Another little self indulgent moment, where I get to rabbit on
about what I’ve been up to lately.
one: Spring. GUIZE, LOOK SEE, IT’S SPRING! And while some of you will start posting all those cute little pics of trees starting to bloom and all that nonsense, the start of September means just one thing to me, and that’s MOTHER EFFING FASHION WEEK FOLKS (I mean, nature’s cute and all, but did you see Thurley’s new season collection?? #ShuddupAndTakeMyMoneyAlready). My credit card is shaking in his boots already (or rather, his little slot in my wallet, but it just doesn’t quite have the same pizzaz to it, you know?).
two: Some people stay in your life for just the one season. Others, for a lifetime. And some, just so you have someone to drink tequila and make bad decisions with. Sometimes, we let far too much bloody damn time go between drinks (yunno, somewhere in the vicinity of seven-legtimitate-not-even-exaggerating-for-effect-years), but we still know how to par-tay like we’re 19, even if our bodies don’t like it very much and we have to pay for our drinks now.
three: Is there anything more wonderful than a glass of vino in the sun? AMIRIGHTFOLKS? Rose is lemon sorbet of wine seasons. (mmm. Sorbet.) It’s the palette cleanser, helping us
alcoholic cultured folk get from Merlot by the fire to Pinot Grigio with our fish and chips at the beach, without skipping a beat, and you know, having to consider bourbon and coke a legitimate life choice. (still thinking about that lemon sorbet, FYI.) And, now that we’ve finally got some goddam sun in this place (finally Melbourne-town, you found that ‘make more sunshine button’ eh?), I think you’re all going to see plenty more of this. Because Spring. (seriously, what does a girl have to do to get some freaking lemon sorbet around here?)
four: There’s this family. They’re kind of awesome. I mean, they’ve hit the freaking genetic jackpot. They’re good, no great, looking cats, they’ve got wit and charm and poise and they all love and respect each other.
I don’t know this family. No clue. I’m sure they’re round these parts someplace, but in the meantime, lemme leave you with the Mulquiney cool cats. We’ve got no poise, no charm and sometimes we come to lunch in track pants and we most definitely piss each other off 78.3% of the time, but you know, throw a few drinks in the mix and shit will work itself out. Drinking, drinking we get. Oh and food. We’re pretty bloody good at the food stuff. We’re messy and rough and tell bad jokes, but you know what – I kinda like these fools. (Only in the 21.7% of the time that they’re not driving me batty, of course.)
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