||[Jun. 13th, 2009|02:53 pm]
After watching Kill Bill Vols 1 & 2, I would have predicted Quentin Tarantino would be the one who wanked himself to death. David Carradine at least didn't die with a plastic bag over his head and his pants down. That was the way the son of family friends went out in the eigthies. In the nineties and aughties it's all belts an ties and closet rails.|
I got back from SF and disappeared a little into "in-office sabbatical" mode. The suggestion of travelling to Mountain View just two weeks later I couldn't face, especially after being stopped at Immigration for more questioning last time. The outcome was brief and positive ("Yes, I had to withdraw my application for admission to the US once in 1999 and flew back to Sydney to get my passport stamp fixed. Thank you, Good Day" but you never know if an official having a bad day will just decide to refuse you entry. Also, the jetlag made me think "Fuck no!" when the trip was suggested. Now that I've gotten over that, I'm wondering if I should have made the trip.
Tonight yuriverse and I are going out to see "Vivid Sydney", then to dinner and a drink or two on Oxford St. It's been so long since we participated in the scene we're about to lose our Gay credentials.