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Why so quiet for?

I know - I've been more silent than the Australian Government on why Pauline Hansen has not yet been taken for a long walk off a short pier. Between the five day Easter long weekend, and approaching Rosemount Australian Fashion Week 2011, I've basically either been crashed out in a comatose state, or feverishly working in a "the world will end if I don't do this thing right now, followed by that thing, then the other thing!" manner. Ugh, so many things. It's like the things never end.

However - there is light on the horizon. I will be blogging every day next week, bring you all the fashion week action on Simon Says Style, and all social gossip from the ensuing after-parties right here.

So grab a doona, order popcorn in bulk and await all the juicy juiciness that approaches. And what the fuck was that sentence? 

Clearly delirious.

happy

Life as we know it. As we live it.

Courtesy of Lara Milenko

The evil couch of death and resentment

Not actual couch - visual aid only.

So, we have a couch in our living room. Okay, in hindsight, that's a pretty retarded sentence, because most people do. Moving along...

This particular couch has been with us for a few years, and was much loved for the duration of that time. However, over the last little while, it has started to get dirtier than Oliver Twist, and bitchy as a result. Like Tina-Fey-Impersonating-Sarah-Palin bitchy. What was once a beige suede fabric (disaster) has gradually descended into shades of guilt and grime. I know that technically they are not colors, but in this scenario - they are.

One too many hangovers, one too many greasy meals, one too many sweaty summer nights have turned a once-beautiful lounge into something from a fabric horror film. Some nights I awake in a cold sweat, imagining said couch hovering over me in my sleep, ready to smother me in retaliation for not practicing appropriate sofa cleaning processes. It would whisper something along the lines of "Why didn't you love me? I just wanted to lovvvvve youuuu" in an evil cigarette stained voice before coming in for the kill...

Thankfully, the couch is moving to Melbourne with a best girl of mine, Gaia. Although I am deeply saddened by the concept of her leaving, the fact that the couch will find a new lease on life in Victoria makes me happy. 

Our new lounge furniture shall be leather. Sweet, cleanable, spray-and-wipe worthy leather. 

The end.

(P.S. Type 'stained couch' into Google Image search. The results are...unexpected)

Snoop Doggy Dog

I am not a fan of rap music. I do not consider the ability to speak words at a fast pace to a bass beat worthy of accolade. I also detest marijuana. So by all counts, a Snoop Dog concert is probably the last place in the world you should ever find me...

However, this week some friends and I attended an intimate Snoop+Nelly show at StarCity Casino - and it was fucking unreal. Red carpets and paps greeted us as we walked into an ambient space that had been littered with chaise lounges and candlelight for the evening. As Nelly opened the evening with his performance, we all realised how many of his tunes had been favorites in our high school days (if you ever repeat that, I will kill you and deny everything). Snoop followed, oozing lazy-cool attitude and wowing us with those deep caramel vocal chords...

We grooved, we crumped, we all made strange grunting noises that only legitimate residents of The Bronx can pull off. Basically, the whitest kids in town went gangsta for an evening. Winner.

Snoop Dog

Me and Avril. Memo to myself - do not wash hair directly before leaving the house ever again, Fluffy.

Danny and Em

Cash Moneyyyyyy

Harry and Emily

The beautiful and talented Lara Milenko

Kendal and Dider

Nadia Fairfax

Darko and Emily

Beach Haus 1st Brithday

It's true, the nightclub I spend all my working (and sleeping) hours in turned one year old this week. They grow up so fast! Although, with the amount of alcohol-fueled-sexual-deviance that transpires within those four walls, I doubt this particular one year old had any infant innocence to begin with...

The lushest crowd Sydney has to offer gathered on the evening of Wednesday the 6th of April to ring in the second year of life for our ultra exclusive venue. Cocktails were sipped, conversation was charming. The mixture of DJs and celebrities on the decks kept the tunes tight, with the exception of Channel V presenter Danny Clayton, who rocked out Rebecca Black's 'Friday' at one point. Massive win or epic fail? You decide...but the kids went wild for it on the night.

In conclusion, it was a spectacular night, with the appropriate Media coverage as a result. I'm very proud of what our team at Beach Haus have achieved, and would like to thank everyone who turned out to support this fantastic event.

Now enjoy a few snaps of dear friends of mine that came to celebrate. Big love.

xx

Andrew Maciver and Bola Otesanya

Freddie Fredericks and Ruby Forest

Didier Cohen and DJ Tenzin

Bianca Che and Jessica Lawson

Nikki Phillips and LC

India Abadee and Kris Conde-Bolos

Ivana Martyn and Stacey Kenely

Cash Money and Kelsea Nagel

Mia Pantechis and Alex 'Sparkle' Smyth-Kirk

Ryan Lisson and Mitch Fong

Sara Bray and Danny Clayton

Tiffany Farrington and Ollie Lloyd

Pigeon Kicker

Strolling the city streets on a daily basis exposes you to unusual characters. Street urchins, feline-throwing cat ladies and public nudity are all quite commonplace, and go by unnoticed after awhile. However, I passed a man yesterday who deemed it his lifes mission to kill a pigeon by stomping on it. Here he was, chasing this traumatised creature around the street, under cars and even into a garden whilst screaming "Bastard bird, bastard bird!". The most unusual thing? He was a quite well heeled, ordinary looking man. Also rather unusual, this was the third pigeon attack I have witnessed this week.

Two options; Either men around the city have started having lasting relationships with these birds, unaware that pigeons are slutty creatures. Therefore when the cheating bird-female is caught in the arms of another, the human-male loses his shit and flies into a heartbroken rage. The second option and more likely option? There is a whole lot of random bird-hatred crazy in town at the moment, and I don't seem to have received the memo. 

To pigeons everywhere - I apologize for the actions of mankind. Feel free to peck away in self defense...

xx