Rock Dog

The Friday downpour was much less effective at dampening my spirits than the large crack in the sole of my shoe but neither mattered once I'd made my way to the prohibition themed club 1806 for a wee tipple with friends in town. At the designated changeover, I met The Lovely Samantha outside and took Bodhi home to bed while she continued the revelry into the wee hours of the morn.

On Saturday, I beheld something truly ingenious. Not since Fermat's Last Theorum have I seen a more stunningly beautiful solution to a seemingly intractable problem. Now I truly dislike flea markets/garage sales. Years of being dragged around markets as a child by my mother have scarred me for life (How I stumbled onto a partner equally as enamored of sifting through other's trash is a question only Oedipus can answer). So imagine my surprise when some bright spark down here decides to have a flea market in a pub. Beer downstairs, hippy tie dye skirts upstairs. Need I say more?

Sunday was just beaut. We started with brunch, mopped around a bit then eventually made our way to the Charity cup AFL match in Elsternwick for the arvo. It's a fund raising tradition which pits the Triple R Megahertz against The Espy Rockdogs. Cheer leaders, transvestites, tranny cheer leaders, The Living End, a muddy center bounce, beer whenches, you name it, it had it. In fact the only thing lacking was any semblance of footballing skill. Charity was the winner on the day.

see ya,
Minas.