Oh, I forgot to tell you. When we were in the queue for Daniel Kittson, Boyfriend had the Best Timing Everrr.
I was all aflutter because he was running late (well, late to be freakishly early, which is what I wanted).
We were standing outside the HiFi, and this bogan chick came up to us. Not full on junkie, but desperado type, dig? So she asked me if I had a dollar to spare on drugs. I said no, sorry, (as a rule, I’m not into the giving of the money. Well, buskers sometimes, but you know, not beggars or filthy teenagers).
So anyway, I said no, she said ‘that’s fine…’ and had a stare at my boobs. Given they were on Display Level: Conservative Milky Bosom (not full-on Vampy Semi-Goth), there was certainly something to look at. ‘Mmm…’ she said. ‘Actually, you’re pretty cute. Are you bisexual?’ ‘Yes…’ I said, ‘but… this is my Boyfriend here!’ I said, as he sidled up. ‘That’s ok, I have a fiancé…’ she said, walking off as I hugged Boyfriend.
I refuse to chomp down on the genitals of a woman who pronounces ‘th’ with an ‘f’. Which I think is fair. Plus, you know, she was all bogan and hoboic. Why don’t any *cute* girls sleaze on to me? (Well, there was that one at DV8, but Boyfriend was still ‘the Other Boy’ and I thought trying to sleaze onto one person who wasn’t Funzo was enough. That and I made a complete TOOL out of myself because I am completely incapable of flirting with girls. Sigh).
Anyway, after housesitting then two days straight of the comedy festival, I was looking forward to staying home on Thursday night. But then bloody Supermercado Adam waved his penis at me (metaphorically, of course) and asked me to come out to a shenanigans-packed television ‘event’ resplendent with 80s music. AND he offered me a lift home. Adam 1.0 + Shenanigans + 80s music + lift? HOW COULD I SAY NO?
So we went, it was wacky fun, never have I been in a room with so many 30-something beauticians and secretaries who had obviously been bussed in directly from St Albans and Caroline Springs. It was like a Hen’s Night at Bridie O’Reilleys, without the saucily-named shots.
But yes. I do adore that boy, he’s such good value (hopefully I’m not getting my internet boyfriend jealous, who, but the way, I miss terribly because we seem to be out of sync at the mo. xoxo)
Oooh! And Monique Brumby was there. Usually I’m of a ‘meh’ opinion about lesbians, since I don’t see how they couldn’t enjoy the boy sex (and the boy friends, considering there are few girls I get along with. But, bizarrely enough, the inverse is true of my internerd friends, of which there are more lay-dees, I think. Hmmm. Hmm, I say, Hmmmm).
Anyway, Monique Brumby is fucking HOTT. She has that predatory sexiness of Angelina Jolie that makes all the straight vanilla girls get damp in the Love Kylies.
So I stared at her for awhile, thinking ‘she’s too tall, it’d be like climbing a flesh tree. Plus she probably has a life partner rattling aroud in Northcote somewhere. But still… she’s so puurrdy’
So, yeah. 1.0 could have had his pick of fading mildly pissed 30something vagina, but we went home.
Today! I have to do an 1000 word essay I’ve been putting off, (since it’s only a thousand I keep saying ‘later, later’) and then I have Boyfriend’s belated birthday party, so I have to go over and help clean etc. Saturday we have some stuff to do before comedy festival in the night, then Sunday is Greek Easter and all the gyros in the world. Mmm.
Oh, also, I should have the neighbours recap up on Sunday night (I was going to do Friday’s ep tonight and have it posted super early at like, 7.30 tonight, but I have to go be Boyfriend’s bitch).
So, D-Bay, ehhh. And the Announcement. Next week is going to be fucking HUGE. I'm so excited I'm about to pop out little mogwais.
3 hours ago