Shipwrecked

Last night I had all the alcohol in Australia. Today I pay. After my presentation at work which was accompanied by a bottle of Coopers Vintage beer (get your gritty hands on a six pack now) and half a bottle of red wine I had dinner with an ex-date who had come down from Canberra with his hot new boyfriend. We had more wine and a conversation, mostly between me and the new hottie, saturated with ambiguous one-liners that grew cheekier and cheekier to a point where I actually started worrying about the physical well-being of our neighboring patrons. Then we went gay clubbing. First to the Lair, the home of the Melbourne bear, and then to the Peel where I was so drunk I found myself on the dance floor over and over again.

This morning I awoke in a strange and foreign land next to the cute Muscle-Kylie I found in a lucky moment on the said dance floor. Such was his obsession that not only did he have LPs and images hung in all rooms minus bathroom (no space for anything), he had a K tattooed on his shoulder. We didn't exchange digits, and after emptying my backpack's contents onto the front stair of his complex I had to go back up to find my damned phone.

I have been considering a hardware upgrade and getting a detachable liver that I can just infuse with alcohol and chuck it back in to make the process of getting drunk more efficient. Upgrading to Chastity 1.1 and uninstalling Sluttiness 2.0 are alternatives to a swipe.

After a rather uncomfortable tram ride I stopped by the Queen Victoria market for reasons I don't know, and picked up an orange. There was a television crew there filming a guy talking about real, fresh vegetables with an enthusiasm so fake I mini-vomited in my throat. Brekkie with Sunray and doc D a bit later was not a big success nutritionally wise. The eternal optimist I am I ordered a large brekkie with poached eggs and bacon, sourdough bread and fried tomatoes, and managed to eat ONE bacon slice while fighting trembling and regurgitation. At least Sun's dog loves me after I fed him the rest of the bacon.

To treat myself I got a haircut with Andy who just opened his own salon, Pheadra, in Carlton. And what a sweet cut it is. Don't know if I should drop a shot of it now or in 7 days when it has grown a bit on me and it's looking its best. Felt a whole lot better after and looked as well I hope, with three day stubbles that compliment the cut perfectly. We discussed doing a portrait shot and I got the number for his studio photographer.

Now I'm completely spent after a long week at work and this night with listening to soul and funk with some friends at the Brunswick green. I told them I wouldn't have alcohol but would not mind having the barkeeper instead. Grey Goose vodkas on the rocks consumed: 1, Barkeepers: 0. I have to start keeping my word.

What else have I been doing while doing this?

The hilarious (or gay) Heinz commercial, American Athlete who loves his disco and posts heaps of tracks and last but not least Shorpy's blog of awesome historical photos.



The Friday lunch addition to my record collection: Looks as if I spent time in the b-section..

The Meters - The Meters (soul / funk / r&b, recommended)
Best of Out Of The Cool v2 (classic jazz pearls with the likes of Miles Davis, Quincy Jones etc)
Bloco Electro - Global Beatbox part 1
Billie Holiday - god bless the child (another jazz classic)
Breakestra - Hit the floor (r&b, one track feat jurassic5).