Friday and i'm in love!
Be it only for a day hopeful i can forget about saturday.
This morning i woke up early and finally started on a new painting.
It's been a while, i do miss it but when you work the work that we do, the last thing i want to do is open/concentrate on anything at the end of the day. Most of the times all i want is have a long wank session to a variety of porn however i hesitate once again.

Whilst still in my pyjamas, i read OUVO since i was being art opposed to acting out the script that is, art.

And then afternoon spun round, i thought it would be an idea to give a new pair of underpants to the Amarni boy as a gift, a trifle, a trinket. He's lovely like a well preportioned persian cat.
Caught the train onwhich i witnessed a man jump round like a pogostick whilst counting backwards 456, 455, 454....
And a girl who wore a dress so short mens eyes glazed over. When she stood up two seats away from me she lifted a handful of white pleats to reveal canary yellow panties and proceeded rub her crotch on each seat handle.

No one knew how to react, some got up and left, some giggled , some ignored, one school boy dared the other to touch a seat handle their sense of humour a thin veil underwhich young hard cocks functioned.
I just took a photograph.

Coffee and smokes, bits of chestnuts falling on girls with Dior sunglasses.

I came home early, didn't want a pub-drink instead i made my own and settled down to the latest U.S VOGUE which can cause muscle strain if carried round for too long.


The day was long and evening is coming.

Oh and you must, go and cast your own message into the PEBL pond.

Sunday night was fantastic, i drank so much wine and champagne i ended up dancing to vintage madonna with Amy whilst ten-zin struggled to move 2 piece lounge and chaise back into the living room. I tried to help but i walked into the california poppy display she put so much effort in making.
Familiar faces, past and present, everyone drinking and eating gorgeous tibetan food, vegan and meat eaters catered for.
The macadamia pesto was divine.
Amy got emotional, i got emotional as we clung to each other in tears balancing a chipati and balloon-glasses filled with sauvingnon-blanc.

I was so drunk i nearly pissed myself on cityrail.

Started off a lazy friday, wall cafe, smokes, coffee, pablos-vice, more coffee and uncomfrtable roman chairs.
Thought drinks with John would be good at 3weeds, a moderate walk amongst the trash that is oxford st only to find it closed so we cruised round paddington, into Tsubi, backstreets, gorgeous topary and hairsalons with no clients but maximum attitude back all the way down to Gaslight for some vodka and tonics. I don't know but old age is the shits, i have to pee after a glass of vodka and cranberries, is it the cranberry that is making me pee? i peed twice there then on the way home on the train i nearly peed myself whilst sitting to some obese office worker reading maeve vinchy, some sunny tuscan murder/love/mystery.

I can't say this week has been eventful, work, family and kill bill 2, mysterious apparitions (there's a criteria) and the need to cook something new.
There's going to be a big party on sunday at Amys. A house warming when she had already moved in there more than 2 months, but i'm sure we will drink ourselves senseless and tell stories of our misadventours , let's hope amy wont pass out on powdered-green outdoor furniture again and i forget an item of clothing.

In other news, you can now webcam Lourdes.

Although in the past i have questioned christanity and will continue to do so, its excess and perversions, i hold true the belief that dear daddy God does have a sense of humour and Moomie Mary makes a darn good baked dinner.

I would hope so.

"Timeless are the creatures who are wise...."

With a lingering flu in full flight i stumble out to Latteria for some coffee and sun for the day was golden and teasing.
Still my smoking causes furious retreat amongst sunday society but my life isn't one of sensibility.
It was a day of sinewy winter/spring the seasons fighting for remembrance, radial sun burning with underlying plumes of lower barometric pressure, the air so crisp you could balance a teaspoon of custard on its breath.
And so slowly i slid through concrete shadows and excited deciduous cafe days .

I met up with Tim who was taking holidays from his mysterious career based in Tokyo. We had drinks at Darlo-bar then up to 3-weeds however i made a point of stopping by, Ariel.
I remembered a Venus in spurs and wanted very much to be in her presence again, to feel razor-wit and beauty .

And there she was, such eloquence and gloriana slung on a black bra strap.
If only only there was a male equivilent, if only i wasn't such a homosexual, if only so many things for what we most want can never be . And as bees fuck wildly amongst wet hibiscus i can only watch with my eyes closed.
The time fleeted by as our words exchanged, a scrawny dog sniffed about amongst books and floorboards and mentions of Pete and adelaide and the horrifying thought of sydney without spurs.

If for a moment i could imagine such a scenario would turn this world as i see it to nothing but a catacomb of dreams.

These dreams.....

After coffee at this german coffee house run by japanese people in the Queen Victoria building and window shopping at Ralph lauren, saw this fantastic suede fitted blazer, it would be so perfect .

However today, my nose wouldn't stop running, fortunately i didn't have alot of clients so i kept blowing my nose inbetween glove changes.

I want to redecorate my bedroom, make it more themed, less ecclectic and having my hair fixed because the layers have grown out but yuji is in Japan till 25th August.

Despite all this and what still is, nose running, i did manage to buy a wonderful Brioche loaf from next door.
Gorgeous buttery bread thing, french and fantastic with a chunk of jam and hot coffee.

I need new furniture.

Vivian Westwood belt, markings on skin care of fat vs skinny pants.

To think for the whole week i was feeling queasy, i thought it was the flu again, blocked sinuses, nausea, loss of appetite, loss of mojo, loss of interest in anything remotely fashionable, i knew something was serious.
However today, i managed to drag myself out to Latteria and after a serious caffine fix (their coffee seems to get stronger each time) and banana bread i head to blue spinach to check out some vintage clothes, that dior-homme jackets still there, $700 on discount but my fashion psychic connection was feeling something, somewhere else. I head over to White-picket fence , that cute guy was there, the one who sold me the grey jacket i’m wearin, “looks good on u “ he smiled, omg i nearly creamed my new calvin klein underwear, i just wanted to rip his scarf off and lick his caucasian tits but fashion comes first.
There were these two lesbians there, and it was like, i dunno, but what the fuck are u doing looking like a highschool boy?
As i was about to leave i eyed this rope thing , upon closer inspection it was a Vivian Westwood belt! My thighs had anglomania-precum oozing down.
I had to buy it.

I couldn’t contain my excitement and had to run into forbes and burton for a gin and tonic
“double?”
“yes, please tara, i’m over this detox business”

But i had to order food, it isn’t a bar, so i crumbled the apple and cinnimon friand outside whilst these yellow-eyed starlings pecked at it. I don’t like birds but for once i was grateful the friand looked used.

I ventured down to wall, thought abit of posing and another coffee was needed and stopped by a tobacconist .
My detox has truly ended but after a few good smokes i was feeling myself again, i was alive, the world was crystal clear with taste of hunger tripping on its edges.

I’m horny as a well-stroked rabbit, i may end up eating myself.

What's in your bag?

I've been immensly bored lately, haven't ventured to the cafes nor have i done any serious shopping but do i need more leather accessories?
I guess i could just blame the antartic weather or just laziness. I ate 2 bowls of pasta for lunch and just sat round in a carbo-induced state of lethargy.
I ought to clean out my wardrobe, do a stocktake to sober me up, i was thiking of buying a new laptop but i realised i have one already which i never use anymore.
Isn't that just so first world of me, i need to get a grip. Purchasing bodyshop products just doesn't do it for me anymore. On thursday i bought the new passionfruit scrub and honey conditioner only to find out whilst puting it away i already had tub of orange oil thai-body scrub and V0-bloody 5 hot oil in the linen cupboard. You can even become excessive in helping community trade.
I have my summer wardrobe ready, maybe an extra pair of jeans would be good however i may try cargo pants, the army type ones, not strictly army and not any other colour besides really-faded green.
It will be summer after all.
There's a pair i like by 'industry' but the logo is all over the pants and you know, wearing 'industry' aint something to write home about.
By the results of recent jean/pant experience i know i wont be able to fit into my 28inch waist army pants i use to slosh about in flip-flops and tight white shirt.
My life has gone up a size (or two).

I'm growing my hair long.

Anyway saturday wasn't too bad, the indian woman whom eyebrows i've permanently restructured is nearly finished, anymore and she'd look angry all the time.
One of our staff members still hasn't come back, she had a car accident apparently , so we bitched about that and ate hideously rich french pastries.

I might hit forbes and burton for lunch tomorrow actually, get back intouch with society.

I don't know about you but i've down sized my bags and such its contents. I haven't smoked (cos i haven't done the cafes much and it's winter so sitting outside has lost appeal) for weeks so i don't carry le smoking paraphinalia, shrunk my phone so now it just looks like i got a hard-on when in my pants so only thing i carry is diskman (i'm very old school) and scarf if it's cold and wallet in small shoulder bag. In summer i wont need a bag at all if i can find a new wallet that is smaller than the one i got now. The louis vuitton mini-coin/card/key pouch is cool, i guess i could do that but that means not carrying more than 2 notes and what about the organiser which i never write in?
Oh , i do need a bag to carry things after all.

I've become obsessed with 80s-90s australian trash dramas and with these rainy miserable days.

Chances and Return to eden.

However it is nice to see Sydney before year 2000.
The rows of metal coin parking meters, the sparce skyline, the sky even... there is no sky in the new Sydney.
There was a scene where a man gets out of the car dropping bottles of whiskey onto the roadside , ah the good old days.
Severe symetric-haircuts, shoulder pads, off-shoulder elastic gypsy tops but in matt-white, Jenny kee, those bloody Jenny Kee knits... like ken done on acid, like acid in general....

Why? i don't know... life is strange sometimes.

I've been chatting to my dear itallian friend sylvia lately, i miss her very much as we use to go clubbing and get pissed euro-style opposed to korean style with amy which is more sedate. Sylvia we go crazy and laugh, amy we burst into tears telling each other secrets and mumbling kim-chi receipes.

Sylvia likes brazillian cock.

So anyway i went and got my tax sorted, i paid less tax this year which means i get less back, i kind of feel dejected but then all this free time i've enjoyed lounging round cafes all day. There's always a price to pay.
The accountant was an accountant to the word, he even wore a school-blue wool vest and had this chin hair which barely skimmed his masculinity. I couldn't get horny with that guy even if i did a boxful of GBH.
However it's all done and that's one less thing to worry about.

Work has been alright, busy, not busy, busy , not busy etc... people.. hair.... needles... blunt pencils.

I'm waiting for my new dvd box sets to arrive so i can cocoon myself again , and i'm getting fat, i blame my belief that quitting smoking would be good for me.

You just get fat, it's happened before.