Well it’s mardi gras in Sydney this weekend . In honour of the event i’d like to wear some nipple tassles whilst on bed rest, but i’m sorry to say i won’t be, they’re too bloody sore. (My body seems to be confused , because the book says nipple cripple is supposed to END with 1st trimester, not start now). I’m going to have to wear padded something whilst knitting, if I bump my boob with the knitting needle one more time. And why oh why is it always the left one, huh?
Here’s to all the gay couples hoping to marry out there. Let’s hope at next year’s mardi gras it IS legal, and there’s some weddings with more style & trashy dancing, and a shitload of gay tourists flying out here to marry in a progressive country. I think it would revitalise the institution of marriage, not to mention give the bridal industry a bit of shake up.
Yet again someone has organised for rain on their parade tonight (half of Sydney is in flood as we speak), but I’ve always found sequins look better when they’re wet. And there’s nothing like the mascara on a bedraggled drag queen. Just don’t slip over, girls. At least not til the after party.
BASTARD the clot has chosen to ignore his deadline and is a little worse for yesterday’s few hours out of the house. Nothing major. I’ll give him til Thursday’s ob visit, then he needs to fuck off. Please. Nicely. You would think he’d realise punctuality is important.
The Knit one shit one scarf is progressing well. We’re into our third colour, and I’m not sure whether it’s going to be a scarf or a nanna blankie now. It may depend on when I run out of wool / attention span . Per episode of gossip girl, I average about half a dropped stitch, so I seem to be on the improve .
I’m ripping through the twilight books as well. Bella is currently still human at the end of book three, she hasn’t bonked anyone, and the vampires and werewolves finally figured out they needed to cooperate, as I’d been telling them since book 2. Jacob needs to wax if he’s ever gonna get the girl. Just ask those attending mardi gras. (A back sack and crack would do him wonders).
Happy Mardi Gras, peeps. Have a margharita for me.