You may judge me from my posts. But I did have a life before the internet. I wasn't always so boring.
I am fondly remembering our breakfasts at Cudgee Court, Ashburton or Ashwood, or maybe even Wellard Road, Box Hill South, whatever, a friends place. Vodka, champagne and orange juice, bacon and eggs on the barbecue, shelter from the hot early morning summer sun, a smoke of some of Gippsland's finest, a laugh, a look around the beautiful gardens, a chat, much silliness, much laughter.
When someone knocked over their pepper vodka in a house in down town Collingwood, guess who licked it up off the table.
Was it me who fell over in the gutter outside the Peel Hotel and could not work out which way was up so that I could stand up? R was no help trying to drag me up. I just needed to know which way to move.
Was it me who was on stage at a gay bar and lying on stage while this hot stripper did simulated sex on me? I got to know the guy a bit a couple of years later. He was straight, but a really nice guy.
I could be responisble too. I managed to drag a stubborn friend off Carlisle Street when she stood in front of tram and blocked it's progress. More than once when out with friends and things started to go pear shaped, I stepped in and rescued the situation.
It all seems so long ago. Do I wish I was doing these sorts of things still? No, but I am glad I did them. Non, je ne regret rien. It sounds so terribly old, but I am happy to leave it to the younguns.
The problem with older people blogging is that they have an awful lot to write about.