Lying Around (with hobos)

This weekend has been a weekend of rest. Apart from going shopping for the next Vintage & Retro Sale (which is quickly approaching), I've spent the entire weekend, well, lying around. Despite my tasks thus far being insanely enjoyable/easy, working full time is tough. Particularly when your day to day routine involves walking through the dodgier parts of Surry Hills (ie more or less where I live). On Thursday afternoon, for instance, I plonked myself down on a park bench around the corner from the office, my intention being to drink the coffee I had just bought and to continue my reading of Breakfast at Tiffany's. Typically with a container of cous cous, this is how I usually spend my lunch breaks. Perhaps ten minutes into my break, a (presumably) homeless man walked up to me and jovially muttered something incomprehensible through a mouth full of bacon and egg roll. As is my nature when approached by a stranger, even when being asked directions, I uttered the stock response: No. In hindsight however, it seems he asked me something along the lines of: 'You're my sister. Did you know that we're family?' Because he then sits down next to me and proceeds to inform me that everyone in the whole wide world is descended from the same two people: Yes, none other than Mr. Adam and Mrs. Eve. I gulped down the rest of my rather awful and oversized coffee (no, it wasn't Starbucks, though it might as well have been) as I listened to this man tell be that, though he was forty-two, he only discovered the bible last week. He expressed his bafflement that the church didn't publicise the 'fact' that we're all relatives more, and his sadness that he didn't discover it earlier. "Because before, I probably would have come up to you and asked you for *sex* or something. But you're my sister, and I shouldn't be having sex with my sister." For the hard of hearing, let me repeat that: HE TOTALLY THOUGHT WE WOULD HAVE HAD SEX, WERE I NOT HIS SISTER. He offered me some of his half-eaten bacon and egg roll before telling me to say hi to my Mum and Dad and tell them that we'll all catch up soon. As I was leaving, slowly and cautiously, he hugged me tightly and KISSED ME ON THE NECK. Suffice to say, on returning from my lunch break, I spent like, four hours in the bathroom vigorously soaping my hands and neck. Ah, okay, I'm being harsh, aren't I? Because well meaning hobos (as this one) are alright. Just don't let them have sex with you/kiss you. You might catch cancer.

In less cancerous news, check out some recent snaps I took for 2threads:

Radio National iTunes Launch

Street Style: Surry Hills and Cassette Kids Gig

P.S. I just discovered I have 69 blogger followers and I totally giggled. Yes, I'm immature. But I have read the Bible, so I'm *allowed* to make jokes about sex. It's not like I'm gonna go asking my 69 followers to have sex with me. Although, if I offered them bacon and egg roll I'm sure they would totally be up for it. Oh, and actually, when I say I've 'read' the Bible? I mean four or five pages. Maybe less.

P.P.S. You know how I kind of made fun of the Bible/God? I take it back. All of it. Because, obviously, someone's fucking with me here.

WHAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS? Make this stop and I promise I won't go ahead with trying to seduce my readers. Or make any jokes about sex ever again. I just saw this guy's photostream anyway and I'm pretty sure I'm SCARRED. For life.

Golden Skans

Shimmy over to Weardrobe to see me featured on the front page again. They questioned me on my American Apparel gold tights which I wore in my last blog post (below). Here are the answers I gave.


"My gold American Apparel leggings were a birthday gift from my Mother last September. Despite exclaiming that I would look like C3PO when I answered her twice yearly question of what I would like but can't buy in exchange for coinage (which is the only form of payment familiar to me these days and apparently places don't accept coinage for purchases over $10). She got them from the American Apparel store that only recently opened up in Sydney. She got me size large for the length and guess what? They're not even saggy. American Apparel have some fucked up views on what large is. I dream of wearing them with floral dresses and patent vests, bulky shoes and layered stockings. Thus far however, there have been far few days cool enough to embrace them as much as I would like but they're sitting in my closet waiting to burst out when I go to Europe in March. On this side of the globe it's expected to reach up to 40 degrees on the weekend. I have little doubt that if I wore them on such a day my circuits would overheat."

After writing the above, my dear friend Ellen informed me that the XS from American Apparel is baggy on her. Granted, she's tiny (and likes her things tight) but apparently, everyone is much smaller than I, there are no real large people in this world (THE OBESITY EPIDEMIC IS A LIE), and I am a large in American Apparel because I am, well, large. Like, a red wigged Godzilla. How have I only just realised this?