I have a theory about something. Actually I have millions of theories about a squidadlion things (sheesh, that’s a new word even for me) but don’t ask me about them because well, I won’t ever stop telling you.
Take Panu for example. He asked me about one of my theories once and look what happened, he’s now chained to me and I even followed him across the hemisphere because people, if you find someone who listens to your outrageous theories, you hang onto them. Tight.
But anyway, I’m gonna share one of my theories with you. It’s about chocolate. And love. And the fact that chocolate has nothing to do with love.
Read the full post here…
.
Los Angeles, the City of Angels. More appropriately (for me anyway), it was the City of Food, or rather, of amazing burgers, cupcakes and fried chicken. Love. Over the course of four days, we ate at a dozen supertacular places, but in light of keeping this post to a read-able length, I’m going to do some culling (wow this is hard, you realise this is like me culling my children) and touch on the best of LA eating.
[Note: I woke up this morning thinking about KyoChon fried chicken, hence I finally got my butt into gear to do this post]
So here goes, and in no particular order…
Read the full post here…
.
Location: Amsterdam, The Netherlands
Theme song: Bicycle Race, by Queen
Objective: Amsterdam is a hodgepodge mix and everyone seems to be there for far and varied reasons. Sure there are the bucks weekends which is a no brainer really because there is just so much sex walking around on legs of all shapes and sizes that it’s bound to be a good weekend. There are also hens weekends, which has me more perplexed. There are also the maryjane fiends, who giggle their way in and out of coffee shops. And there are the genuine architectural enthusiasts who are in awe of the canals and bridges ~ more canals than Venice and more bridges than Paris, they say.
And then there is me. My objective? Eat Amsterdam.
Read the full post here…
.
Summertime in London is a really odd thing. For one, you don’t pack your jackets away. And secondly, it’s actually colder than Sydney right now and they are in the midst of their winter. The third thing, and this happened yesterday, they announce there’s a heat wave when there is not. It’s 23 degrees, my English friends. 23 degrees.
But I will pucker my little lips together and I Shalt Not Whinge. In fact, I think I even embraced the London summer not so long ago, no?
Read the full post here…
.
I’m gonna ask you to do something really hard. Really really hard, but bear with me ok? Because there once was a time when I was young, and the world was a very different place, and I want you to go with me there, just for one moment.
So sit still, close your eyes and breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt at yoga, is that that way of breathing is how a person should always breath (because god help me I thought my party trick of in one nostril and out the other was just the coolest thing since Fido Dido). Anyway, breathe, and concentrate… and push your mind way back to the depths of your adolecense.
Back to a time of scrunchies and crimped hair. A time of leg warmers (oh wait, that’s like now).
Back to a time when Tom Cruise was hot.
Read the full post here…
.
what’s talkin?