The closest I’m gonna come to getting lucky will be getting run over by a necrophiliac.

Thursday, 16 Feb 1995, 9:15am Hi Sis, How did you sleep last night? No dreams about aliens or anything? I feel great this morning. I’m riding high on a caffeine surge of goodness and I want to smile so wide that my head splits in two. Luuuurve that strong cappuccino from “Roozervelts Cafe” on Collins Street first thing in the morning. The guy who usually … Continue reading The closest I’m gonna come to getting lucky will be getting run over by a necrophiliac.

I hate eating in places where the table cloth is cleaner than my clothes. I like a dive, a greasy spoon.

Friday, 3 Feb 1995 Sis, Well, I didn’t end up going to that party at Christopher’s on Saturday night. What does he expect anyway, inviting me to a party where the only people I know are the host, who’ll be running around all night and someone else I haven’t see in four years. Christopher will be mightily pissed off though. I’m trying really hard to … Continue reading I hate eating in places where the table cloth is cleaner than my clothes. I like a dive, a greasy spoon.