Do Da

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Saturday, August 14th, 1999

Shirley: “yeah, he PAYS for sex”

Yesterday was Friday the thirteenth, but today isn’t. So there.

Last night I went to Kate’s to play poker, only we didn’t end up playing. Instead I smoked cigars and drank lots. When Adam started throwing up, I knew it was all over, red rover, so Theresa very kindly drove me home. Simon wasn’t there cos he was out at some kinderwhore goth do, wearing my slips, and makeup. We had a hard time chosing a slip for him, cos they have cups at the top to accomodate breasts that he just doesn’t have, so they made him look all saggy. The makeup looked good, even though I’m suprised I managed to put it on him, given his lack of shaving and also his comments about golden showers when I made him tip back his head and open his mouth to put his lipstick on.

But that was yesterday, or last night even. I came home early, and stayed up till I was soberer, then went to bed. I was woken up at 3am though, by the sound of someone coming into my room – Simon returning home and wanting to know if I was home, cos I was expecting to stay at Kate’s. He was worried that if I was home, and he turned on his stereo without realising, he’d wake me up. So instead, he woke me up first.

But anyways. When I woke up today, being Saturday, I felt a bit funny, so I got a nice glass of iced water,and took the Herald back to bed with me. Man, how tragic is that? Nice sunny big warm bed, and I’m sharing it with the newspaper that is the Spawn of Satan.

Later I got up to go sit in the sun on the patio and finish the book that Shirley leant me, while eating dark Bavarian rye bread – mmm. The book was called “Grace Notes” and was really good. It made me feel totally inadequate, as all good books tend to make me feel. I want to be a writer. I want to write a novel. But what am I doing about it? Nothing. I wish I had the talent and the inspiration. Arrrggh.

This evening, Shirley drove me and Clayt (Si was out kinderwhoring again) to Brad’s, for a little gathering to watch their Aussie video (explained soon). I was feeling bored, so I dressed up in my feather boa, and semi goth makeup. I looked pretty damn swish, if I do say so myself, which I do.

At Brad’s house were gathered Nigel, Peter and Andrew, and Brad, of course. He gave us coruba&cokes, cos his dad works for Coruba, so who’d ever say no to free alcohol? So that was good. And we sat around talking for ages, debating further the anti Christian lecture (I had to work hard to restrain myself, especially with a few drinks in me). We took a Britteny/Billie vote, and unfortunatly, Billie lost 3-4. Apparently, her mouth is too big. I suggested to Peter that he should think of the possibilities that big mouths offered, and he told me that he didn’t need a very big mouth. Gosh, self disclosure, eh?

We watched the video that Brad, Andrew and Nigel made when they went to Aussie at the start of the year – they’ve spent all this time editing it together. Can we say “obsessed” ? But it was a good concentration of their personalities, so I guess that’s cool. At one stage, my journal cropped up in conversations, and people were asking what their nicknames were, cos I told Peter that he was always “Gay Christian Peter” even though the first word was a misunderstanding, and apparently he’s losing his religion now. Brad remembered his nick was “Spice Boy Brad” but I conviniently forgot the name assigned to Nigel. (Andee’s such a shocker, man!) We left when Shirley wanted to go, which was fair enough cos she was driving us.

Ewwww scary fact of the day: according to Clayt, Lurker’s had a girlfriend or two in the past. Ick. I wonder if her first words were “baaaaaaaa”.

Not that I can talk. Well, actually I can talk. Rather well, even if my speech gets a trifle slurred sometimes.

I have a ‘job’ interview on Wednesday. That’ll be funny. Fuck I hope I get it. No details yet. Most of you probably know anyways.

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