Heavy Plant

Walk past a "Heavy Plant" warning and wonder vaguely if the trees thought it was for them; if whoever put it up had enough imag...


Choices, choices...

Imagine for a moment that you have little or nothing to do this weekend. Then imagine that you have two conflicting invitations; the first is to a Samba night, the second to a Tupperware party. Which one do you pick?

Come on now, judge them on their merits. At the Samba night you will have the perfect excuse to drink many, many delicious Caipirinha. At the Tupperware party you will get the full retro experience. You might even be invited to a coffee morning, or a jumble sale, or a wife swapping party…

Without being rude to anyone that is involved in either of these events what kind of choice is that for a Saturday night, I mean bloody honestly? I know you social life dies down a touch as you get older but I’m only 28, how did it come to this?

Tupperware parties have been around so long that Ann Summers have pinched their business model and made it their own. And Samba/Salsa well I can’t dance before the eighth drink of the night but after that critical threshold I suddenly find my feet. Unfortunately reality reasserts itself at the eleventh drink and I realise that I hate dancing, everyone around me and life in general. After this point I generally fall over. There is a slim three drink window of opportunity in which I am unselfconscious enough to dance and still sober enough to put one foot in front of the other. This is a delicate balance that I have little experience of and not the slightest interest in maintaining. Ballroom dancing is a big competitive sport out here - mind you so is telling fishing lies and hyperbole in general – and I don’t fancy being shown up as badly as I would be (if you haven’t seen it you should watch Strictly Ballroom, it will give you some idea of how seriously the Aussies take just about anything competitive).

I have opted for the Tupperware party. I might bring the Ann Summers thing up every now and then, not often enough to get on their nerves but enough to make the point. Approximately once every ten minutes should do it. I wonder if Tupperware do any of the plastic moulding for them…


  1. I am shocked and appalled.

  2. Oh how I wish I had your glittering social life.

  3. It wasn't bad for a tupperware party - 2 of the attendees copped off together and I've got a blazing hangover this morning.

  4. Well I had the pleasure of talking to you whilst you were at said Tupperware party and you sounded like you were having a whale of a time. Well pissed anyway!

  5. Sarah, Em could only vaguely remember speaking to you the next day and spent a grand total of 4 hours dressed and out of bed!

    The tupperware woman got fairly short shrift from us. You can't charge $80 for a plastic box and not expect me to take the piss out of you...

  6. Trust me Tom - Em was far more coherent than you were!

    I never knew a Tupperware perty could be so outrageous. And not just the prices of the God damn plastic boxes. My mum was quite jealous. Apparently the boxes you get these days in Tesco's are nowhere near as good as the Tupperware from the 70's!