Trysting Fields

Stuff I Did This Year

In a nutshell: systematically climbed the fuck out of hell. Again. (See previously: 2005; 2007; 2009.)

And it's good! Can't complain.

:)

"Friends - you know who you are; you know we're grateful." - Blur, 1993. (Seriously. If ever a year was about Who Your Real Friends Are, it was 2011.)

Similarly, those who have fucked me up and fucked me over this year most likely know who they are also, and possibly how I feel about this (hint: angry, bewildered and sad) - with the possible exception of the Rt Hon Lord Mayor of Melbourne Robert Doyle (note contact details), who I strongly suspect does not have any idea who I am.

(I also doubt he reads this blog. But since it just can't be said often enough I might as well take this opportunity to (re)state, for the record: Robert Doyle, you're a fucking cunt. You really are.)

The bulk of this year's SIDTY post I rendered in audio format at the coast a few nights ago. It goes into a bit more detail (although, to be honest, not all that much). Enjoy:

Vale 2011. Viva 2012.

Happy new year!

~ Occuparty ~

Saturday, 17th December.

Obligatory Birthday Party Post

Saturday, 24th September.

An epic time was, needless to say, had.

The Patrick Porter award for the best present and best guest overall goes to Kirrily. The prize for the most perverse guests goes to the Keith! Party crew - comprising on this occasion Talkshow Boy, 2-SHEE, Hot God, Gezus and entourage including Ms C. C*ulter (alias unknown) - who turned up unfashionably early, immediately occupied what would normally be the dancing room and systematically set about turning it into a chillout room. WTF. (NB: And it was *great*.)

Prize for the most long-lost-but-pleasingly-now-seemingly-regained former CH party regular goes to Vicwie. Prize for the best guest who wasn't able to attend physically but who came in essence goes, as always, to Wads. Prize for the best autographed copy of Kafka's "Metamorphosis" and best Tasweigan mafia attaché goes to Doktor Midnight aka The Dan Cross Revolution. Prize for the best drug by almost universal consensus goes to nitrous oxide.

Prize for the most gobsmacking act of delusionality - not to mention the most concerted but nevertheless pathetically unsuccessful attempt to ruin a birthday party of mine in the history of the world - goes to the profoundly fucked in the head disappointing Ms G. Rouse. Prize for the most departing housemate of three years goes to Grim$ha.

Prize for the most heroically tenacious still-recovering-from-her-own-birthday-shenanigan-the-previous-night attendee and all-round best MC-Ren-would-you-please-give-your-testimony-to-the-jury-about-this-fucked-up-incident regaliousness goes to Toots.

Special award for the mouthiest ho goes, as it generally does, to Kat (see audio, below).

Extra special thanks to, y'know, everyone else. Seriously.

(Previously; previously; previously.)

Surprise SRC Gathering

Wednesday 12th May.

After Going-Away Cocktails

At CH late last week with Kav (lurking), Petts, and the artist henceforward known as Lady GrimGrim. (Whose birthday it is today, incidentally. Happy birthday!)

Okay, I'm off to Thailand. :)

SRC Xmas Party

17th December.

Vale SRC. I'm gonna miss you hugely in some ways; in other ways not so much. I'll certainly miss your Xmas parties. Or maybe I'll just crash them.

The following was captured at Harrie & Atkins' house, at some point quite far into the 17-odd hours' worth of extended shenanigans.

Messy night; messy audio. But I like it.

(Previously.)

New York (Four)

With D.