KerrieJean.com

Would seeing a farmer deliver a calf by yanking it out with a couple of ropes make you aware of where YOU come from?

I certainly hope not!

Still, the cliches abound about how country folk with sex urges allegedly the size and unruliness of Texas learn and put into glorious practice the facts of life.

Simply put, ’we’re’ pig ignorant about the finer points of arousal (gettin’ off), respect with novel approaches (get real!) and general boudoir etiquette (I’d really, really like ya outta here before Warren gets back).

Apparently, ‘we’ witnessed that dramatic calf-with-pulley nativity scene and away we went…..

The truth is much more complex.

It is well-documented that when, at the 1984 Winter Olympics, Torvill and Dean turned Ravel’s ‘Bolero’ into a filthy (albeit artistic) meditation on contemporary lovemaking,  the bedrooms of Australia erupted into seething sites of contortionary hi-jinks.

Injuries sustained during what orthopaedic surgeons -  in hundreds of conference papers - term ’The Bolero Madness’ continue to add to already unsustainable waiting lists.

(One documented case of 1984 Riverina ‘ The Bolero Madness’: cr: laverrue: flickr)

And ‘The Bolero Madness’ was most pronounced in country areas. For in Leeton 25 years ago, regional eroticists had long grown tired of watching livestock in their most intimate of moments. For couples anxious to expand their boudoir repertoire – desperate to have one last go at home before seeking excitement in Ardlethan or Grong Grong -  Torvill and Dean, Mr Ravel and ‘Bolero’ were the Perfect Sensual Storm.

Local record sales of  ‘that bloke Ravel’ went through the roof.

What followed was sexploits of a most surprising nature…..

Long time previously modest marrieds proudly turned up to work in ‘The Bolero Madness’ inspired neck braces. Local football identities disrupted training sessions by lifting team mates high in the air, gazing longingly into their eyes. And in sweaty confessional boxes all over the Riverina, priests sat goggle- eyed while breathless, righteous citizens took great pleasure in relating stories of ‘ The Bolero Madness’ taking them all the way to the Gates Of Hell:

‘And you know what Father, it was bloody good, bloody FANTASTIC!’

So - not to be crass mind but perhaps you’d like to know - did I ever dare taste ‘The Bolero Madness’?

Just once.

First of all - for a pratical country gal - Mr Ravel did go on a bit…..

 ’Bolero’ is FAR too long, coming in at just under five minutes. For someone prone to Sheridan Sheet ‘Seconds’ Stastis, that’s a big ask. 

Another problem….

 ’Bolero’ is deceptive. You think it’s coming to an end only to have it take off again. Disconcerting to say the least, particularly if you’ve got one ear on the stereo and the other on 2RG’s sports round up.

Still, I’m in a minority…..

The 2010 Winter Olympics saw Leeton GP’s again exhausted – and again perplexed.

Hundreds of cases of  ‘The Bolero Madness’ induced trauma were again coming through their waiting rooms.

Nigh impossible to treat…….

Because the Riverina’s ‘The Bolero Madness’ relapse rate is the highest in the developed world.

* For those wishing to re-live your ‘The Bolero Madness’ just click ‘ere.  Please report back with a detailed injury list. *Be extra careful  or extra adventurous - depending on your arousal threshold - around 2:05 and 4:20.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ru6qjbRghyU

* So, looking forward to hearing all about your latest brush with ’ The Bolero Madness’.  And, of course, anything else unfolding in your cabbage patch.

*Congratulations to our new posters who’ve joined in of late. To say we all feel privileged is an understatement if ever there was one……

*The Ginger Man: The Riverina Hep Cat Capers.

(cr: Mick O: flickr)

Great news!

Our resident tri polar adventurer with ’ The Bolero Madness’ inspired double pikes, The Ginger Man, is out of the Loaded Dog Henry Lawson Detox Community Cottage and hangin’ real loose……on the streets and in the dance halls of the Riverina.

Follow his ‘Hep Cat Capers’ all this week in our comments section.

For those new to The Ginger Man (in here via Trinity College, Dublin, and Bletchley Park) thumb your nose at that turgid reality that’s passing for a life - and thrill to a swell new vibe.

I know I do!

All posters take a deep breath…..and just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo – just ignore it.

Hec and Gwennie produced five lovely girls – and then they proceeded to produce nothing much at all……

cr: jonlarge: flickr

A dismal fecundity scorecard.

Five comely country girls. Three marriages, one childless (nothing wrong with the works mind!) + two maiden sisters  = a grand total of four offspring.  Boys to boot…..

I daren’t speak for my two maiden sisters but this I can tell you.  At age seven, I looked around Leeton and quickly identified the Murrumbidgee Maidens, the spinsters.

They were the ones with long plaits twisted up in hair nets.

Then I observed how they went about their daily business, concluding:  I like the cut of a spinster’s crimplene!

Leeton spinsters were always busy.

They could be seen zipping around town in 20 year old pristine Holdens. Young men lusted after spinster vehicles. Sadly, the battles to secure a recently deceased spinster’s V8 were always unseemly…..

‘I’m havin’ Miss Rachett’s Holden if it’s the last thing I do. Twenty years old, 890 clicks on the clock….goes like a rocket, unlike Miss Rachett. Eh, eh, eh……’

Leeton spinsters were interesting people to chat with.

They had the time. I had the bulging eyes……

No matter that spinsters tended to get things terribly mixed up. Enthusiastic but bad reporters: purveyors of unsourced, strange information.

‘Your great, great, great, great uncle KJ was, of course, the Prime Minister of New Zealand. Tragically KJ, if Hec’s great, great, great, great grandfather hadn’t signed THAT piece of paper, all you Rosses would be living in a castle in Latvia……’

Occasionally, just occasionally, spinsters would drop in spinster snippets of a personal spinster nature.

In the main, these proved disappointing. Not half as good as what had always been THE story around town.

Most spinsters didn’t lose airmen beaus with matinee idol looks over the Pacific. There were no posthumously awarded VCs hanging  by single gold chains from Ponds cream protected necks.

Rather, IT  ’just never happened’.

And then again - mind you, in retrospect - for some lucky spinsters IT did happen but definitely NOT in Leeton. More a case of once a year on faraway Strokeback Island with a ’special’  friend, girl or otherwise.

So, decades on, what to report about my contemporary spinsterly existence?

It’s a full life, punctuated by good works.

*Like when five years ago I made a *Hummingbird cake and took it to work – in my pristine spinster plastic container – to brighten up the day of stressed colleagues. * Tip: Add extra tinned crushed pineapple for a more ‘velvety’ Hummingbird. 

*Like when I taught my nephew (don’t worry, his name will come to me soon) to drive  for a very reasonable fee…..

*Like when I wanted to be a role model for other not so self-assured spinsters by aiming to be on the cover of ‘New Idea’ as the Pacific Rim’s most sexually active spinster….

Get ready, authentic Spinsterspeak coming your way…….

WHAT A HOOT!

 * Honestly, I’m far too busy to be lonely but I’d  still love to hear from you – whatever your status! Divorced men without bitter bones in their bodies and hidden superannuation  funds - SHE’S not gonna get a cent of it -  most welcome…..

As always, everything valid. We all know the truth. If I was married with obnoxious kids and a great career you’d take notice of my prompts. But, I learnt long ago not to get upset about your unruly postings. Just quietly, I love ‘em!

The Ginger Man Is Back!

*The Detox Diaries.

All this week, follow The Ginger Man’s ‘Detox Diaries’.

Unfortunately ‘things recent’ for our resident tri polar with double pike adventurer haven’t been so dandy.

His trip to Leeton to complete the doco drama The Irrigation Area Without Water has ended at the Henry Lawson Loaded Dog Detox Community Cottage, Daalbata Road.  

(cr: Pip_Wilson: flickr)

For those new to The Ginger Man – ex Bletchley Park, ex Trinity College – be very careful….

He’s addicted and addictive!

All posters take a deep breath…..and just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo – just ignore it.

A warning: This is a story that I would prefer NOT to write. It contains information of a highly IN-TI-MATE  nature and many local women will loathe me (even more) for its telling…….

BUT, I will NOT be deterred….even though my personal circumstances haven’t been dare I say ‘opportune’ for the hard road that is investigative journalism.

Suffice to say that since December 20, I’ve been involved in a CSIRO-funded project exploring whether it’s possible to survive on nothing but champagne (’Go-et the Mo-et’) and king prawn cutlets. So far, so very good…….(gulp, gulp, crunch, crunch, gulp, gulp, crunch, crunch, crunch….)

Meanwhile, back to my Walkley Award just waiting to happen. *The judges’ report will read: ‘ The ruthless trade in Riverina virgins between 1945-1972 is NOT an attractive story. Congratulations to the celibate local journalist, KJ, for bringing the shameful episode to our attention…’

(cr: Roadsidepictures: flickr)

This is the transcript of just one interview I conducted with a virgin who was traded in 1971:

‘At the time, I was a Leeton virgin working in the Rural Bank with at least 10 other Leeton virgins.

As such, I lived a typical Leeton virgin’s life…..always stemming my erotic urges by indulging in vigorous bouts of competitive basketball. My team, ‘The Marriageable Maulers’, was made up entirely of virgins. Our traditional rivals, ‘The Town Bikes’, were much, much better on the follow through.

From the age of 15 until 19, I – like other Leeton virgins – averaged about 48 dates a year. Most ended in tears. While some virgins always got off at Redfern I insisted on Mittagong which caused enormous distress for both parties.  Once, I didn’t get off until Parramatta and felt very guilty.

After the Parramatta incident (which was very messy) I KNEW I couldn’t realistically expect to maintain my virginal status indefinitely. I would have to marry. And quickly…..

Soon after I met a  confident young man at a Leeton Virgins Sans Frontieres barbecue.

‘May I introduce myself…? My name is Wazza The Rooter. Having enjoyed a wild couple of years, I am now looking to settlin’ down. Are you a virgin…?’

‘Yes, I am Mr Known Rooter but I fear that if I do NOT marry soon, I will end as captain of  ’The Town Bikes’.’

And that is how it happened. Me and Mr Known Rooter were married at 2pm the very next Saturday.

By 10:30pm we were 28 kilometres from Leeton - in the carpark of Narrandera’s Gateway Motel.

Imagine my horror when I realised we were NOT alone. At least 15 other Riverina virgins had their heads in car boots, pulling out frilly honeymoon panties and Margaret Fulton Cookbooks. I recognised some of their new husbands from the Leeton Virgins Sans Frontieres barbecue.

I don’t want to go into too many details about what happened in Room 69 of The Gateway that night.

Enough to say that when Wazza and me pulled into the truckstop at nearby Gillenbah for a late breakfast all the other ‘Gatewayers’ were already seated. The woman behind the hot food counter had seen it all before:

‘Truckies breakfasts all round with extra eggs and sausages for the Gateway sex maniacs!’

And that’s the way it happened KJ…….’ (reaches over for box of Kleenex)

Interview # 126 completed.

Well, well, well to think that thousands of Leeton ladies of a certain age started their married lives like that…isn’t that terrible?

*Note: It is generally acknowleged that Gough Whitlam intervened in the trade in Riverina virgins on humanitarian grounds. By making tertiary education free, many women were able to leave towns and decide when (usually the night of arriving on campus) and with whom (usually a boy) they would surrender their virginity.

**** As usual, would love to hear from you about anything. As I’ve always said: ‘Life is the art of the anything…’

Just quietly though, if you were part of the virgin trade (trader or virgin) it’d be terrific if you lobbed in with salacious material. *The Walkley judges are always very impressed with attachments.

SUMMER READING BONUS!

cr:Booshaka: flickr

This week, we continue the superb series, The Crustacean Capers. Join Barlowe, Private Investigator, The Ginger Man and Mr G.I.N German –  hot on the trail of  the Mr Big of the Underbelly of the murky Prawn Cutlet inner sanctum.

I’d like to say that the town of Griffith has never seen anything like it but sadly it has…..you know what I mean?

Keep up with The Crustacean Capers all week in our comments section.

All posters take a deep breath…..and just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo – just ignore it.

*GONE WITH THE (PASSING OF) WIND

*Stop Press: Gone With The (Passing Of)  Wind now showing in comments section.

You should be avertin’ your eyes. (Cr: Rachellake: flickr)
 
A Story of Romance, Civil War, Intrigue, Heroics and Defence of Southern Riverina Culture………

*You will GASP at the GALLANTRY!

*You will THRILL to the CLASH OF ARMS!

*You will EMBRACE the beauty of Scarlett O’KJ, the Leeton Belle!

*Lovely Melanie, dainty damsel of the South, will STEAL YOUR HEART!

*Captain Rhett ‘Wet’ Bubbler - swashbuckling water pirate and smuggler of  Australia’s only Dry Irrigation Area - WILL HAVE YOU ON THE EDGE OF YOUR SEAT WITH HIS DERRING-DO!

*Colonel Tony ‘Six Pack’ Ab Doman, muscular leader of men at arms, WILL MAKE ALL LADIES SWOON as he uses his People Skills to bring the Gentlemen of the Riverina into battle against the Green Yankees who BURN GRONG GRONG AND ENDANGER A THREATENED CIVILIZATION OF GENTLEMAN CALLERS.

*Sensitive Captain Ashley Turnbull – fighting for his life after falling in a skirmish -  WILL CAPTURE THE HEART OF EVERY CARING WOMAN as veteran medical officer Dr Irville  ‘Tea Bags’ Hewson tries to bring him back from oblivion.

*A Screenplay by G.I.N. German.
*Produced by Emissions Films.

*Stop Press: Gone With The (Passing Of)  Wind now showing in comments section.

….Oh go ooooon nooow. YOU can still com-ment, oh yes yo cannnn……

******ALL correspondents  just take a deep breath and  go for it!!

Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo – just ignore .

VOTING HAS STARTED! AND YOU CAN VOTE FOR KJ ONCE EVERY 24 HOURS. JUST CLICK ON THIS. SCROLL DOWN A LITTLE WAY AND YOU WILL SEE THE VOTING BOARD. CLICK ON KJ. IT’S VERY QUICK AND PAINLESS…..
http://2008.weblogawards.org/polls/best-australia-or-new-zealand-blog/

In the meantime YES SIREE……Rome was looking for that extra miracle so our very own highly strung do-gooder, Sr Mary MacKillop, can be declared a saint – and yesterday it got one!

Just two days into 2009, I secured a date – a luncheon date with the most fascinating and flamboyant man in the whole Riverina.

But before I tell you anything more, I must show you the site of my very best date up until yesterday. When? Second Millenium, lateish. Where? The superb deco screening facility, The Roxy Theatre, Leeton. Co-dater? Mr G. Manners. Film? Here We Go Round The Mulberry Bush. And why was it a 10/10 date? Because the two parties turned up (which I found in subsequent years - was NOT something to take for granted!).

Credit: anster, flickr (more…)

Pic: An unguarded moment: KJ & Big Swifty after historic recording session. Dec 04 2008. Studio 252, ABC Headquarters, Sydney, Australia. Jesus I Could Do With A Root (All I Want For Christmas) sequel imminent. Re-live the magic: Hear it again and again!

JESUS I COULD DO WITH A ROOT (All I Want For Christmas)

The day I let myself go. And I’m NOT talkin’ a dirty old Your Rights At Work T-shirt in Aldis; I’m NOT talkin’ 15 weeks regrowth (you tell me, woman or racoon?) and I’m NOT talkin’ four fake fingernails backed up by seven nasty naturals.  No, I’m talkin’ CHANGED woman.  I’m talkin’ reachin’ in, gropin’ around, cryin’ out: Anyone there, anyone at home…..? And then, an inner-voice, a voice I haven’t heard before, comin’ right back at me - IT’S ONLY YOU KJ, JUST YOU. OPEN THAT DOOR, KJ. IT’S YOU, JUST YOU..! (more…)