Once Sugar Lips and I had a routine. We'd go out for drinks (well a drink, cos we are financially restrained) and much chat and merriment until the small hours of the morning in a Northcote drinkery (that I shan't name because it would then become packed out with my screaming hordes of fans and internet stalkers).
But lately we have been seeking new adventures, moving out of our comfort zone to find people and places to explore and mercilessly mock. Last weekend was a spontaneous trip to Melbourne's wonderland - the Crown Casino. But I'm not going to mock Crown here. It's too easy.
This Friday, we were on the hunt for fun again. We ended up in one of the few unspoilt pockets of St Kilda, the Greyhound Hotel, playing and winning games of pool, playing and losing games of pool, listening to some good old fashioned rock on the jukebox and learning about the true meaning of In The Ghetto.
But before ending up there, in the actual process of journeying there, we spotted several ladies of the evening causing Sugar Lips to break into a sound of Girls on the Avenue. Much later, this expanded into a game called Songs about Whores. Of course, we got through the obvious ones - Private Dancer, Roxanne, Teenage Whore by Hole. Then Sugar Lips, as is his want, came in with some damn obscure ones that I can't remember. Then he followed it with some just plain dodgy ones.
These songs are not about whores, no matter what Sugar Lips tries to argue:
- Luka, by Suzanna Vega
- Lola, by the Kinks
- Superstar, by the Carpenters
And, technically, any song written about Courtney Love is a song about whores. Don't you agree? Just to digress, Courtney is pregnant again, what the fuck!
So we ended the night driving past more whores - girl whores and boy whores and a very ugly horse face whore (who was snapped up surprisingly fast). Then we came home and had coffee. Adventures are tiring.
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