Avant garde, no?

Ostensibly, I was in Melbourne for the purposes of an akward [redacted]. Awkward in that everyone in the [redacted] is around 20 years older than me. Except for the [redacted] who's only around 7 years older.

Anyway, I figured as long as I was going to be walking around Melbourne like a fag without a car, I might as well make some money on the side - and what with Orville back in town, I suddenly had [redacted]

But, it was a bust. A total and complete bust. A painful, painful bust.

But the [redacted] was okay.

Like I said, I figured it'd be fucking awkward. But, as it turned out, the [redacted] was also going to be in attendance, and as it turned out, my counterpart there was just like me. We talked [redacted] talk and other talk and it was cool.

Anyway, you might have noticed that I'm typing incredibly coherently for a drunk.

This is because I am compensating by slowly falling off my Youth Hostel internet cafe chair. Classy, no?

I had a lot of trouble finding this damn place. Stupid fucking broken down car.

Though, as it turned out, traffic was allegedly hellish coming into Melbourne due to massive columns of fire and explosions from a tanker crash.

Anyway, I didn't really have any clue as to where I was going - but whenever I'm in Melbourne (and I'm lost - which I always am) I find that just walking in the general direction does the trick.

And then... etc. etc. etc. Goood Night!

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