Nov 27th 2005: Was out at a cafe/bar/trendy place called Campari, in Port Melbourne and was told that because I did not send back my ‘Campari bruschetta’ when I saw it had no bocconcini and instead consumed it, no apology or money or any attempt made to acknowledge that the kitchen screwed up. Basically, an overpriced place for trendy 30-somethings who still have the audacity to wear tight clothing despite the slowing down of metabolism. A place run by fat gits, for fat gits to hang out at.
Aw, fuck you man, I was just thinking about getting Penhaligon’s Ellenisia, but you had to go and spoil it for me. Granted, the comment about English fragrances and their obsession with old-lady florals. And who does he think he is, an authority on attractive women? Exactly who isattractive enough to wear this fragrance??? He’s an authority on fragrance, not who wears it.
Dec 4th 2005: Help! I panic whenever attractive alpha-males say they want to see me, more so when they visit. I panic more when I realise I’m (what I call) an omega female. Aim low and you’ll never be disappointed!
Dec 11th 2005: I hate the festive season, I hate the summer, I hate my life. Sweet diazepam can only do so much. As usual, trying to reach my shrink in moments of semi-crisis is proving difficult. Trying to reach non-responsive friends even harder. Being bullied and belittled by particular member of family is not helping either. And why is there such a lack of computer-related definitions for the non-specialist dumb-arse like me? Don’t come crying to me when you want to know what deconstruction theory is. Just you try looking it up, then you’ll understand my pain.
Jan 24th 2006: Luca Turin, the great slayer of all delights olfactory, has ended his blog. I’m not sure how to take that news…
Apr 18th 2006: If anyone is interested in learning the identity of the person sometimes referred to as ‘Fat Cow Poet’, then I invite you to check out the latest edition of the literary journal Meanjin, in particular their next planned issue as the Fat Cow Poet has a feature in it about Florence and her pretentious farting around there (while wasting taxpayers’ money, I might add). And no, should any of her cronies read this, don’t bother thinking of suing: I didn’t mention her name. Besides, it’s only slander if it’s not true…and thanks to the glories of deconstruction theory (kisses to Derrida!), endless chain of signifiers and signifieds and so on and so forth.