Met up with eric, the frenchman who's trying to draft up some constitution of internet ethics , darling.
We talked about art and concepts which we may collaborate on whilst graizing at forbes and burton. They've re-stocked on gin and er..we halved the stocks?

I didn't realise how powerful cigars have become a symbol of resistance.

I didn't realise breakfast juice is high in fibre which explains the results of my recent obsession for it.

Bought a delightful jersey day-jacket at white picket fence .

There is nothing quite like shopping and a gorgeous lunch.

The place is crawling with fashion week residue, australian fashion week, contradiction in terms.
I really cannot stand the recent t-shirt deconstructive dressing, it looks so meaningless. Cutting the collars out of K-mart shirts doesn't constitute fashion. Lack of creativity , most importantly creative support, has resulted in australian fashion being nothing but the toilet brush to european collections.

Can someone tell Morrisey, Tom ford has left Gucci years ago and is now desiging perfumes.

I don't know where to start when i was staring at the end.
Yesterday was andrews last supper as he has flown out to tokyo now and then london for several years. All our closest friends were there at JuJu's whooping it up as Joan crawford once said.
We drank sake like it was coming out the tap...hot and cold... i drank so much sake this morning my eyeballs were dehydrated.
It was sweet though.. all through this week it was sad goodbyes for him so to have a happy farewell was good.
We left soon after a bunch of drunk middle-aged americans started to sing karaoke, back to his place as a departure point/meeting point for it has been routine for years, we said our goodbyes to friends knowing it will never be the same again.
I hung round abit, he was going to austins to sleep before the airport tomorrow.. it was kind of awkward for us to say goodbye. We never really were emotive in our friendship.. we were just very good friends and i loved him as one because he wasn't afraid to be honest with every facet of his personality, no kid gloves just him and that i'm very grateful for.
When the car arrived we shook hands and laughed "cheers, it's been great, thanks alot" lol we quote so many people... as this was happening Deb messages me and i call her and had a brief but drunken converation.
As we were going down the terrace steps for a brief moment we recognised the emotional value that kept us close a realibilty and honesty that is so rare.
I ran out into the winters night and he into the safety of the yellow bathroom.

My mother is drunk and i''ve got the camera ready.

It's War veterans day and a wonderful way to celebrate is to have a toast or two in honor of our fallen comrades.

You can tell where i got my alcohlism from, it's my mothers fault, everythings goes back to mother.
So we open a bottle of vintage brandy, it looks inncoent enough in it's pretty purple packaging , brandy glasses anyone?

So after a few bottles mum and i decide to play dress up and we explored the new wave of dressing, pastels, horizontal lines.. street but colour! colour! clash it and burn... is a jade bracelet bling?

It's a fucking cold day and my fingers are frozen and my penis is lifeless i hate myself like cat powers but hey, i got to make my mother over.

i just woke up and it's 4pm. what goes up must come down as they say and i'm climbing out of a major downer.

Couldn't make it out to Latteria nor Lounge, just two steps away from my bed and two steps back. Thank god for vodka or i'd be a blabbering mess. I'm not an alcoholic, i'm not and alcoholic. i'm not an alcoholic, sometimes.

I got some great books from andrew.. Pierre Gilles books and joan crawford and bette davis biogs. plus janes mansfield who got scalped whilst going under a council truck.

I got my eye on this camera , i don't know if Leica will ever produce one of their own but considering it would be identical to this with a massive mark-up i think panansonic is the way to go.

If i drink one more glass of champagne i'll be pissing Krug darlings.

I think we put a slight dent in sydneys liquor stores when we did cases of champagne and wines and things... i emptied out my spending account hahahaha.. till the machine kept yelling out "TRANSACTION DECLINED" as i got tangled up in Amy's hair whilst waiting at the check-out.
"what? what? shit amy you need to brush your korean hair"

Surprised they didin't refuse to sell us anymore instead kept swiping our cards.
For a moment i felt embarrassed when 6 people behind us started to sing 'we are waiting...we are waiting'
And then i realised i had some cash.

So Andrews farewell kciked off slow... just 3 .. then round 9pm it got busy with people dropping by with fabulous vegetarian spring roll things wrapped in baby-soft rice noodles and gyoza dumplings encassing roast pumpkin. It was quite devine.
We drank like there was no tomorrow, Amy and i demostrated some yoga moves "amy, amy!! do corpse"
"what is thaaaat?" "handstand with one hand" "chant something...prada! versace! amarni!"
"no, no, say stella!"
"stella? who is stella?"

hahaha...

Today i had an 8am start to work and my life for a brief moment circumvent an apostrphy.

Easter is over and i'm desperate for a drink.
Infact i've contemplating a hip flask for winter so i can pour vodka into everything i drink.
With my lighter, cigarillo case, cutter and sunglasses i'm a walking accessory victim.
Whatever happened to 'down-sizing' my life?
I tried to go back onto the 'bargin-bandwagon' but left disappointed at DFO, that cattle-hall of a shopping complex. Everything was extra-large or extra-extra-extra-large. Am i feeling a little bit discrimminated against?
So i will endevour to find that cashmere wool jumper for winter tomorrow with utmost care not to go itallian-made but fustration could lead me straight to Gianni or Muicci.
Infact i remember some fabulous knitwear at david jones...mui mui or jil sandler....hmm.
Friday is farewell drinks for Andrew, but i have to work on saturday so... fuck! i can't get pissed big time. But i'll make sure the Verve,Boli,Moet flows freely.
So, tomorrow serious shopping, friday party (start 1pm till whenever), saturday work.
Oh and that rabbit turned out fucked! however i ate it anyway, was too tough but then it's never stopped me before.
My life is just one big poo that is about to creep out of the love tunnel.

Day after update.

I struggled through David Jones, all those racks of clothes but nothing in my size!! i was very stressed until i found some miu miu knitwear and to my delight a small size grey wool jumper. It was on sale so i got a massive discount, i just cannot go buying next season, it's this new money-consciousness. So i swallowed my pride and paid for a sale item.
It's miu miu though.
The crowds in the city were just too much , i wasn't in my 'dangerous' mode, just stressed out from shopping so i hopped into a cab and headed to forbes and burton to do lunch.
Gorgeous tiger prawn beansprout salad, crisp, fresh, subtle in flavour but still had 'wow' factor.
After downing several gin and tonics i hit white picket fence, nearly bough a vivian westwood jumper but ddin't i see that last time i was there???? victor and rolph very cute bomber jacket but too big.
After wandering round for a bit i managed to get into x and found a gun-metal Dior Homme wool knit jumper!!!! OMFG!!
I nearly juiced my anal track.
It fit!! so you know.. in a moment such as these one's senses are over-ridden with fashionism, so i dropped my budget out the window.

I didi pretty well today i think.

I am horribly drunk after two glasses of red, wine aint my thing. I don't normally drink wine but today i marinated the rabbit in it with bay leaves so hey, why leave the bottle half empty (or half full).
When i unwrapped the bugger from it's clingfilm coffin it looked kind of strange, then i had a peak inside and found a liver and what looks like lungs and some weird egg-shaped things so i pulled them out.
It felt so sexy pulling internal organs out of an animal.
What does that say about me?
So then i had to chop it into pieces so it can fit in the bowl and then i realised i've never cut an animal up before, how do you do it with bones in the way?
so i just chopped it with a cleaver and everything was ok.

Yesterday i helped gorgeous nori move firniture things to his apt. out west, 2hr drive on a freeway!!!
It was fun. then we did latteria back in civilization and was glamorous and fantastique with bits of the pink shagpile rug in my hair and face... weeeeee.
Nori is a wonderful boy with a not so wonderful boyfriend (looks like a piece of KFC and has the personality to match) but then i do admire him for what he is, a vet, and support him in everyway i can.
He's like the little brother i never had. awwwwwwww.
Then i got a message from the boy-with-the-beautiful-bottom saying why i haven't called him and he was sorry for falling asleep cos he was tired from clubbing and drinking the night before sounding all anxious and shit.

Me- "But, babe, you told me you never drink and never club, infact you told me you're not on the scene"
silence....
Me- "Let me tell you what, how about you go and play with your friends for a while and when i'm ready i'll let you know"

And i hung up.

I can be slightly abrupt especially to liars, however he did have a nice bottom.

Today was fun i cleaned my parents gravesite and burnt incense and spoke to relatives i have to have.

Easter fuck.

As you know my dear readers i'm not a person who kiss and tell however it's been a long time since i had a decent roll in the hay. All the previous have been...er..dud fucks or weirdos with folded tissues in their pants and one way back who had a glass-eye
"babe, i got to take my eye out so i can sleep"
"er, ok"
"do you have a glass of water for me to.."
"oh.. er.. my mother bought me these, it's czch crystal"

Geezus, that was awkward, he with a glass eye in his hand and me with a bohemia crystal tumbler in one hand.

Anyway, this bottom today well.
He promised a days worth of beach, sun, cruising round and sleep over. It ended up being some towels on his concrete balcony, he suddenly had a party to go to round 4pm. WTF????
I don't know but his face is one that could have been quite attractive when in highschool but you know, being thin isn't the only thing that makes you presentable.
I can't say he was good looking, his body was alright, not an adonis more like.. a failed olympic swimmer who fucked up his diet routine.
Thin but mis-aligned.
However like most Italians he had a thick cock and an uncontrollable urge to ejaculate at a few strokes.
His bottom was, well, beautiful.
It wasn't hairy, it had shape but hasn't fallen down,
I had a lot of fun south of the lighthouse but i think i might have gone too far when i felt his last meal.

His technique was..run of the mill...tried to be aggressive as i was.. i think he bit off my nipple.

After 4 hours he was spent and ..umm... fell asleep.
No, like..snoring type of sleep.
Now do i take that as a compliment or an insult?
With my experience with Italian men i have noticed they tend to fall asleep after sex and get quite sweaty.
Anyway 2 hrs later i got bored and aroused his member and blew him till he squirted like a can of shaken cola, darling.
This technique is best demonstrated by aggressively stimulating the penis whilst gripping the base of it, preventing ejaculation till he can't take it anymore, note colour of penis then u let it go and voila... he's a gusher.
He was quite exhausted, devastated, crumpled from my sexual prowess...MUAH HAHAHAHA.
er, not quite.

Tomorrow i'm helping gorgeous nori move furniture and visit his flat out west.

And so it is, easter is upon us with more chocolate for obese-people and their children. This year i'm avoiding the chocolate splurge because i keep seeing more fat people.....young and old. It's quite disturbing. I saw a fat school kid get caught in a sliding door, the doors just kept rebounding off him and his bug-eyes kept popping!!
no, i made that up.
I've finally found some old yoko ono cds in newtown.
It contains classics such as "greenfield morning i pushed an empty baby carriage all over the city", "touch me" and "paper shoes" inwhich she wails and buzzes like a cat on crack snorting a line of coke with a mosiquito.
Avante-guard?
She took traditional japanese kabuki-esque tones and folk music to a post-modern level. It still has resonance today regarding the free-form sounds of 'bjork' and 'indie-bands/indivduals' even though the eighties have been plundered beyond belief.
However, 2hrs of Madame Ono screeching is abit much.

dad- "what is this sound? could be the exhaust"

mum- no, exhaust pipe is new, brakes?

me- " um.... it's the cd"

dad-" ay-ya!!! it's broken!!"

i just stared out of the window.

Finally bought that books from kino. well i changed my mind actually and got 'BERLIN' 500 pages of 'after-the-war' and 'the purple journal', it makes granta whatever the UTS/University press look juvenile. Great articles, nice paper.
I was going to read all this over the easter long weekend, cook rabbit, read book, eat rabbit.
But like most things in my turd of a life, i get invited by M to go over to his place to "chill".
Should i take 500 pages of world war 2 and european angsty/social/political press to sunbake in tiny swimwear??
Or have sex for 48hrs?
It has been a while since i had a decent bottom to juice up.

Also i've been invited to some weird house warming by a couple i don't know and i have some art-essayist stalking me with 20page critique-emails of my photographs.

Haircut tomorrow and work!

i'm cooking a rabbit for easter.

I have just been told the outside chairs (milkcrates) have been removed from Wall cafe because some shit-head complained. This means there wont be anymore outdoor-coolness , nomore sunlit gorgeousness, nomore smoking!

I'm quite distressed.

And then i find a baby cockroach has drowned in my vodka and cranberry, i can't even kill it out of anger.

Atleast today i managed to do coffee and foccacia along victoria st. and meandered round halls of kinokuniya. I wanted to buy this amazing book "the occult of nazism" but it was $60 and well... i'm trying to be sensible with money.
I think i'll wait abit, forgot about the aqueous cream for winter.... it's the logical choice opposed to some gorgeous royal jelly honey creme from a french inspired boutique.
On friday there was a man asking people if they wanted their books signed, he asked me as i was walking out, i just turned to him and hissed "i don't think so".
It is then i noticed a television camera was recording the whole thing.

I've also been working out.. doing cardio which burns fat, something we can never have too much removed.
I'm seeing the results already however i must control my food intake, i managed a delightful advocado salad for sunday lunch (and lemon cream cake) but now i'm feeling a bit weak so had to do the microwave cheese macaroni. It's evil but a baby roach drowned in my cranberry and vodka so i need something to help me get over that.

My life is boring, i thought about joining a book club just to break it up.

I use to dance in heels but now i'm walking on flats.

No it's not a country western song but the new reality.

Today a female acquaintence squeezed my back and exclaimed "shit! you have more back-fat than me" .
She wasn't exactly thin.
So this afternoon started my cardio-exercise routine, an hour on the cross-trainer every other day, the other being gentle-weights to tone only.
I don't know what happened to that 28inch waistline, absurd but oh so enviable.
Anyway, i don't exactly want to be 28inches but happy with my 30-32 inch waistline but just more toned/healthier.

Can i be "healthy" and seething??? i don't want to become.. 'perky'.

i'd rather be obese.

After the cardio-work out i felt like death. I nearly fainted, i think i did if it wasn't for the Gin-vian.

Mind you i had 3 coffees for lunch.

I figured if you increase your heart rate it would burn more fat? no?

Drop an 'e' and go for 6 hrs on the cross trainer? hahahaha... funny.

Anyway i felt pretty dejected after the 'fat-grabbing' incident then a possible quickie had to go to the dentist, broke a tooth whilst eating a peanut (WTF???)

"babe, you're not much use after having your mouth butchered by the dentist".

note to self - please be less direct.

Ergh... i hate fat!

And abit of extra, here's a vid of Peter, Jan and mel at Pablos vice.


Play petr


May take a minute to load.

downtown-non-luxe

Ohhh blogger-widget. Forgot this was here.
So.. lets see... having survived 4 hrs in Ralph Lauren with my mother and 'modern-japanese' ontop of the Queen Victoria building i decided to not buy any winter clothes this year and try to work what i already own.
After auditing my wardrobe i realised i have clothes i've never worn or were too big at the time and...er hem...fit me now.
So this winter will be "downtown-non-luxe" utilising what one has... the army "che" look is back in so all i have to do is.. er wear jackets i wore 3 years ago. It's the same damn thing at the shops.
Or if one must, i will only do Second-hand (vintage is abit of a wank and op-shop is just too far down) such as CC's flashback and then rework the outfit. Recently i've finally got round to stitching fabric to my 'painted and torn jeans" and will endvour to stay at home and finish that damn army blazer.
This is the new me, a more subtle and non-plus, an innocence amongst thieves.

i will however make some converse/Vans purchases.

Oh, and i might aswell share this with you, i have BACK-FAT and it's distressing and traumatic.

No more ...er... cakes...alcohol.....french pastries....

It's been quite hectic lately with work picking up and schedualed lunches. My world has inverted itself like a succulent mango in summertime.
Watched Aeon flux, that action/sci-fi movie with message of 'don't clone or you might gets something spooky back with you" but all this enfant-aqua amongst jittery pixelism. I enjoyed watching Charlieze theron crack several masculine necks with her svelte thighs, backflipped and ran through exploding walls with perfect moving hair. It was all about the hair.
Work has been, and who is one to argue having been doing being. Client H. who's going to brazil in a few weeks time explained to me what a 'bunda' is

h- yer.. so in brazil ..the women.. they're built differently

me- hmm... they have two heads?

h- nah mate.. they got bunda

me- yer, that's great... how are u going with the pain?

h- it's alright mate, dunno what this foot tapping shit's about..can't stop...

me- it's just your body trying to divert pain messages, perfectly normal.

.......

me- bunda?

h- yer...

me-bunda?

h-yer..

me- bunda?

h- yer..mate...

me- bunda? is that like gucci but from south america?

h- what? gooffey? he's american aint he?

me- bunda.

h- oh yer.. nice... big round bundas..

me- breasts?

h- nah mate, arse. beautiful arse.

me- oh.

silence.

h- yer.......

me - well you know nothing like some poop shoot action.
Ok, times up.

I bought a fabulous pair of black jeans, not too fitting, just slim-enough cut to suggest rocker but not so thin it screams chicken-legs.

And i adore WWD SCOOP , it's the 'retail' branch of Womens Wear Daily with its pictures of sofia coppola and marc jacobs boogie-woogie-ing, fat and old and sweating. Gorgeous Kate moss as a hologram at Alexander mcqueens latest collection. Also i'm obsessing 'CRASH' magazine, fashion in a portable but dignified format with fantastic interviews with heidi silmane and veronique barinquo in french!!!
Can't read the shit but who cares when it's the size of a local phone directory but in high gloss poster-paper.
Had lunch at burton and forbes, fresh sea scallops on a bed of gently braised cabbage with wild mustard seeds. So, delicate and sweet, one could have my tastebuds arrested for lewd conduct.

GOATS CHEESE is my new food and i'm getting intouch with my spiritual side, i'm wearing amathyst and aligning myself with the mystic jews, more hasidic orthodox than hollywood kaballa.

It's all about the hat, the hair and the gorgeous coat.

In the myth, Psyche is a beautiful princess of whom the goddess Venus is jealous. In her rage she orders her son cupid to make Psyche fall in love with a monster, but Cupid falls in love with her himself.
After several trials Cupid and Psyche make their plea to the gods who turn Psyche into an immortal and allow them to be married in heaven.

Flotis detox.

Exercise - Clean room plus vaccum.

Food - Custard tarts and Lady grey tea.

Meditation - Lounging in relaxed clothing with Men's non+no and British Vogue.

Indulge - Chocolate peanut clusters.

Rehydrate - Several glasses of chilled Evian whilst listening to Edith piaf.

Bath - WildOat milk bath.

I don't want what i haven't got except for another glass of vodka.


I finally found where fergus lives, it's this street with a train line through the middle of it. If only someone told me it was right next to woolomolloo wharf then it would have been so much easier.
So we got there when the party was in full swing glasses of champagne came fast and when that ran out.. triple vodka cranberry things and martinis and cosmopolitans and things... it was fabulous.
We talked, we threw our heads back in laughter and introduced ourselves to each other.
Amy came over later and thats when the vodka shots started. No one told me to use shot glasses so i just used the normal drinking glasses.
You know what's weird, i don't get drunk with vodka, i mean i do feel abit of an effect but i wasn't plastered or running to the bathroom every 5 minutes unlike one dear uni-girly who was in the bathroom from 3pm till 10pm.. poor thing. Bet she lost a few kilos.
It was a lovely night filled with interesting people, one guy kept touching my arms saying how smooth they were, abit creepy.
but then, touch all you want darlings just pour me another vodka.

Have a look at MIU MIU new campaign, musings of MiuMiu prada and lots of strange photos of Kim bassinger.

And PRADA for their short film by Ridley scott whos daughter (????) is the muse and model.

It's becoming more than the thinking persons couture.

This scottish guy thing seems to have opened up a box of emotions which i never thought i would find myself experiencing.
He did say he wasn't after anything serious...friendship/fun casual-lifestyle appropriate relationship.
So i thought, well why not, everyone else is doing it and maybe the clinical dispensing of relationship catagories have been the reason why i've been single for 2 fucken years.
Single as in having relationship for more than three months. By that time you ought to have sussed each others embarrassing habits and organised some sort of schedual together in a gorgeous louis vuitton goat skin diary.
So i thought i could be ruthless, plutonic, non-emotive in my friendship and physical interaction but for some weird reason i can't treat another human being as an object for sex and 'friendship'.
They have to be exclusive.
Although i had a giggle at my 'sexual encounter' with the scotsman i actually felt very empty inside because i didn't feel anything for him when we had sex or even when we kissed. It seemed like we were in some movie sequence where both actors are nervous and put on their acting faces, part themselves part another.
I realised i can't do 'casual-relationships' where you actually talk to them and share laughs and care about them then have sex with them without having any emotive attachment or scruples.
It's not a question of what is wrong or right but what the individual values and respecting that fact.
I'm better off single and not puting out any emotions.

I know it hasn't been that long since the last post but i'm feeling abit charitable.

The week has been abit of a blur with that date on wednesday with a scottish guy who i met again on saturday night after work for dinner and drinks.
One thing that did annoy me was the fact he wore flip-flops after 4pm which he had to change for later because you cannot go into a bar with open toe shoes (so they say). I forgave his faux-pas purely on the fact he is scottish.
So dinner was nice, thai, then drinks at newtown hotel. The place was busy with an ecclectic mix of patrons. One would like to express bohemian and hippie chic but honestly it was... over 40s drug-dried couples and fattys and arty-angsty-gay types.
The ripped vinyl sofa is not vintage.
So we slid down onto the back area next to this art student boy who was sketching squiggly shit with a biro and his folio bag strewn on the floor.
Now as you know, i'm one for art and it's postering, infact i once called myself an artist and still do so at certain occasions however you do not take your folio to a pub on a saturday night sit in a corner and squiggle highschool-pentip drawings!!!!

Get out of my way!!!!

We bitched and giggled, the drag act on stage....

date- he's only miming

me- it's a drag act, they mime.

date- that's so boring, in glasgow they sing

me- well welcome to oz, that toto don't sing!!

My mobile phone kept slipping out and i knocked a fat girls glass of wine, hey!! she was in my way .
Can't stand fat girls who wear rice-paper thin tops hanging round gay pubs complaining they can't find a decent man in sydney.

They ought to be persecuted by an army of Karl largerfelds !!!!

Anyway, so the evening was down the hatch a couple of beers , poor boy had to work 6am in the morning and tim and andrew were beeping me to go over at 11:30 for yet more drinks. i was pissed at 11pm and had to make a swift move back to his place if i was to get any action.
Hell i didn't spend all of my saturday evening without even a shag God damn it.

So... with jazz music on .. and getting close on the squishy sofa we got into it.
In the midst of kissing, biting, scratching and being 'oh so savage' i got to the part where i take off his underpants.
Clean white calvins....nice... rather large folded bulge... keep it coming... and then when i slid his underpants off there was
a piece of folded tissue stuck to his left testical.

Hm.

I'm trying not to laugh or look or make a big deal of it.. so i take my underpants off and climb ontop of him and with one flick of the wrist (one of many that night) the tissue came off so proceeded the act of coitus etc.
He was big in a wide way and seemed quite adept at using his mouth and tongue in the right places. All in all it went well except he couldn't hold it for too long, as you know i prefer to have sex for atleast 2hrs, he just couldn't wait and expelled his semen.
It ended right on 11:30 !!! i was just warming up.
He cuddled me and was all.. i don't know.. u know.. he had this weird look in his eyes.. like his eyes were glazed with blackberry sauce..i don't know. He put on this weird happy/love song stuff on .
I couldn't help wonder why he had a tissue in his underpants.
Maybe i'm just shallow and lack any sensitive emotional stuff or that i'm just a first rate bitch.

The latter in Prada shades
.
So went over to andrews, met up with an assortment of strange people drank some more and somehow did latteria today but with big sunglasses and saying very little.

Pointilise update.

- Spent way too much money on a pair of sunglasses.

- Had delicious pesto omlette tomato rocket sandwich.

- Drank 4 beers without smoking or collapsing.

- Controlled my alcohol intake.

- Turned down booty-call from something quite delicious in the middle of fresh mint tea.

- Got hard whilst kissing a scottish guy but remained a gentleman and not proceed with lingering fellatio or rapid coitus.

- Trying to come up with an outfit to wear to daddys hospital admission day and what to wear visiting and when he leaves.

- Will buy something japanese at 'Tokyo city'

- Seriously considering buying a decent book (more than say 100 pages) and making time to read it.

- Seriously considering cooking food and making time to find a cookbook.

- Seriously considering being serious.

- Remember to moisterise feet because you never know.