Comedy Season 2026

Published May 4, 2026 by helentastic67

Comedy Season 2026

Comedy season 2026 has not even begun and I’m putting out spot fires in my social life. To be fair, I don’t manage to get through the comedy season and blog about it because I’m too busy coping and enjoying that little bit of joy and laughter also known by others as shits and giggles one hour at a time.

Apparently, once out I make it look easy, but its anything but, in reality it starts late in the previous year when dates start to be announced. I ask friends including carers if they would be interested, if they have preferred days, if they can go, do, stay, all the things. I don’t want to miss out on good tickets so I can see hear, appreciate, enjoy and laugh. And get there and home again in one piece.

I can’t do things at night. If I have things on during the day. I can’t do things during the day if I’m planning to be out at night. I don’t even have a diary for the following year when I start the planning.

I have a few carers that do my bookings. They don’t all happen online, some require calls. I get two tickets for the price of one because I have what’s called a Companion card, because I can’t go unless someone accompanies me.

I went to see the Prodigy in 2025 and a security woman walked up to me and my companion before I got to join the queue and she ushered us past the crowd. She saw that I had disabilities, she asked a few simple questions and she handed us over to the next P.S.O. who asked to check my bag. No, I was not trying to smuggle in alcohol or drugs even. The first P.S.O. had asked if I had my meds in it? I just said Sure. I just have a big bag. I like to buy a band T-shirt to wear as a way to express my interests to the world. Summer is good for that. During winter my look is more “Don’t fucking mess with me!”

Anyway, I digress, the first comedy tickets I booked was Danny Buoy as you may have guessed from a recent post.

The tickets for the event were in Ballarat. Often referred to as The Rat. A friend from my days working at the place only ever mentioned as Voldemort. I have often referred to him as my Gay Silver Fox, on account of all those things. I usually call him by Mr and his surname out of respect as at Voldemort he was my boss. On a rare occasion I’ll hastily say his first name to get his attention quickly and he looks sharply at me. It’s very amusing to us.

My grand plan to get to the Rat. I asked a carer who has a friend put there if she could drive me out there, help me with PC (Personal Care) and drive us home again so I could do all the things and cover her travel. She said, “We’ll work something out!”

To cut a long story short this translates as I got tickets, and a month or so out from the event when trying to lock in a commitment she was heckers busy. And I was left trying to put a band aid on a bullet wound. Trying to find a way out there without doing a tram and a train with a walking stick one-handed and a small suitcase, for a few hours. I had hoped to see Gay Silver Fox’s home. He only buys houses over 100 years old and renovates them. I’ve seen two or the three houses he’s owned. And had been prepared to sleep on his couch, if need be, to make it all work. I had hoped to visit two sisters while out there. My friends I rarely get to see, they are sisters. I had wanted to deliver care packages. Bottles of prepared bolognaise, Portuguese tarts, panettone, Anzac cookies. I just mean, Nona was coming to town and she doesn’t mess around. Look at that, I’m a poet.

Closer to the date, stressed and anxious trying to solve the logistical nightmare of what was to be a nice country adventure to start the comedy season, and a few calls to Gay Silver Fox and he rang on the Wednesday before to ask where we were with the plans. I’d managed to plan to taxi out there, half price taxi would have been pricey however, in for a penny in for a pound! Gotta, make it work and I’d secured my Sunday carer to drive out, do my PC and drive us home again on my funding.

Are you frustrated yet? Do you want to self-harm? Don’t do that, but strap in. At this point I can imagine my Mum asking frustrated why had I bothered? Why did I get tickets out there? I will answer that at the end, but it’s where his shows were booked at the time.

I updated Gay Silver Fox on the master plan and he sadly informed me he could no longer do any or all of the above. He was offered extra responsibility and work at his job and he needed to take it. Because he needs the work going through a messy end to a relationship.

Sometimes, I hate that I can change gears so quickly to help the other person feel better about my disappointment. All around it’s the right thing to do.

In the end, my lovely Sunday carer drove us out there and back the night of, Boss coffees provided by moi and tunes. Efficient and it ended up raining the Sunday morning so would not have been a fun drive for my lovely assistant.

So, sometimes, I wish what the final plan would look like, so I didn’t waste my time with band aids on bullet wounds.

And the angry retort I would have for my mother whom I love would need to be “Because how dare I try to do or have a life of simple pleasures that other people take for granted as so easy? How dare I?”

Sometimes, it is exhausting simply existing with disabilities and trying to have even simple pleasures is not worth the battle, or are they?

P.S. P.S.O. Personal Security Officer.

P.P.S. I will one day explain all things Voldemort but it’s a very big can of worms. Once opened it will be a lot. I’m not anywhere near ready to go there.

Comedy

Published December 6, 2019 by helentastic67

Comedy

You have all heard comedy is the best medicine. Well, it’s probably not going to cure cancer or get my Pap Smear done. But however, I’m just suggesting laughing is better than crying.

Patch Adams

I will record comedy on late night TV on my Toppy (Topfield) and these days as my kitchen, lounge and dining area is all in one. I will put on some comedy while I cook, for company. A young Aussie comedian is talking about how hard it is to get a fitted sheet on a bed. So,

In the last place I lived I had three bedrooms; I know rich right! No, it was a dump, it was hot and the landlord was a creep. But it allowed me to have a study and a spare room with a single bed for when friends or family stayed over.

The sheet changing day, I would have my morning carer take the sheets off, so I could get them in the machine, then on the line. I would usually get out clean sheets and put them on the bed so my next carer could just get stuck in. Mostly. This particular day I had gotten distracted, didn’t get them out. My next carer arrived, no sheets. She asked which colour I wanted and I suggested she choose. Honestly, I am in my ‘Oh white sheets place, I get it now’ faze and the other set I have is say a French Chocolate-grey. (Yes! I’m that chick)

Now, also whatever sheet is in the washing machine, the other goes on the bed. Two weeks on, two weeks off. I wear pyjamas, so it’s not an eeeww moment. I told her to pick.

She called to me from the bedroom to the lounge several times and not waiting to be distracted, I suggested she choose.

I thought I was empowering her to be independent. I’m like so, made to be a mum, right? This carer is still my regular and I really love her. She is often mistaken as my daughter, but that’s another story.

Eventually, she came to me with a barrage of questions and I put what I was doing aside and went with her to the bedroom. I got to the door and stopped.

“Are you sure these are for this bed?” she asked me.

The sheets were light purple, they went on the single bed. Oh, sweet Jesus! I just laughed.

I told her I was laughing with her, not at her and she informed me how hard it had been to get it on the bed.

But she didn’t find it as funny as I had. I suggested I wouldn’t do it to her again, however I did ask if she struggled again, could she come get me so I could watch.

I call this carer my Girl Friday and these days she is also my Girl Wednesday and once a month, my Girl Tuesday. We laugh a lot as we had built up the rapport to do that which is nice.

More about my Girl Friday another day.

Today’s Lunch – 11th September 2019

Published September 11, 2019 by helentastic67

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Another mid-week post, it’s not getting old. Good food, better medicine. My favourite cafe never gets old. What gets old is doing adult so much it’s squeezing time to eat and write into oblivion. Note, the less lunch my lunch resembles and more like afternoon tea.

Yesterday, was at the self-advocacy group I attend. Picked up some comedy tickets for next March! Yippy! Stay tuned for that!

Here is a photo of what’s referred to as the witches’ hat in the Arts Precinct in Melbourne.

Note the beautiful spring day in Melbourne.

Today’s offering is Carrot cake and medicine (One of my serves of vegetables every day!) and the pretty strawberry daiquiri my lovely assistant is having.