Trysting Fields

Dinner Party V

Saturday 17th July.

Most fiasco-tastic DP evar! It's been a bit like that lately. I almost gave up and cancelled it. But I'm very glad I didn't, coz despite all kinds of stupid problems in the end it still went OFF.

(10:21pm; 4min 59sec)

Amongst other things, the DPP planning committee encountered considerable guestlist difficulty. Despite and at least partly because of no less than three date changes aimed at accommodating them all and genuine enthusiasm from at least some quarters, exactly none of the invitees I'd originally lined up ultimately managed to make it.

(10:55pm; 1min 17sec)

Which might have been considered a fairly abject fail - were it not for the inspiringly circus-saving company of previous-attendee legends who, in flagrant violation of DPP rules, valiantly braved the cold and brought the awse instead: Matt K (DPs I and III), Twyllan (DP II), Henley (DP III), Sarah aka The Major (DP IV), Pablo (DPP virgin), Luke (DP IV), and of course Grimsey (DPs I, II, III and IV). Fucken <3.

(12:24am; 4min 28sec)

It was an unprecedentedly structured DP. As per a preestablished order of proceedings there was soup, then salad, then pie, then the merciless destruction and defilement of an old chair that had unforgiveably given way under DP I alumnus Bourkie at CH the night before. Then, naturally, there were muffins.

(1:16am; 2min 26sec)

Along the way there were tears (not really); there was laughter. It was epic.

(2:34am; 2min 49sec)

:)

Dinner Party III

Friday 12th February.

Starring Henley & Adele; 2003 (who will not, contrary to earlier threats, be forever after known as "Porcha") & Danny (sans promised cheese platter, but I just can't stay mad at the guy); Lady GrimGrim & Jacqui; the fantastic Mr Kav; the ex-operative formerly known as Li Han, Blog Boy From Space (who hopefully won't object to me linking him old-school like that - because although Exaggerating Rumours is now four years old and obviously he's grown as a person since then etc blah blah, it's still genius which deserves wider exposure) - and of course Toots, who opted to turn up after everyone except Kav had gone home, because that is the way she motherfucking rolls.

Fair to say, went OFF.

No obligatory formula picture of everyone in the back garden, because for whatever reason (quite possibly because it's the way they motherfucking roll), the guests all opted to stay inside this time - a trend that, with the encroachment of winter, we were going to have to adapt to sooner or later anyway. But there's these ones.

In contrast to last time, when I accidentally deleted the audio directly after recording it, we successfully captured over sixty minutes of vox, much of it gold. Unfortunately that means I'm having a really hard time choosing clips. Maybe I'll put some up retrospectively & link back to it in a later post. We'll see.

In other news: if you happen to be in the region of the Abbotsford Convent at any point over the next week, I strongly advocate checking out the Prismatic Audit currently being undertaken there by Torie Nimmervoll & intended DP III invitee (and amazing genius) Jason Maling (who couldn't come, because he was too busy getting ready for the Prismatic Audit. That's okay, we'll get him next time).

I did today; it was great. I came home exhausted and collapsed at 6:30pm into some of the weirdest and most awesome dreams I've had in months. Now it's 2:30am and I'm blearly eating a pizza at Bimbo. But that's beside the point.

Where was I? Oh yeah; I'm starting school on Monday, which will be well weird. But before that I'm off to a quasi-hippy festival in a field near Schnozzie's hometown.

There will most likely be bloggage about both of these things. Until then: stay in the groove. Or, y'know, don't. It's Entirely Up To You (tm)! See if I care, blog readers. SEE IF I GIVE A FUCK.

:)

(Previously; previouslyer.)

Stuff I Did This Year

This year was all about recovery. It started out in the absolute pits of hell, slowly got better, and - a few ickle problems here and there aside, but whatcha gonna do - ended all up in unmitigated gnarley.

Result.

As per last year I feel more like talking about people than doings or accomplishments. Specifically, and without wanting to get too gushy, all the people who've helped me in all their various ways to remember what love, awesomeness and the whole circus generally is about. Really forgot for a while there. Fucken' sucked.

So couldn't have done it without yiz.

Thanks. Seriously.

• Mum, Dad & Jess.
• Ben.
• Despite - and partly because of - some serious difficulties, Liv (and co).
• Henley.
• On an obscure tip: Martha, Dolly, Magnus, Tim, my secret admirer, and the other Barn*by Ev*ns on Facebook.
• Li.
• Nada A.
• Nada Z (nb not technically a person, but we'll let it slide).
• Em & co.
• Kav. Georgie. Twyllan. Kinkel. Vicwie. Sims. Brendan. Zanella. The Major. Freedman. 2003 & co. And all the countless other people at/from my thankfully now-former work who are fucking awesome. But most especially them.
• Relatedly: motorscooting Keith! Party and associates - most especially Bourkie, and Carol. We don't really know Trajstman yet - but you may rest assured we intend to.
• Cel.
• Freakley.
• Mr Ad*m F*rd (not the poet), and Mr D. Allan.
• Grimsey.
• Gab, obvs, and associates not previously mentioned, especially Pets & Dech (+ Scott, Ewan, Chirsp etc etc etc).
• And last, but the exact opposite of least: Ms M. F. "prog081" Evans and associates, esp. Kat, Hayley, Fran & co, Ange & Chloe.

The admittedly sometimes finite limitations of my resources notwithstanding, these people can - at any time, and to whatever extent they may deem necessary and/or desirable - stand the fuck under my umbrella.

I'd also like to extend a really colossal, biblical-epic-stylez "fuck you" to one or two other individuals whose selfish, infantile cuntishness and astonishing lack of Vision (tm), conversely, reeeallly hasn't helped. Anyone. But I won't. It won't help. We can only have faith that in time they will grow the hearts, brains, spines and souls they surprisingly appear to lack.

Having A Soul: It's Good.

:)

Happy new year.

Day After G's Birthday

13th December.

"I feel a bit like I'm on drugs but I'm not." - me, on CC's status

Smoko

28th-29th November.

Cheers Atkins (and Coulter - who told me to go, so I did).

:)

Happy Birthday Liv

:)

Keep on purveying that awesomeness.

Shed Party / Coburg's

Things To Be Thankful For (Five)

Bitches who know how to treat their slaves right.

One such ultrastar of an individual graced Chez Hagakure's now-vacant second bedroom last weekend whilst on an all-too-brief-and-rare visit to Teh Melbourne.

It was, as always, a total & unmitigated pleasure to accommodate her.

(Previously.)

Things To Be Thankful For (Three)

Schnozzie.

Our relationship (whatever it is) has always been problematic and remains so in some ways. But then the best ones often are.

She's worth whatever effort she costs me. And dog knows, she more than matches me on my investment. I wish I could do a better job sometimes of making her understand how much I value and care about her.

She's has been a huge force for awesomeness in my life this year. She's a legend and I fucking love her.

Really do.

(Previously, previously, previously, previously, previously, previously, previously, previously, previously, previously.)

Things To Be Thankful For (Two)

Dinner parties of awesome.

And everything and everyone associated with such occasions.

Also: punching bags.

Things To Be Thankful For (One)

Teapots.

Toots gave me one of these the other day as a sort of post-birthday present, beautifully wrapped in a lovely box with two boxes of tea.

It's one of those things I've wanted for ages and ages but somehow never quite gotten around to acquiring.

Thanks, sis.

Presents I Got Given

As requested. (Previously.)

• A tin of bacon & egg-themed bandaids in assorted shapes & sizes
• Some plastic flies
• A copy of Mr Nonsense
• A spliff
• A packet of Starburst Babies
• A box of hot cinnamon gum bearing the legend "OH GOD I AM SO TOTALLY WASTED" (the preceding six items all from Patrick. Frikken legend; I only gave him a - y'know, nicely wrapped - lemon from my lemon tree and made him a card for his birthday.)
• A packet of Marlboro Menthols
• A bottle of cabernet merlot
• Two sticks of Kinder chocolate
• A tin of wasabi peas (mmm, wasabi peas)
• A glass bubble with bubbles in it costing $8.75 (heh, bubbles)
• A pair of new shoes (which I desperately needed)
• The perfect bedside lamp (beautifully inscribed)
• A blindfolded trip to the Werribee Open Range Zoo - and a lovely picnic and a lovely dinner gathering - with assorted awesome peeps, from a chick who likes animals
• An M2M CD of mysterious provenance
• A photo of a train passing through rural surrounds at night that only one other person apart from the person who sent it to me has seen
• A four-and-a-half minute voicemail that I will keep for ever and ever
• 60% of an iPhone paid off over two years (which I haven't actually picked up yet, because I don't want it to be cursed by association with the world of shit that was the apocalyptic writeoff week I've just had)
• Several very nice cards
• A bottle of black nailpolish
• Another bottle of black nailpolish

These last two items are particularly timely & appreciated.

Birthday

It's certainly been a memorable one. I liked it much better than last year's.

Prize for the best party guest overall goes to Patrick. Prize for the most liable for nothing party guest is a three-way tie between Shane, The Sorcha, and, of course, Coburg.

Prize for the best party guest who wasn't there physically but came in essence goes to Wads. Prize for the most missed party absentee is a tie between Em and this chick. Prize for the best party guest who did attend physically, but who I unfortunately never actually got around to talking to is a three-way tie between Li, Kav, and The Major. Prize for the best (if maybe in hindsight somewhat regrettable) picture of a My Little Cthulhu Bunny goes to Magnus.

Prize for the most devastating headfuckery goes to my housemate & ex-fiancee. Prize for the most comically hypocritical abusive emails goes to Henley. Prize for the most awesome drunken deep & meaningful alleyway convo goes to Liv. I'm not sure what exactly to award the artist formerly known as Semi, but I suspect he deserves a prize of some kind - or that if he doesn't now, he may well before too long.

Prize for the most broken nose goes to Luke. Prize for the most blood cheerfully & unsolicitedly cleaned up as a result of a broken nose goes to Harrie. Prize for the driest one-liners (always) and best wildlife photography goes to Ramm. Prize for the best shisha lesson goes to Nichk. Prize for the heterosexual male with the most sophisticated understanding of little girls' pop music (and also the special award for getting locked in the enclosed garden off my bedroom by a psycho chick person I'm sure is lovely once you get to know her, and then being too wasted to think of calling someone to let him out) goes to Grimsey.

Prize for the best nail-painting (and best former housemate ever) goes to Cel. Prize for the best hungover breakfast-making and tidying up goes to Kat. Prize for the oldest and most enduring friend goes to Tally. Prize for the best anonymous benefactor goes to whoever sent me the copy of M2M's second album I found in my mailbox yesterday.

Prize for the best present (y'know, apart from causing me to be born in the first place and shit) goes to my parents.

Prize for the best sister in the entire fucking world bar none goes to this bitch.

Prize for the best mistress - and inexpressible amounts of gratitude & love - goes to Schnozzie.

Thanks, everyone.

Interlude: Possibly Too Much - Possibly Not Enough

Chez Hagakure G&T Sock Swap

With Liv.

(Previously; previously.)

Chez Hagakure Tea & Pizza Shapes Meet

Starring this chick.

(Previously; previously; previously; previously; previously; elsewhere.)

Most Fucked Up Easter Ever (Y'know, In A Good Way)

So there I was, attending an uncivilised picnic in the park on Royal Parade, having a perfectly nice time & minding my own and a select handful of other peoples' business when who should call me completely out of nowhere on my - which is to say, someone else's - mobile telephony device but the J-meister.

(Previously.)

We hadn't spoken in the voice since November, when I drunkenly and unsolicitedly facilitated her and Henley's first ever verbal exchange. She's been in the country three weeks, apparently. Now she & the H-Dogg were in my hood. And they wanted to hang.

Headfuck!

The tone of her voice didn't make me feel like something she'd just scraped off her shoe, which was nice. So, throwing caution to the wind as I am wont to do on occasion, I went.

We met at Alia. We talked. We danced. A good time was had. It seems like we're all friends now. Which is totally what I wanted, although if you'd asked me twelve hours ago I'd have said this outcome seemed less likely than [insert comedy incredibly unlikely occurrence which in practice will never ever happen here]. They're totally coming to my housewarming and shit.

I don't know what else to say about all of this, but if ever something seemed blogworthy etc.

Hooray for drugs; hooray for Jebus.

Despite my cynicism regarding his religion(s), I am a fan of the man's work. That cunt was liable for nothing.

In Other News

I love my sister, so much.

Liv & Gab Done Got Blogs

Go read them. I got nothin'. Except an interminably unclearable email backlog. (Plus ca change etc.)

And, I guess, the news that after two years of global trekkage, an older, worldly-wiser Toots aka babysis is coming home today! To my home (ie Melbourne)!

Can you say "I'm fucking excited"? Coz I surely can.

Rainbow Serpent (Part 2)

I'm Back

It was pretty fucking good. (As in "That's a pretty fucking good milkshake.")

Thanks to Major G, the Rainbow Serpent undercover vibe police, and most especially a man named Thad.

More will be said once I have fully regained the power of speech, and also my computer. Which I still don't have. Still.

So don't even care right now!

Happy New Year

Welcome to 2008!

We're lost, but unconcerned.

It's working out surprisingly well so far.

Requests are being taken, and may be directed to the usual address.

Irene

Happy Birthday Again, Toots

(Previously.)

Actually, I get the feeling you'd deck me for calling you "toots". ("Mistress"?)

Even though I do not know you, etc.

Yeah, Y'know? It's Wednesday & I Needed Something To Post About etc

(It is All About The Blog[*].)

I was also feeling a bit stinky and jaded about people including but not limited to myself, and for both of these reasons it was all quite serendipitous and I-heart-the-universe that a much beloved friend chose yesterday to give me a semi-random present which - although a relatively small thing in itself - was both a :)-inducing gesture, and well-novel and blogworthy and shit.

It's a pocket edition of Twister in the form of a little plastic box, with the spinner on the front and the dots - which are about the size of fifty-cent coins - stashed in a sliding drawer underneath. It conveniently doubles as a keyring.

(Unfortunately I've now, almost immediately, gone and lost it. So I can't post a picture like I was planning to. I have to make do with words, which is unfortunate coz I'm kind of over them. But so it goes.)

It's not very practical. If you wanted to play, you'd also have to be carrying some kind of adhesive to fix the tiny dots in place on the ground, or wherever. It's hard to see the whole thing working out. But that doesn't matter.

Without wanting to go into benevolence overload and make everybody throw up: hooray for semi-random presents, and those rare people who bring us nothing but goodness generally. Yay for things that make us happy. Even if only passingly so in some cases.

Life is transitory. Yes it is.

In other news, my jury selection hearing today went well, in the sense that as chance would have it I was not selected to serve on an actual jury.

In a way I was disappointed; it might have been an interesting experience. But I can't really afford the time off work. Stupid needing money to live etc.

Now I am going to bed, because between one thing and another I'm so sleep deprived that I'm starting to hallucinate.

Good night.

[*] NB It's so not really All About The Blog[**].

[**] Although I do love my blog.

I'd Like To Thank The Academy

And also:

• Ms Emma S. White (so much)
• Ms Danielle "Macenaeas" Freakley (as well, but in a different way)
• Ms Jessica H. etc Kilby (as in "Jessica H. Kilby, what are you doing to me woman" etc)
• Mr Jaye de Koan nee ~ nee Eric Wouters (I don't know what it is that you do exactly - but you're really good at it, and you should definitely keep doing it. IMHO. PS Do not join the army.)
• The Artist Formerly Known As Robert Henley
• Nads
• Ms Megan Faith Motorscooting Evans

Honourable mentions:

• Semi / Robin
• Ads (see Jaye de Koan)
• Li (ditto)
• Ben (as well)
• Dozza
• Rick / American Guy
• Ev
• Jessica K. Reftel Evans
• Martha, somehow
• Dave, also
• Avery Cardoza (in some obscure way; we have at least three quite significant things in common, anyways)
• The Veronicas
• Els
• and, why not, Anna Pearson (we got messy together when she was just a little kiddy, apparently)

And last but not least, my mum. Thanks for having me, etc. I appreciate it.

And various other people.

You are all - in your assorted different ways - special to me, and I love yiz. For whatever it's worth.

That is all.

PS Interview went well.

Time Machine Fuel

The artist, gentleman & scholar formerly known as Semi/Dirty Kant/Rorschach gave me - perfectly - a time machine for my birthday.

I was touched. But I have not, as yet, been able to use it. Appropriate fuel is required, lest dire consequences etc:

So, continuing a long and bizarrely successful TF tradition, I hereby formally call for time machine fuel; ideally an ongoing source thereof.

Successful respondents will be escalently awarded.

The World Is Everlasting

It's coming and it's going.

The dirtballs in your pockets and take off both your shoes, etc.

:)

What I Got For Christmas

Yemeni coffee, British cigarettes and Cuban white rum

Jellybeans & chocolate

Facial care products

Art

A scarf

A yoyo

A flipbook

Amongst other things.

Vale Tript

*tips hat*

Sad day.

In other news, thank you to the anonymous person who ingeniously sent me this in a way I couldn't respond to:

If you are who I think you are - you're funny. And if I don't know you, that's even funnier.

Tell me - do you get curiously predictable headaches and phantom mice in your bed at 4am, too?

If You're Happy And You Know It

Or alternately, if you're miserable and you know it - and it's just no good at all...

CLAP. YOUR. HANDS.

CLAP! CLAP!

If you're happy and you know it,
And you really wanna show it,
If you're happy and you know it... clap your hands!

CLAP! CLAP!

I feel better already.

Despite - he said, by way of explanation - the depressing fact that I have failed.

I am A Failure; one who has failed. That is What I Am.

CLAP! CLAP!

It's the last day of November. And despite my best intentions, I have failed to write a 50,000-word novel.

I gave it a good old Aussie go, though. Really, truly did!

But I didn't write 50,000 words - and I didn't finish it. And it's dead now. It doesn't want to be worked on any more. It has become a stinky moribund dead project that pains me and makes me annoyed at myself. And it's bad when you annoy yourself.

Winces, girds loins, drives a stake through its beloved heart.

It's dead. RIP, first attempt at writing a novel.

The silver lining is, I'm actually well pleased with the 37,566 words I did write. They came out great.

CLAP! CLAP!

Which was really the problem. They were too good. Consequently, somewhere along the line, I forgot to not take myself seriously. Which is the whole big-thing point of NaNoWriMo. You can write a stupid 50,000 word novel in a month. But unless you are a bona fide literary genius, you can't write a good one. Forget about it.

I'm tempted to quote Alanis Morrisette at this juncture. But for everyone's sake, I shall abstain.

The point is: I'm, like, trying to be philosophical and shit. I feel pain now, but I know the venture was far from a dead loss. In the end, I got more out of it than I would have if I hadn't undertaken it. And in any case, I've lost nothing. Just a ride. Etcetera.

CLAP! CLAP!

In other shittiness news, nobody but a handful of stalwarts - it seems - can come to our party.

Again, I don't feel too bad about it. It's getting towards That Time Of Year; everybody has lots of prior engagements. A bunch of people came to the last one - and most if not all appeared to genuinely have a good time. So it's not like this is a sign that all our friends secretly hate our guts, or think our parties suck.

CLAP! CLAP!

Finally, congratulations are in order to Mr Tripto Deluxe, who jumped on board my NaNo bandwagon and then kicked my ass right off the damn thing by actually finishing his book.

Kudos to you, my friend. Kudos to you. No, I wouldn't come to my party either. You have better things to do. Course you do. We're not really going to kill you. That was totally, like, an empty threat. Course it was.

Love your work.

CLAP! CLAP!

Oh, man - that's the shit, right there.

CLAP! CLAP!

Oh yeah. Oh yeah.

CLAP! CLAP!

Excuse me, I have to be alone with my hands for a while.

Man, I Just, Like, Voted

I wasn't planning to originally, but Semi talked me into it on the grounds that the Greens will likely take some seats away from serious politicians, which is always a good cause. I hope he is having fun at Earthcore. I imagine that he is.

I just voted for the Greens whilst tripping on leftover cactus, partly in his honor. I'm sure Bob Brown (with whom I once shared a taxi, whilst dressed as a giant koala - i'm sure it wasn't just a dream) would not disapprove. I tried to imagine what John Howard would feel. I tried to imagine him feeling pain in some way. How I tried. But all I could see was him going "stupid hippies; ah well, *shrugs*, they will all self-destruct soon enough anyway", and not understanding at all. Which kind of pissed me off, but did at least make me feel like, in some obscure way, I had not done entirely the wrong thing.

Now I am trying to decide whether to watch The Dark Crystal again. I fell asleep before the end last time.

~ has suggested to me that the girl Gelfling ultimately dies; but I feel sure that this cannot be the whole truth. Henson and Oz would not do that to me. They would not dare.

I will watch their silly movie, in any case. They can bring it. Doesn't matter if the chick dies; the whole healed-crystal thing redundifies such petty concerns.

Yes, it does.

Life Is Good

nb clever peripheral utilization may or may not reveal secret hidden messages

Life is good.

Sculpture

~ made this for me last night; I found it sitting on my speaker upon reluctantly emerging from bed at around midday.

He's very creative.

Don't Y'all Be Looking So Smug Now

Did Lady J send you this picture?

Did she then give you permission to post said picture to your blog?

No?

Be grateful that I am so generously inclined to share.

(Sometimes.)

What I Got For My Birthday

A can of whoop-ass Hagakure style yo Easy Surface Prep

A Discombobulator of my very own

Two bottles of apparently non-lethal Red Bull concentrate

Two bottles of Arrogant Frog sauvignon blanc

Two delicious, beautifully wrapped and generally special cupcakes (not shown)

Colourful and appealing multimedia art products

A hefty biography of John Fowles, bafflingly enough

A black 30 gigabyte iPod, which was nice

A Brave New World mug

Cards & chocolate

Amongst other things.

Thanks everyone. It was great!

~'s Mother Bought A Cow

So now our freezer is full of frozen cow.

She also gave us some duck eggs.

I boiled one and had it for breakfast.

It was well tasty.

I Wouldn't Normally Do This Kind Of Thing

But I just sent Robert Anton Wilson $23, because Douglas Rushkoff told me to.

Fnord knows, he's fucking earned it as far as I'm concerned.

Dreams Come True

Dear Billie,

I don't know if you're familiar with my Amazon wishlist. But if you are, you'll know that I've lately been looking to reacquire your first album, which I originally bought - much to my girlfriend at the time's disgust and bemusement - from the Tottenham Court Road Virgin Megastore shortly after it came out in 1998.

It was an indulgent, impulsive and kind of silly purchase.

I'd thought Because We Want To was a brilliant, stunning, classic, etc pop song. (And the way everyone just instinctively knew, well in advance of its release, that it was going to go in at number one and dethrone #$&% Three Lions '98 was a thing of beauty.)

But, y'know, I'd listened to most of your record on listening posts, and didn't actually even think it was really all that great.

I was basically a snobby indie kid. And besides, I didn't like you as much as B*Witched (whose LP, conversely, was the fucking bomb - and could legitimately be said to have changed my life, in a subtle kind of way).

But there was just Something About You. The way you stared piercingly out of the sleeve from under your hair, a paragon of innocent knowingery; and the matching combination you displayed in interviews of unquestionably genuine irrepressible-15-year-old-witnessing-all-her-dreams-coming-true wonderment and an equally unfakeable worldly-wise, seen-it-all intelligence. (And your tits. I liked your tits, also.)

You were just too cool.

And, hey, there were some nice songs on there. I Dream I'm Dancing remains a staple to this day. Honey To The Bee. Couple of good songs.

Sadly, that copy was stolen along with almost all my other CDs a few years later. Somehow, inexplicably, yours felt like one of the ones I was most gutted to lose, even though I could only ever have played it all the way through maybe five or six times.

Flash forward half a decade or so to a couple months ago and I'm watching an early episode of the excellent new series of Dr Who. And I suddenly decide that I want it back. You can't get all the tracks online anymore. I put it on my wishlist.

Late last week, finalising my previous eBay CD purchase, it occurs to me to search for it, and I find a copy - of the original UK release, with Because We Want To and Girlfriend tracked first, as it should be (although, you know, the US order works, too) - going for 99p, no bids, expiring in four hours. I grab it.

Today it arrived, extraordinarily quickly. I was really thrilled; much more so than I expected to be.

So I bring it inside, and whilst ripping it to the eMac, idly pull your Wikipedia page.

Try to imagine my surprise and delight as my eyes are scanning the opening line of the entry and relay to my brain the hitherto un(consciously)known fact that today is your birthday!

Happy 24th, Billie. Hope you're having a great one.

Love your work.

Very best wishes,

Teigan

Mysterious Postal Benevolence

This arrived yesterday from a mail-order DVD retailer in South Australia, with no message save for a 'Happy Birthday' appended to my name on the address label:

Apart from a few relatives who'd be very, very unlikely to anonymously send me Harmony Korine movies, I don't really know anyone in South Australia.

Anyway - whoever you are (if you're reading), thank you so much! As a present, no other widely-available DVD could please me more.

Stoked.

More Postal Benevolence

Surprised & delighted was I to take delivery of this package today.

My birthday isn't till the 14th (yes, as it happens I do have an Amazon wishlist), but I thought it would be alright to open the large bottles now, being pretty sure I already knew what they were:

Thanks, toots! You rock. (Have a good flight.)