Stroking the furry wall

English comedian Russell Brand.Image via Wikipedia

All I wanted last night was a quiet night in. It was cold outside and I felt weary, but I had promised to do something I didn’t really want to do. 

It’s been a while since I caught up with the yoga teacher so when she suggested seeing a movie I felt obliged to accept. Fortunately the chosen venue – the Jam Factory – was out of the city so I could drive there and have a quick get away after. 

We met at 7.30. When I say we met I really mean I was there at 7.30 waiting for her and pacing up and down until she arrived at 7.45. We went for a quick dinner at the Oriental Tea House in Chapel Street. Both of us had dumplings of descriptions and very delicious. As far as I’m concerned dumplings are the in thing right now. If it’s not been officially declared then I’m willing to bite the bullet and announce that the coolest thing in eating trends is the rise of the humble dumpling. You get a good one and it’s an experience not far short of good sex, tender, slippery, and a lot of fun. This is the year of the dumpling. 

We saw Get Him To The Greek, the new Russell Brand movie (which sounds grand when you consider that this is only his second movie I think, but it is apt – he’s an above the title performer). I like Russell Brand heaps, but I wasn’t dead keen on seeing this. For whatever reason I half-suspected a poorly written and directed production and a waste of Brand’s pretty unique talents. I was very pleasantly surprised.

I have to say I cacked myself many times through the movie. It was a LOL movie, or, as I prefer to say, laugh out loud. Brand was great, just naturally dissipated while remaining a warm-hearted, sympathetic character. He pretty well played himself I think. P Diddy was great as Sergio. What’s his name as Aaron was better than I expected – I’ve only ever seen him as the second banana. 

Great scenes and moments, from stroking the furry wall to the mind-fucking to having heroin shoved up your arse to the fabulous Jeffery.

I’d happily spend an evening at the pub with Russell Brand. He knows how to party, and is good company to boot. For all his excesses there is something endearingly childish about him. I’m sure part of it is act, but I’m sure it comes from reality.

Watching the movie and laughing riotously I couldn’t help but feel a little wistful. For some reason I was reminded of Hank from Californication. There is a part of me that feels a strong bond with Hank, and it was that part of me that itched last night. Fuck it all I thought, why do I even try to conform? It’s nice to do just as you feel and if no-one is hurt what’s the harm? Trying to be sensible and responsible is admirable (and all those other –ble words), but it’s not always a lot of fun. I need my fun. And fun for me often is that wild at heart stuff – not always, but sometimes. 

I figured as I drove home is that in terms of career that’s my Achilles heel. I’ve got the goods to get to the top, I look the part and occasionally play the part, I’ve got the smarts, the competitive instinctive, the single minded drive to get things right – right as I see it anyway. Ultimately though for all that and all my ambivalent ambition I can’t take it terribly seriously. There’s a lot of other stuff out there, and a lot of fun to be had besides. I can’t be po faced and serious minded with all that, and just can’t really see myself as the CEO of a big organisation when there’s a part of me that imagines floating along on a lilo, cocktail in hand and pretty girls in skimpy bikinis abounding.  

Sure, there’s the side of me that wants to write the great Australian novel and do some awfully worthy stuff – but equally there is the sensual narcissist just bursting to be expressed. Hell, I’d be a groovy CEO, but the market may not approve.
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