I love to laugh…. well because it reduces stress, strengthens the immune system, lowers blood pressure and because the absurd and ridiculous are everywhere and great fun to write about.

I love comedy so much I once entered the Triple J Raw Comedy Stand-up awards and I have the certificate to prove it!

Wow!  That was a nerve-wracking experience. I didn’t win but I loved getting into character and into my costume. My alter ego was the slightly pathetic Cynthia, who was getting very good wear out of her little black dress (teamed with fetching veil) as she attended a never-ending procession
of funerals for late boyfriends. Poor girl couldn’t take a trick; her first heartthrob Damien, a base jumper, met an untimely fate trying to impress her with a quick leap from the Summit Restaurant. From there the list
of fatalities went on and on... It’s far too distressing to talk about here.

My stories have appeared in community newspapers, including my local The Bondi View, Traveltrade and The Australian.

BABY loves to cha-cha. I decided to take dancing lessons again. I thought a healthy amount of time had elapsed since my last foray into the fandango. I thought it was safe to go back onto the dance floor. This time I was doing it alone. It had been several years since I last signed up with the local evening college to learn Latin and Ballroom. Then, all those years ago, my partner and I were bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and eager to learn the fancy footwork. The jive, rumba, foxtrot, quickstep and waltz beckoned. We were particularly interested in the waltz. The bridal waltz. For James – that was the clumsy oaf’s name – and I were to be married.
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MEN are at their best when they’re focussed. There’s no better sight than a man fully absorbed in his work. And as the summer months draw near, the beach is the ideal spot for a bit of man-watching. Strolling along the beach the other day I spied a chap totally and fully absorbed in his task of building a sandcastle. Long shadows were starting to fall on the white arc of sand and the man’s child was utterly bored. Just a little further away, another man was making a castle for a kiddie nowhere in sight. And God love ‘em,
I thought, there seemed to be a bit of the old macho competition at play.

SOMETIMES you just have to settle for the “Oh, what a feeling,Toyota!” chicken lover. I mean if that’s their only fault, they can’t be too bad. It took many bounced rent cheques and a lot of heartache for me to come to this conclusion. David, the last of a long line of flatmates, would sit on the sofa, as happy as Larry, with the remote control and flick through the TV channels. He was looking for the Toyota chicken ad. He loved that chicken. You know the one that gets hit by a truck, then pops up all dazed and bewildered with half its feathers hanging off. David would squawk along with that chook and then laugh his head off.  Bless him…he was 28. 

TODD, our guide, had certainly got us excited when he sat us down in
the Big Brother café to fill in one of those disclaimer forms.
We had to acknowledge that while in the Big Brother House we might see nudity, hear obscene and offensive language and witness behaviour of an adult nature. We were all pumped for an X-rated adventure. But first we had to get our gear off and put on a black cotton jumpsuit, which would enable us to blend in with the darkness as we walked behind the scenes, peering in at the housemates, guided only by Todd’s whispers and torch.  

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For further information and to commission
a story, contact Caroline

ph: (61 2) 9365 7185
mob: 0413 657 552
email: caroline@carolinegladstone.com

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