flipsides

I was lucky enough to tie up a friend in rope for her parade outfit. A lovely white rope corset over her black outfit.
And then I served peanut butter and honey sandwiches cut into quarters to her and her scout boy butch.

We took photos of them with their bike on the street and all the neighbours came out into the sunshine. Dykes and poofs from every direction. Another couple of friends down the street, one with her own bike, also ready to ride off.
And then they rode off and it was over and the street was empty and quiet and suburban again.

We decided at the last minute to watch the parade, so taxied off, collecting Mr L on the way (a smart move as he plied us with vodka based drink and so much witty commentary. Bless)
Probably not the most awesome idea as Mr M is now home with a chest infection. Curse those cool night breezes.

Wandered through the post apocalyptic landscape that was Flinders post parade to find a strange alternative party.
From the entry queue with added fish smell from the restaurant next door, to the jarring echoey sound bouncing back off the walls, and the squeezy strange spaces, we decided to call it an early night.

Gurlesque was all sorts of wonderful. From the out of town eye-candy to the seating with a view of the stage, and the fantastic boi strippers. Pity I drank full strength not light though. I have a feeling I could've done better not being so fractured and talkative and loud. Aah well.

Todays picnic was a delight of sunshine and dogs and so many of my favourite people. The Zen-pup was much better behaved than I thought she'd be. Pity our evil plans for scaring people didn't come to fruition.

Now to get ready for work tomorrow. Where all manner of political intrigue awaits me. What strange decisions will the management have made in my absence today? Do I really want to know? *sighs* I hate this post party smack in the guts by reality.