"Do I have to change my name?
Will it get me far?
Should I lose some weight?
Am I gonna be a star?"

The man with the ugly shirt was difficult on thursday not that he was being, more so because i was feeling unwell. I haven't really struggled through 3 hrs of needle-poking for a while, once it was at the main clinic which is like home to me so there were plenty of paracetamol , asprin (weeee!) and ibuprofen to keep your mind off it. Had a chat with ms no-poop about her water-phobia. No wonder she doesn't poop.
Tried to chat to L. but you know, it's not easy to illuminate a room with a lamp that has no bulb. And N. waltzed in, confused the hell out of all of us and waltzed back out again.
Anyway i'm so glad that day is over and slept hideous amounts, read a book or two and felt extremely horny.
Strange when i feel at my worst i suddenly feel aroused, i hope it's not some subconscious-repressed-psychosexual disfunction darlings.
Well, more aroused than usual i guess, not that i don't feel it most of the time, not that i'm constantly. I remember one guy i dated who needed to "unload" 6 times a day. Eventhough i was happy to assist 6 times everyday got tedious and really became nothing more than mechanical.
I had to sit down eventually.
I'm contemplating a PDA just as the new Louis vuitton 2007 refills have arrived and those Burberry polos that fit so well as if they used my body as a template. The punk-rock studded belts coming over from London, soon will entwine my waistline.
I thought if i buy a PDA i would have to by a new bag to carry it and do i want carry a bag in summer?
Do i need anything really?
No, i have more than i need. and i can't even argue the notion of 'better' things as i have that too.
I'm pretty lucky for someone who once lived in an orphanage.
Sometimes i think what may have happened to all the others who were there waiting, wondering, wishing, dreaming.
Little faces in a starless sky.
It is at those moments of contemplation, fissues of vunerability that i learn the art of forgetting.

Get intouch with your blaque side.

Where do i begin?
It started with a bottle of vodka and ended with a couple more, sunday...it's only a real sunday when there's a public holiday on the monday. It all makes sense.
Spent several hours trying on clothes for a sunday coffee/brunch because nothing fuckin fits!! i'm fat, all over. fat,fat,fat.. anyway i had to settle for something black and simple because i knew later on in the evening i would be smashed and food will fall on my belly, oh is that a catapiller on your tummy or.. oh, it's a noodle.
So after a few poses and coffees and such i met up with Gav and his delightful friend...raj (??) at darlo-bar for drinks. I don't know about you but i got to remember to ask for stolichnya or skyy or something decent because the shit they serve on the sly is nasty!!
The vodka tonic was so nasty i could have used my arse as a LPG refill center.
Nice to sit round, chat with beautiful boys, the intricases of Gav's straight-to-straight-acting-gayness raj's huge almond eyes and my slurring of words.
After that, i headed over to John's for that party.
Quite alot of people came, not many drank, just me, John and nick so we polished off a bottle of mandarin vodka which is deadly because it tastes so sweet and easy done straight.
We ran out of tonic water.
We also had this weird Lychee liquor which was abit strong, typical chinese alcoholics, make a product that in no way can anyone drink let alone asians with that missing enzyme...sheez.
Beers, wine (there was some wine in there somehwere) and lots of gorgeous food like Johns cold-noodle-salad which i thought was devine considering it was his first attempt. San-chow-bow with plasticy hydro-lettuce leaf. Curry soup (gag), pesto bread (double gag) and a marshmellow cake which could only be described as, pitiful. As if a dislexic budgerigar had pecked it into some confused lump.

Drinks! more drinks!

The evening ended with a few vomiting episodes and John, well, having explosive vomitting, as some of us laid motionless on the sofa we couldn't help but giggle at the sound . As if you let out air from an over-inflated balloon.. that sound .. explosive, dramatic! and then his sneezing fit!
God, how we laughed.

I however was quite stable, stumbled home and woke up at 4am with the most horrible hang-over. I forgot to drink more water.

So now, hung over ... i am thoroughly satisfied in my liver-abuse and poor john feeling fine this morning with a touch of ashen-green palor.

I got out of bed early today for some weirdo reason , maybe it's all this pent up fustration but it got me out of the house on my day off at 11am, impressive.
I actually went into work when i first arrived into the city, just to double check yesterdays man-with-ugly shirts bookings if i got them all right and wrote up novembers for him. Then i i hit the shops.
For a long time i wanted new cargo pants but couldn't find anything that worked or fitted so i went into myer to see, i found 2 i liked but when i tried them on, they were huge. Who on earth are that big even at a 'small' they were huge. I felt as though i was a human mop.
Then i did david jones who were clearing out their winter stock, mui mui, jil sandler (still over priced, from 800 to 250 for a basic white T-shirt?) amarni, hugo boss etc.. so many gay guys there, it was gayniverse, i mean really you can drop the attitiude you're only buying sale items.
Couldn't find anything i liked so i wondered round feeling very sad and it is when you're at the bottom of the pit that hope shines through... Burberry.
I went in and clicked my fingers at nick, "i need one of those polos, now!". He just laughed and we climbed the stairs like two fashion-whores gagging at the maxi-posters.
I tried on a few, the cut was perfect but the colours hard... i tried so many on and came to a hushed-chocolate, more flattering to my skin tone. It was fab, and quite a good price, infact i might replace all the ralph lauren polos with new burberry.
Ralph lauren polos are so common these days.
we met up later fo lunch with john at a tiny cafe in the strand, so tiny we could only fit because we're thin.
I poked at my smoked salmon and ate the fish only, left the bread "i'm not eating carbs, too many carbs!!!"

John and i did, amarni (crap) , louis vuitton, i love their huge man bag, so big you could fit nepalese sherpa and this boxy bag which was even bigger, you could fit 2 sherpas and their goats inthere. I made the sales girl model it for us, she was very excited but had chapped lips and you know, that's not a good look. Anyway, after all the talk and excitement i just said "thank you for that" and left !!! hahaha.
I found the old man opening and closing the door abit off puting, they should have a hot young one ,
Their clothe collection was shit, it use to be better.

After all this shopping my feet was exhausted so we climbed down into 'cafe and bar' the underground jazz thing at pitt street. Food's crap, drinks too strong, nasty but the atmosphere is nice, plus they have a lounge to flop on so john and i caught up with happeneigs over a vodka and tonic.

Go and watch VERSACE winter06/07 video if not for the attitude then go watch Donatella try and speak through her coke-fucked nasal passage and lips so big you could put out flames from a burning pot , darling.

But i'll always love Versace, they have taken over the 'high-voltage glamour-sexy" look Tom ford did for Gucci. Poor Tom, now designing perfume and sunglasses and Gucci is a woman in a mid-life crisis.

You know when you think you're being a cunt life in all it's wisdom will show you show who the real cunt is.

So off i set to work... a delicious smoked salmon bagel at kino-cafe then window shopping at myer and david jones, lots of sales...sandler...prada..hugo boss etc etc but i don't like to troll through sale racks.
Then skipped up to work.. quiet day so i just organised things.. looked busy, made small chat with clients, looked fabulous and wafted in an out of the place..made tea for myself and sat back . 2 clients at the end of the day so really... i could make it to the quarter-past train.
However at the last minute as i was about to leave the man with the ugly shirts decides to book for october. The whole bloody month so i had to book him out in the book then write him a card with all the dates..ergh!!! then that done i go and get my bag and knock over a halogen lightbulb, **crash** in little pieces.
So i had to clean that up which resulted in me standing round the train station for 1/2hr very unhappy.
And i'm still single ... not even a look in... not even a wink ... oh wait i did get my arse pinched along oxford street by some drugged out rent boy last week.....woo hooo.... give me a gas oven and a nigella lawson dvd.

Life can be such a cunt!.

This wont hurt abit....

Has it already been a week? No, not quite.

I finally fit into the Louis vuitton shirt i bought 2 years ago which at the time i purchased purely as an extra with other purchases. Shoes i think it was.

I put all my designer brand name clothes in the drier at 'high' heat as i do believe expensive clothes ought to be treated harshly.

There were so many ugly people around today. Ugliness is not necessarily a right-of-birth but laziness in tailoring ones appearance.
And this i take issue.

Why is it fat ugly hairy cunts can be married and then have children and walk round looking like...fat happy cunts... eating a 60cent macdonalds softserve cone?

Is wearing clean clothes a problem?

I don't think pink shirts ought to be worn by men whose belts are the only item defining their hips.

Is getting a size bigger too hard? harder than eating one less piece of junk food?

I don't like fat people.

I don't like european backpackers with dirty hair carrying a "wakeboard" (Jesus christ lay me an egg) on public transport
looking bleary eyed.

I don't like European backpackers who don't shower.


i don't like European backpackers who spray deoderant under their shirts whilst walking. Who are you trying to deceive?

I don't like Backpackers in general.

I don't like Backpacks.

I think fatness is a disease and should be battled with stamina equal to a horse in spring-time on the verge of ejaculation.

I think alot of things and horse ejaculating isn't one whilst i'm drinking Milo.

Party on sunday night at John (the scientist) with a gaggle of under 30s which will make me feel thoroughly unpleasant and if i see one "gay old white guy" i will make sure the evening will be most entertaining.

I can be such a cunt that even cum would call to cancel it's appontment.

In some strange way, it's quite empowering to be honest about ones failings, prejudices, intolerances rather than live some, facade waiting to be exposed. Honesty isn't always pleasant, nor is it correct, it's accepting truth for what it is and respecting the right of others (most importantly yourself) to express non-pragmatic ideas .

I'm so happy i got that all out.

Right.... next.

I had quite a day today wandering round darlinghurst in very-sydney summer temperatures.
I wanted go up to hyde park to hand over some old bank statement mail to ken but the cafe he worked at said they've never heard of him before. I headed into Burberry to have a chat to Nick and he showed me round, some interesting pieces, i like their single row studded belt.
I actually walked all the way to wall from Burberry, insane in this sweat inducing humidty but the Guava granita at wall was worth the hike.
Ah.
Headed up to Aerial, thought deb would be there but she wasn't. Only that woman with the false smile and man whose pallor could only be described as, forgotten-spinach-at-the-recesses-of-an-infants-high-chair. Yes they were all there, except for Deb. So i popped over to Latteria with some uber-magazines and slow-drank coffee whilst grabbing a quick cellular banter her.
The evening was wrapping it's mouth around our existance so i hid in Berkoulouw till Gav could come up and have a few drinks at 3weeds.
We drank, we ate some strange seafood mix dish, smiled to the gorgeous lady owner with the welsh smile and headed off to Unas for more...food.
I couldn't really stuff myself because i was wearing a tank top that refused to hide any excess baggage. But the conversation with the delightful Gav managed to ease things .
Gav's probably the most straight gay guy who was straight i've ever met!

Anyway i'm thoughly chilled out for tomorrow as i am sipping refreshing-tea from Aesop, the store with perforated white walls which made me feel abit nauseas after staring at them.
Trippy!

Oh it's been busy, sort of. Have a relative over from USA so i've been eating out at chinatown alot this week, tried the new korean place at hurstville that's finally opened. Was quite good actually, spicey, nice chairs.
I've also been updated on the latest collections in tokyo and had a catalogue fed-exed to me and i fell in love with a black wool very tight dinner jacket but instead i ordered a grey-blue scorched rams skin dinner jacket! How could i pass that one up and it was under a 1000 so.. god, i can still bag a few more lighter items.
It's quite amazing buying clothes with merely discriptions and rough idea. The photos in the catalogue were too arty so detail was lost.
I'm so excited i could cream my new american underwear which i'm finding a bit tight around the thigh area.
I'm getting fat thighs!!

I must diet, i had a salad on tuesday which was divine , would have been healthy if it wasn't for the bacon and creamy dressing which looked like vegetarian-jizz after too much basil.

Have i had vegetarian jiz before? i don't know.. most of my men havebeen meat eaters, they tend to have more amonia , more bite in their cum.. o0h yes.. i did have sex with a vegetarian once but that is a tale worth telling another, day.


oh and.. something for Gav. [click here]

Oh how i adore mountains of muscapone in cakes and delicious body products.

Hair - The body shop Honey moisterising shampoo and conditioner

Face - Skindoctors - Retanewal cream . Stabilised high dosage retinol cream. You can feel your skin giving birth in a matter of minutes. Push your hidden youth onto the surface!
Oh, that's a good line...

Body - Sorbolene soap! I recently re-discovered this oh-so-common soap and loving it. Cleases without leaving the skin too dry but no weird greasy film like some body washes.

The body shop Passionfruit body scrub - Gel type, not too harsh and wont leave you feeling like a penguin stuck in an oil slick.

Dove body glow - self tan that is gradual so you can control the intesity from sun kissed to tahitian native. Easy cream application, no streaks.

Nivea body cream/lotion - A classic that quickly absorbes and does the job. No fuss, to the point.

Skincuticals Vitamin C and E serum - face to body serum to reactivate collegen production . Painfully expensive ($240 approx for 30ml) but it's lab-grade skin products (no artifical additives for packaging purposes) and it actually works.
I use it after scrub or excessive sun exposure.

L'occitane shea butter handcream- very thick and rich. Smells divine.

To think i've reduced my lotion and potions since i'm single and.. er... got no one to impress.... to think i used a different product for every body part (body-tailoring)... you know you're good when they be moaning, "you taste so good " and they haven't even started on dessert.

Jenga causes bottle-blow-jobs.


I haven't had so much fun in ages as all this work has taken the life out of me.
Had to go into work on tuesday at midday as another staff member went awol so i wasn't amused.

I had to take my mother for a bone scan this morning, routine thing we do, however we got lost walking round the maze of hospital wards and ended up asking a patient with no hair or eyebrows.
"i know my way round, i been here a long time"
me - "i hope not for too long!"

oh dear.

So anyway afterwards we had yum cha.

I went home and got changed to meet up with nick for drinks, he was only doing coffee but he ended up with 2 beers and a vodka-mandarin.
We parosed through some select street-fashion stores, stumbled back to his place and we.....

drank ourselves sensless on mandarin-vodka.

Then we had to go to an art gallery in surry hills for an opening by Johns dear friend.

"we're friends of John" was the quote of the night, it got usinto every part of the opening, v.i.p area (crap decking out the back) .

Everything was "great' and i love it", years of customer relations has taught me to believe in whatever i want others to believe.
"It's wonderful you've made this exhibition so successful, it's just wonderful"
Afterwards we had pizza at some , pizza place and bitched severely the crap we just saw.
What a crock of shite, they were asking for gold coin donations in exchange for some cat-piss beer, i dropped 10cents in and walked away.

Busy busy day, couldn't find cookie-man for some cookies and coffee before work , apparently there's a cookie place at david jones. So i went into Haiges and got some over-priced chocolates. They were ok.... yer, over-priced.

Work has been, well you know work, if only this weather would get its act together as i do want to do the cafe and pub scene this friday.
And my thighs are getting bigger i guess from all that stair-climbing, just hope i don't end up with fat thighs like so many weirdos on the train system.

Oh, yes, dvds tomorrow, got to get some from J.B. my life is a constant financial outlay.

All i've been doing is sleep, slept all sunday, it was raining so heavily you couldn't go anywhere so i slept!! hahaha... i think sleeping helps cells to regenerate and you know, you can never have enough regeneration.

Oh and, lastly, i've gained alot of weight, i bought a compact gym thing so hopefully i will get my body undercontrol. The upside is my penis has gotten quite thick, i never knew fat transfered down there.
I may need to buy yet more "roomy" underwear to help ease the squeeze.

But it's all right now, infact it's a gas!

Had a wonderful smoked salmon bagel at Kino-cafe, after it has been revamped it's been the spot for smoked salmon bagels.
And they smile.

Smiling is such a rare commodity these days in Sydney city world, less so in suburbia.

First up was tess, the woman who uses pin-rollers on her face to boast collagen production .

me -"oh tess darling, you know nothing reverses the aging process"

tess-"oh don't say that!!!! no!! i can't accept that!!"

me- "you will have to, rolling needles onto your face isn't going to make you younger! it's your face not a piece of shortcrust pastry!!!"

And i had the man with ugly shirts for 3hrs.

I raced to the train with gale force winds blowing my hair and lifting my steps, i felt abit dramatic until i walked into the ticket machine.

Yes, why are so many retarded people on the public transport system? including me!

Water! ........... please.



It has been a wonderful weekend with Pete, Deb,Mel,Kate,Janine et al kicking off at the Russian Pub down in the bowels of Glebe on Saturday night. We laughed manic-fits in the patio-garden inspired by a very minimalist spainard .
Pete's looking less 'newtown' and more'fashion-magazine' with chiselled features and that amazing twist-cut hair.

The evening ended with a camillia-petalled dim-sim plate and abrupt waitressing but who cares, we were amusing ourselves with haughty stories.

Today i met up with Pete at Latteria then to Forbes and burton. It was going fine till i crashed heavily after drinking one of Taras double Gin and Tonics. However it's times like these that the best quotes come out and pitter-patter our minds.

Tara - "Haven't seen you here for a while"

Me - " i'm trying to lose weight"

Pete - "do you believe in re-incarnation?"

Me - " oh god, once is enough! "

And then we cabbed to Glebe only to be turned away at the chocolate shop but we did meet up with the lovely mel and instantly i felt so much better rehydrating at Badd-manors cafe, laughing and being glorious amongst mels beauty.
John joined us and deb calls me whilst i'm peeing.

We caught a cab back upto crown st in a cab that played very loud bangarra-bollywood-arabic-house-music. The subwoofer vibrated our giggling intestines, it was the most funny cab ride i had ever not including the old guy who wanted a blow-job.

With us 4 basking in afternoon spring sun, the day drew the final curtain and we departed in the same way we met with kisses and hugs of the most insinuous kind.

It's been a stressful week so much so i can feel the tendons in my neck. If i was a whore i'd be sewing up my hymen just to special, again and again and again....
I had to go and "promote" our business, i mean yer sure get other businesses to make business for you, what a great idea.
Like they don't have anything else to do.

Stupid idea alert!!

Anyway so i did it with Karen who wanted to be anywhere else other than venturing into hairdressing salons with too much attitude and no customers.

Then Tuesday was bonkers, it's bonkers when you go into the clinic and smell bleach and bloody meluca-sage cleaner. Some serious shit went down.

Wednesday i had the usual, i'm eating whole freggin chillies nowadays, you figure.

Thursday, even though i mosey in at 4pm the shit hit the fan in delay so i was amongst it. Alot of angry whispers to which i placate with calm smiles (i looks stoned but hey, it beats looking angry, i can't afford the wrinkles) and i had some indian spicy soup at kino. which actually tasted quite nice but was abit too spicey. My face was red when i climbed 4 flights of marbled steps.

Friday, i had yum cha today which was nice and scampered through spotlight for pliers, wires and eyelet-pins.

I haven't smoked all week and i'm feeling it.

Sunday at Glebe Pete??? chocolate cake and smokes? god, i remember that time when i blew that huge cigar, freaked everyone out..haha.

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.

I went to bed rather early tonight , from what i recall 8pm as i was drifting in and out of consciousness.
Today was a very long day with3hrs doing miss perma-tan , an hour and half into the treatment consisting of polite banter and discussions about her pretty genitalia a strange smell started to waft . A sharp vintage with colourful resonance and a hint of spicy lemon preserved in a cheap glass jar.
"Oh, i'm so sorry, i think i'm having my period"

red faces all round.

Her well proportioned vulvalic doors wriggled like the nose of an overly active rabbit, dribbling some trail of sick.

"oh, *silence* i never knew periods looked like this" Innocently commented me.

And so my day was complete, i walked away feeling most overlayed with swathes of intrepidation whilst fingering my neck.
i say aloud to a staff member whos outwardly appearance could only be described as desicated.

"I think my glands are swollen"

She then hurriedly rifled through her chloe imitation handbag handing me 2 tic tacs.

I heard through the grapevine another girl had to go home because she caused such aromatic chaos after relieving wind silently.
I remember when another girl who literally exploded in the upstairs toilet. I thought L was joking until i went up there and saw the walls.
She never came back poor thing, yet she was one of the most nicest people to work with.
It's always the nicest ones.

I waited round chinatown to be picked up by my daddy, dear daddy, what would i do without your Honda?
Amongst the filth and european backpackers whos sperm infested mouths gape at the wonderment that is sydney and mainlanders shuffling round with third world affluence parking their baby strollers in the middle of the footpath causing traffic chaos.
One child is one too many .

I'm so glad i don't live in the city anymore, i can't stand these cretins.

I think fridays has become this mint tea-coffee-cranberry vodka day especially now John has all this free time, i have an explicit reason to have a drink. We plopped about at Wall then to gaslight for drinks inwhich a strange bloated-from-too-much alcohol homosexual in a cheap blue cableknit jumper put his hand on my shoulder and proclaimed "the girl at the bar is stronger than she looks" and gave sly winks whilst i drank and chatted to john.
Freak.

When tomorrows over i will be having a double anything, i've got a 3hr brazillian to do in the later half of the day with no public transport for me to get even more stressed out over.

New curtains, same old blinds.

I couldn't fit into a size 30 pair of Levi straight leg denim pants today .
And ofcourse they don't have 32 and i had to buy some other brand which by all means changed my idea of a faded denim summer to indigo.

My new american underwear arrived today, i adore wide elastic support and 100% brushed cotton despite the erratic customer service i'll buy some more later.
I also bought a mp3/video camera and old australian television programs now on dvd, same old , same old..

Last night i went out to normans 32 birthday, a family affair, infact it was very family, loud, crazy and too much alcohol. I polished off 2 bottles of red, i don't know how i did it but by the time i got home i was comatosed and woke up at 3am all fresh and ready to go.
Norman and i grew up together but when we hit 18 we grew apart even though he lives just one street away. Our familes entwined in that sentimantality that we deplore yet secretly peer through whilst running past the frames of existance.
We all have grown alot older, physically we've changed, new additions tacked on for security and then in the light of our understanding , we have never changed one bit.
Terry, Regent, winston, Ellina, Angela, Norman, Patrick...we have aged but the sunrise of our connection was still there.

"It's good to see you again" i proclaimed whilst we escaped nightshade after nightshade, these visions of our lives hauntingly familiar tugging at gossamer threads, invisble yet visible, fading and enchanting. My history, my life all that i have been trying to float away from.

All there.

Today i headed out to forbes and burton , try and get a grip of my own journey, i was quite shaken by what i had try to leave behind.

Gin and tonic, double in a tall glass thank you.

John joined me after the gym, then we headed to latteria to pose and be seen, a little boy was racing his tricycle along victoria street with an adult helmet on.
Joined by Nick and finally i got those two to meet.
We headed to darlo-bar for more drinks and amy joined us and the night was building to a crecendo, i sat back wobbling about after 2 vodkas, amy turned on her amy-ness and us gay-boys got our entertainment.
Drinks! darlings drinks!

I think i managed to get nick and john together, im much too old to take advantage of those two, i feel like a dirty-old man even the opportunity was always there but, friends last longer than one-night-fucks.

Me and my beautiful boys!

But this history i'm re-writing seems to lead me closer and closer to the history i had in the first place.

These shaken leaves are but flames on a well-known tree.

I've been lost in the vortex of EBAY and this, my space which i have yet to understand. Is it the new wave of hopeful-celebritism? I find it quite exposing and daunting to have so much of yourself up online, to think years ago 'blogging' was actually my divulging but now, i've become less interested in exposing myself.
Maybe it's age.

So anyway i went out to Moore park to look at curtains and ended up buying an electronic wine chiller.

Came home, cleaned blah blah, my life has been abit boring.

However i am excited 1) Pete is arriving in syd. in september 2) my new underpants ought to arrive in a week or so and it is so much cheaper buying from the united states. 3) nick is getting a mulberry bag , it's so big i could fit in it so i'd like to try when it arrives.

Please explain?

I;m having problems with my underwear, basically i need more support and less "movement".
Recently i had an embarrassing moment standing at the traffic lights waiting to cross a busy highway when my penis decided to get active. I had boxers on underneath a pair of relaxed pair of pants which meant well, there was no control and i had to run and sit down somewhere to let it pass.
Male version of a period cramp.
Boxers are great to wear round the house in summer.
I have a ton of underwear, mainly those tiny low-rise things and bikini-cut from the good-whore-days, but now with er, age i'm finding i need comfort more than seduction besides they can't seem to hold everything in anymore, it just spills out or pubic hair gets stuck in the elastic, eeeck!!.
This pair looked weird although i'm tempted to get this with it's 'butt-enhancing' pad but i don't want any embarrassing encounters.
Basically i've spent all night searching for a good pair of underpants that hold everything in place and keep it there.

So i just got back on the packed train on a sunday afternoon very pissed, to the point wher ei mistaken an emo teeneage girl for a guy. It's an easy mistake to make.

I went over to amys for late lunch to visit her lovely new pad in east-redfern "EAST, NOT THE NORMAL RED-FERRRRN" she screams down the phone.
Anyway after trekking up the main street i find it, it's nice, minimalist with big metal sliding shutters and intergrated living and kitchen area.
After gettin the vibe and opening all her cabinets i realise she has everything and i really don't know what to get her.
She even has Gucci cutlery.
So anyway after several bottles of white we settled down to some wonderful tibetean fried ricae and tempura she made fresh, the secrets in the iced-batter. It was fabulous.
Several glasses of white after we were kind of smashed, Amy fell asleep on the outdoor setting and i kept laughing at Lynn and her stories and tenzin sang to vintage micheal jackson.
"So, do you think he's a paedophile?" and we all ummed and ahhed before answering.. hahaha.
Dark chocoLAte and some more drinks and basically amy passed out so we headed home, me flapping about with flatheel converse i bought when i was going through the "street" phase, to get back to the roots, get real like J-lo but ended up sounding like a duck .

Lynes buying her a special rubbish bin.. hahaha.. i have to get my act together, something to go with their gorgeous and i mean GORGEOUS mongolian side table.

i got the flu again! ergh, so i'm abit low but loaded up with pseudopherine so i'm walking round like an egyptian.

Work has been hectic but that's ok, met up with eric the frenchman on thursday and we talked about fabulous united nations things and abit of bondage thrown in. His accent is to die for... to die for.
Then i popped into wall cafe for a quick coffee and skipped over to townhall for work stopping by kino. for a thick magazine purchase.

It's Tuesday night! work has been hectic lately and i've been going round looking for a housewarming gift for amy. I couldn't decide whether the blue or green Versace fruit bowl, Vera wang tea set or Louis vuitton picnic rug. So anyway i'm going over to amys this sunday for drinks and will decide which would fit in her new apt. If she's all for colour and using some woven palm leaf basket as a fruit bowl then i know what to get. They had a gorgeous white porcelin versace bowl with a raised medusa head on the bottom so u could see it through the soup!! fantastic!
But i already gave them cut-crystal for their wedding, it was a er.. bowl.. so i guess you can have too many ....bowls.

A george jensen thermos?

However i did find a fabulous etched glass carafe and huge hurricane lamp on sale and bought those for myself for when there's a hurricane or i could sit infront of a fan with a glass of red.

Lately i've been having disturbing dreams about myself in dramatic situations.

And i haven't had sex in ages and it's showing in my loss-of-zen when i encounter stupid obese people in the city walking in groups staring up at buildings.
STARE A LITTLE LONGER AND YOU MIGHT EAT A PIDGEON!!

Just aswell sex has quieten down though as my hamerroids have flared up, there i was so bored, trying to push part of my rectum back in only for it to pop back out like a jack in a box!
Oh well, i'll just have to wait till it settles down.

However, i will be having lunch with the delightful Eric the frenchman on thursday.

Maybe i need to not want what i haven't got.
Maybe alot of things.
I went over to Jamies before the meowmeow performance tonight, he cooked a delightful ginger/garlic oyster mushroom snow pea dish with rice. His place is 50's retro in a slightly niave way but cute never the less, his cat was fantastic though, a fat tabby with stripes across her body like shadows from swinging window blinds in spring.
It was an odd scene, there i was reading the newspaper throwing glass after glass of a semillon blanc which was slightly sticky and he, cooking away in the kitchen.
Sometimes i think he is trying to say something other than what he is actually saying.
This abstraction is confusing, i think we're confused.
But i do like his company i just miss having a more intense physical connection with someone, a gentle kiss on the lips "hello" and "goodbye" doesn't seem to go anywhere but i'm worried he might panic or runaway if i push for more.
I just want more.

There is the option of not doing anything, going along with no desire of diving further.

The emptiness drives me insane.

If anything i'm discovering new parts of me, conflicting, vunerable, merciless.

I try to look into his eyes, beyond what is present through to reflections of his heart but i can't see beyond the gentle kiss goodbye.

The performance by MeowMeow was quite good, however her intensity sometimes confused ones reaction, audience participation was rife and frightening, her diamnte bracelet fell onto my lap and she quipped "give that back soon, i don't trust you!"
Her more serious moments were breath-taking, the audience was caught inside her gaze and emotive cage, she was best when she took off her comic disguise.

I had lunch with Jamie, we met up again for lunch but this time i was protected by the belief that i am, no ones.
We talked about what has or has not happened during the week, i sensed a degree of fustration on his behalf, i was preoccupied by cigarettes (found at the back of a drawer) and staring into the distance.
"They're all the same, all the same....."
We had the lunch and like nothing had interrupted the time which slipped through our upturned eyelashes.
And then saturday came up.
He asked if i worked on saturday, he well knew i did, i proceeded to map out my itenerary, straight from work i will go to the QVB for some food (and bottle of Sake) then organise my self into opera-mode (change of outfit in the bathrooms there because they sooo pretty and have full length mirror) and jetisen down the opera house at 7, "meet you there."

"oh but i thought you could come round to my place, have a rest and i can cook dinner then go down to the performance"

You know when you fuck up when all of a sudden the illicit program you so comprehensively devised becomes a huge fuckin' X

fuck fuck fuck, i sooo fucked up.

However he did add, if i changed my mind i could text/call him during saturday.

"Dreams unwind, love is a state of mind"

I didn't show anything that would suggest aprehension he just smelt it through the plumes of my disguise.

Weekend was quiet, i got my crystal bits and been stringing them up for summer-neck-accesories, work was the usual, i had the moaner on saturday, she was quite vocal and i was feeling abit hung over so, it was a struggle.
Today i just cleaned my room and repotted some plants, all of my lily collection are gone, bleh, cost me a bit too but oh well but those stinky jonquils are popping up everywhere. Just took it easy, i've just been feeling low lately.
No news at all from Jamie, oh well, if i don't hear from him at all this week then i'll just not turn up at the opera house performance, i'm too old for pointless-ness and disappearing acts. Got dinner with Amy and fergus on friday night so that'll be fun and got to get back into the scene again, coffee, books,cigarillos and looking fantastic in skinny pants you know the deal.

I had a wonderful conversation with one of my indian clients on saturday, she lived in kenya for 10years and told me this recipe for henna hair dye. I love it when she wears her sari into the clinic. She just got her licence and i said 'revethi, you should race people at traffic lights" she just giggled.

I thought lunch mid-late week would be ideal to keep the momentem if not reciprocate after sunday night but he txt back "can't do, busy week"
So i was left in that peculiar space of cinematic confusion.
May be he did freak out on sunday, so much was optioned yet it was too early?

At this moment i would be happy to just be by myself again and not have any options and relegate him to the bottom of the priority list (and go drinking with boxen) . But i have that pre-booked modern opera performance next saturday with him which was suppose to be romantic, well i'd hope so anyway by romance out of modern screeching opera? i don't know.

I feel as though i'm making the same mistake again, emotionally, and i have to break this chain (i'm feeling a fleetwood mac moment here). It was written in my hororscope this week, that i must try and break a familiar pattern so i can, move to my next incarnation. So what does one do?
Be emotionally guarded till....when? or leave the doors of our deepest heart flung open with vast abandon?

You can have too much Stevie nicks.

I went out drinking with John this afternoon, down at 3weeds pub which will become my new favourite haunt.
Pub in the old style with cushy-seats, deco-mood lighting, tables the size of one-plank and friendly bar-people who speak in thick welsh accents .
They have ashtrays on everytable, God bless'em.
It's small and hidden eventhough it's on the main street.
John is a dear young friend (you know you're old when one has 'young-friends') who has just finished his doctorate thesis thingy in science and is only 24. It's been several months since we caught up so it was good to finally do so in the chilled surrounds of an old'yer pub. The drinks cheap ($5) so i knocked a few vodka and cranberries before we headed to that heathen, Lounge.

We talked some more but honestly we were thankful for the bangers and mash dinner and vodka cranberry (absolut). You see, i'm trying to curb my alcohol intake by restricting myself to one type of drink, how many is inconsequential.
It is hard to talk about the same things, to relate and opinionate on topics which we have vast experiences on. Or as john put it "but you have that much more experience"
Never the less the trip ride home was fun, the indian taxi driver kept burping all the way home.

We didn't go watching the kubric movie instead we had drinks and talked alot at gaslight then down to 3 weeds pub where he tried to say something but it didn't come out right, "i'm really glad we met" and i for a split second hesitated, a glimmer in the wash that is my eye, i hesitated and i think the world heard a perforated tide crash in.
I agreed and we had another drink.
Earlier on we headed to piccolo cafe for abit to eat, it was the usual politically incorrect comments left right and center, he seemd to enjoy the atmosphere and wanted to stay forever.
We share very similar life histories, we at times finish each others sentences, it may be, too much for him to digest.
Or maybe it's me, most probably it's both of us.

I'm about to go out to the pictures with Jamie, i've resisted seeing him during the week as i'm getting abit nervous about the direction of our relationship. Plus the fact i was down with the flu but that's another matter.

This has been the longest relationship so far (touching, kissing allowed) without having sex with the person and i'm finding it a whole new experience. I feel slightly vunerable, am i not communicating my affections enough to him? am i being frigid (from past experiences i don't think so) will i lose him to someone else who's more affronting?
The attraction is there and i have expressed so be it in a clumsy manner and do have the desire to sexually explore his long , toned body, he's blonde too (bonus points!! ding ding!!)
He suggested some 'pub' places for lunch which i'm sure would be fine , be it in paddington, but i abruptly suggested otherwise. I realised for the past few times, well everytime i've been the one who suggested, if not,, decided where we would meet up. I apologised for being so demanding, he seems to go along with most things, but we all have a certain quantity that wants to be heard and i don't want to be overbearing or a reason for regret.
So, the movie we're seeing , being kubric or something was his choice, i bit my tongue when i thought "omg this is boring" , who knows i may even enjoy it, i enjoyed lost in translation and that was something i wasn't looking forward to seeing.
It is this need to control the outcome of a situation, the need to pre-arrange incidents inorder to get away unscathed that has been my trademark of my exisitance but this time i want to change .

This flu bug is strong, well i went out today to see yuji about my hair, he fixed it and it seemed such a lovely day so i head over to wall after for coffee and smoke. I guess it isint good to smoke when u have blocked sinuses cos by the time i got home i could feel my brain scraping the inside of my skull. It was horrible and just now i held my nose and blew hard which popped my ears and now i have fluid draining down my nasal passage into my throat, it's gross but my head feels better and i took some antihistimines just because, i mean when else are u going to take them and now i feel all fuzzy with the physical pressence of an amoeba.
I remember once i took so many antihistimins at work i was doing a million things at once and freaked one of the girls out, she burst into tears when i tried to file a card, answer phone and wrap an ice pack at the same time.

Oh, i think it's time to revisit that scenario, these sudafeds are about to expire.

I got hit with the flu this week, well it's not that bad except for blocked sinuses and feeling all weak and vunerable. It's been so grey i could easily just collapse in the street and pretend i'm a modern Jane bloody eyre .
So besides sleeping and walking round like a zombie not much has happened, i've managed to pay Andrew back for the clothes he got me on credit in tokyo and paid for some crystal pieces which i will be wearing for summer.
My message for summer is, glamorous-new-age-chic.
So depending on my psychic energy for the day , i will wear a corresponding crystal necklace, eg rose-quartz if i'm feeling friendly, amethyst for serious aura prescence, clear-quartz for clarity ot black onyx for uber-attitude.
I'm trying not to be seduced by this new 'craft' phenomenon that has hit Australia, bead shops are opening everywhere and housewives have thrown their knitting needles and macrame sets away for glue guns, toggles and 8mm metal loops.
It's a craze!
But i did crystal necklaces before shell-chips were the ornament of surfy boys, gorgeous surfy boys.

Anyway, hopefully i will be fine for sunday so i can catch up with Jamie again, we've been keeping intouch alot, i mean, i try not to think too much about it, enjoy each moment not thinking too far ahead or it will just get me all nervous.
He's a nice guy (as far as i know) gentler and funny, quirky.

Saturday was busy as usual however there is an unpleasantness has entered the clinic which is a pity. Working with a bunch of women you certainly learn about bitchiness. It's funny sometimes but really annoying most of the time.
Anyway, i went to the hardware shop (god help me) today and bought some pots which looked kind of pretty and blue and cheap. When i got back i realised i had to take plants out of old pot and put them in new. It looks all fine and dandy on television but bloody hell pots are heavy, especially when there's soil in them.
But managed to repot the autum crocuses and found my lily collection has become mulch, pulled out the peppermint which has gone feral and cut back the crysathemumns. To think i actually enjoyed doing this years ago, i just want to concrete the entire back garden.

DSC06080

DSC06080
Originally uploaded by haru98.

Just because.

I took lunch at forbes and burton with a handful of trash mags.

Beef brisket between a round of creamy potato mash and umbrella sized field mushroom.

Very delicious!
Then i took a double gin and tonic and had a decent smoke outside.

I was bemused by Imelda marcos's quote in 'tatler' magazine

"i take over 2hrs to get dressed to see the poor"

to be continued....

You know when you've had too much partying when you mistake taking a fart for actually pooping and you're too lazy to, investigate.

Bucky done gun.

To have thought i was wallowing in self pity i ended up at club 77 last night trying to re-live my party animal past.
It started with an irrate french girl who accused me of stealing her mothers jacket which was a "expensive french label" i stupidly looked round with her under the table till i realised she had taken my cigar before i could advise her not to inhale , it was too late. Well i couldn't be bothered besides an hour later she was involved in some scrag fight with a tiny charcol-weilding art student and then she bursts into tears infront of some nobodies and scampers into the toilets for hours. Infact i lost track of time after i gave some "disapproving-looks-to-her-male-companion" who stood outside the toilet.
Stupid french bitch.
Jamie and i chatted away till the dancefloor looked more inviting, meaning we wouldn't be the only ones there making a fool of ourselves, the music was irratic.
I don't understand this new 80's industrial revival, it isn't even reworked merely played louder and mixed with very high pitched whistling sounds which really make you believe you have tinnitus.
Anyway the night progressed like most club-nights, the crowd came in, infact there was a crowd at club 77 which is rare. The old school were hovering round the back put ajar by these new art students. They are just soooo tiny!
One dear girl was so tiny i had to watch out for her or i could have decapitated her newly acquired bob-cut head with a swing of my elbows.

Why do people insist on taking drinks up on the dancefloor area and proceed to...drink? um it's a dancefloor... ????????????

I did come away feeling abit out of place, slight relic in an age of 80's retro bow ties , skinny clothes, devo-sunglasses at night (what?????) , boys in unbreathable paisley shirts and pastel ensembles.

Why do fat men with back hair insist on taking off their shirts?

The 'art performance' started quite late and was, well under-whelming. They had this girl dressed up in red sequin dress stuffed into two airbag breasts. She shimmied round the stage then plunged an audience members face into her breasts which popped, she manouvered the remaining breast into the center and had it popped whilst she was on the floor. Then she got some audience members to pump them up with bicycle pumps.
The end.
Now do i read something into this or do i just take it as burlesque-cum-nowhere?

Whatever happened to the huge igloo and belly-dancing inside? The neon body piercing or the german cannibal performance where he threw offal all over the floor and squirted the audience with fake blood which we later stomped on all night long?.

I missed the club 77 of old, the goths who've held onto their black lipstick/eyeliner and black hats, grey-felt just doesn't do it darlings.
The ones gripping the roots of Robert smith whilst screeching down avenues in something modern-european.
When haute meets rebel, when vegetarian is served on royal doultan.

So much for sentimentality.

It was nice to spend time with Jamie though.

Why is everyone so fat in the movie 'Titanic" ?

These few days haven't been all that glitters infact more so the fade.
It started with a mosquito buzzing round my head whilst i was having coffee and a lemon curd tart at Kinokuniya. It flew by me and round, hovering with the eloquence of a tropical butterfly with one half hearted wave of my hand it flew away then back again out the corner of my eye i see it spiral down into my cup of coffee.
Did it get caught the downdraft, a mini vortex of colliding hot and cold winds.
I scooped it out with a well polished teaspoon and continued.
Eventhough work hasn't been strenuous infact everything seemed to fall perfectly into place, familiar clients, familiar routine but a lead-like shroud kept wrapping round, enveloping every fuel cell.
I've only slept and read a dozen or so pages and couldn't wait to get home .
Maybe it's a cold, maybe it's withdrawl from excess, maybe it's the calm before the storm.
I nearly succumb to the stress of a fully booked saturday but managed to pull myself back when empathy made me a better man.

I went to bed at 7 tonight.

Now i'm feeling a little bit better, i don't have any want to go out anywhere, it's the long weekend, i don't know what's going on with my dispondancy that notion of continous non-rational fear, the need to be, occupied, fear of not being.

It's a peculiar feeling, when i was busy with being out and about i felt no desire to exist in an interior world that special place where beauty is magnified and exhaled. Once i said "what is art?" as a legitimate question.
This coming from someone who made his own oil paints.

Ws i suppose to go out clubbing this sunday? I'm almost dreading it although part of me would love to be social.

I even went to my doctor to have a mole check.

And so this goes on till i can say otherwise.

I've come to a decision about my financial predicament, i shall go on a budget.
The past attempts have led to major spending splurges (you really shouldn't repress the shopper within) however i have found taking stock of what you have tends to placate any urges for new purchases. I am thoroughly appalled at my excess to think there are people in the world barely have enough to pack into a Prada bum-bag in refugee camps surrounded by well-intentioned first-world kiddies decked out in pastel blue vests.
It's enough to make you want to whore yourself on the Kashmir border, darling.
So as i have been extremely successful at being celibate for the month of May surely i can refrain from adding to what i already have.
If i do have an irrational-depressive-poverty moment i would focus that urge on small purchases for people i don't like or sensible objects such as, kitchen implements and cleaning products.
This will hopefully come to it's loathsome conclusion and soothe my capitalist ways.
I don't want more, just better things.
So June will be budget-conscious month.

Lunch is exempted however alcohol will be restricted to one drink and make do with free table water.

Another thing i have to deal with is this British accent issue or as one person put it "malay-ssssian". I nearly choked on my canape.
I don't want to be mistaken for a , malay-sian nor do i want to be mistaken for a Laotian.
Once i was mistaken for an Indian!
Mind you, if all Indian boys were as sexy as the gorgeous boy at the supermarket check out today i wouldn't mind. That dark smooth skin and lips of wild cloves and peppery cinnamon and a juicy dark cock like.... well i don't know..haven't tasted indian cock yet.
Anyway this morning i spent 30minutes waiting at the bank to speak to someone about investment, they were very late so i left.
Don't piss me off in the morning especially when i'm wearing Prada and on an impossible budget.


And yet more, PRIVATE

Yes, i can do reading.

"Oh, I can see you running...I can see you running
I can see you running all the way back home"

It's been a fustrating week with busy-at-work and confused homeless people who rattle on about my grey jumper, in utter fustration i scream on platform 4 "IT'S FUCKIN DIOR HOMME!!!" to the stares of the destitute.
Then a pair of velvet cord-tie pants i had my eye on at david jones, i waited 3 days to make my move, i hesitated then thought, why not.. so i go back and do the change room, it has coded locks on the doors.
So i try it on.. felt lush, looked abit too big.. cross between tracksuit pants and some forgotten Yves Saint Laurent moment . So i sat down on the wooden bench in the room to see how much rides up the leg , the proper way of making pantaloon purchases. As i sat on this beech veneer bench my buttocks and thighs just slid off the bench space resulting in me falling foward in one glorious prayer movement and there on all fours i looked up at the full-length mirror all alone in a code locked cubical.
With my dignity recorded by some hidden-camera (always wear nice underwear when you are going into the change room) i left the changeroom and was hastily approached by a young sales (client manager they call them these days) all happy and waxed-squished hair like a donkey about to have it's hey-meal. I tossed the drawstring velvet pants into his arms and with the same hand signaled it wasn't to be.
Whilst crossing busy castelreigh st i saw a woman with the latest Guccissima leather tote bag and followed her round till i got bored and headed to Priceline for some trashy purchases.

Proper topics of conversation 49388

client "it was so hard breaking up with my ex, he was so good"

me "where was he good?"

client "oh, everywhere"

me "my ex was only good in the kitchen, he barely passed for the bedroom"

client "why is that?"

me "well, he was a wonderful cook, could turn eggs into a four course meal. unfortunately couldn't deliver desert . I was left unsatisfied"

client "oh my!, my ex couldn't cook but..well..how can i say... he was very good with desert"

Anyway, i've been watching Stevie Nicks live at red rocks, over and over.. made in 1987 (?) ...geez..1987.. i think it was the year i lost my virginity to a gorgeous senior in highschool. I remember his face...hockey player...sweet lips and red cheeks, on his face... well.. i hope it's the one... anyway he'll do.

I love stevie, i grew up with her rockin' it... getting all mystical and emotional.... and those shoes.....

I went out to lunch with Eric the frenchman, we talked about a framework for the internet, about merging both realities and governence, possible united nations proposals and what to wear if we become ambassadors .... we agreed not to clash when it comes to briefcases.

And then i went home.

oh by the way, what is Mariah doing?

Sunday was so much fun at Lyns 56th birthday party. The woman looks 30 and considering all the plastic surgery she had, it's worth it! Nevermind the continuous smile and inability to frown.
We drank and drank and admired the view, her apartment is right on Rushcuttersbay, right on the water or as they say "Elizabeth bay, loop!!!"
Manage to catch up with tiffany and paul, the karate champion from chile... so exotic! and ate gorgeous tibetan food made by tenzin, amys husband and yes we both got elegantly smashed on black laquered empire chairs. At the end of the night lyn was dancing round on the velvet heartshaped sofa to Dusty springfield and amy was moving my arms like a puppet on a string (sorry Lulu) .
Amy kept going on about ice cream so we all bundled into the car, yes all of us.. 6 or more and headed to chinatown to Y2K icecream/pancakes which had the most abrupt service ever! so funny!
"CAN I NOW HAVE THE MENUS BACK!" the waitress demanded..!! hahaha... ohh and Yuiee's 20-ish white boyfriend.. who looked rather.. odd.. in cream cable knit.. kept calling me 'brother', 'yo, brother' ' right on' and asked if i went back to japan often and i said 2 years ago.. he'd never been so i explained "they speak english there, you wont have a problem getting round" .
Everyone in the car knew i'm not japanese..

mmm seaseme ice cream is very, very nice.

I'm Joan Crawford so FUCK OFF!!

I took lunch at Forbed and burton after having my hair cut by Yuji who gives one of the best head massages, i nearly fell asleep with my head tilted on the wash-basin.

I saw some rather lovely crystals , big, but i felt not quite powerful enough. A gorgeous quartz crystal necklace, beautiful. But then i got crystals already and i don't care what people say, they do give off an energy .

I had my psychic connection on thursday which was interesting. Apparently my aura is purple with gold around my head. Instantly i thought Elizabeth taylor! but then realised she's still alive.
Anyway i enjoyed my lunch at the Queen Vic. building, smoked chicken sandwiches on skewers and handmade gyoza before work in the city on thursday. Yes i'm working in the city on thursdays, can you imagine the havoc i will create, marching up the marble staircase in my heels and terrorising the perfume-boys at Myer.
"so what are the notes of this fragrance? "
"would you like a sample of our...." **with a wave of the hand and walking right past**

At Forbes and burton I had a wonderful handmade penne-twist pasta with pancetta and viniger-celery with a gin and tonic double in tall glass please!

I think tara forgot to use the mesuring cup and counted instead.

I was basically legless when i got home and nearly stepped on the neighbours cat sleeping on our drive way.

The temptation was to do a post mortem on my life thus far but i have refrained
These 12months have been quite good to me, can't complain despite the losses i have come to acknowlege and own my blessings and this is all i need to know at the end of the day.

I met up with brian today the gay irish beauty therapist. I don't know about you but i have rarely associated myself with effiminate men, this was abit of a departure.
I was a minor under-whelmed but then, lets not be too demanding and just appreciate what is infront of you.
If egg-shell is an approachable white then he was 10 shades out of contrast.

Work was ok, C. got new trash mags so we sat round reading through those. I finished the bette davis biog. and now will start on mommie dearest, joan crawford then 'i am a cat' by soseki natsume

And my folio has been accepted by Private magazine

Birthday Boy

Thursday 18/5/06

I'm thinking about a detox.

Had Long lunch with Amy at Wall cafe.

We discussed about aging and skin-health over coffee and drinks, diamond-dust dermabrasion (it's good for any age), gem stone therapy where u align sapphires, diamonds, rubies and emeralds to the chakras of the body, with a hand and foot massage.

She lost her cartier wedding ring whilst doing a body scrub.

I was in mild shock and needed a smoke.

We stopped by darlo-bar for drinks.. i had a lemonade, no, really.

I'm going to see a psychic next week, if you have any interesting questions i should ask, please feel free.

I'm so pishd i hope i can survive the weekend.
A routine long-lunch was unfolding till i invite amarni boy along to which words of "i got no money, so a coffee will do" echoed about, i overcourse heard no such thing and proceeded to have a few drinks over a very long lunch which included desert.

Then we went all over darlinghurst and paddington looking at clothes whilst doing a few pit stops along the way. A strange pub/bar with red velour and ad-hock sleaziness, if only they removed 'free drinks during footy' signs it would have had some character. It was just another pub.
Then down to Lounge for another 3 gin and tonics, i don't know.. i think i had 10 in all, 4 to start at forbes burton... Amy joined us and we hammed it up with our legendary fables, i was severely smashed because we only had G and T's with bombay sapphire! arghsdjsldj... i called deb but she wouldn't make it up our end till uber-late so i had to go.. i said darlings we have to go, tomorrow is a work day...for all of us!

i'm still pishd although slowly coming to.... oh and i have two big dinners to get through sturday and sunday.

Sunday 14/5/06

Half way there, Yesterday was a shocker. I arrive at work all fine and dandy , work all day because we're all booked then go home have snack then dinner with mum but when i got there i had to run to the city clinic at 12:30.
So on the bus with a huge red environ-friendly " i love to shop at gladesville shopping village" bag filled with needles and surface spray.
Lord.
And ofcourse the bus decides to go the long way and stop at every fuckin stop.
I eventually get there whilst running through QVB, Central plaza shopping halls.
I must have looked the crazed-weirdo-in-the-grey-jumper. So i get there and the client is waiting this short haired woman with manbeared. Oh great, 3hrs 2 machines and i know what's going to happen.
Managed to get a 20minute lunch break, screeched over to sushi-take-away "tuna, cooked"
"tuna? we have fresh"
"no, i want the cooked tinned one"
"no we have fresh only"
i mean.. it was silly so i pointed to one with an omlette wrapped in it.
I don't mind the city clinic but it's so small and cramped.
Anyway eventually it was over and i raced home got changed and tumbled into forbes and burton for dinner.
After a large gin and tonic we settled down to some very good, no.. exceptional quality food. Wow
i had the roast duck walnut salad with apples followed by roast pork belly (crackling included darling) on a bed of buttered lentils and cabbage.
It was morish i couldn't fit desert but oh.. the food! flavours clear and well balanced, effecient service, cute boys though abit dark to make it clear.. but effeciant service.
The food! my God.. if i wasn't so satanic i'd be bulemic.
I love , love, love the food at forbes and burton. Cost me an arm and two legs but it's worth it.
No, i'm worth it , god damn it.

But part of me is still trying to find a cheap, good quality place to eat. Now that's a challenge.

Work, domestics and a little drink.

Today i have to go into the city for work at 6pm, can u believe it, how ridiculous.
So to fill in the time i'll go to dendy and watch a movie , then dinner somewhere in the city, why doesn't Versace do food?
then work till 8pm and struggle home at peak hour in the freezing winters night.
I will definetly have to do forbes and burton with a double Gin and tonic tomorrow.

Andrews in tokyo and he bought me some new clothes, i gave him a budget of a thousand and he only managed to get me two shirts!!

Thursday 11/5/06

I watched Hidden today before heading into the city for 2hrs of work. It was an interesting movie about hidden camera video, hidden lives, hidden past and hidden social mistreatment.
But i found it too subtle for it's message, the insinuation of algerian community vs white french, racial malade, bitterness and fear. However it was nice to get back into dendy films.
Settled down at yama perched ontop of QVB, i quite like that place becasue it so well lit and you get huge servings. It's cafe japanese, not authentic and frankly if you want authentic then eat it in Japan.

Work was, well.. you know.
I had one of my regulars who is now going to the city because it was more convenient for him, oh well, so it wa snice to catch up and the progress is wonderful. And for some strange reason i've become involved in some scandal happening at work even though it has nothing to do with me so hopefully i've extricate dmyself with that.
I have no time to get anymore involved in petty, immature back stabbing.

i'm going to have a long lunch tomorrow.

If i was a woman, would you come inside me?

The thought kept pushing through my consciousness all day as i puffed away at wall cafe. There was a posse of emo kids, from what i overheard, overtly excited at this "cool find" so i circumcised a macanudo and blew it up.
coughs, tears and an asthma puffer jumped out of the kiddies black vinyl messenger bags
"fuck!! gotta move"
"no, no! it's the coolest spot"
"fuck!!! i can't breathe"

ROFL.. so i turned away thinking it would negate the fruity plumes away but the wind changed and blew back , right into their faces.

"can you move, your cigerette smoke is bad"

I took a deep draw contemplating creating a scene (i had just read a chapter of bette davis biog) i even contemplated moving but then i couldn't be bothered, it is public space so i turned to this gaggling of emo kids and said out loud (wasn't suppose to be, but it suddenly went quiet)
"i'm sorry"
puting on my pixie face
"but no".
And started to puff twice as hard releasing twice as much smoke, they ran inside.

Afterwards the dear bald headed owner who seems to give me strange-smily glances giggled as i apologized and thanked them for being so nice and not making a fuss
"thank you (with a wave of the hand) for being so fabulous. this is the most brilliant cafe. we need more cafes like this in sydney"

I don't know what came over me, i think bette davis has possessed me.

I love my old teal corderoy pants, they go so well with flat shoes, i never knew until today. Infact i realise how fortunatel i am, how lifes little revolutions put me in enviable positions and i, have taken it for granted. To be able to acknowlege this is in itself another circle within a circle.
These corderoy pants i bought 5 years ago and put away for they were too 'dowdy' but now seem perfect. It was meant to be, like most things in life, it was all meant to be.

i want to adopt a black baby and call him Adolf. and a chinese girl and call her Eva take them to Wall cafe and eat smoke salmon salad in my Hussien chalayan pants.

I'm dying my hair at the moment to a subtle brownish tinge.
It's been a hectic few days at work, i had one woman last night who looked as if she was about to give birth to her ovaries, rolling about, squirming in tears and letting out a squeal now and again. I just ignored her and continued my work till her hour was up.
I mean really.

And then there's the armani boy who is quite young (24), cute but too flakey . Even if it's going to be a bedder, they have to have some sort of integrity. But then young people are young.. so i just had to say "that's nice babe, i'll give u a call when i'm free" . Anyway i think i've had enough slutting around, there have been many more that i haven't blogged because they were more , routine, run of the mill.
After a while most cocks taste the same.
I've decided to be celibate for a while, having said that it may not be too long but i'll try and establish some sort of connection before hand, it had gotten to the point where words were dispensed before the pants.
It got abit empty.
Anyway, this week i do want to get into the bette davis biography, book table for mothers day (most probably Forbes and burton) and work out abit more.. more cardio.. but then the more i work out the more...aroused i become.
You can never win.


Thursday 4/may/o6

I think i'm bored again.
Had lunch at Forbes&burton, drank myself silly on gin and tonics with an interesting pasta dish. Anchovies and basil swirled into homemade pasta with a fistful of lemon juice, quite startling except for the bits of toasty crust sprinkled ontop. I guess they were trying to give the dish more texture but it wasn't necessary.
They have an interesting mix of customers, eastern suburbs matrons with a sprinkling of suit and tie set not low-key-cool as wall-cafe, not voltage-glam as the potts point crowd (pretentious is the word). It's a strange mix hovering over a question mark.
But atleast they serve good alcohol, i nearly died drinking a sauvaigon blanc at La bouvettes (whatever the shit is called) potts point with the amarni boy. It felt like it had been relieved out of a bladder.
I must remind myself to not date boys younger than me, the emptiness that comes out their new-thought patterns. Another boy i wanted to strangle.
Andrew pointed out when i was having lunch with him and joshua that i "looked like you wanted to murder him".
Young boys look nice but lack social skills and a level of intelligence which not to their fault can only come from time.

a.boy - " i love this new music, kind of machine sounds with rock sound"

me- "hmm industrial music, alternative goth"

a.boy- " and i love culture club and that whole 80's scene, would have been great to have lived through that, how was it?"

me- "yeah, it was great. thanks.


I might head to wall tomorrow and sit round and read and smoke and piss people off.

oh if i remember buy sake from this mysterious liquor store in chinatown amy was trying in vain to describe to me.