Tuesday, 30 January 1996 11:59PM Christ S, people really can’t be trusted with a secret can they? Henry the Brit has just let a cat out of a bag, and into some pretty dangerous hands too, might I add. Explanation: About three editions ago, there was an incredible typo that appeared in “Who the Fuck Cares”. It was a rude word, the rudest word there … Continue reading The absolute MOTHER of all typos.
Thursday, 25 January 1996 12:30PM S, Another day at the mill. Grinding, grinding… Might go straight home from work tonight, I’m short on cash and just not in the party spirit. Leah picked me up from work last night. Went back to her place for an hour or so until traffic died down (Leah hates Flemington Road at rush hour) and then she drove me … Continue reading Everyone was thrilled to see me in a suit, I told them I’d found a corpse.
Wednesday, 24 January 1996 12:30pm Went and saw “Kids” last night with Brett and Lara. Wasn’t bad, though the tattooed twosome didn’t dig it much. They hate anything American, and Brett is so rabidly anti-drugs that his view of the film was a bit blinkered I thought. Not that I reckon it was a great piece of cinema or anything, but it had more value … Continue reading It’s funny the things that demand brain-time on the tram.
Monday, 22 January 1996 12:22PM S, Gotta meet Kate (Brett’s old girlfriend) today for lunch. A bit nervous about it really, I always struggle for something to talk about with her. She’s going overseas in about five weeks with her post-Brett bloke, Hussein, supposedly for good. (I must remember to give them your number Sis, I know how you love taking in free-loading Aussie backpackers, don’t let … Continue reading I can’t call Crazy Tim, “crazy” anymore – turns out he actually is.
Wednesday, 17 January 1996 12:30pm S, Hi. More Fun with J on the Trams. Sat across from some bloke with a scar on his neck this morning that nearly went from one ear to the other, it was huge. I wonder how he got it. I couldn’t help sneaking looks over my book, I kept thinking what it would be like to have your neck-bits … Continue reading Imagine having your neck sliced open like that.
Friday, 12 January 1996 1:00PM Damn it S, Just found out I’ve missed out on my Christmas bonus. It’s because I wasn’t here to collect it, and to ask for it now on top of the overtime and long holiday I got, it seems grasping, especially since it’s only $150. Would’ve been handy though. Friday drinks tonight, my first with all the new arrivals. See … Continue reading Introducing Buck Butcher, he’s Bonkers for Big-Breasted Broads.
Wednesday, 10 January 1996 1:30pm Well Mum finally showed up yesterday and we had a nice lunch, in “The Great Space Cafe” (I paid). We’re both dieting so it was a measly round of sandwiches and a cappuccino each. The reading mood is upon me again. Finally finished off that Hardy novel “Far from the Madding Crowd”, flicked through this Dostoyevsky short story/novelette, ditto a … Continue reading I won’t lie to you, I am a book snob.
Monday, 8 January 1996 3:00PM Hey Sis, How ya doin’? Can’t believe you’ve been gone almost a week. Guess where I am. Yep I’m back at work, but I’ve been relocated. Simon and I have been prised from under our rock and shunted out into the general office space. I’ve lost my little cubby hole Sis. I’m now back to back with Bett. This is … Continue reading There’s a pair of Elvis sunglasses I have a real hankering for. What to do, what to do.
Tuesday 21 November 1995 9:16AM Hey S, Tuesday mornin’, strollin’ up Collins Street, wading through a block and a half of baby-puke stink-smell that’s swirling invisibly around me from Elizabeth to Russell Street. I’m wearing a new shirt. It’s an ugly blue, gonna buy another two today, maybe. Just missed Princess Di’s diatribe on morning TV. Not sorry really, I think she’s ghastly. Goddamned show-pony, … Continue reading Columbo investigates the Swedish Postal System.
Tuesday, 14 November 1995 1:07 PM Hey Sis, Been a few days since I’ve had time to write. Let’s see… Friday night I ended up going to the Esplanade Hotel in St Kilda with Nadia and her boyfriend Aaron to see a what can only be describe as a Psycho-billy three-piece band they’re called the “Fireballs”. They all had mohawks and no shirts on. Simplistic but … Continue reading What’s my scene?
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