For a weekend in which I was meant to get a whole lot of work done, it seemed I did almost nothing. I only managed to get 3 hours of work on Manifest down, not including the meeting. Fairly relaxing, non-productive weekend… and it all started on Friday night when I started hearing the blingleblingleblingle sound of an inevitable flashback sequence. Unaware of what it was at the time, I assumed it was the last gasp of a dying heroin addict.

You see, I was in Brunswick at time for a friend’s farewell party. He’s off to the US to marry his Texan beau. Most of us think he’s insane. But he met her online, so we know it’s true love, even if she is a man of which we are most assiduously assured she is not. Having actually met her, I’ll reserve my judgement until I’ve slept with “her”.

So there we are at the Retreat Hotel. It’s a hole very reminiscent of that first level of Guitar Hero. It also happens to be right across the road from The Brunswick Green. Another hole that is similarly reminiscent, but it does have the one charming feature of being a regular haunt for the goths that live in the area. If the party had been there, I’d have been able to get a meal more appetising, and had conversation with people who weren’t going to chastise me in the same way they do to the kindergarten children under their care, or like I was some amazingly weird, drunk asian man hitting on them.

Inevitably, it began to rain, and it was no longer my scene. I decided I’d go and hang out with my favourite DJ couple, who are also getting married soon incidentally, only to find out that one half had gone to Sound Tech at the Eltham RSL for some band or other… So there Jaz & I sit, with a certain Pooley ne Brand delivering head scritches whilst we watched the original X-Men movie (with the original Sabretooth) and Dark City, before heading back to the farewell party, which had moved to Noise bar by this time.

It’s at this moment I’m beginning to think everywhere in Brunswick must be a hole, because Noise bar manages to be one such place. In its defence, it has a well stocked bar and a stage with live performance that you can hear perfectly well from the area where you don’t actually have to pay to see the performance. I believe by the time we arrived the Funky Brews & Bastian were long gone, and we were down to Dawn Curfew… A totally vampiric name, steeped in stygian darkness beset by mesmiroh fuck it, I really wasn’t paying attention to the music. I cared that much. I had Care Factor Zero. Amazingly enough, the same name as the band playing at the Eltham RSL.

It was around this time my errant friend ZhengQi had managed to get himself amazingly wasted, and be all over an ersatz friend without even realising it… There is nothing funnier than the look of put upon woman who normally handles three year olds for her day job, and is now being handled by someone in a state of similar mental capacity.

Well, maybe someone with a thick Indian accent telling you about big breasted strap on lesbian porn they watched the night before… I’m amazed I don’t have a link to send you to for that one. Clearly I’m slipping.

As it was I left for the evening, having much to do the next day. Apparently those remaining thought otherwise, and wandered off to the Men’s Gallery. And this is, for me, the funniest part of the evening. About this time, yet another friend was at Red Moon, being abandoned by her friends and asking to meet up with us. I mentioned the strip club plan. There was some hesitation and delay… before being asked which one. In ZhengQi’s mind however, it was none. He insisted that he didn’t want to go somewhere that made you pay without getting to touch… so he went someone where you pay to touch, so I’m told… although no pix, so I guess it didn’t happen.

I decided to have a good night’s sleep as I had much to do th…

To Be Continued… tomorrow…

You might also like to read:

1. Black Widows, White Weddings & Trips to the Brothel (pt2)
2. Black Widows, White Weddings & Trips to the Brothel (pt3)
3. Black Widows (26/09/09)
4. The Last Black Widows [VIC]

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