The Last Bastion Of Absurdity

Oh my god it is so fucking hot I swear argh. I want ten million showers, stat. There are bugs EVERYWHERE. The other day a big black spider was just a-sittin' on one of my towels on the line, you know, just chillin' like. I shook it out and it just didn't move. So obviously I panicked and let my dad finish taking in the towels. I stuck electrical tape on a hole in our flyscreen but there were already three fat flies in the kitchen and I'm just not as handy with a slipper as I used to be. FUCK YOU SUMMMERRRRR.

On W- ...oh, yesterday (fuck I'm losing track of time again) I trekked out Parramatta-wise to Lily's house for to make some jam. It was MAD FUCKING HOT, have I mentioned this? It was like a pizza oven, the walk back to hers from the station was hellish. Heat radiating from the asphalt, I half expected PLUUUMES OF FLAAAAME in dramatic fashion to burst forth from the scenery. And then Lily's house was UP A DRIVEWAY FFS. But finally we got inside and I just lay right down on the cool tiles and demanded ice cubes. Then I made friends with her cat (big-boned fucker that it is, large cat is LARGE, mate) and squee'd over her hilarious electric guitar. She explained that she thought the red was boring so she covered it in stickers and then set it on fire, but it wouldn't burn, so she just stuck more stickers on. Said stickers bore the visages of such wicked items as ANTHRAX, Cthulu, Pikachu, badass flame designs and Hello Kitty.

Anyway we did some recording on a little device whose inner workings are beyond my understanding, and Lily also insisted on recording our practice runs because she felt like she was "losing a part of her" when we got the first go right and it wasn't on tape (metaphorically speaking as the Device was pour la mp3). I pointed out that you're not really a real musician unless you can, y'know, duplicate your awesome before successive crowds on different occasions, but there you have it, we now have various mp3's of two songs, an argument and some fucking around with E minor and a tumbleweed solo.

Then it was time for me to head off to a comedy show entitled The Complete Works of Shakespeare (Abridged), which styled itself to be The Bard Without The Boring Bits (although I've gotta admit they may have taken out Shakespeare's boring bits but they added a couple of their own). I did not have to make the return journey in the afternoon's wretched heat but only because it was raining. I ate some ramen (Lily has a sort of collection) and borrowed an umbrella (and three dollars because I had forgotten to get money out and used up the last of my change getting there). Then I put on my make-up on the train, because I woke up at one pm and had to run to get to Lily's in time to not just have to turn around and leave again. I was incidentally a trifle overdressed as all my pants were in the wash, and somehow I don't have any skirts that go with anything that doesn't end up looking fancy, unless they're really casual and only really suitable for the beach. IDK! I don't wear skirts that often! I don't know how to do it!

The show was actually pretty funny but I don't think it was worth $55, really. I mean there is hilarious comedy, there is my high school drama class, and there is eight minutes of a bloke in a dress pretending to vomit on people, and it is closer to one than the other if you know what I mean. However the second half, which largely consisted of Hamlet, was pretty awesome. I think my favourite bit was Hamlet, Again, Really Really Fast, Backwards. In sum, I loled. Then we stood around outside arguing over where to go next. Liza was telephonically in favour of a Sydney Festival performance by a Russian band called Volgograd, Gleb was for waiting for Liza to actually show up, Stan was for going home and entertaining the possibility of going to work in the morning, Gathy took initiative and wandered off to see a street piano with Brinton. I waved my arms around a bit and looked put upon. Finally we reached some sort of consensus and began to move vaguely in the general direction of the carpark.

Volgograd, who were playing in something called the Famous Spiegeltent, although what it is famous for and why it is Spiegel I wouldn't have a clue, were tolerably amusing. Me, Sasha, Liza and Val played "spot the recycled Russian tune." (I also secretly played "what does Sasha's facial expression mean." I am not very good at that game, I always think he is pissed off when actually he is thinking about lunch, or something.) The singer sounded like my grandad after a couple of vodka shots. The band had one of those giant triangular ukelele things, what are they called? Also an accordion and a couple of trombones. A very drunk lady asked me to mind her drink, which was in one of those flute glasses. Flustered, I said "no" - whereupon she got confused and said "I can't leave it here?"

"Well, you can, but I'm not going to like, be responsible for-" I tried. "I mean I'm not going to DO anything to it-"

"You might!" she said cheerfully. "I don't know you very well!"

Then she wandered off. I shrugged, everyone else laughed at me. After a while we dispersed, by which I mean Gathy made vague noises about going home and disappeared in a puff of smoke, and all the Maroubra bus people plus Brinton wandered towards the bus stop, leaving Gleb and Liza to presumably do couple-y things, such as they could manage in a large German-themed tent full of drunken Russians and Aussies.

Which finished off the night with me, Sasha, Val and Brinton sitting at a bus stop for half an hour at two in the morning, daydreaming about sandwiches, watching Boston Legal on Brinton's laptop, and chatting to a random wasted Irish hippy who looked at the laptop and cheerfully announced that technology confused him and he would rather live in a field with a stick and a pig.

*jazz hands*