31 March, 2005

jesus goes to heaven and back, munkey plays on the ground

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when one part of your life starts going okay, another falls spectacularly to pieces. ~"Jones" bastardising Austen

If this is true, I am concerned. Things are looking sunny in munkeyland... unless perhaps this adage refers to the crumbling state of my finances, in regard to which I am quite happy to keep my head metaphorically buried in the sand, and literally buried in the gin.

On Thursday, at long last, I met Dr (Dave) Goo, who was taking a break from revolutionising the 7-Eleven corporation, to spend an evening with munkey boi. Perfectly punctual, he dropped in to my apartment with a broad smile and a vigorous shake of my hand, before we headed off in his very flashy Astra to Fitzroy. Mao's was booked out, so we dithered up Brunswick St for a while, before settling on Café Nova for a fine meal. After dinner, Melbourne's weather treated us to a sudden storm of freezing wind and stinging rain as we marched back up to Gertrude St to the Builders Arms, but we got there without looking too much like drowned rats. We were there early, so didn't have to queue in the elements to get in, and in fact by the time we had grabbed ourselves a beer, the weather had settled temporarily and we could sit outside. We had a great evening of chat, briefly running into Mr Gareth and Mr Nick V (again!) and also a few of Dr Goo's friends & acquaintances, but mostly just hogging our table and talking like it's going out of style. We left early owing to Dave's huge work committments, but that was kind of good, because things were just starting to get a bit too crowded and "scene"y. I'm glad we made a break for it before the queenie twinks on pills started swamping the joint. Oh and it turns out Dr Goo ALSO works within five minutes of me! Just like Adrian... I'm suspecting the producers of the Truman-Show-esque Reality TV Show that is 'The Life Of Munkey' have decided it will be interesting to plant all my online friends within absurdly coincidental proximity!
*suspicious-of-the-cameras-behind-the-mirrors munkey*

On Good Friday, I found my way to the city by tram for the first time... I live a 15 minute tram ride from Flinders Street Station! hurrah! There I was to meet Mr Adam M (far too many Adams about, and far too many of them have made me cry). But there are no tears on the horizon with this particular Adam. We wandered into Degraves St to cure his sleepiness with a very strong coffee, and eggs, bacon, toast etc (whoever thought of the all-day-breakfast deserves a Nobel Prize). We then scurried through the filthy laneways to the marvellous St Jeromes, my favourite haunt, where munkey and Adam spent far too much money on drinks... and chatted about everything and anything, including all the taboos: politics, religion and sex. Even astrophysics and molecular biology were on the menu... interesting, considering they're topics on which our knowledge is scant to say the least.

Saturday - while Jesus was out to it - was patermunkey's birthday! Hurrah and Happy Birthday to Daddy. Oli drove me to my auntie Ms Sheila's house where I caught up with Gradmas Ashton & Miller, Cousin Mark and his partner Annie (3 weeks to go!) and Cousin Glenn. Great to see them, and get drunk with them again *bingeing-at-the-expense-of-others munkey*. Goodness, if I ever think my friends are potty-mouthed, I only need to spend a few minutes with those lads. Patermunkey was upbeat and seemed to have a good day, which was great.

I stayed the night in Ms Cait's bed, while she slept on the floor in my old room... her choice, not mine - I would never force my sis out onto the floor! I was woken bright and early by her excitement at having been visited by the Easter Bunny during the night. Indeed Mister Myxamatosis had hidden many little eggs around the place which my enthusiastic sister and the sleepy, myopic Electroboy gathered up... and I took a few for myself as well, before crawling back into bed to nurse my hangover. I was awoken a few hours later by Ms Snazzles wandering into my house... apparently expected by my father, but not by me! Lucky she is used to seeing me dishevelled and semi-conscious, or it would have been rather embarassing. Oh and I'm not sure if I am supposed to make her position within the Aussie TV Pantheon publically known... but she's in the credits of Neighbours now! *cat-out-of-the-bag munkey* YAAAAAY!

On Monday, now an expert at this public transport deal, I played good samaritan / tour guide to a nice Taiwanese man on the tram, before catching up with Mr Jamie for lunch. Jamie is from Tasmania via Geelong, so it was left to munkey to decide on venues. So, predictable munkey led the way to my usual hang-outs... Degraves St for coffee, Hairy Canary for lunch... then we ambled up to unknown territory: QV. I'd never been in there before, but it's quite nice. The hot black waiter and a fellow-patron with Ethan Embry's smile certainly made for pleasant people-watching at the café where we stopped for a beer. But even greater perve-potential was yet to come... at "Brown Sugar" in Block Place. The waiter there is one of the finest specimens of young-manhood I have ever encountered ~ like River Phoenix walked again.

On Monday evening, I was joined by the irrepressible Ladies Of Glam, Ms Snazzles and Madame Mu for pizza, booze and X-Factor. I'd never seen it before, but since they both work at Grundy TV now, it's kind of expected that they know what's happening. So as a completely inexperienced viewer I have to say that I don't think the producers have the same definition of "X-Factor" that I do. Thom Yorke has X-Factor. Björk has X-Factor. Bowie, Ramone, Lennon and Dylan have X-Factor. The boy at "Brown Sugar" has X-Factor. A generic boyband, a bunch of atonal hippie-chicks etc etc do not. And flu or no flu, Janie is a skank. So there. *self-imortant-know-all munkey*

And on the general subject of charisma and attractiveness... with regard to Brown Sugar boy, it's all good to look and gaze and imagine while sipping a gin and tonic... but really - piercing blue-eyes, funky golden hair and a damn fit body can only hold your interest for so long. Give me a big heart, a lively mind and a warm smile... and who really cares what kind of body it's wrapped in? If it can breathe and be warm and cuddle me - and not rip out my heart and stomp it into the dust - I'll be a happy boi *unsuspectingly-developing-a-crush munkey*

On that thought, I shall leave you, lovers and dreamers. You can be assured I shall come sprinting verily from the plains of Marathon with any pertinent news. Remember to grasp every moment you have, and clutch it to your bosom like a tender, newborn babe.

Mr Disease-Ridden-Rodentine-Annual-Bringer-Of-Chocolate has X-Factor. Do you?



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