Poor, tired and bruised.
That’s what’ll happen to you after a weekend in Melbourne.
Mel had been hassling me for a few weeks now to come down and given the various things I have planned for later this year I didn’t think I could afford to go down. But at the last minute (ie. 2 and a half hours in advance) I booked a flight down for Thursday night.
The weekend ended up going something like this: Hang out, drink, eat, sleep, eat, drink, hang out, eat, see Lungs + Paper Arms, sleep, eat, hang out, drink, watch Cop Out (on giant bean bags!!), eat, drink, see Anchors + Ride The Tiger, sleep, eat, drink, catch up with Mel Morris and her pals for a BBQ, hang out, drink, watch Gun Runners and Old Music for Old People, drink, fall asleep somewhere in the middle of Carlton, go to Lu’s and pass out, have Lu wake me up because my alarm went off and only managed to wake her up, run to tram stop, make way to airport, fly home.