Hanging with Harry

As old Robert Frost would say, “I took the road less travelled by / And that has made all the difference.”

Well, actually, La took the dog poo-strewn bush path to grab the JCCs from school and the only difference it made that sunny afternoon was to the health of the soles of los trainers.

There’s a srs bottleneck of blog posts building up in the Triv psyche. (As an ex once commented, “Your mind is one scary neighbourhood — you shouldn’t be allowed to roam it alone.” Didn’t work out so well for him.) So there’s nowt to do but get on with it, in a highly randomised order.

Bought the little male JCC these “boths” (his term for in-and-out-of-water fashion trews). He’s inherited La love of a retro poolside motel digi print. This is how he showed his appreciation.

Think he’s twerking? Am embarrassed I had to resort to the deity YouTube to find out what that was. How could that portly throwback Clive Palmer know what twerking was when La Triv didn’t? Anyhow, turned out I knew what it was, just didn’t know that was what it was called. So there.

Headed out with Seriousimo one Saturday night, because…

Hell yeah! And lucky Princess got one.

Seriousimo still has not succeeded in untucking his shirts or introducing his trousers to his natural waistline on weekends. It was OK when we were sitting down at 4Fourteen, but I walked a bit ahead of him on the way there lest anyone should think La was hitting the town with Harry Highpants.

We scoffed some amazing dessert with dulce de leche and white chocolate ice cream and some biscuity toffee sheets. OMG. Michelle Bridges would have king hit me with one of her toned guns.

Saw a fillum (as La Nona Joan would have said). It was no blockbuster.

However, the colour of the theatre was apt, as la fillum was “Red Obsession“. It was great. Featured an interview with a Chinese tycoon who’s supposed to have one of the most amazing private wine collections in the world, valued at $60m. And he’s amassed his fortune by manufacturing s*x toys. The footage of bored factory workers clutching great handfuls of freshly-minted mauve vibrators was not to be forgotten in a hurry.

And speaking of s*x toys, spotted this on the walk home from the cinema. Thankfully Harry H was some distance behind me so I could secretly photograph it without creating unrealistic expectations that he might one day find it hiding beneath the Marital Bed of Deceit.

Giddy up!