Scroll down if you want to get straight to the game. Dawdle on if you want to know why I hate Elvis.
Reasons to be late with the RSM this week (also, if you pay attention, reasons to hate Elvis):
- Lots of work - no, really, stop laughing. I have been terribly, terribly busy and important for most of the week.
- Lots of play - Wednesday lunch that turned into a seven hour session on Darling Harbour courtesy of Julie (for organising fantastic lunch at Georges) and Tony for providing just enough incentive to kick on and watch the sun go down from the upstairs bar at Pier 26
- I should also thank my boss for having the decency to be away on Wednesday and leaving me guilt free in skiving off for the afternoon.
- By the time I got home about 7-ish on Wednesday - RSM day - I was just a little too relaxed to be sure of the difference between Depeche Mode and Mondo Rock so the 80s popstars were postponed and I watched Spicks and Specks instead, then The Extras. I had desperately hoped this new show would be an adequate substitute for the unexpectedly brilliant Absolute Power . Sadly, The Extras failed to raise a single smirk , although I am willing to give it one more try because my hatred for Ben Stiller (this week's guest star and a total goober) may have tainted the show. Oh. Also being pissed didn't help. Will try for at least semi-sober next week.
- Also, by the time I got home Wednesday there were other things to do. Like eat the meal of lamb cutlets and vegetables, lovingly and perfectly prepared by the Professor.
- And open presents.
- Are we getting any closer to why I hate Elvis yet?
- Wednesday = 16 August.
- 16 August 1977 = the day Elvis died
- I was 10.
- My best friend arrived at school and I waited for her to say happy birthday. Instead she says, "My mum was crying this morning". "Why?" I asked, still waiting for the chance to brag about my beautiful new double bridle and black velvet riding cap. "Don't you knooooow?" she exclaims. Nope. Nor had my world at that point ever included the kind of adult who would weep (fer fuck's sake) over the death of a celebrity. My double bridle could never compete with the thrill of a weeping mother.
- E.V.E.R.Y. year since then my birthday has been drowned in Dead Elvis memories with freakish Elvis media mourners ensuring I have to listen to their ridiculous bleating about how the world stopped the day The King died.
- Worse, because he died when I was 10, every significant decade for me has been a significant landmark for the Dead Elvis freaks.
- And how good is your maths? Because this year it was 29 years since Elvis died and yes, next year's party is already being planned.
- Will Elvis feature in any way at my party next year?
RSM #3 - 1980s popstars.
I'm not going to try the pics again until I work out Flickr. Follow links on each name if you need to be reminded how they worked as eye candy way back then.
Let's hear it for the boy!
3. Billy Idol
Yes, I deliberately restricted your choice to one haircut. That way you can't let the music interfere with your judgment. Be grateful I withdrew Boy George and George Michael. It was a near thing.
Girls just want to have fun!
1. Kim Wilde
2. Kim Carnes
this one was way too hard. Next week's theme is open to the audience, leave your suggestion with your comment!