Santa's Bitch

Yes children, Santa and his reindeers will be rocking up soon (if you've been good), so this is the time of year we get together, get a little pissy and hope to god there's some mistletoe hanging above our heads at the end of the night. So there was an annual luncheon that the OHA Headquarters holds every Christmas to celebrate that year that has passed and also to reflect on how amazingly hot we've grown in the last 12 months!

I was at a prior engagement so sadly I had to arrive at the lunch later, but when I walked in, there were red rosy cheeks, loud carols playing, bottle corks popping and after my arrival, jaws dropping.
Knowing it would create a stir, I had fittingly chosen to wear my hot red singlet with the phrase "Santa's Bitch" emblazoned across it and therefore I didn't need to speak my welcome because everyone was screaming and pointing it at my chest. This followed shortly by a round of applause and I hadn't even reached my seat yet! This is the kind of welcome every Candy girl loves!

I might mention, that because of the A-List connection my friends and I have, the whole restaurant had been booked out just for us and we could be as loud and fabulous as we liked! The menu was specially designed just for us and we had our own personal waiters attending to our needs of liquid and lots of it so we wouldn't become parched (heaven forbid).

The luncheon progressed and our chauffeur had arrived to pick the group up and cart us away to one of the Chief members houses where the after party would carry on. We had to keep entertained somehow on the 30 min drive, so this involved haunting poor drivers on the road with smiles, waves and pointing at randoms not caring whether we caused accidents or not.

Stumbling out of the OHA chariot (mini bus), we floated into the halls and living areas of the house and then flooded towards the fridge that stored icy, fresh alcohol. The sun was shining, I was surrounded by beautiful people and I was living the dream until I decided that Frangelico would be a good idea to shot at 5.40pm in the afternoon on a stomach barely full with 2 risotto balls, 3 pieces of penne pasta, a small dinner roll and 4 glasses of Sav Blanc. Mr Franny, got me fired up and confused my head allowing me to fall in love with my long time frenemy that was Miss Blue Alize! So from this point on, I can only recount slight fragments of the evening (that came flashing back the next day), but there were a few highlights..

I vaguely remember trying to manoeuvre a dance step that justice crew would've pulled out and imagined it going differently in my mind, because in my body, it was an epic fail. I thought it would be cute and classy to mime a song on the end of the couch arm, yet the couch disagreed and I missed the part where I somehow ended up with my neck parallel to the floor and my feet up in the air near the opening of the screen door??

Next flashback consisted of members accidentally dropping and smashing glasses all over the place like we were at a Jewish wedding! I was NOT to be blamed for this....for once..

and finally we have candy trying to attempt push ups after a few shots and forgetting that her muscles had melted from all the Alize and she was now apologising and talking sweet words to the paving after her chin collided with it.

A taxi home was shared with two other OHA members and then I can not remember any more, although I'm pretty sure to pass Taxi school, you have to avoid driving over the top of a median strip like our driver did.

MORNING!!!!!!!! The sun was burning through the window and as I was greeted with the feeling of desert mouth, I looked down and realised after somehow arriving home safely, I was still fully clothed...shoes and all. I had come to the grips that I was literally Santa's Bitch at this point because my belly was aching, I felt like I had a sideshow novelty hammer going off in my head and my mascara was now sitting on my cheeks.

The only way I was going to surface back to life was with a little extra help which came in the form of a burger. After a detox of six weeks with no such thing, I gave in and devoured my Whopper whilst sitting naked underneath my terry toweling dressing gown. I stayed on that pink velour covered lounge for a good hour and slowly felt the hotness coming back to me. Never again will Candy touch Mr Frangelico for he is the devil.

Tis the season to be Jolly ; )

xxx Candy

there's a robber on the dancefloor, but they didnt steal our groove!

Oh how I do love how people think they're being so inconspicuous when they talk behind the palm of their hands and do 'magpie eyes' in your direction?? May I just say, there's no way that I'm going to hear what the hell you're saying anyway so cut the crap, put your hand down and let me lip read! From the look of her 'wind-tunnel tight' ponytail and decision to wear a turtle neck skivvy complete with puffer vest (inside a club), she was probably just cursing jealousy at me anyway... nothing new!

I went with my girl to order a beverage and to my excitement, I discovered that the usual scary bar wench wasn't working, so it was a relief to get smiles as we ordered our drinks and not have a moody cow who had facials like she was permanently 'on the blob', smashing drinks around the place and choosing to only serve humans that had a penis. The bar staff were great and the line was moving fast. 

After our vanilla vodka shots, we chose to set up camp on one of the lounges in a prime location (in between the bar and DJ booth) and then BINGO!!!.... we've been here 10 minutes and there's already a paralytic on the floor straddling the poor innocent pole. Her poor friends tried the 'we don't know her' tactic by turning away when she was beckoning for them to join her and then they threw the shit directly towards the fan, got their camera/phones out and made the most of the situation. She was the typical sloppy first dancer up on the floor that would make the next few dancers look absolutely amazing in comparison.

Sloppy Sarah had left the building, everyone was burning up the dance floor to "Only Girl (In the World)" by Rihanna and I felt like I seriously WAS the only girl in the room with all the male circus freaks that were starting to gather around us. This is when Sloppy Sarah would've come in good use, usually you can push the drunk pole dancer into random men to eliminate two pests at once, but I had to go into work mode and get rid of them myself. This involved death glares and telling the men there were incredible drink specials at the bar, it always worked.

My girlfriend was in lock down mode when she spotted two little street rats trying to progressively kick her clutch purse further and further across the dance floor. First time we assumed it was a mistake, but then we realised they were trying to steal the handbag! So my girlfriend grabbed the bag out of the girl's hand, reported it immediately to security, but the robbers had already made a quick escape and apparently already taken off with another two bags!

We had another drinky and a dance to settle our nerves and then a little skinny moustached teenager that only just entered puberty came over and asked if he could add me on facebook. What was he thinking?? .... "Yes! i would love to accept your friend request and have you stalk my pictures while you imagine us playing LAIR together in your freaky little basement that resembles something of a Ikea children's bedroom catalogue??" No sweetie, go back to Babybook and meet your pals there. I pushed him towards some chick who was reliving her raver years and it sure looked like she accepted his tongue request within 3 seconds! Ahh true love!


It was progressing to closing time and the lights were coming on but we were still dancing up a storm. secretly, I think they just turned the lights on so the staff and DJ could get a good look at us performing because there was still 30 mins till closing. Everywhere we looked there were eyes on us (smiling and not laughing thankfully) and we bowed, curtsied and got a round of applause as we were leaving the club.

Waiting for a taxi was half as painful as the ride home because the driver wouldn't stop talking! If the meter was running on his words per minute, i would have to put this trip on layby. I tried hard to return the conversation and even tried to pretend i was getting calls on my mobile, but even my mobile had fallen asleep because of his verbal diarrhoea.

Quite a respectful night had by Candy and thankfully still had my dignity.....and my purse! xx

Rihanna - Only Girl (In The World)

What makes up TRUE HOTNESS?

BANNED!.....from a family restaurant

An appearance was needed by Candy and I was asked by one of my followers to go to a brand new club where she would be the new resident DJ to help make numbers look good for opening night. I recruited one of the OHA members to come with me and we had arrived a little early.

We spotted a restaurant on the street level below the club and ordered bottle of wine to warm up our talent for the night. By the time I had suffered three sips of the wine, I couldn't take it anymore and decided that this liquid tasted more like conjunctivitis than fine vino, but felt ill at the thought of leaving a bottle behind. So my girlfriend and I pretty much shot down the remainders and by 10 minutes time we had a waiter standing at our table. It was so hard to keep a straight face as he told us "we've had a couple of complaints about the noise level and some parents are concerned about the discussions they are overhearing". So yes, you can say we were evicted from that establishment and on the way out we made loud dalek noises into a fast moving fan that was located near the exit door.

Our names were on the door and let me tell you, it wasn't a big list. I counted a total of 5 patrons, 4 bar staff and 1 DJ. Usually I would love this exclusiveness, but at that time I felt embarrassed because it was such a small turn out for the brand new club and they wouldn't even made enough on door entry to keep the lights switched on! So being a generous and thoughtful person, I thought of a way that I could make the books look good for opening night and this involved buying copious amounts of wine, cocktails and shots for everyone in the club (not often I can do that)!

Now with every adventure Candy and her minions have, there is always a big bad scary wolf lurking in the corner. This one came in the form of being a short, bald crackhead that must have had a sight problem because he spoke approxiamately 1 inch away from my face. The wolf was quizzing us on why we had such bright eyes and clear skin, which we informed him was a positive outcome on not being on drugs like he was. I managed to escape the foul conversation by going to the dance floor, but my girlfriend later informed me that the wolf ended up being a particular client that was owing money to her law firm for unpaid court fines! So he would've thought his dreams had come true when she was asking for his digits, but the truth was, she was getting a contact number off him to follow up the fines on monday.

So further on into the evening, my darling little friend had taken advantage of the open bar, got quite messy and chose the quicker option of getting down the stairs, which was sliding down them on her ass till she hit the bottom. Another friend had offered to give us a lift to the city and as we had driven about 500k's, my girlfriend demanded to get out of the car, followed by holding on for dear life and elegantly spewing into the nearby council bin. Amazingly enough, I was still hungry and progressed to my old faithful safe haven that is....Hungry Jacks.

I was actually feeling quite fresh, whereas Struggletown was the next stop for my faithful OHA member standing beside me. We fought for a taxi, flopped our royal behinds in the back and hoped to god we made it home before the headache begun.

HOW DARE THEY EVICT SUCH TALENT! Candy xx

Barbara Streisand on the Bongos

Well I arrived solo (shock gasp) to met up with friends at a casual town bar on Saturday night with fresh red lips and hair looking flawless. The evening temperature was a calm 20 degrees so lots of people were very keen on being out on the town and obviously not concerned about catching genital hypothermia with their skirts creeping thigh high!

So I walk upstairs and locate the birthday girl who looked stunning and got a fee waived from the OHA, because it was after all, her 21st birthday party. I greeted her properly and then made my way to the outside veranda where two of my members were mingling with other guests from the party.  I hydrated myself with a delicate summer wine and inhaled a few cocktail spring rolls for my dinner, whilst catching up on the latest gossip. Speeches were announced and carried out, then it was off to the bar for another drink.

Now part of me thinks, there must have been a 'tradies' convention at this establishment because the general uniform was dreadlocks, checked style shirts and cheap beer-in-hand. They were everywhere! I was on the dance floor and some random approached me making it known to my attention that I smelt amazing (thanks to Britney). Well sweetie, this I already knew, but i probably didn't need to know the weather forecast that you left on my shoulder with all the slurring and spitting you were doing! Thankfully one of his neanderthal friends grunted out to him and he disappeared to do damage elsewhere.

The DJ was absolutely hitting the right notes with some sweet tunes although I probably could do with not hearing 'Barbara Streisand-Duck Sauce' for quite sometime....and 20 minutes later our little friend is back to slur over my other shoulder! Yet again tells me how awesome I (still) smell and thinks it is acceptable to start bump'n'grinding me to the beat of the congo drums our little DJ friend was bashing on. I made an obvious BOLT to the other side of our dancing circle and try to make it obvious that his chances of touching me is about as likely as a Eskimo living in Wagga Wagga.

"WHO'S UP FOR SHOT'S" Candy yells in a ladylike manner and the OHA members flocked to bar like seagulls to a hot chip. The bar man blended up something delicious which he poured into shot glasses, covered with and orange slice and lit on fire whilst sprinkling cinnamon on top (which created a 'sparkler' effect) and the group squealed like excited little school girls. Meanwhile, I had previously organised for the resident photographer to document the occasion because sadly my camera had decided to call it a night.

The male testosterone was going into overdrive and it felt like we were a big, juicy lamb carcass at feeding time in the zoo. They were pouncing on us and circling in from all directions with crazy looks in their eyes and I waited for Kelly Rowland to stop Working IT and the group exited to the bar. We decided to have more vanilla vodka shots at the bar (which would double as a Valium) and make our way downstairs where we would dance a little longer, the hideous closing lights would come on and we would try to hail a taxi to move on to the next club.

Standing out the front waiting for a lift, the crowds hear a "BOMMMF.....BANG.......DOOF" noise and we turn to see a pedestrian that has been hit by a taxi driver!! In a dramatic display of courage, one of my fellow members, throws his jacket towards me a skips in a fast fashion towards the human speed hump lying in the centre of the road. He heads back towards the group 5 minutes later telling everyone he'll be fine and we choose to take one of the taxi's in the cue whilst others are distracted.

The next venue provided much alcohol, entertainment and generally good people watching, but can I just send a warning to the size 26 dress up gaga in silver sequins (who looked more like a disco ball) ....?? If Candy EVER has to be subjected to a gyrating saltbush 2 metres away from her dancing space, there will be a nasty price to pay and 12 months imprisonment to wear faded denim, elastic waistband jeans. NO BAIL.

All I have to close with tonight is that the 'shot fairy' appeared in my conscience again...about 7 times to be exact and had her way with my mouth and mind.

Lets say a prayer that Candy woke up alive and makeup intact! xx

Duck Sauce - Barbra Streisand Official Video

On show at the Gallery

So this little blog has a nasty ending, you may need a bucket....i sure did!

The night started off with afternoon drinks at a friends house, which he had just recently moved into and its apparent to me now, I probably should've had more to eat at that little gathering. I looked at the time and I got a move on towards home so I could continue the warm up drinks and glam up for the evening ahead. All the OHA regulars were meeting the birthday boy in town at a swanky new bar and we were prepared for anything and everything. The man who the night was dedicated to looked positively HOT and I had to pull him to the side and issue a warning for him to tone it down. With a hot blonde quiff and skinny tie like his, the OHA would be issued a warrant and on our tail in a new york minute.
The venue was amazing and if Blair Waldorf was on my speed dial, she would be meeting me here with Chuck Bass any second. It was a rooftop bar with palm trees, bright perspex stools, outdoor heaters for that sudden spring breeze, a swish little bar in the corner and a large concrete block in the middle of the rooftop, which doubled as a table. When I went to sit at that table with a cocktail in hand, I looked down and it gave a view to the second floor where the restaurant was below. Obviously, the place to be was up on the rooftop bar...... this meant you were closer to heaven!


I decided my drink of choice for the night would be Blue Alize, which I believe is a blend of premium French vodka, cognac, passionfruit, cherry, ginger and natural exotic fruit juices accompanied nicely with a slash of lime on top. Yes, it was true, i had started a love affair with this new bevvy and it would become a like a hooker on Kings Cross.....cute and giggly when she's going down, but could prove to be a waste of money and leave you feeling dirty after.

So as the bar announced, it was happy hour 2 for 1 cocktails and this is where the seams were ripped apart. One member was making sexual gestures towards a wall painting, another member was getting third degree burns form standing to close to the floor heaters and not registering how hot they were and  the birthday boy was helplessly wandering up to every table and asking "is this my drink?? is this my drink??". The Absinthe cocktails were getting everyone hallucinating and allowing it to be acceptable to yell hello to girls walking across the street, three levels below us. They rudely ignored my friend which turned his happy, hippy wave into a stern middle finger matched by his grumpy face. Oh cheer up buttercups, we will now move on to our old faithful club where we assumed there would be extra backup on call for our arrival. 

Names on the door, thank you very much, and FOC (free of charge) entry was granted and we were now ticking along well with good tunes, the smell of fog machines and serious glances from the opposite sexes. As we were walking down to the metal stairway to the dance floor, many men had stopped us to assure us of how fine we were looking at that point and we were graced with our first OHA officer. He was screaming like a fishwife saying "MOVE IN OR MOVE OUT" and I was concerned that he had just taken three layers of skin of my inner ear and damaged my sexy in the process.

The bass in the club was so strong it was like having a free massage when you sat down and if you liked pretending you had a starring role in the movie Avatar, you would've loved the exotic smoke machine that created a softer lighting on some of the 'underworld' talent that was there that night.

My taste buds were living the dream, but the walls of my stomach felt like Bear Grylls was trekking around trying to abseil down them! I tried to do the fresh air trick out in the beer garden, but this wasn't helping. I think the word I was trying to find was taxi and I was really quick about it, so I grabbed my bestie and we were off on our journey towards home. Ten points to the taxi driver who turned down his music so he could eavesdrop on our interesting conversation recapping the night and then the moment of doom came, when we had arrived at the destination and I knew I would have to somehow get some blood pumping into my burning feet and get out of the cab.

Whilst I was sitting in the living room, Bear was still on his mountain hike and venturing towards the opening in my mouth. I made a bolt for the toilet door, which was closing fast and decided my quicker option would be to turn around and run for the front door. Sadly, time was cut shorter and I ended up catching my previous blue alize cocktails (mixed with fries and aioli) in my hand that was over my mouth. The poor lawn suffered from little landmines everywhere and this symbolised to me, maybe I should've picked up the water earlier that night. Although it tasted bitter and vile, my oral artwork that i will now title 'blue fries', looked quite pretty on the front lawn and there was many encore showings later on into that morning.

Good Grief Candy! xoxo

Haunted by the past ..

Sadly, I suffered from laryngitis this passing weekend, so I have no mentionable stories to entertain you with. So what I'm going to do is recount a night out that I've tried to forget, but as part of my awareness meetings, Ive been encouraged to speak about everything horrendous and hot to allow myself to vent.


As my girlfriend and I walked through the beer garden of our local club, we knew that we should have rang for backup because this night was going to get nasty. I felt slightly bad because as we were making our way towards the cocktail list, the men in the room had their eyes temporarily fixed upon us, which cost them to miss a massive live sporting moment on the big screen outside (as well as a trip to some physio for their fractured necks) ..... oops!
So we've got our drinks and we've sussed out a good people watching position between the dance floor and the bar (which we now know is a complete danger zone). Our eyes instantly locked on to a poor girl who had about 2 bottles for a warm up drink while she got dressed as she considered that polka dots, see-through lace and stripes could possibly work together. Not to mention the oily, lanky hair and loss of dance skills she was displaying. My eyes were amused at what I was seeing, but I was disturbed when I saw she had jelly legs due to the alcohol intake and she was now 'wobbling' her ankles around in her heels. Eeeeesh get that girl a wheelchair please. As we were placing bets as to when the ankles would crack, a funky smell started to waft towards my nostrils and I instantly recognised the stench that would develop. Never would I tolerate being 'crop dusted' on, so tapped the guilty owner of the mass bombing on the shoulder and asked him if he had committed the crime, expecting him to look dumbfounded. Instead he simply admitted to it and was later trying to make my friend and I admit we loved it. AHHHH no, sorry buddy, even if my honey Bradley Cooper dropped a missile like that I wouldn't adore it. Fartman started shamelessly flirting with my girlfriend (because I guess he got bored of talking to my back) and thought it was appropriate to swing her over his shoulder and make the way through the crowd like Tarzan and his Jane! Uggh, tempers flared and as I rescued my girl, we knew it would be a long night.
Now time for some serious dance moves! We were loving our co-ordination to the beats and apparently so did another little fan club near us! Two males moved in on us (one who we labelled Bob Sinclair) and disturbed our dancing :( and he thought he was 'it and a bit' in his 1996 gym instructor muscle tee with his 'dad' jeans in tow. His accomplice cracked the line 'Do you come here often?' and I wanted to die from embarrassment. I didn't know whether to help the poor guy with some pick up etiquette or light a candle and write a eulogy for his future sex life. Little Bob Sinclair pops up and says 'girls, if you don't want us to hang around you, just say so' which we nodded to and then he followed with 'Ill just stand here and pretend I'm dancing with you girls'. Oh My God, someone please tell me how many seconds can follow before you re allowed to laugh in this guys face. We made a subtle bolt to a quiet lounge in the corner while we waited for the next hawk to swoop in. 
Two songs later, the eagle has landed and we have our next victim. His name was Georgio and he reeked to high heaven of cheap, bulk branding chemist aftershave and if I had lit a naked flame, I'm pretty sure he would've incinerated. It was such a lovely experience having him tell me about how his mum would be so proud if he presented us (both) to her, because one could cook and one could clean! What a gem and if that wasn't tempting enough, the fact he was on acid and chewing his face off in my ear was the real deal breaker. Who did this freak arrive with?? Oh I see, the weirdo with him that couldn't stop looking at us, meanwhile his girlfriend (who was the birthday girl), was trying to sway his attention with a classy lap dance. Yes, that's right, those words do NOT go together.
Now as the night was just starting to get back on track with our hotness on the dance floor, another cokehead was having an amazing time breakdancing in his own little world and then locked eyes on prey that he thought was rightly his (this prey being me). HOW WRONG HE WAS. He bounces over towards me and my friend who are dancing up a storm (with security guards watching closely) and i quickly think ahead and spot a hen's night group to direct him over to. As I touch him on the shoulder, he turns to me, grabs my ass, picks me up with my dress riding right up haigher than the empire state building leaving my royal ass exposed. I scream, give him a swift 'mum' slap across the head and before i know it, cokehead is being removed by the OHA security. He gets sentimental and makes a gesture with both hands over his heart pumping towards me, which I rebut with my fist clenched over my forehead. Even though it wasn't my finest moment, it got me alot of respect on the dancefloor and more fans coming over to ensure I was okay and waiting for my reaction to be laughter and not tears, before they too, .... lost it! 


Ok, so I think we're done here... breathe Candy ....breathe


xxxxx Candy

Weekend Getaway...and the hotness shall follow

My greetings to you fellow hotties and welcome again to my blog which documents all things horrendous and hot!

Well, well ,well..... i took a short retirement from being the life of the party in my hometown and decided a weekend away would do me well. Every Saturday I'm pushing my body to the limits trying to hold back the hotness it wants to break out with and it wears me thin i tell you! 

I was visioning a long relaxing sleep, followed by eating healthy meals, taking a long walk along the beach, not having a drop of alcohol and watching some sort of educational show on television to stimulate my brain. So.....this is how that 'vision' ended up.

Okay so i start my journey towards the beach shack with a countdown of 70 K's to go and my stomach is on empty. I make it known to my girlfriend that it a necessity that we make a stop at a well known trashy family restaurant for a little nibble and she has no trouble agreeing with me. I lower my window down to see that it must be 'served by a celebrity day' at this restaurant because i could swear i was approached to have my order taken by jabba the hut (see picture)

He clearly wasn't very happy with life and/or current job and read our order back to us like he was reading a death sentence. My girlfriend enquired about a little snack tortilla wrap asking 'is it small enough for a snack?' which he grunted 'YES' and we were given the final total for our order. Now as if this guy wasn't hating our happy personalities enough, i progressed to pull out some cash to give him and accidentally handed over a $10 note that was ripped in half (last drunken weekend) and put back in wallet as a joke! Oops, not funny, so i took the ripped tenner off him (could be repaired) and handed over my other cash and as we were driving off, my girlfriend pulled this mammoth meal out of her takeaway bag. She remarked 'i thought that guy said this was a snack size?' and i replied with 'well sweetie, did you see the size of him?, he probably thought Xmas dinner was a snack!' and with that we were back on the road *sigh...

Did i mention the plans had changed now??? well, they had, and it was decided that we would be going to meet up with my partners in crime for dinner at the local golf club then that would later develop into a shack party later that night ... how quickly it all comes together ;)

So we've freshened up, had a starter drink and now all 17 of us seated at the dinner table are waiting for our food. You may have noticed the numbers had increased amazingly from 2 to 17, but good news travels fast and we hotties work in big numbers, okay!

We had some light entertainment while we were waiting for our meals. At the bar, a lady in her early 60's had been having a lovely time schmoozing with her gentlemanly friend over a glass of wine until all gravity broke loose and her legs became unbalanced. I turned around to see her going ass over which looked so perfectly maneuvered, i recall having seen it in cirque de soliel and she landed flat as a pancake on the floor. This then became awkward when i wanted to wee myself laughing but had to wait for the appropriate time when i could wait for one of my friends to say something mildly funny and just let the tears run while i laughed. Poor little luv, she was out to it before she even had the chance to get home and take her pants off ;)

Our meals arrived and the table was suddenly silenced when a hairstyle (so dated in history) walked past, i couldve sworn i saw dust coming off it. It was the most vile looking thing id ever seen on someone's head and i couldn't help but stare as if it was a travelling museum exhibition. The male was sporting a permed mullet that looked like it had just been rinsed through with 'Just for Men' tinting gloss and his jumper looked like a left over from the Twin Peaks costume wardrobe. It didn't stop there. 7 O'clock must have been 'Carney' hour because the circus had certainly been told to get their meals here. There was women with beards, old men with visible female looking boobs and the lineup to order food resembled a fashion runway from a mental asylum. I still shudder now, lets move on from this.

Hours had passed and now i was at my friends shack just chilling and trying to live up to my 'no drop of alcohol' weekend.
Oh god , who am i kidding, ok.. so little Miss Candy finished a 700ml bottle of vodka to herself, but its cool, she was keeping tamed from being the life of the party and stood near the fog machine to try and soften the hotness that was brewing. The place looked amazing. My darling friend had gone to so much trouble that i felt like i had been transported to one of Elton John's yearly White Balls.......not the hairy sort, the dinner and dancing sort. He had hired fog machines, strobe lighting, fairy lights and decorated the house inside and out for a good 6 hrs the day before. I couldn't let a beautiful drinking atmosphere go to waste so it was back to the freezer for some chilled vodka and i felt it necessary to round up some fellow OHA members for some honorary sculling practise.
Now when you have many lovely gay friends who love to make fun of any dirty contexts that come out of your mouth, choosing to talk while playing drinking games is not wise. While trying to distinguish rules of a drinking game with a ridiculously long straw, never again will i say "awwww I'm not gonna win this, ill never be strong enough to get it to stick up" and "its so hard to get it to start flowing" which of course i was referring to the length of breath i would have to take to get the liquid to travel up the straw into my mouth.
As drinks were flowing, shots being thrown back and songs getting requested the fog machine was the star of the party, but certain people were having brain lapses, forgetting that the 'fog' button had probably only been pressed about 2 tenths of a second before they just chose to press it again. The room was getting to look like a romantic misty sea fog until the joke had passed and now you were lucky to see your hand in front of your face. Right on cue, the smoke alarm went off and i could hear screaming, laughing, lady gaga-just dance, and someone with a clue shouting "PUT ON THE AIR CON, PUT ON THE AIR CON". I stupidly thought, yeah i am getting a little hot from all this dancing, not even considering that whoever the smart button was suggesting to put the air conditioner on was trying to help draft the air out of the room, through the windows. I enjoyed trying to locate friends whilst crawling on the floor and it all dawned on me why my knees would be looking black and blue and why 3 days later....and thanks to that awesome smoke machine, i still have no voice!
We all re-united the next day for breakfast and recounted our stories from the night before, some known- some not, and we sat in Struggletown until our gigantor cups of coffee came under our nose!

Guess the plan didnt go how it was visioned!

XX xx Candy

The Storm Hits!

Twas a stormy, cold day in my hometown with forecasts of severe evening blasts of HOT spells!
The ladies and I started off the afternoon by going to our local nail spa for our mani/pedi and we were greeted by friendly staff that were genuine enough to our faces, but later through the appointment, the mood changed. I was getting flashbacks of an episode of Seinfeld where Elaine went to her nail spa and had a phobia the staff were laughing at her (see video). I wish the staff included me in on the joke because what they were 'squaking' and laughing about seemed intriguing and i think its amazing how they can make a slight "WHAAAAAP", "GAAAAH" or deep nasal noise and that translates to something?! Ive learnt to just smile and nod and hope it didn't include me..., on the other hand, my manicure lady was quite cute and i had some very sexy nails when she had finished.
Moving on, the next stop was to pick up some classy alcohol and get the bubbly flowing at my humble abode. We took at least 3 hours to get ready and by the end of it, I had to turn off the air conditioning because due to my avoidance, we had all allowed ourselves to be the epitome of absolute hotness. It made me ill to think of the trouble it was going to cause later that evening.
Our chauffeur had rung the door bell, the drinks were put down, mascara applied, pantie line assessed and we were good to go. Along the way we picked up another fabulous founding member of the OHA and the heavens above started opening up and creating a storm (literally). It was then obvious to me, we had declared there would be war tonight and put on our armour.......... = more gloss.
Arriving at the club, the scene was quite impressive. I ordered a drink for the birthday girl and not long after, more of my recruits arrived, and we cut the ribbon for the race to unleash our familiar behaviour. We kept it under wraps for quite sometime and when the moment was appropriate a massive hit song came on and all of the ladies squealed with excitement as we knew this would be the perfect time to display our natural talent. So the guns were fired and funnily enough the floor around us cleared and people seriously considered whether we were hired by the establishment because we were all in sync with our choreography and not one of us let a smile crack. It was quite well organised and we even earned a round of applause by the end of the track, so we could all breathe and order another drink, the first act was over!
Ten minutes later there was a scantily clad belly dancer standing beside me while I was caressing a 7 ft long python around my neck (of the reptile sort). It wasn't killing my sexy at all...in fact, i was visioning myself as a doppelganger for the well respected Ms Britney Spears circa 2001 MTV Awards minus the microphone to boot.
Many dance moves, attempts of bum slaps and face stares later, the army and i were assessing whether it was necessary to move on to our next classy joint and the unanimous decision came to .... HELL YES!
Taxi's were hailed as soon as we got outside and we deployed to our next assignment location. Our names were on the door, thanks to another recruit, which entitled express and free entry, but gps pin points must have been located because word got out where me and my army were.
The crowds came flooding and we had to progress to the outside lounge to escape the heat (mostly created by us). This is where I ordered for ranks to fall back and regain their dignity whilst the battlefields were getting nasty. Boot laces were getting ripped, mobiles were getting dropped, photos were being deleted, drinks were getting smashed and I was in my element! ;)
I had one too many energy drinks so the time came where some members and I got the snooker table confused with the dance floor and this bought on a very abrupt exit when we were met face to face with the security team (which was the OHA in disguise) and we opted to leave because clearly we had peaked!
Farewells and prayers were said to all recruits, the crowd cleared and by my watch, it was whopper o'clock!

Koreans make fun of Elaine

somebody call for backup

So the journals begin with a foul amount of quality that was out on the town last night. What began as a 'quiet drink' with friends at 3pm turned into a loud mess and a taxi ride home at 11pm. We started the carbocide commiting afternoon off with a entree of irish potato skins, a side of garlic bread and of course, the old faithful, chips and aioli. 2 bottles of wine later the sun was setting and we were graced with frippling cold climates which meant we had to be moved somewhere hotter so our full exposure was not getting wasted. The bar wench (who had missed her calling as marylin monroe in drag), directed us to the downstairs street level which was atrocious and we decided it wasnt a very promosing 'people watching' position. So we progressed to the next cocktail bar, where Santana is a regular at the bar, and ordered the next round. My little bar friend suggested i order some 'sex on the beach' (minus the sandy crack) and the cackling began again. Now as history will show, apparently when classy women are sitting on bar stools,  laughing loudly and sipping cocktails, this supposedly symbolises they are screaming for random f*wits to come and display their lack of pickup lines to them.....as was proven! The male excuse of a human had a bothering leg twitch as he spoke to us fine ladies and this caused him to look as if he was hooked up to a string puppeteer on acid. Quite surprisingly, laughing in his face and cutting him off in conversation caused him to get the point very quickly and like a thief in the night, he was no-where to be seen after that.
My guilty pleasure was when an team of 4 mentally challenged people decided that the dance floor was calling them (wrong number) and wanted to display their version of GUMBA!! ( gumbies doing Zumba) It was like Lynda Blair crossed with a porno film and we were given a beautiful display of one certain female launching herself into the dj booth whilst landing on her 'fujitsu' and that was her ticket to jump the line and go straight to struggletown with two bouncers to show her the way.After many wines and cocktails, this can disturb the abilty to hold your 'lower lady muscles' together and your fear then becomes whether you WILL need a bed pan, NOT when the next 'fugly' will close in on you.

A fun filled spontaneous afternoon/evening but the icing was applied to the cake when i went to sit down on what i thought was a stable chain post and promptly fell on to my royal hot arse for the bouncers and pack of feral hens nighter's to absoutely loose it and i hung my head in shame......................."TAXI!!!!!!"