Jan 17 2011
Jan 17 2011
Dec 22 2010
There once was a car named the Peugeot RCZ
It came out of nowhere, leaving the Batmobile for dead
The Batmobile fought to catch up but it was all in vain
The RCZ was already in Main Ridge, bathing in champagne.
Nov 21 2010
A SUNDAY AFTERNOON, TWO YEARS AGO
It’s a beautiful day for a drive in the Batmobile. The Tubby twosome are heading down the Moorooduc Highway, otherwise known as Rue de Roundabout, bound for Red Hill on the Mornington Peninsula. They are on time for their 12.30 date with winery restaurant Paringa Estate.
The exit sign for Red Hill appears on the road ahead. Tubbymaster glances across at Tubbymistress, who is playing with her iPhone in the passenger seat.
TUBBYMASTER: Is it this turnoff?
TUBBYMISTRESS (vaguely): No, I think it’s the next one. I’m sure we’ve gone past that bridge before.
TUBBYMASTER: It says ‘Red Hill’. Should I turn off or not?
TUBBYMISTRESS: No, take the next exit.
The Batmobile sails past the Red Hill exit. They are now late for their 12.30 date with Paringa Estate.Paringa Estate
Oct 19 2010
ONE EVENING, RIGHT BEFORE DAYLIGHT SAVINGS STRUCK A MUCH-NEEDED MATCHSTICK OVER MELBOURNE
Tubbymistress is walking down Sydney Road, in search of friends and food. On her hit list is Tom Phat – not an obese nor ‘fully sick’ man named Tom but a funky Thai-style restaurant firmly on the radar of her friend, Miette.
It’s cold, and she clutches her straw-coloured handbag even tighter as she scours the buildings for street numbers. As soon she sees Tom Phat, she scurries inside, relieved to be off the street and minutes closer to being fed.Tom Phat
Jul 31 2010
A SUNDAY MORNING, ANY TIME OF YEAR
Tubbymaster is sitting at his desk, a white-wash trestle table upon which his iMac is perched. As he taps out an email, he hears the nearby television stutter then hop to yet another channel. He glances over his shoulder at Tubbymistress, who is reclining on the couch, lazily flicking between channels in an attempt to find something other than football panel shows.
TUBBYMASTER: What do you feel like doing today?
TUBBYMISTRESS: I don’t know. What do you feel like doing?
Jul 18 2010
EARLY ON A SUNNY SATURDAY MORNING
The Tubby Two are jogging along the beachside track, Tubbymistress a nose ahead. Clad in black leggings and a long-sleeved jogging shirt – and completely into the zone thanks to Kelly Rowland’s ‘Work’ – she is moving with unexpected gazelle-like grace.
A short shirtless man looms up on the track, heading toward her. Shirtless Man isn’t dripping with sweat but overt jogging superiority, decked out with an iPod armband, silver earphones and a suspicious winter tan. He is also smack-bang in the middle of the track and not showing any sign of moving across.
As he approaches, Tubbymistress steps off the track to avoid a collision. He swooshes past like an express train hurtling through a station. She glances over her shoulder at Tubbymaster, and frowns. ‘Do you think he even saw me?’The Graham
Jul 13 2010
SOMETIME ON A SATURDAY AFTERNOON
The Batmobile is sitting at a busy intersection, waiting for the green light to continue its assault on Melbourne’s streets. In the front passenger seat, Tubbymistress is gazing outside as the sun dances on the window and the light turns to green.
A building catches her eye on the precipice of Port Melbourne. It looks like an old pub, one that has been dipped in a giant bucket of gunmetal grey paint.
TUBBYMASTER: What is that place?
TUBBYMISTRESS (shrugs): I don’t know. Some dodgy place, probably.The Palace by Luke Mangan
Jul 5 2010
Once upon a time, in a winter wonderland called Melbourne, there was a lady called Tubbymistress and a tapas-slash-jamon restaurant called Portello Rosso. Their long-awaited rendezvous took place on an icy Saturday night in June – not so much a meeting of minds as a meeting of empty stomach with Spanish-inspired food …Portello Rosso
Jun 20 2010
SOMETIME IN THE LATE 1980s
Little Tubbymistress is sitting on the carpet in her primary school classroom, cross-legged, petite and shy. Despite her small stature – and a brain that has never loved processing numbers – she has no hesitation belting out the 10 times table with three other children in her class, harmonising in the monotone, singsong way that primary school children do.
As she sang, Little Tubbymistress could not know that basis mathematics (and a lack of research) would be her undoing some twenty years later. In May 2010, a section of Russell St became a catwalk for the hungry and navigationally challenged, as three Melburnians searched in vain for one elusive number.
LITTLE TUBBYMISTRESS (sings earnestly): Fifteen 10s are … hun-dred and fiff-ty!Izakaya Den
Jun 2 2010
A SUN-DRENCHED SPRING MORNING IN FRANCE
Tubbymistress is standing in Monet’s Garden in Giverny, France, shoulder-to-shoulder with an American couple. It’s a warm morning but, despite the influx of tourists to this small, floral oasis, it’s surprisingly serene and calm.
Inspired by the works of impressionist painter Claude Monet, the gardens are immaculately conceived and maintained. Weeping willows lean casually over the pond; beds of tulips (vivid reds, yellows, pinks and mauves) stretch toward the sky as if competing for the attention of the sun; dainty roses climb and twirl around iron arches that frame the central walkway. It’s living artwork, enchanting fodder for the many camera lenses working hard for their money.
A world away, a restaurant called Bistro Vue springs to life, imbued with the kind of charm and appeal found by the tulip-bed in Giverny. This carefully constructed slither of old-world Paris immediately piques the curiosity and appetite of Tubbymistress, a twenty-something with an unfortunate penchant for killing plants.Bistro Vue