dinosaurs, Aesop Rock, pizza

When I sit at my artistically chaotic writing bench, stiff whiskey in one hand and feeling like a dangerously charming lady version of Hemmingway, I can usually think of a few things to write within a couple of minutes. If I'm feeling uninspired I might check my blog stats and have a giggle at the places my readers live (Romania? Really? That's a thing?) and what they typed into Google to find me (show me how to swagger (!)). I find it funny because I always assume people find me by accident and the only people that actually read my blog are people who pretty much just want to make sure I haven't written anything obnoxious about them. So at midnight on Saturday when I was Google-stalking myself I noticed in my inbox a two-week old email from someone called Nick who reads my blog and is not my dad or otherwise obligated to read what I write. Today's blog is dedicated to Nick in lieu of a nice big date and muesli slice with a ribbon around it as thanks for being a reader. I should probably apologise to him because now I know that somebody might read this, I'm really nervous and a bit crampy and I think my ear infection has maybe started to come back. I doubt Hemmingway had to deal with this kind of neuroticism.

Nick's keywords made me think of Chadchad, an uberhipster who lives in Seoul and makes necklaces out of plastic dinosaurs and probably listens to a lot of Aesop Rock. When I lived in Korea we went to Seoul a few times specifically to stalk Chadchad but we never so much as sighted him, even though we camped out at all the likely scenes. You would think Chadchad would have been drawn to something like a fancy party thrown for Doc Martens, but apparently not. I always felt like he was kind of an enigma, maybe the kind of person who only lives on the internet and doesn't have a phone number or a facebook and plans his social life with only the use of Tumblr. The kind of person that knows well how to use the self-timer on his camera for the sole purpose of doing hotel bed jumping photos.

Speaking of things in Korea, and because I now shall address the topic of pizza, I want to share with you the story of the greatest pizza I ever ate. I can't say it didn't happen more than once, but the first time was more magical than the others because it came as a surprise. In Korea, if you order a plain pizza or a pizza with just cheese, it will come with honey which you can use at your discretion. But who can be discreet with things like that? I certainly wasn't. Do it. Try it now, at home.

This week I turn 26 so we are going to to Northbridge, which is rad now. It used to be all lunch bars and noodle houses and a few pubs where it was known punters were not adverse to the old 4am glassing. There I was once propositioned by a homeless man and later the same week I was stopped by a couple having a drunken brawl so that the woman could show me pictures of her newborn baby. Also, after Friday I will be unemployed again so there will be many more blogs to come.

We are always waiting for your keywords. Why not write us an email now? Just choose any words--anything you can think of. Email them to us. Not only will you receive my writing of goodness, but my resident artist and non-intimate life partner will use the words to make a picture that you can print out and  put on all the walls of your house to create a unique John Malkovich type living space.