ROAD TRIP - South of the Border, Pt. IIb

All Aboard! Tickets Please!

Trams are cool. Like, really cool. Like, cooler than lighthouses. Lighthouses. Oh yeah.

I don't know who invented the hook turn but, when perfectly executed, my God they're beautiful. RIDE THE RED!

Melbourne's a pretty city - walking along the Yarra is tremendously good for the soul.

It's hard to explain scenery, but trust me - this is nice.

Can someone explain to me the Docklands' fascination with pointy-curvy architecture? I only ask 'cause Sofie and I are classy b*tches who notice this sh*t.


Shanghai Village in Little Bourke St. Best. Dumplings. Ever. $15 a head (and that includes the veen-ho. Yay!)

In-Joke Warning: There is charming stalking to be had in Swanston St. No names, no court martials eh, Sofie and cSophie?

I am now one of the faces of Tourism Victoria. Yes, I am that awesome.

Happy Hour in Federation Square - it's like alcoholism with a view.

Cheeeers!

ROAD TRIP - South of the Border, Pt. IIa

Lick Your Lips For Food Porn

Breakfast is a massively exciting meal. Especially when you're Sofie.


There exists in the arcane world of academia a field of pure science known as Breakfast Maths. It's Laws are as follows:

• the Decadence Quota (DQ) of the breakfast is directly related to the time of day at which it is consumed, with the lateness of the hour directly correlating with, and proportional to the pleasure of the meal; based upon this reasoning, breakfast at 11am is roughly equivalent to eating tiramisu with a long spoon
• there is nothing wrong with Breakfast Dessert (BD). Everyone knows that cake is always the answer. And if said Breakfast Dessert cake is fruit-centric then it's a health food. Duh.

BD = awesome! (Please note St. Kilda Beach in the background. Am I all over this cultural, Tourism Australia sh*t or what?)

Max Brenner is a fucking wanker. 'My Journey with Chocolate' - f*ck me gently. However, his chocolate IS quite good.

It's an alternative to coffee, not a Doctoral thesis. Jog on.

ROAD TRIP - South of the Border, Pt. I

Only Sheep Can Cure Fatigue

Let me begin by saying, we'll take pictures of anything. This is an unattractive habit which I blame on the convenience of digital photography. But I digress! If nothing else, the sheer fact that so little of our luggage was in the car with us because I, the Tetris Queen!, managed to pack the boot using basic spatial reasoning, sheer brute force and Jedi mind-meld skills IS photo-worthy

Don't bother with the paternity test - such skill demonstrates I'm my father's daughter

On a road trip, especially one that crosses two states and a territory, and which left several hours late, because Sod's Law demands it to be so, someone always pees in the bush. However, due to Sofie's training in this area - she's a Scout, ppl (this is not a creepy, Internet pay-per-view thing) - means that peeing in the bush no longer means peeing on one's jeans. Throw in the magic of the car having a roll of toilet paper in it - I'm not sure why, we'll call it happy good fortune - no-water hand sanitiser and wipes, and the merriment and good feeling abounded.

For obvious reasons, there's no photo for this vignette, as this is NOT one of those creepy, Internet pay-per-view things. Yet...

When's Sofie's driving, every car's a 4WD. This is exceptionally funny when, at a truck stop, she sets off exploring dirt tracks leading away from civilization in the hope of finding bathrooms. HiLARious. Until you remember it's YOUR car she's driving.

This begs another comment: while some drive it like they stole it, Sofie drives it like it's big. Do NOT tailgate her 'cause that chick has no fear, just a perverse streak. She will block the road, and sit 10K's under the speed limit. I love Sofie.

Sofie is dangerous with the iPod. 90% of our conversation in the car was, and I quote, No, no, no, next, no, no, I LOVE THIS SONG! Ra- Ra- Rasputin! Don't start me on her driving. Again.

I-Spy will end in tears when 'A' is for 'atoms'. However, 'T T L S' being 'twinkle twinkle little star' is charming. On the massively plus side, and handy for you readers who aren't intimately acquainted with us, 'C' is for cSophie, which should make this diatribe a little easier to follow.

The locals at Albury McDonalds WILL look at you like you're fresh meat. You are. Deal.

Should you ever join us on a road trip, do not EVER play 'Guess Who' with cSophie - the girl is a winning machine.

We are honk sluts.

Driving thru Melbourne is best achieved when directions involve the driver 'feeling the vibe'.

ROAD TRIP SOUTH OF THE BORDER

For this process to work, you'll need some background.

In July, my girlfriends and I decided to shrug of the chains of mundane responsibility. Having filed the appropriate paperwork to obtain leave from work, we left our emergency contact details with loved ones, and traveled to Melbourne in the search of AWESOME. We totally found it.

Each post is a collection of random thoughts, grouped thematically. Assume each post covers a single day, and that the three of us think we're much funnier than we actually are.

The main characters are:

• Sofie - my pal, my heart, my big spoon
• cSophie - the awesome Victorian local, and one of the funniest women I know
• MelWuv - your trusted narrator

cSophie, MelWuv, Sofie

You'll be fine.

Apologia

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I apologise for my absence. In April, my fiance and I separated. Having been together for almost 4 years, and having been living together for 3 and a half of those years, this process was heartbreaking.

My divorce, like most, was a period of heartache and intense sadness. Those of you who have been there will understand me when I liken the process to one of being in a really bad car accident everyday for the period of time we were separated but still living under the same roof. This was a time when I was unclassy - there was name calling, threats, and recriminations. These were not proud moments.

However, my former partner and I have now established a relationship that is civil and respectful of the past happiness we shared. Looking back at the difficulties of our separation, I'm proud that we could create this.

At this time, I would like to state my intention to return to regular blogging. I hope my occasional fans will understand, and return.

Sincerely,
MelWuv

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?!

I went out on Friday nite, and needed to be 'helped' home - this fella was an absolute GENTLEMAN, and I'd love to thank him properly.

Last seen in St Kilda, Melbourne.

All information gratefully received.

I Won't Tell If You Won't

The Lovely Dave got me thinking - I know, totally new territory for me, rite? - with his post Guilty Little Pleasures (check out the brilliance here) about the things we do just to spite our conscience. Long showers seem to feature prominently. But, as I've noted previously, the trick to brilliance is to wrestle any topic on to the floor, then beat it till it bleeds. Which is how I ended up pondering on several... practices which I enjoy tremendously, but don't really seek an audience for. Okay folks, out of the gutter, and stick with me here.

While long showers are publicly considered to be akin to smacking puppies these days, no one really looks at you askance for indulging. So where is the line crossed? For example, my secret sin is fiddling with, and removing, ingrown hairs. Oh my God, the joy, the sheer relief, the sense of accomplishment that comes from squeezing out an ingrown hair. Disgusting? You betcha! Will I stop doing it in the privacy of my own bathroom? Not f*ckin' likely, son!

Where does guilty pleasure cross the line to secret sin? And if it's not hurting anyone - apart fm my beautician anyway (apparently, my 'helping' is about as much use as a Gideon's Bible in a cathouse) - does it really matter?

C'mon ppl, 'fess up - what do you do when no one's watching?