Summer come soon my sweet

I have a watermelon coloured floral print dress.
Not my usual style, but its glaring at me from its perch on my music stand. Its a promise of blamy nights, picnics up Kings Park, a jug of Pims and all the salt air you can fill your lungs with.
Can't wait to banish these ugg boots.

Behavioural science and the end of the day

Its bad catching a cold from a family member. Its worse catching a bad habit from yourself. Its down right wrong to pick a thread from a jumper, tugging, deforming all those around it. And all this just so the thread can see its place in the weave. Comprimising it all for a glimpse... of truth, or maybe identity....
The right thing is to run blind. Don't break the surface tension and make those rippling precursors to waves. Its even less then that though. It should be effortless not to stir the sentimental sediment. Just shouldn't occur to you all. And i'll speak a little plainer now. Its about being in the present and not even considering where you will be in the future. Not that I'm saying someone couldn't get away with that. They could work out the angels, derive the functions and pin point every piece of matter in history...But I can't, I'm not that good at maths.
Coolibah is no better.
Its ridiculous the way she thinks. 'Person on the bus' opens that tin-can every friday, he should learn to check for expiry dates. Sure I am happy to indulge with a sympathetic ear on the hows and whys of the way. But please ignore my dilated pupils. They are traitors. When it comes down to it, philosophical discussions have less impact on the world than critques of hair straighteners. I really don't have time for any of that.
But Coolibah does.
She would be quite willing to believe the music in her i-pod made those storm clouds. That theres some unspoken flow of things we can control with symbolism. Not that she'll ever speak of this to anyone, I'm not entirely sure she can speak.

something you can't buy anywhere on the net

So... once the Aussie hip-hop failed to provide the bounce I told Coolibah to go drown herself in a suitable billabong.
She of course replied that she would, as soon as I stopped putting on musicals in my bedroom.
We agreed that the only responsible thing to do was to drink all the wine in the fridge (amounted to half a mug) and have a blogger slagging match. Then realised our best insults were part of the gastrointestinal system.
And thats not due to any feat of the imagination. Its just what we were rumaging thru at 8am this morning.
To conclude, we made up, brushed our hair and swapped blod titles.

Something shiny stuck in the cobwebs

My HECS ate my tax refund. If things go well thats a premonition of my future. If things go bad then its proberly the most I'm going to get out of what i put in for a long time to come.
What did you do with your tax money?

Ribbons of Smog

ok