I’d like to plop my brain into a fish bowl and place it on a window ledge somewhere.


From:    'J'
Date:     03 May 2001 12:37AM
To:      'S'
Subject:  Transvestites and tranquillisers


Hey Sis. What’s up?  Me, I’m getting out more now that Paige’s moved out. Can’t just sit around and wait to be entertained, goddammit.  So I went to Fitzroy on the weekend, watched a sextagenarian transvestite with an ostrich feather in her hair do the mambo to a 60’s cover band whilst I scanned the audience for possible lurve-matches for my two accomplices, Mia (my ex) and Lisa.  Having no luck with the Rainbow Hotel and its racy pensioners, we tottered off to Bar Open (should be called Bar Crowded) on Brunswick Street and watched a Jazz/Blues Combo upstairs play to a crowd of hipsters and tortured cats, sitting on the floor drinking red wine in their polo necks. There was one particularly “jive” individual who positively shivered with ecstasy and shuddered with joy at the “wicked licks”. I had to stop myself sticking a spoon in his gob to prevent him from choking on his tongue, but every now and then he accidentally lapsed into air guitar and I knew he was OK.

I did have a bit of a look for a lurve-match for myself, but I won’t pick up all year. I can feel it in my waters. Or should I say I can feel it in my blubber.

Sunday I went riding through Thornbury with Mia (my aforementioned ex-) and Louise (my other ex).  Oddly enough, this didn’t feel weird.  We came across an all-woman match of AFL.  Cor blimey they go hard!    No punches pulled, plenty of biffo, just how I like it!  Then went and looked in second-hand shops in High Street.  Do you ever get the feeling in these places that maybe the second-hand shop is just an excuse for crazy old ladies to hoard?  You couldn’t even GET to half of the stuff in the place, no kidding. At least half of the shop was inaccessible due to the huge slag heaps of shite.  Didn’t find anything I wanted.

Someone, however, did find Paige’s bike in her backyard at her new place and helped themselves to it.  Mongrels.  She’s gutted, naturally, but trying to be philosophical about, enjoying the time on public transport to read and not get wet and sweaty.   No-one likes that, now, do they?   Snort snort!   She’s settled into her house though, chickens, thieves and all.  Jade’s and my new housemate is pretty cool.   Her name’s Lena, she has FANTASTIC taste in movies, which basically means that it’s identical to mine.  We watched ‘Crazy for You’ the other night.  Wot a classic, with an on-screen performance by “lady-rocker” Madonna, no less! It was the “lady-rocker” reference on the cover that sucked me in. I’m trying to convince Jade to quit CPD and become a “lady-rocker”.  No luck yet, but I’m hopeful.

FlNALLY got around to going to the doctor for my $120 worth of medicine. $120 bucks worth!   Can you believe it?   My body is a traitor to me, Sis.  I’m thinking of having it replaced, between you and me. I’d like to plop my brain into a fish bowl and place it somewhere scenic, on a window ledge somewhere.  I’m tired of life in the fast lane.  Sigh.  While I was there (at the doctor’s) I managed to weasel some tranquilisers out of him for my upcoming dental ordeal.  I haven’t been for 3 or 4 years, but I’ve been reading Martin Amis‘s autobiography “Experience” where he bangs on about his teeth ad nauseum.  He had to get all his top ones ripped out and wear a denture set that he calls “The Clamp”.  Half his bottom ones also had to come out and be replaced with titanium pegs or something. It put the frighteners on me I can tell you that.  I know my chompers aren’t in   great shape but surely not THAT…

Last night I met some old ‘Who the Fuck Cares’ cohorts at the Corner Hotel in Richmond for dinner.  Ah, wot a dank hole the Corner is!  It has a special place in my heart. So we were having a good time until the Open Mike Comedy Night started.  Jesus, did they stink or wot? The first one, the MC for the evening, was alright, but the next guy stank so bad we sneaked (snuck?) out while he fiddled with his mike mid-set.  Went over the road to Bar 94, then slinked (slunk?) next to Dizzy’s another “jazzzzz club”.  (It was free.)

They had a big band playing. They were good musicians but they could have chosen less hackneyed songs – “Fever”, “No. 7”, that sort of thing. And it’s not like they couldn’t play other songs, they were all sight-reading so it’s not like they were untalented. I thought about taking them aside (there was about 15 of them) and having a word, but I was a bit tuckered out.  Jade and I stayed for about 4 songs then noisily clumped our way across the polished floorboards (who puts polished floorboards in a music venue?) and wobbled home.

Well, must away, old stick. I’ve dentist appointments to make, lurve-matches to snare and musical advice to give.


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