It's a Bit Late, But Churr For That.

A mass thank you to my boy Teums for taking me to Fat Freddy's Drop on the first night of Spring, in honour of my birthday. Too good. That's the face of a day made!

I Love Those Nights When You Get Home...

into your bedroom, late, and everything is cool.

And you're like - Yessss, base.

Sick On So Many Levels - on Tunes and the Flu.

Everyone knows I love a few sick beats. Here are a couple I found today, as I stuffed around in my little house suffering a cold I managed to pick up over the weekend.

Such a productive day though. My CV is back in order and ready for action, my brain is overflowing with inspiration, new learnings, and ideas that'll promote more interesting writing.

In other news, yesterday I had Andy teach me the rules of cricket so I'm ready for the Boxing Day Test, and also the structures and gameplay of international Rugby ie. the Lions vs Wallabies Tour 2103. I learn so much from that boy... he's like the twin brother I never had. I always felt I should have been a twin - I like having people around too much.

Well we can't change the world

But we sure can change the way we live

We can't only take 

Also got to learn to give

Bonobo, Bajka - Between the Lines 

After the rain comes sun

After the sun comes rain again

After the rain comes sun

After the sun comes rain again...

This must be underwater love

The way I feel it slipping all over me

This must be underwater love

The way I feel it

Smoke City - Underwater Love

Astronautalis - Mr Blessington's Imperialist Plot

Easy Star All-Stars - Paranoid Android

Artichaut - Chinese Man

The Black Seeds - Come To Me

Hypnotic Brass Ensemble - Ballicki Bone

Electric Wire Hustle - They Don't Want

Rudimental - Free ft. Emeli Sandé

Anything by Psychemajik, Koan Sound, and Mr. Little Jeans.

... All, in my humble opinion, four to five star tunes. You can thank me later. Also, just on the off-chance that anyone would like to sponsor me in my quest for tomorrow's most stokey playlist addition, I would be happy to accept - in the form of payment of my increasingly devastating phone bills.

Lastly - I wanted to link to a blog that has really opened my mind in so many areas over the last couple of days. I would move to Texas just to be mentored by this woman. Got time? Head to And Baby Makes 6. Prepare to have your mind blown by a surf-gremlin mother of four, happily married for 20+ years to a rad surfer dude, and who's also crazy about triathlons, duathlons, every kind of push-yourself activity in between, and photography. Did I mention surfing? Yeah they live on the Gulf of Mexico. And she says stoke a LOT. Get on it and froth along to life with her - truly rad stuff.

St Kilda Living... Winter 'Thirteen.

There's a definite sense of satisfaction posting raw, candid shots straight from my camera and other devices - good, bad and ugly - however the global rise of Instagram and it's appy friends is hard to ignore. So I won't... instead I'll show you some of my favourites from this weekend.

Happy birthday Roomie.

Man love.

De-facto File.

Then there are Sunday mornings here - my only guaranteed day off with Ez. We like to do nice things that involve fresh air, juice, exercise, sun, coffee, books, markets and food.

SLOU.

Pier.

Round robin.

St Kilda steeze.

x 2.

x 3.

Clean.

SLOU x 2.

Fitzroy palms.

¿Por qué no sólo tenemos tanto?

So here I sit in my little house, in a very Mexican-like Vila located in the heart of St Kilda. The heater is slightly on, and wind rustles the trees outside my first story lounge-room window; it's gusty and overcast outside, but today alone it has turned progressively rainy and sunny about 5 times over........ I love Melbourne!

Last month marks the two year anniversary of my becoming a Melbournite. Two years is a long time! I have spent much of it fairly dashing about town (and even the rest of the world) doing amazing things... and therefore helping to complete, in real life, the picture I had in my head when I first hit my new lifestyle down here.

Recently...

'Doing the Great Ocean Road' in a beaten up old van with my honey cousin: took a Polaroid story (which now is now proudly displayed on our living room wall), ate porridge cooked on the gas burner at the back of the van, picked through coastal foliage and observed the lighthouse made famous in 'Round the Twist' (blast from the past!), drank wine and smoked cigarettes on camp stools before heading out for dinner in the evenings, learnt about the history of the coast and it's shipwrecks, all the while stopping for coffee and scones at the cute little teahouses peppered along the way.

'Just Popping over to Tasmania' the week before Easter to surprise Mumma Bear for her birthday: which of course didn't end up being a surprise due to my lack of discretion on Facebook. I was more particularly disturbed by the fact the incident occurred one week out from my intended arrival, when I had booked it at least a month in advance, and that one week prior to THAT had drunkenly decided (at an amazing house party) to quit Facebook entirely. Is your brain fried yet? Yep.

Tassie was lovely though... I spent time with Nan and Pa who picked me up from the airport late on Friday night (conversation in the car for that half an hour was surprisingly stimulating, taking into account my state when I left Melbourne), and went out to the farm early Saturday morning to jump on my mumma before she got up. Baby sister was left with dadda, not-so-baby-sister Fran met up with us and out we went for the day.

Devonport was lovely - the new home for my impending franchise of greatness. Did the mouth of the Tamar. Drove halfway to Hobart to meet my old friend Tyce-from-Thredders and paid a vist to the Cider House. Fran's haunt. Then spent an hour in the park to sober up. Nice one.

All in all fun. You wish you were me. I'm like a cheerleader for Life.

Some Steezy Vids.

So it isn't summer by any means down here in St Kilda... but goddam' we just left behind one of the best to date. Anyway, summer's a great segway into some super steezy vids...

Berliner and Berliner

This is fucking ridiculous. This time last year I was three days off boarding my flight HOME FROM Europe, and here I am a year later still trying to flog out my travel recaps. Just do it B - fuck's sake.

19 January '12

Travelling by train is so typically European... I love it and in winter it's an awesome way to get around. Both times I've hit up Europe I've been in possession of a Eurail Pass (this will save you so much cash, but you need to get your hands on it prior to your departure from Australia). My longest single train trip to date was from Amsterdam to Oslo on a 24hr sojourn by sleeper. That was when I was 10, and at the time I didn't realise how remarkable it is that the train gets onto a ferry electronically in order to cross the waters to Norway.

This time was different because I was travelling through Germany by myself and I had to change at a couple of smaller local stations to get the best travelling time. In Germany, they make much less of an effort to accomodate those who don't know the language... I really love this about anywhere I travel to, but I did wig out a little bit when I couldn't find platform 3 with two minutes remaining to change - those trains are immaculately to schedule at all times too. You become a master at sign language and sweet talking big German women - turns out platform 3 didn't exist.

I got to Berlin around 7pm and caught the bus to my hostel. I knew it was the right one because, when the driver couldn't comprehend whether my stop was on his line, I stood up the front and quite shamelessly pronounced the name of my junction very loudly - and with quite the impressive german accent I might add - hoping someone would notice and confirm that the bus was going to go there. One guy did, so job done. I'm not going to lie - I was proud to arrive again unscathed, without a phone or the time.

Hard stuff done! The hostel I had picked was called Circus and was the raddest hostel I've ever stayed in ever. The boy at the desk was a loveheart. And there was a LIFT. Always one to watch out for. Upon entering my dorm, I was pleased to meet two boy roomates - one my age from Sweden, and the other a bit older but from Brisbane. I renamed the Swedish guy Crackfox (affectionately of course), and the guy from Queensland... well, Brisbane (I tend to do this when overseas and with expats).

Two hours later I had accepted a challenge to try every cocktail featured on the menu in the bar downstairs, and together with Martina (London/Italy) and Nick (Utah, USA), we were well on our way to the kind of all-nighter oblivion I'm sure many of you have experienced in Berlin.

That night stays on the camera. You'd have to beat me with a stick to see those photos.

Anyway, the next day we did the obligatory walking tour. I cried twice. It was amazing and I collapsed into bed that night after what I still think was one of the most emotionally charging days of my life. The best things in life are free, right?

I don't know when the boys turned up - all I know is I had three really big nights - topped off by the infamous Berghain. I can't describe it anywhere near as well as this guy did. FUCKING RIDICULOUS.

All too soon it's time I left Berlin (and time YOU went there), on an overnight train bound for Switzerland this time... got on it with an oversized, red-haired Australian boy who was friends of a friend my boys met up with sometime, and who - out of sheer luck - was intending to at least make it to Basil on the same night. I hadn't been looking forward to paying 100 Euros for a private sleeper cabin, and in the end only had to split the bill. Cool how the world works!

Fuck Yes. Serious Froth Material.

Superheroes of Stoke Trailer from MSP Films on Vimeo.

Weekend of the Sister

Fran came over for a fun, goof ball weekend in May (?) and we had such a good time. This is months ago now - actually I was still living out at Ashburton when she came... now I live in St Kilda. This year is FLYING. A lot has changed and I've been very neglectful of my bloggie. I shall finish my Euro Trip series and be back into it again.

Things I Like About The Netherlands Include:

1. Everybody is happy.

2. All the time.

3. You need to go somewhere: you ride your bike. Built like a truck, your Dutch bike will most likely outlive you and your dutch children. Also in Holland there are no hills, requiring minimum effort.

4. Weed. So obvious, it's number 4.

5. Supermarkets/Aldi - all food is ready to go. Typically you go to a supermarket to buy ingredients; here everything is already done. Over 50% of the supermarket is dedicated to pre-made salads, sandwiches and snac- did someone say munchies?

6. Hot Snack Vending Machine Shops. For all the same reasons. You don't know what you're eating - all you know is that it tastes queer and fabulous at the same time, and you want more.

17 Jan, 2012

In addition to severe and delayed jetlag, the fact that I was baked almost the whole time I was visiting Maastricht meant, by the time the clock struck 8:30pm, there was not a thing in this world that could keep me out of bed until approximately the same time the next morning. I am both proud and ashamed to say that, of the three nights I spent in the Netherlands, every one consisted of a solid, unbroken 12-14 hour sleep. Needless to say, like many others before me, I never stumbled upon the elusive and infamous Alah (mostly due to the fact that I didn't try, at all). 

On the rare occasion that I wasn't sleeping, I made trips to Aldi in my pyjamas with Shaggy to buy instant coffee (I basically lived off bread, Nutella and Chocomel this entire time), struggled to make said coffee whilst mistaking the sugar carton for milk and vice versa, felt like an utter bimbo, and went on a free (predominately fictional) walking tour of the city - hosted by Brent.

By the end of the third day, I was like a gypsy with too much coin - I had to be on the move again, doing and seeing as much as my three short weeks would allow. As the boys were content to wait in Maastricht where accommodations were free, and a miscellany of drugs and amusements were at their very beck and call, I decided to embark on my own adventures whilst they lay in wait for Lyndon to catch up to us. So I booked my hostel in Berlin, acquired the help of my cousin in reading my train schedule all in Dutch, and got a swift, jolty ride to the station on the back of a bicycle in a shower of rain. This would be my first true travel across Europe on my own, and it wasn't without a glimmer of apprehension and uneasy that I hugged Brent goodbye and climbed onto my train to Germany.