Postcards from the Forum

Postcards from the Forum

Yesterday was rather eventful:

Work.

Dinner with Kate Mulqueen and Chris at Camy's (dumplings say hi!). Tried the onion pancake, which... omnomnom. You'll love it. Also, dumplings in chilli oil were divine. Not too much sting, and all washed down with a Pipsqueak cider (it's as close to beer as I can do). Anyways, at some point before dinner I seem to have lost Villanelle. Because I'm an idiot, most likely. I'm trying to contact the restaurant, but failing that.... IPHONE.

That is all on that front.


Anyways, afterward I went to see Joanna Newsom at the Forum.

You'd have hated it. All Folk and Indie kids and hipsters. Anyways, after bumping into the Borders Hipsters (TM) I met up with my uni friends (Ang, awesome, did a thesis on Sex and the City). We created the Look at that Fucking Hipster drinking game:

1 Drink

Movember moustaches outside of Movember

Chops

Nerd Glasses

Blunt Fringe

2 Drinks

Clothes mum wore (3 drinks if a sequinned jumper)

Pipes

porkpie hat/turban

crazy acid hands everywhere dancing

Finish the bottle

Dudes in skirts

Got wasted.

Bumped into Simon Karis afterward... blast from the past (We were in primary school together. He was obsessed with Ghostbusters and wore a skirt to school on the day we had THE GREAT DEBATE to allow grrrlsls on the football team) . Then the dolorian showed up  He introduced me to his mate. Daniel. Who went to Milgate. He was tall and blond.

LJ: What's your last name?

Scared guy: ah... Corran....

LJ:...

LJ:...

Scared guy: ...

LJ: I used to live next door to you...

Scared guy: .... oO(who is this stalker)

LJ: you had ewoks...

Scared guy:...

LJ: and Siamese cats

Scared guy: *lightbulbs* Your mum's name is Iris!

Catch ups proceed. So bizarre. Awesome to bump into though. I hope we get to catch up again, Simon seemed eager. It was just so... strange.

In other news, it looks like The Arthouse might go the same way as The Tote.

The streets will run red. With acrylic paint.

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Postcards from The Tote

Postcards from The Tote

So last night one of Melbourne's iconic music venues rocked out for the last time. Tom and I went along to pay our respects. Even Mum thought it was a travesty (! Inorite?!). So I provide some awesome images (admittedly, not taken by moi, no camera, these are from the Save the Tote group on Facespace).

 

It was crazy, busy, celebratory, angry and sad. There's rumours that a new licensee might pick it up and keep it Toteable rather than Bimbolicious, but who knows.

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Postcards from the Washing Line

Postcards from the Washing Line

Well, I'm sure you've heard all about the weather this week. Apparently it was amazing. I've been working too much to actually experience it, although I don't start today until 3.30. I have one load of washing on the line an the other in the machine.

My life is so exciting. It's a big day tomorrow though: the Tote is closing. Safface. I'm heading in tomorrow evening after Carnival to pay my respects.

Last Saturday was Cat's hen's nights. So traumatic. We had dinner at Joe's and then went to Polly for cocktails. that was awesome. The dancing at the Provincial? Less awesome. Mortifying. It was a 70:30 ratio not in favour of the ladies. And they don't dance. They stand and leer. Well... sometimes they grind in your general direction, but... urgh. Mortifying. Angry Feminist (my not so alterego) got such a workout. The best moment cam when Catie and I got back from the bar (tequila shots naturellement) announcing "Hey, we found the Hot Guy. He's over there, see? With the curls. Knew there had to be one somewhere". Seriously, this group of guys who'd been grinding in our direction all looked so pissed. And then they left.

And I wonder why I'm single, eh?

More not so adventures next week.

xxx

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Postcards from the Loungeroom Floor

Postcards from the Loungeroom Floor

I went back to the gym today. I can't move. So. Sore.

Lenny? Get me a coke?

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Postcards from Tattersalls Lane

Postcards from Tattersalls Lane

Had Little Fudz tonight with Ms Parsons. Camy's was awesome, as ever. We gorged ourselves to the point of hurling on steamed beef dumplings, fried chicken and prawn dumplings, pork buns, chinese broccoli with oyster sauce, and taro cake. Then, after glancing at Section 8 and considering a bevoix there (decided against, has apparently become a breeding ground for suits) followed through to San Churro for coffee and churritos in chocolate sauce. Suffice to say I now look like the hippopotomous on the roof eating cake.

Artist's rendering. Not shown to actual size.

We saw Lovely Bones. But before that, we saw an Ed Hardy Bowling Alley. Apparently this is a place where douches can meet, without fear of persecution, much like Section 8. As for Lovely Bones, look, I liked it. Don't judge me. Peter Jackson can do no wrong and I dodn't mind the amendments to the text (particularly losing the love story bit. Totally fine with that, I thought it was the weakness in the original). I just want to know, When did Marky Mark, of Funky Bunch Fame, become a serious Actor. Did I miss that entirely? This is what happens when the only movies I see in any stretch of time involve only sparklepires and fursploding werewolves (TM).

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