I've just got in from last night which is amusing because I'm just about to go out for tonight. Dirty stop out!

I had my hair cut yesterday and ended up pulling the guy in the hairdresser's. That's probably a bit whorey, really, but nothing ensued (I was meeting Jon for lunch to go to the Town Hall) but I was quite chuffed that my new stylee was appreciated.

Jon and I met in town and we meandered down to the Town Hall where I took a look at the organ (vast) but didn't get the opportunity to play, unoforunately. Then we headed down to Circular Quay to meet up with Toby and do some touristy stuff for Jon. I bought some CDs which were ludicrously cheap. I'm looking forward to listening to Dame Edna Everage narrating Peter and the Wolf.

Headed - after some ice cream at 'French Riveria' in Double Bay - to The Albury for the drag show in the evening, then after a couple of intermediate places, ended up in ARQ again where I met the most beautiful boy! His name was Brad and, conveniently enough, he was completely off his tits so convincing him to do things obscene was a pushover.

Flirted lots with the barman from Stonewall who said he was "straight" (uhuh, yeah) and was gropey and evil but nothing came of that. He said I was "endeering." I pointed out that puppies are endeering.

Brad, Charlie, and I staggered out of ARQ at about 6am and had drinks with an Australian version of Charlie (called Stephen) who had the added advantage of being bendable (apparently, of course) and having a fit-as-fuck body before heading home to pass out, initially.

Everything is bigger in Australia. Brad was attached to something that I wasn't sure whether I wanted to suck or pay a toll to drive over. I've never come across a cock big enough to need more than one fist clenched around it for amusement purposes, so I enjoyed using it to floss my tonsils (in the shower, in the bedroom, in the spare bedroom, on the veranda, in the kitchen, in Charlie's brother's bed once he'd gone to work, in Charlie's bed) and was mightily relieved I'd not brought any condoms or lube as I didn't fancy the thought of being split in half.

Had a minor moment of irresponsibility when I was toppy briefly - for about 30 seconds - with rubber bits but in a place pre-prepared with a non-ideal substance. Not concerned, though as it was more of a "And this is what you could've won" than "Oh fuck it, we'll use this anyway" thing. I know what I mean, anyway. A bit stupid though, although we'd discuss the implications in an earlier conversation (I declined the proposition) so I don't really need to worry.

The amusing thing about him being drug fucked was that last night I couldn't believe I'd taken him home. This evening (!), when the trip wore off, neither could he. But I'd shagged him by that point so it didn't really bother me. It's a small price to pay for having a cock the size of a wine bottle rammed down your throat. Gag reflex? What's that?

Anyway. I'm now sitting in Tobes and Tony's apartment (they're at work) wondering what to do now. I'll probably start packing (would seem a sensible option) then prepare for another night out on the town.

I don't want to go home. Oh - and I haven't posted my postcards yet. I have done some packing and preparation for Sunday, but I'm now about to go out again!!