With Barb’s at the Opera House for Stephen Fry.
Matt, my mover and shaker friend from Melbourne.
Aunt Viv and i dining on African food for my birthday.
Julie, my fab friend nominated for Australian of the year.
“Nature never repeats herself, and the possibilities of one human soul will never be found in another” Elizabeth Cody Stanton.
The studio.
The panel (No, that’s not Arge Barker in the front)
Lunch at the Ratkellar, comprising traditional fare of pig shanks, schnitzengruben sausage, sourkraut and a chaser of Preludin capsules scored in the ladies abultions room.
I don’t advocate violence, however if i saw a guy wearing a poncho like this, i’d bash him. I love how the bubba has obviously been drugged to stop it crying, and freaking out at being dressed, in what can only be loosely described as a miasma of cross stitch crochet.
Some lovely ornaments from Karens mantle piece.
A bottle of Paul McCartney’s home brew, tastefully named.
Karen and i at the Melbourne museum.
