My brother Electroboy was the star of a play on Friday night. He participates every year in a theatre-group for intellectually disabled people, always landing himself a prime role. And rightly so: he is a star. He has been in the performance three years in a row now, and every time as I've exited the auditorium, I've overheard strangers remarking on his performance. Ah the pride! It makes me wonder what kind of life he would be persuing, if things had been different for him. Perhaps he and I would be performing together - The Marvellous Munkey Bros. Who knows? Anyway the troupe Electroboy works with is organised by a good soul named Larry. He tends to create epic non-linear explorations of post-modern themes... which munkey doesn't find particularly appropriate to either the performers or the audience, but I shouldn't bitch. It's amazing that he puts so much time and effort into something most people wouldn't even bother with... even if the pretention-level of his ideas is slightly misjudged.
On Sunday, I made the trek via public transport out to Yarra Glen for A Day At The Races. There were about 20 of us, in our group, including my four favourite young ladies in the known universe. Everybody was dolled up to the nines and looking smashing; we had our own little marquee on the lawn, and the sun was shining (for most of the day). Snazzles had her seasoned gambling hat on, but alas fate was not on her side. The biggest win of the day went to Corrie with "It's The Power" - a horse picked totally at random, who delivered the Mistress a "kaching" of $90. It was an event filled with fine food (arranged by the incredibly organised Mr Adam) and much booze. By the end of the day munkey found himself quite pleasantly sozzled - although I think (hope) I managed to hold together a reasonable level of decorum. There was no vomiting on buses trains or taxis, so that must count for something. After the long journey back to the city, the last few of us decided it would be a fine idea to indulge in pizza and further drinking at Bimbo's. It was a bleary-eyed blogger who finally made his way home and fell into bed that evening.
Last night I caught up with my ladies again, along with the oft-reclusive Mr Joshua to eat fish & chips, drink wine and watch the Grand Final of Australian Idol. Yes, lovers and dreamers, I know you would expect better of a bunch of supposedly-classy well-educated arty folk. But hey, trashy as it may be, realtiy TV is fun. Despite Emily's vocal prowess, we were all glad to see a talented genuinely good-natured Aussie dag like Kate take the prize. Besides, Emily looks like a polynesian Gretel Killeen. Nuff sed.
One final shout-out, before I leave you be. Big birthday "Hurrah"s for Mr Joshua and Mr Chris Mac, who both celebrated the anniversary of their popping-into-the-world this weekend. Cheers, dears.
The finest fillies on the course. Clockwise from top right: Dame Snazzlepops; Madame Moodles; Lady Lilikens; Mistress Corrie.
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