Fishing tales.

As a child , nothing excited me more than our family fishing trips - I'd grab my red rod and set out, determined to catch myself a new pet, or something equally as exciting. My sister and I would spend hours, bruising backsides against rocks, and screaming out over the slightest tug on the ends of our fishing lines. I always secretly wished someone would bring up a boot – just to see the cliché’ realised I guess… All I ever caught on my hook was the skin of my fingertips.



My sister once caught a crab and managed to smuggle it back home with us. We were determined to keep Sebastian as our pet. We fed him bread and made him a home in a sand-bucket filled with tap water and collected shells. My cousin thought it fitting to add table salt to Sebastian’s home. He didn’t last the night. Our mothers tried to tell us he ran back to the beach, but I knew better.

Le Femme.

In only catching a glimpse of the show Dexter this evening, I was shown enough to anger the fiery feminist in me. The scene I speak of included Dexter and his female partner/hot sidekick. Little miss was weeping over her tormented soul - she felt badly about some action of hers blah blah. Dexter pats the fragile woman on the shoulder, as his 'voice of god' comentary narrates the situation at hand. It is a sad convention of these cop shows that the female cop (always singular) puts up a tough-no b/s-professional front, only to break down every so often like the meek little girl she really is.

Weak Knees

I felt my body rock from side-to-side. A voice was coming from some far away place; I couldn’t understand the words being spoken. I opened my eyes and lifted my head, meeting the gaze of a petite face. The white room felt small. I was smacked by a wave of vertigo and my head fell against something cold and hard. I became aware that I was damn uncomfortable.
Shit. I’m on the floor.

- I never did handle blood tests very well.

Cream

No, I am not referring to the indiscretely sexual Prince song.

Cream (fully titled Cream on King) is the name of a vintage clothing store on King st, Newtown. The store stocks a range of vintage clothes and shoes, but is most recognised for its awesome, custom-made leather jackets - which is what drew me into its doors this very afternoon. Cream on King has taken pre-loved leather jackets and breathed new life, and style into the 'seasoned' numbers. There's heaps to choose from and prices are impressive. I picked up a jacket today for only $130 which I LUURRVE.

Check it out if you can :)

....Cream, Sh-boogie bop