Gorgeous Mel after banana cake in caramel syrup.
Dear Pete came up from melbourne to grace our humble sydney-siders with his melbournian hautiness . So after jabbing needles into people for 6 hrs i ran home to change and rushed out to Paddington to meet him and marvelous Mel who, by contrary reports has not permed her hair, one can only ponder about effects the barometric pressure has on our lives, such facinating lives.
With a quick pizza and drinks beneath a flat-screen television and hoards of men in shirts 1/2 size too small, fat is still fat no matter how hard one tries to manipulate sweat-shop stitching.
We cantered down oxford street with petes facinating friend Jordan, who downed vitamins then proceeded to wipe her lips with a tube of, lip balm (i hope it was lipbalm but it looked strangely like a tube of, toothpaste) inbetween drinks and vegetarian pizzas. What is a vegetarian pizza anyway.

Stomped into Lounge, it's still there after all this time , proceeded to drink and mark off potential victims, it wasn't hard, the room was filled with them. Especially this hideous university student who wore a backless top, too much back Mel quipped as i downed another scotch. Young and fat in fluro-cotton-elastine blend. I'm so glad i'm not part of that generation.
John joined us and the party was in full swing, hopping over to deans for some luxuriously heavy banana cake in caramel syrup, chocolate mudcake sprinkled with walnut crush and pete's sticky date pudding. The dark ambience with some soul/jazz/ghetto-ism played through out, the darkness reminded me of melbourne, it was hidden and lovely.

The day after I threw my tiny abode open for pre-high tea drinks.
Morrocan mint tea with miniature-chocolate and caramel eclairs, cat powers and Pete in fits of lung spasms, jordan and i continued on , we know an attention seeker when we see one!
Strong tea, petit cakes and good conversation and such a glorious day, spring ebbing that much closer and these shadowing days creeping darker and forlorn.

Three of us stood amongst twisting native trees , upturn small boats and a square of lawn edging onto Parramatta river, the smell of dead aquatic life and the brine that slithers through it.

High tea at the Victoria room was to be expected, i enjoyed the smoked salmon, the cucumber sandwiches in goats cheese, i've always had a soft spot for goats cheese in well made sandwiches.
Drinks, Rose infused lychee cocktail lashed with copious amounts of Gin, oh did i forget it was high-tea.
Who cares, colonialism is dead, long live re-interpretation.
i was disappointed with the staff, they weren't coloured.

Managed to poick out a fucking huge bunch of Lillies and bundled myself into a cab back to a world of struggling white carpet and walls begging to be visually raped.