Nan and Pop have hit the road from Broome with their trusty old car and caravan heading west coast to east. They’re off on an expedition to find the “Silver Sands”…. but what the hell are these Silver Sands?
It was a long haul in the old gas guzzler, affectionally known as “Betsy”, so Nan made the call – for the mission position! Yep Nan decided that even though they weren’t far from the elusive “Silver Sands”, she wanted to stop for a romantic camp at Mission Beach – because life is a bowl of cherubs!
“Nan I reckon we’ve driven the equivalent of driving up and down the length of Italy 4 times to get here! And that’s without any cafe’ stops along the way!” “Hai capito come Pop!” “What are you saying Nan, you’re speaking in foreign tongues again?”
“Yes Pop we’ve crossed the continent, we’ve done hours of barren rocky roads, battled frisky roos, snakes and ladders and even some wild emus!” “Nan they were cassowaries”. “Don’t you correct me Pop, if I say they’re wild, savage emus… then that’s what they were!” ‘Rightio Nan you’re like a fly in the iceberg”.
Although Nan & Pop couldn’t quite see the blue in the “once in a blue moon”, they plot and figure out a way to get into the ritzy Yorkeys Knob Boat club. They just need an ‘in’.
“Nan I hear they have an excellent smorgasbord”
“Yes Pop, with classy Bay Maria’s chokers with seafood I bet”
“We can hover around the marina gate or sneak around the back Nan”
“Pop, gotta remember to take some sandwich bags – we’ve never missed a loaded Bay Maria!”
“Nan there’s no place to park, unless your a bloody member!”
“Bugger that for a joke Pop… lets just slip into the commodore’s spot, he ain’t even here darl”
Like a real pro, Nan hovers around the gated entry to the marina pretending to adjust her homypeds and seizes a moment, wedging her heal into a closing gate.
Nan & Pop have got their “in” and are soon swanning on the jetty in no time.
“Aye Pop there’s nobody on this mystic tide… lets have a gander on board!”
Nan & Pop feel right at home, so much so some neighbouring yachters get friendly…
Indeed it was a mystery flight, and it just got weirder where their destination was nothing more than a prawn…..
“Hey Nan, did you hear about the crab that went to the prawn’s cocktail party? He pulled a mussel”
“Oh Pop don’t give up your day job, for crying out loud”
“You know Nan, travelling with you…can it get any better?”
“Pop – there’s always tomorrow!”
“That’s the spirit Nan”
“Tickety boo Pop…..tickety boo”
Nan hates the bloody local macramé club (what was she thinking) – she never thought she’d use her macramé to kill! “Bunch of old whiney goon bags if you ask me. I mean fair suck of the saveloy, you can’t even drink a shandy there – club rules… it’s enough to drive a body beresk!”
Meanwhile, Pop gets on a roll after swinging the clubs around the Paradise Palms golf course. Later at the clubhouse, with a few shandies under his belt, Pop talks himself up as a real-estate mogul… and actually scores a real job! His polished brogues have finally paid off…
“Darl you’ll be as popular as a rattle snake in a lucky dip”
“Nan, may your chooks turn into emus and kick your dunny door down!”
After hitting a birdie (a cockie actually) back at the clubhouse, and “full as a centipede’s sock drawer” with shandies; Pop gets the wind in his sales while yacking to the local real-estate agent – a hooker in fact. Next thing law and behold Pop’s scored himself a bloody paid job – selling homes in the area!
“Pop, I always knew you’d end up working as a hooker”
…and so “Pop’s Pick” emerges on the Cairns real-estate scene – like never before.
It all gets super chummy round the table at the golf club, and a tipsy hooker signs up for “Pop’s Pick” on the dotted line.
“Pop – I’m bloody flabbergasted. You’ve actually got a paid gig. It’s Iced Volvos every night!”
And it was just like that….. Pop decided to print up a batch of holiday snaps in his home lab and marches off to the TANK Gallery in Cairns. He couldn’t possibly think they’d get into an exhibition, but then again who thought he’d be flogging real-estate!
“Gosh can it get any better than this Nan?” “…Pop there’s always tomorrow!”
Chilled blains and all, Nan & Pop soak up the sun at the Lagoon in Cairns with an ice cool shandy. It’s one of their favourite spots. Who knows how, but Pop’s gone from real-estate mogul to world renowned artiste. His plan to get their holiday snaps into a gallery has worked. Did he slip everyone a moggy?
“It’s Mardi Gras time Pop, how FABULOUS!! I LOVE Mardi Gras and hanging out with all them fun queens, I’m quite ardamant about it”
“It sure is a good time, we always have fun. Gotta show them homoyped phobes how to have good time aye Nan.”
“Too right Pop, who needs them boring farts, when you can be ART like us, it’s so excitement. TANKS – how ritzy mitzy. Pop you really rock!”
“Nan, it’s not the rock, it’s the roll”
And it was just like that – Pop does a deal and the next thing their holiday snaps are whacked on the TANKS gallery wall. Art imitates life more than life imitates art…
For crying out loud Pop, your’e an an artiste now!! You’ve slipped our snaps into an artsy fartsy gallery for Mardi Gras, and I LOVE a bloody Mardi Gras!!
“Nan, I really believe there are things nobody would see if I didn’t photograph them”
“Pop… if you get wanky on me I’ll give you a good clip around the ears”
“The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance”
CRACK. And with one foul swoop, Nan gives Pop a clip around the ears.
“Nan, every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures”
“Pop- I think that’s a horse of an entirely different colour”
“We’ve passed a lot of water under the bridge.”
“We’ve passed a lot of water under the bridge
Nan’s so TANKED with excitement about the ‘GAZE’ arty farty exhibition she’s like a Kangaroo loose on a tennis court. With more zest than a boiled choko, she’s getting tizzied up for the opening bash. It’s Mardi Gras so she wants to stand out like a country mile in a ripe new polyester frock, and O’Sullivans is the ONLY place to go. Fossies has closed in Cairns.
Then she’s off to the local hairdressers “Knob Kutz” for a classy new doo. She’s also making her “fuel injected” fruit punch and a platter of “traffic lights” as horsederves for tomorrow’s soirée. Busy Busy Busy.
With all cylinders blazing, Pop is on a roll. With the real-state gig and now the gallery gig, their flushed enough to have Ham and Pineapple steaks back on their regliar menu! Betty Crocker’s not a shade of grass on Nan.
Pop’s so art farty Mardi Gras “GAZED” he’s walking around squirting out art quotes he’s looked up in the Webster Encyclopaedias.
Mardi Gras is always razzmatazz, Pop knows Nan will be flittering about the opening, sipping the free bubbles dancing with any cute queen while swanning around with her platters of sort after “traffic Lights”. She can be such a fag hag!Pop really loves watching Nan having good time, somehow he always ends up cornered yarning with some green peace dykes and Nan has to rescue him.
Nan and Pop can’t wait till tomorrow.
You’d think Nan and Pop would be as nervous as a long tailed cats in a room full of rocking chairs.
But cool as turned pillows, amongst a frenzied POP-ARAZZI onslaught, they arrive at the TANKS opening. Nan, the fox appointed Professor of cunning, has a masterious plan; she’s got a packet of RED DOTS tucked in her purse!
“Aye Nan… what you up to with them red dots?”
“Pop it’s all about causing a commotion, it’s a well know fact, if I slip a few red dots on and off our holiday snaps during the night, it’ll cause a real BUZZZZ. Then the arty farty mob will be grabbing our snaps faster than pluto pups at an Ethiopian Easter Show!”
“Tickety Boo Nan, I couldn’t reticulate it better – it’s time to put our mouths where their money is!”
It’s practically “RED DOT GATE” as Nan and Pop’s holiday snaps sell right off the wall like hot cakes. They’re the hottest thing since diced bread. Nan’s zany and mad-capped plan of popping red dots on and off their holiday snaps has actually worked!
Nan networks the crowd like a blue arsed mozzie, especially flirting with any cute muscly queens. A tipsy Pop flaps his gums talking up the holiday snaps like they’re some sort of ART du jour to the “Carins Post” boss! Before Pop’s paddled up a barbed wire canoe, Nan slips in and saves the day with her platter of “traffic lights”. Pop inevitably ends up cornered by a couple of greenie lesbians where Nan has to save him yet AGAIN. They’ve both been slugging down the house tutti fruitti punch those naughty drag queens have spiked.
But it’s now all about the AFTER PARTY, heaven knows the shenanigans Nan and Pop will get up to, especially with them naughty drag queens and the spiked tutti fruitti punch…gosh anything can happen! Yes it is going to be a weird night.
As Nan says “You can lead a horse to water, but a pencil has to be lead!”
The Tutti Fruitti punch at the after hours club is spiked. Nan’s formation danced her feet right outa them platform homeypeds and hitched a ride home with some buffed up queens; leaving Pop hanging out with some naughty drag queens who like to party – and they’re out to show Pop a night in Cairns he wouldn’t forget…..