The Queen & I

There was no Queen and I.

Knocked back for royal media credentials, my attendance at Brisbane Airport when Her Majesty landed on Monday was from the rather picturesque position of behind the barbed wire.

Before our head of state landed, I did have a brief exchange with Premier Anna Bligh, who wandered over to the part of the fence where my dear friend and fellow journalist Robyn were standing.

"Had to come over and say hello," she chirped, "...because I thought 'Oh look, there's Girl Clumsy in red'."

Now first of all, it was more like a burnt orange, but what the hey, and second...



...ANNA BLIGH CALLED ME GIRL CLUMSY.

Not quite sure what to make of that. It was a crossing of the Twittersphere and IRL that cannot now be uncrossed.

Tell you what though, the Premier really was wearing red.

In case the election doesn't work out,
Anna Bligh can resume her career as a stage hypnotist.

Turns out the Queen's protocol people wouldn't dish the goss on the Queen's expected outfit, and so to try to avoid a clash, Anna Bligh took a punt on red because "I figured it was the colour she was least likely to wear."

The things you find out hanging around barbed wire fences.

After seeing a brief glimpse of "spearmint" (or perhaps "pistachio") -robed royalty, I tootled back towards Southbank to see Elizabeth R's public procession.

As an aside, on the way there, I saw possibly the saddest thing I've seen all year.

This is not right.
This is not right at all.

On to Southbank, where the crowd was so stupendously mammoth, that I did not even catch sight of Her Majesty's hat. There were more people squatting on others' shoulders than there were camera phones held aloft.

I did, however, snog a bear.

"I know a guy in a white van who would love this."

No idea what the hell that was about. Just some dude dressed as a giant teddy bear, with a handler holding a handwritten sign saying "Show Some Love Australians".  I can't wait for the handler's photos to turn up on some sort of furry fan website.

Speaking of furries and all things bizarre and internet-based, I continue to rehearse my next show - How To Be a Man - at a cracking pace.

Yesterday I had to dig out an old prop from He Died With a Felafel in His Hand, so it can make an eye-watering return appearance in HTBAM.

The damn thing never did get a nickname, so I've started a competition amongst the cast. My suggestions included "Captain Fleshy" and "Cocktimus Prime". Some of the others so far: "Dong the Merciless"; "Richard Dixon", and the simple yet elegant "Christopher Pyne".

I can't believe after over 20 performances and several years stashed away in a props bag the suction cap is still working. I don't even know why it has a suction cap.

No kitchen can afford to be without one!

I realise, yes,  I have somehow managed to link Her Majesty the Queen to a fairly dodgy marital aid.

You can now insert your own jokes here.