Try To Feel Nothing On Demand

Ha ha. We had a police visit last night. Our neighbours are, apparently, The Fun Police. Fuckers. Who calls noise control without even coming round to tell you to shut up first? Saturday night, guys... come on. It's not like we do this all the time. And the music wasn't even that loud. We turned it off anyway, and the 8 people left at the party sat in the lounge talking, which is also apparently unreasonable, because our power 'coincidentally' cut out at around the same time our neighbours across the hall turned up at the door to kick our friends out of our apartment. Who busts someone's fuse because they're talking too loud? Idiots. You suck. We have it in for you now. Next weekend, when we go out, we're leaving the stereo on, battery powered of course, and we're gonna put one song on repeat, just to fuck you off.

(We discussed which song it would be last night... I'm thinking 'Sweet Emotion' by Aerosmith. Great song, but definately begins to grate on you after a while...

PS The title has nothing to do with this, just was the line that played as it came time to write a title. Mike Doughty is lovely.

There's a tiny fly eating my scrambled eggs

I'm sitting down the street at a cafe call Kat Bahloo, just had a rather generic breakfast, but I'm not hungry anymore, so it's all good. It was generic as in 'i coulda made this at home' not even 'this is so cliche cafe i coulda got it anywhere'. The toast sliced bread was the giveaway. Very Denny's. Very 24hr diner. Fuck the wind is cold. The sun was nice a second ago, maybe... ooo, yeah, it's back.

Flatwarming tonight. I wish we'd had another week to get ready. Jo's working, so won't even be able to attend her own party. Poor wee dear. I'm still debating whether me and Andy know enough people to fill a room... one the size of our enormous, wonderful lounge anyway. We had all these grand ideas of having it on the roof, then never organised anything to sit on up there, so that's probably not gonna happen. I don't care, it's never gonna beat the Kent St Fridge Benefit Party, or the Keppell St Crack Den Porn Party, or Arch Hills 90210... perhaps because it doesn't have a cool name... and too many designers working in unison to make the house look like a mexican restaurant... damn I miss you guys. And the mistlesnake, I miss that too. And Juan the S&M Cactus. Sara, I think you have photos of that? I don't, I want them, dig them out for me. I'm gonna have to get a scanner at some point and give you all the B&W September ones of Keppell St et al. GTs.

Enough reminiscing. Ooo, one last one, Jenni's farewell do was last night, I'll miss her presence in Melbourne. Ben Lee at the Ferntree Gully Hotel... I think I have a photo of that... somewhere.

Speaking of photos... This is the fog on the river by the Casino on my way to work the other morning:





Aaaaaanyway. I have things to do. Well, sort of. Whatever.


hot: the sun
not: the shade
music: Something mexican from the place next door
mood: wish I'd brought a jumper
goals: stay awake for the warming tonight

The New Apartment

Well. Firstly, sorry to have pissed about so much with photos, I shoulda been more organised, I know. Anyway, I have them now, taken, and posted, so it's all good. This weekend has been a bit mad, but in a good way. Got far too drunk last night, and somehow still managed to avoid a hangover. I don't get it, but my best theory is that the more expensive the stuff you're drinking, the less crap you feel the next day. God bless Tanqueray. Still, I gotta say, it was a weird experience overall. I fell asleep at the neighbours place after attempting to play the Iron Chef drinking game, which turned out to have too many rules to be practical and woke up to find everyone had disappeared... so I got up in someone's else's empty apartment, walked out, back across the street to my place and went to bed at about 5.51am. Good times... i think. Whatever.


The lounge, the day I moved:





The kitchen:





The rooftop:





Our "seaview":





My room, from the balcony:









And that's it, I love it, it's wonderful. It's home. You should pop round for tea.