TRASHLESS PERTH PANIC *RANT*
Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh! I just got sent an invitation to yet ANOTHER extraordinary party happening in Sydney when I am not there, and have almost lost the plot. Of course they are hiring a dirty rundown sports club, of course my mates are DJing, of course people will be super-dressed up and dancing til the wee small hours JUST BECAUSE THERE ARE BIRTHDAYS. Of course its the same weekend that my other mates, a perverted body piercer and one of the freakiest queerest performance artistes I have ever encountered, are having their housewarming party. Of course.
Monster just pointed out that 'its going to be a long summer' and I daresay she is right. I don't know m/any real trash bags here. I have nobody to play with really, people all go home early, can't go out on schoolnights blah blah blah. Outside of 4 hours of Zoo per week, there are NO queer happenings. We have NO queer performance art that I have encountered (with the exception of Stryker and myself). There are a few drag queens, like Kylie-lip-syncing, and that's about it! I have heard RUMOURS of long ago when folk had orgies in spas and took lots of chemicals and slutted about and... well, think the horse has bolted on that! Everyone has bloody mortgages and sensible haircuts and proper jobs and can barely muster the energy have a beer at the bloody COURT once a month...
Hmm. What to do? Be grateful for the time I DO have in Sydney, enjoy the civilised adventures of Perth (wildflowers, museums, art, quiet bars and laughing at the beige and bogan), make the most of Zoo, try to instigate some sort of PULSE and be grateful for the time I get to chill out and write my thesis without the worry of a potential hangover. SIGH.
Oh, and PLAY PARTIES! I almost forgot play parties! Like, queer ones, not just icky sticky swingers in bad PVC. Damn!
Monster just pointed out that 'its going to be a long summer' and I daresay she is right. I don't know m/any real trash bags here. I have nobody to play with really, people all go home early, can't go out on schoolnights blah blah blah. Outside of 4 hours of Zoo per week, there are NO queer happenings. We have NO queer performance art that I have encountered (with the exception of Stryker and myself). There are a few drag queens, like Kylie-lip-syncing, and that's about it! I have heard RUMOURS of long ago when folk had orgies in spas and took lots of chemicals and slutted about and... well, think the horse has bolted on that! Everyone has bloody mortgages and sensible haircuts and proper jobs and can barely muster the energy have a beer at the bloody COURT once a month...
Hmm. What to do? Be grateful for the time I DO have in Sydney, enjoy the civilised adventures of Perth (wildflowers, museums, art, quiet bars and laughing at the beige and bogan), make the most of Zoo, try to instigate some sort of PULSE and be grateful for the time I get to chill out and write my thesis without the worry of a potential hangover. SIGH.
Oh, and PLAY PARTIES! I almost forgot play parties! Like, queer ones, not just icky sticky swingers in bad PVC. Damn!
Labels: rambling
posted by Zoo at 2:56 pm
2 Comments:
Poor poor caged Zooooooo! I feel for you babycakes! If i wasn't such an old married stick in the mud, I'd be more accomodating of your carnal and visceral needs!
aaah the good old Bacchanalian days... rum times indeed!
Hope you and your significunt monster are both over your phlegm issues.
Love your guts, M xxx
social isolation... living regional with urban desires... hey i feel you, baby... can't wait for the influx of queers come new year! if i don't get to sydney before then... xx
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