Sex parties, bribing dogs, fridge trophies and other stories

This is a toy. KG decided the mature thing to do would be to fling at me in the dark. Of course.

Keeping KG company during voting proved to be an eye-opening experience.

Jan: Ma, they have a sex party here.

Ma: Don't you dare go to one of those things-!

Jan: It's a political party.

Ma: What?



Lunch at the Brisbane Airport Novotel - long wait, horrendous service, thankfully decent food.

My seafood platter was pretty decent, though no amount of cheese will ever disguise the disgusting oystery-ness of oysters (duly fobbed off to KG).

KG's veal with red wine jus was bee-yoo-ti-full.

A view of the ocean on our little daytrip to the northern end of Brisbane.

The impressive wine collection at Boroughs, a lovely little (though not imaginatively named) cafe/ bar discreetly hidden in Scarborough.

The view from KG's new balcony, enjoyed over garlic prawns, udon noodles and over-celeryfied garden salad.

This is Rosey the Staffie (Staffordshire Bull Terrier), the sort of dog that one cannot possibly not fall in love with (not to mention she fits my Ideal Hugging Dimensions). She rushed up and down in excitement at us guests, dragging the fairly heavy dining chairs around the room (she severely underestimated her own size) in the process.

KG discovered a mini iceberg shaped like a consolation trophy while defrosting the fridge. Of course I had him pose like a proud winner with it. Admittedly, his grin was unconvincingly unconsolatory.

The magpie during our picnic lunch at the Nerang River, showing off his bounty (note worm in beak).

This is Buddy, possibly the most stately dog to ever grace me with his presence. After about 5 times, he's finally decided he doesn't hate me (only because during the fourth meeting, I gave him half a doggy treat).

Behold the symmetry of the paying 'bridge' on The Spit.

SE, my new (and temporary) flatmate had a bit of an incident with her spine, which ended with us rushing her to the hospital for an emergency check up.

I got attacked by a Staffie (not Rosey) at The Spit. RD and I were chatting on the beach and this thing just ran 100m up to me and began scratching and pawing me. I actually bruised and bled in the attack. The owner nonchalantly led the dog away sans apology. Jerk.

At a little inlet off Seaworld Drive. See the tallest buildings in the centre? I'm staying in the architect's room at the moment.

Shiny shield bugs. PW's keen eyesight is amazing. Boo to my lousy Lasik surgery.

Another one on the underside of a leaf.

P/S: Shield bugs release tear-inducing, noxious fumes when provoked. Kind of like organic mace. Don't say I didn't warn you.

The Boob Apron

In lieu of my temporary blogging slowdown, I give you... the Boob Apron.

P/S: LSFW; turn down the volume.

Quiet content calm

Late lunch at the Surfers Paradise Marriott, which has a most agreeable ambiance. The food's pretty average but the adorable armchairs and genial staff more than make up for it.

The plant life in KG's new investment home (the man bought the house next door... he's going to have a hard time stealthing this out with the new tenants) is thriving like crazy. As is the mosquito population.

Love is like a sunset. Byron Beach.

The new sports stadium at Carrara, pre-completion. KG is being a Good Non-Asian Asian Boyfriend, ferrying me to and fro the train stations.

Peacock at Macintosh Island Park (which is not really on an island). The bird life there is flourishing. Geese, ducks, peacocks, the ever-ubiquitous pigeons and seagulls and the odd tit or two. It was nice to finally share it with KG.

Worry about it later

It's been a few hectic and tumultous weeks, hence the lack of updates. Another life changing event in a few weeks, perhaps I will have learnt my lesson then.

Michal and RD and our very burnt barbeque attempt at Springbrook. Much of lunch was spent fending our food from the magpies, mynahs and kookaburra. I ♥ RD's cheeky expression here.

On the way to Twin Falls. Makes me think of that Britney Spears music video, the one set in the canyon. Incidentally, Sometimes has been stuck in my head ever since dinner last Tuesday at Fisherman's Wharf. Serves me right for mouthing the lyrics to KG across the room.

KG suggested the second option lacked an E.

Naughty Nana's Club - Where dentures come off and nipple tassels go on



Horsey at Jacobs Well

Sugar factory at Jacobs Well, surrounded by sugar cane fields

Paraglider

Butterfly on RD's porch

Qantas lounge at BNE. You can take showers there. Not that we did.

(Please ignore the incriminating sign) There were about 5 or 6 police vehicles in the immediate vicinity in West End. Apparently a fight broke out somewhere. Like true Malaysians, DC and I stopped to gape.

Towards the doughnut hole

A sleepless night led to a 6.30am departure. I yawned most of the way as KG sped along the highway towards the west. We were undecided. Most people only ever see the Australian coastline, both tourists and residents. KG, who had spent a substantial part of his life in mining towns, was determined that I saw more of his country.

Morning fog

Much of the day was cloudy and wet. KG was disappointed at the uncooperative weather, but I delighted in the shroud of mystery the fog gave everything. The gum trees, the dried out shrubs, the roadkill... everything seemed a little more attractive.

A brief glimpse of sun

The Great Dividing Range is the fourth longest mountain range in the world and separates the urban from the remote. We drove through the curly, swirly roads through Cunningham's Gap, stopping briefly at Main Range National Park. The air was brisk and crisp; KG and I sped up to remain warm.

Fungus among us


A view from the National Park

Having had only potato crisps (Red Rock Sweet Chilli and Sour Cream: I say yum; he says smelly) and trail mix, we stopped by Warrick for some proper breakfast.

The charming town hall, which had some young men selling raffle tickets. The prize? Hard wood. Enticing, huh.


I had Eggs Florentine and the creepy pink non-Lamington Lamington in the foreground. He had salty porridge (which we seasoned with pepper and honey to no avail) and carrot cake. We won't be going back to Lorraine's in a hurry.


Grain silos. Yes, that's where your food comes from.

We moved on to the Aboriginal town of Boggabilla. We stopped by the Wobbly Boot Hotel, which is more of a pub really, for a drink. The bartenders were a friendly motley crue of a family, including an unexpected Muslim girl, complete with a headscarf.

Their merchandise included Dickhead Port. Yes, that's a man with a rather... phallic proboscis. Cough.


Even toilet rolls were chained here.


A burnt down house - an unnervingly common sight in the town.


Pies at Goondiwindi for lunch. Pretty standard fare.

After some discussion, we decided not to drive another 500km to Cunnamulla and instead to spend the night at Moree, which is already about 500km inland. The Dragon and Phoenix Inn was (surprise, surprise) run by the Chinese. KG had stayed there some years back and related a funny anecdote. There used to be tour groups of Chinese tourist visitors and the Inn staff were concerned about bedsheets being stolen, hence forcing guests to check out at 7am.

The main reason we chose this place - an inhouse artesian therme. That's the (freezing) cold pool in the background. The brochures at the reception area depicted the pool to have lovely girls in bikinis lounging about. The sad reality proved to be overweight and elderly. KG and I practicised our French whilst paddling about, enjoying the warm, occasionally almost hot artesian water. The sulphuric smell was quite tolerable and actually beneficial. I noticed a marked improvement in the texture of my skin soon after.

That's my name in soy sauce at the Bo-Wa restaurant. Characters not in order.

After a lovely night out with the stars, we began our long journey home, stopping by the town of Warialda. Having no idea where to head for lunch, we bumped into a woman who had just opened a cafe in the town. KG, ever experimental and genial, agreed to two plates of roast and veges there. The food was charmingly homemade, in speed of preparation, looks and taste.

View from a lookout


Along a really isolated stretch


Yes, there's a town called Texas here too, though the population is probably a fraction of the more well known one.


Stanthorpe - the coldest town in Queensland, is amazingly charming and modern. Though not so modern that the shopping centre remained accessible after hours.

I drove the rest of the way home; the following sunset shots are KG's handiwork.