Uninspired Sydney.

I am at a dinner party in Woollahra.

It’s rude of me to me blogging.

It’s often rude of me to be blogging.

The pate is served, the red is being drunk, the dinner’s on the boil… It’s a stealth, swift move I make to jump online.

I ask my cousin if I may please, pretty please, without spilling a drop, borrow her laptop. I don’t explain why.

I am growing tired of explaining why.

Though I delight in having something to say all of a sudden in situations I otherwise might not have.

Might I add also that I’ve not actually snuck off at all to write this. I am plonked right in the middle of the round table that seats the four of us.

I am now being asked what I’m writing.

My mind is in three separate schools of thought and I somehow manage to say the phrase, ‘Pardon me, I am a libertine.’ To which my darling cousin requires a definition. A brief google search and we have all learned something new:

ib⋅er⋅tine  [lib-er-teen, -tin] Show IPA
1. a person who is morally or sexually unrestrained, esp. a dissolute man; a profligate; rake.
2. a freethinker in religious matters.
3. a person freed from slavery in ancient Rome.
4. free of moral, esp. sexual, restraint; dissolute; licentious.
5. freethinking in religious matters.
6. Archaic. unrestrained; uncontrolled.
1350–1400; ME libertyn < L lībertīnus of a freedman (adj.), freedman (n.), equiv. to lībert(us) freedman (appar. by reanalysis of liber-tās liberty as libert-ās) + -īnus -ine 1

1. roué, debauchee, lecher, sensualist. 4. amoral, sensual, lascivious, lewd.

1. prude.

Following this there is something I set out to say.

I had a rather inspiring uninspired afternoon with a friend.

A friend who often butters me up by asking me tales of my travels in order to smoke all of my cigarettes and you know, generally pass the time.

It’s an uninspired state of affairs which leads me to my next point.

I have received a surprising amount of feedback on this here blog thus far, for which I am basically grateful.

155 views in a fortnight.

A shitload of text messages.

A few comments from cats on the street.

And a dozen or so facebook messages.

What I find curious however, about the some 155 hits I’ve had thus far on this site is this:

Why don’t people leave comments?

Why don’t people say what they mean?

Why are we so preoccupied with voyeurism and all things passive, rather than, you know, throwing a girl a bone, tossing a fella a buck?



And with that… I rejoin the dinner party, rub my eyes, wish I was showered and watered and fed, nude an possibly in bed… If that be any insight, thus far in to all the places this here project is taking me.


What was I saying?

Oh yeah.


Well, I learned yesterday that Leonard only ever sold 100 copies of his first novel and well… that’s heaps like being a rude bitch at a dinner party with 155 google hits under her belt in a fortnight. Don’t ya think?


One Response to “Uninspired Sydney.”
  1. Greg says:

    100 copies – so the Young Ones were right 🙂 As for blogging at a dinner party…..well it may have been rude a few years back but it seems to be the norm now days. When BJ & I were in the States (June 09) I was floored by the way a lot of the people we spent time with would keep their Blackberries etc near by and if you mentioned something of interest, say from Australia, they would dive for their devices and look it up on Wikipedia or similar. Example….we were talking about Michael Phelps and the Americans were saying how good he was (and rightly so) – I mentioned to them about Shane Gould and how good a swimmer she was. Next thing I know this guy we are with starts spitting out her record “at one time she held every freestyle world record from 50m to 1500m”. At first I thought wow this guys knows his shit – until I realised he was being electronically assisted. But this is the age we live in now. People seem smarter because the information is now there at the push of a button – however the trick is…..will they retain all the information they are accessing or is just too easy now to reference it and therefore what is the point in keeping it locked away in the memory bank?

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