Look at me look at me look at me!

Most of you should know by now that there was a meeting for about 35o CEOs from around the world yesterday afternoon at the Opera house, and also a protest of what was supposed to be a 10 000 strong protest group.

In truth 500 is already very generous. Most of them didn't seem know what they were protesting about any more than I do. Raving on about random things, jumping from anti-globalisation to Aboriginal land to war in Iraq.

It was only until today when they all congregated in front of my store in daylight that I saw why it was such a pathetic protest. Today there were only about 100 people; most of them young hooligans and goths, sporting dreadlocks, mohawks and shit for brains. The police were abit of an overkill, vastly outnumbering them with walls of coppers and dozens of mounted police.

Seems to me they were rebelling for the sake of rebelling.

Another bit of news of the day: Mr Rudy Giuliani came into my store with three "don't fuck with me" looking bodyguards. He managed to escape with his wallet unscathed. Fucker.

So far that I know of we've had:
Treasurer of Indonesia,
Princess of Japan,
Bill Clinton,
Some dictator or such from some part of Africa,
Many a random politicians from China and Taiwan,
Keanu Reeves,
and Sylvester Stallone's mother. Heh.

Pity the only one with photo is Keanu Reeves.

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Whaapern?

Again my birthday went past in a flash. I haven't been able to recall any birthday parties since my 21st. I haven't received any messages of "OMG GUESS WAT U DID LAST NITE!!!" nor is my crotch any itchier than normal so I'm going to assume it was a good night.

First off before I forget anymore.

Happy Birthday Pat.

Celebrated a few weeks past by Verandah bar and Karaoke. How typical. But if you're onto a good thing....
Verandah bar didn't disappoint as usual. Fuckin funny as hell as always. Probably due to the fact that I'm always off my head and laughing at everybody and everything. Fact: Pat's no fun around Yooke. Shamefully sober and just stood around really like a piece of furniture really. Karaoke was good, although messy. Many MANY casualties that night. Pat redeemed himself by drinking heavily ( I think ) and Tessa as usual is violent, scary and annoying when drunk.
Getting used to it. At least I managed to fight her off and send her aggression to Michael. The poor lil bugger.
Those two nights I spent in my car. Both times woke up scared and no idea where the hell I was.

Big Jen's farewell / Cousin's birthday.

Was already drinking heavily before met up with Big Jen, because I was with cousins at karaoke ( K square, which reminded me of sum seedy drug den or brothel, not that I'd know of course. ).
Big Jen's farewell was shit. Trekked all the way with Chog to Bungalow 8 from Capital Square only to find that half the people were barred from entry. Members started trickling away into the night as we made our way to Home bar so that everyone could get in and by then I had to bail.
Bailed with Phil and Wilma to their friend Claudia's birthday and DAMN does she know some honeys! FUCK. It was a hunting ground in there. Guys running around frothing at the mouth and attacking free for all. Whored Chog off to random girls while we were there.
For all his talk he does jack shit.

My Birthday.

Don't actually remember much. I was drunk for so damn long. It was a bloody marathon. Usually you drink steadily until your body gives up and launches your dinner out through your nose, but I decided to tone down the drinking abit this year.
To a certain extent. So instead of being outright demolished, I drifted around the house half the night just borderlining K.O. Everytime I recover abit somebody shoves another drink in my mitt with a slurred "GUN BEI!" ( bottoms up ).

One bbq bit the dust before it even started, thanks to incompetent pyros. You're meant to fan the flames til the coal is glowing, then spread them. Jebus. Spent hours trying to revive that fire while I sent others to cook on my gas BBQ. Gas BBQs. Its just not the same without some good ol fashioned carceninogenic ash. Like mum used to make.

Yooke and Nat baked me a cake. I'll show pics later but somehow they thought a pink poodle was appropiate. Last year I told them to buy me a fridge. And they actually did. This year I shouted at Nat to bake me a cake.. and I got that too ( Although I also told her to do my laundry. ).
Next year I'm asking them to find me some vagina.

The boys. Faithful, loyal boys. Came, ate and then bailed straight away cause of some chick. Bastards. Not that I wouldn't do the same. Although next year I'm gonna crazy glue tongs in their hands and duct tape them to the grill.

Don't remember much after cake to tell you the truth. Just... very dizzy for ... very long. Stu AKA "Spike" lives up to his name yet again by spiking every drink that I had when I wasn't paying attention. It got suss when my "Bourbon and coke" looked more like Fanta.
Its always fun to swallow gushes of vomit after every sip.

Other notes:

• So many pussies refused to drink although my loyal family ko'ed quite willingly.
• My pug shit double his body weight the next day.
• Got kissed by someone who had *just* finished throwing up. Oily goodness.
• Nearly broke my back playing "The stick game".
• I think I wrestled with someone and almost threw up on them. Not sure if I dreamt that though.

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