A sad, grey old lady, not long for this life, dragged her muddy arse into the upper end of the ghetto this week. But we can talk about my mother some other time, the Kitty Hawk also arrived. Imagine my surprise to awaken to the sight an aircraft carrier, replete with all those threatening looking jets on deck, berthing outside my window! Imagine their surprise if their first sight of Sydney was me rolling out of bed and fumbling for a ciggie. I imagine mixed mumblings of 'dang! I gonna git me some of dat!' and 'sweet lordy, I wonder if its too late to feed that one to a dingo?' My first thought was, 'are they carrying nukular weapons? What if they've come to liberate us and they bomb Woolworths? I love Woolworths. Its where we Potts Point poofs check out what everyone else is wearing this month. Deep v-neck tees are back in? Why wasn't I told? But back to the Big Boat... It was the other inevitable invasion that was to prove most entertaining, the influx of Kev's and Kylene's, their mums and dad's and their seventeen children, three in a pram, one still in the oven, from those fabled lands west of Redfern (W.O.R.) that always come to see a Big Boat. I wonder momentarily what they do for entertainment W.O.R. Potts Point, my home, is always an interesting cultural mix/clash, trapped between Kings Cross, Woolloomooloo and the sea. In such a brief few blocks, the street talk can go from "I'm gonna cut you Shannon..." to "...so how did the anal bleaching work out?" But this addition of lost wanders from W.O.R. (Worries) and 5000 American sailor twinkettes makes the mix unique. At the cafe, Kylene wants to know, "do you do pasties?" while the lanky black boy from the ships is only interested in fries and the Potts Point queen is concerned that the olive tapenade for bruncheon will make him bloat. The latter has his mobile raised permanently, he last unbent his arm in 1999. Mobile is the status symbol of the area, the larger the lcd, the larger your penis, (apparently.) Personally, I have an iphone by Abercrombie and Filth with a Foxtel connection, GPS AND I have a schlong by Kong, so there. Kev has a digicam from K-mart that the callous sophisticates of PP mock, while Kylene eyes the passing fleet and has secret desires of black willy in her wendy. One of her brood has been bawling for 45 minutes. "Charlene, if you don't stop that I'm gonna whack you," threatens the mother. "My Gawd, what is that thing making that awful noise?' thinks the queen, and has the afterthought, "the baby's noisy too." He decides to speak up, "Excuse me Miss Maybelline, can you make that thing be quiet?' Kev reacts quickly, enquiring whether PP poof 'wants a fat lip?' As PP poof has obviously spent about $3k on collagen injections, I'd say the question is redundant, and move on further up the road. A policeman explains to a sailor that when the little green man appears on the crossing signal, its safe to cross the road. The sailor looks confused. Where the little green man go when the red man come out? And a buxom local sex worker purrs at another passing group, 'come on boys, don't be shy; come and look some pussy in the eye,' to which one of the group responds, 'no thank you ma'am.' The impeccable manners seem as out of place in Kings Cross as a polysyllabic word or a rounded vowel. Still, maybe the sailor is gay. I do quick mental calculation of how many of the 5000 sailors might end up in gay clubs this weekend. And the sex clubs. It's a temptation but I remember a beautiful marine once who regaled me with tales of his time in Iraq as we smoked up the post coital glow and made me want to ask for my sperm back. Oh, I know they are saving us all from terrorism. But no one ever mentions that you have more chance of dying from AIDS or a car accident than from a terrorist attack. Still, if one ever does pop out from under your bed, you can always throw your fridge magnet at him. Not me, I returned mine, 'sender pays,' smart arse that I am. Of course the local authorities have used the visit to play cowboys and tow away lots of cars without warning and demand locals show them some ID. Who knew my gym card is not ID? How VERY dare they? Just wait til tonight. I have decided it will be a fun welcome to the US Navy if I get up on the roof and play my laser pen along the decks of the Big Boat. Won't they be surprised? My what fun we will have.

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