Weekend

[sharplittleteeth]

Friday night:
Up late sewing badges onto my canvas gi. I am not a natural-born tailor.


Saturday:
Karate. Nap. Yummy dinner at Veg Out Time. Then on to DJ Harold Holt's 40th birthday party at the Back Bar.

Birthday boy looked resplendant in his new pith helmet. Lots of lovely people to talk to. I may or may not have drunk too much absinthe again.

(Although, if you're going to do the whole historically innaccurate "Bohemian" setting-fire-to-the-sugar-cube ritual, could you please at least do it on the bar top where everyone can see and go "Ooo!"?)

And there was cake. Oh boy, was there cake.

I have this theory about travel stories: no one wants to hear your story about how you saw an elephant, and it was magnificent. Everyone wants to hear your story about how you saw an elephant, and it almost killed you.

After Saturday night, there is now the Birthday Cake corallary to that theory:

No one wants to hear your story about how you bought an elephant birthday cake, and it was beautiful. Everyone one wants to hear your story about how you bought an elephant birthday cake, and it was a total, hilarious, monstrosity.


Sunday:
Bought sexy new jacket from fey rock musician/menswear assistant. Ate chirashi sushi for lunch. Came home, roasted vegetables and watched Doctor Who with my sweetie.


All in all:
Damn fine weekend.

Comments

[frou-frou.livejournal.com]

When it's posted to cake wreck, you'll have to let us know!

Dreadful woman - oh, well, as you say, karma will get her. And losing a good customer won't hurt (you) either.