, and rolled onto his back…once the connection goes, it’s gone…until the next time.
‘The park was empty today’…that thought came from somewhere at the back of Frank’s skull.
‘Where was Felicity’…Bill wondered?
Frank pulled a small checkered blanket out of his backpack and placed it on top of the dry summer grass, feeling around the edges, he flattened the corners with his fingers. Next, Frank took a silver flask of black sweetened green tea from the pack and sat squarely on the blanket. He sipped the tea seeing nothing but hearing every little sound in the surrounding parkland. Frank had exceptional hearing for an old fella. Frank unleashed Bill and let him run free. Alma Park was more often than not full of couples walking their beasts (as Bill liked to refer to any animal walking with their master)… today however was different. Today there was next to no beasts frolicking in the park. There were also hardly any people. And, there was certainly no Felicity.
Frank put aside his cane and took out some sunscreen lotion. He sat rubbing the lotion deep into his burnt skin.
“Bill! Listen up boy” Frank shouted as the lotion melted into the cracks on Frank’s face.
“Bill don’t you stray too far from me, you hear boy?” Bill heard Frank alright as clear as a bell, but decided to ignore him.
“Shut the fuck up Frank, you silly old fart!” Bill barked back wagging his tail, running off towards the playground.
Bill knew there wasn’t much Frank could do without him anyway. Frank was as blind as a bat!
“I wish you’d start behaving like a bloody Labrador Retriever” Frank shouted at Bill, “And stop thinking your some fancy Spotted Dalmatian?
“Never Frank, you silly old bastard…I’ll never be happy as a Retriever, your servant, never!” Bill barked back.
Now where, in God’s name was Felicity?
Miriam sat stuffing handfulls of popcorn into her mouth, fidgeting and watching a repeats of Jail Birds on TV. She thoughts a lot that night, dirty thoughts, rooting thoughts, about Larry Bird…And, two of the other waiters at Ms Jackson’s that she fancied like hell. Miriam thought so hard, she finished all the popcorn in 10 seconds flat and sat masturbating on the lounge and feeling hungry.
In Carlton, Rodger was kneeling on his bed, ear to the wall, listening to his ex-partner, Abigail, moaning through a three-way in the next room. Rodger said the Lord’s Prayer softly to himself and prayed Abigail didn’t take too long to cum…he knew from experience she could take hours. Besides, he had footy training first thing in he morning and wanted to wake up feeling fresh!
In her South Melbourne flat, Cherrie Bomb had a bright idea! “Maybe I’ll make Donald a nice roast, and dress up as a Party Hostess like I use too when we first met.” Why hadn’t she thought of it earlier? She’d wear her brand new Miley Cyrus pink lipstick she picked up at Big W…and, after the pork roast, do a bit of twerking, maybe twerk to Susie Quatro’s Devil Gate Drive. Cherrie loved that song. And, Donald will love it too! Probably wet his pants…she hoped!
So, Cherri Bomb said goodbye to Jail Birds, switching off the TV and dashed to the shower.
Rule number 1 of twerking: Always have a clean vagina…just in case there was some action!
Jackie stepped defiantly out of the bottle shop on the corner of Sydney Road and William Street, holding a bottle of Moet wrapped tightly in a brown paper bag. She was in the mood for celebration…she got the job at Vampires Theatre Restaurant and could finally give the Edinburgh the flick. She sat on the edge of the gutter, popped the cork and took a long swig. Moet had never tasted soooo…good!
Back in Carlton, Rodger had given up waiting for Abigail to cum…if she couldn’t then he could, and did…
“Wow that was smooth” he thought. Now, with that out of the way, Rodger drifted off into a deep sleep.
Alone in his flat in St Kilda, Larry slipped on his glasses, fired up his Samsung laptop and opened the file marked…
THE ART OF COMEDY by Larry Bird.
Jesus, Larry you haven’t looked at this file in over…I don’t know… ten years, or was it longer…he thought. Larry couldn’t remember, too many parties in the 90’s…or was it the 80’s. He flicked through his writing, man what a lot of shit…he thought, but was any of it good?
Larry hadn’t given comedy a thought since…well, since that day, the day in the park. But, something inside him was saying that Melbourne was ready for his return to stage and the comedy circuit.
Larry still had the dream, buried under all the booze and drugs of his youth, to be Australia’s King of Fuckin’ Comedy… and kick Graham Kennedy off the fuckin’ throne.
“Fark” Larry said to himself, no one heard him…the dreams still bloody there! After all this fuckin’ time!
Larry knew the time was right, the moment was now…this time Larry, he corrected himself in his mind, Larry J Bird…don’t fuck everything up!
“Someone left a dead pigeon in the fuckin’ flat, and some comedian just died…literally. And, I’m not being funny.”

Andy Warhol’s Fifteen Minutes ofFrame: In the Raw 
Written & Directed by Noel Anderson
Jewish Museum of Australia
“An artist is somebody who produces things that people don’t need to have” – Andy Warhol
Continues on 9th, 16th May 2015

Albert Einstein in a box?

Albert Einstein in a box?