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Release The Stars

I decided tonight, after a glass of wine, that should I ever become an extrovert and love being the centre of attention, I might just become a Drag Queen. And not just any Drag Queen mind, a DQ with talent and looks, an ego the size of the universe because I would be adored by the masses. Quite simply because I’d be the bees knees. Guess who I would be, go on guess.

Velvet shorts and leder-frickin-hosen. Sigh. Rufus Wainwright, you don’t do things by halves, do you?

I’d be the bees knees in my velvet shorts and lederhosen. But it wouldn’t matter a bit, cos what this boy lacks in humility and fashion sense (and perhaps laundry skills) he more than makes up for in talent. Can the boy sing. Unfortunately Miss Alison cannot, so I apologise to the hood for my murdering Mr. Wainwright tonight. It’s a hot sticky night, I’m prepping for my market stall tomorrow, and sometimes a girl needs a glass of pinot and some Rufus. I’m not happy with the display of my stall. The problem is Miss Alison does not drive, so she needs to travel light, as she appears at Eveleigh courtesy of City Rail. I’ve spent the afternoon trying to make my market stall look a little more desireable.  I don’t have the legs (nor ass) for velvet shorts, so I’ve had to come up with other things.

I took the hoopy thing off the wall and made little cardboard stands for the corsages.

I made cake stands out of floral plates.

I made stands for my necklets out of cardboard.

All in all it was quite a creative afternoon. But still something was missing, something was not quite right with the display.

Honest to God.

Eat your heart out, Rufus.

I will be at Eveleigh Markets tomorrow, from 10am, minus Hamish. (H will be reclining on a chaise lounge somewhere, waiting for someone to bring him a G&T). If you’re in the area, drop by and say hello. Especially if you want a cat.

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