Ok. So, being the classy bird I am, I finished off my fortnight in Australia by fucking someone in the toilets of the pub where "Priscilla" was filmed. I thought that was good.

I woke up in Fruitbat and Dunc's hotel this morning because I wasn't feeling particularly well last night and they rescued me. Sat and did a lot of chiling before heading out for a meal with them both this afternoon then hitting Grace Brothers for one final time and buying presents and stuff. I also bought (from another shop) a Didjeridu for Mum (more accurately her class!) and a Koala for Karen and a boomerang for Alan.

This evening we headed to The Imperial Hotel, in Erskinville, for the Priscilla show. I'm sort of annoyed I didn't take my camera because it was the most fantastic stage show I've seen for a while. The pub sequences were filmed here and they mlik every last drop from it. The fact it's more lasting in my head than on film is appealing.

I'm sitting now at 6am having just got in from the pub waiting for the cab to come and pick me up (in 45 minutes) to go to the airport and take me home. It's probably a bit debauched that I've almost literally fallen from a club into a Boeing but I don't care. I've had sex, after all.

That was strange. I got off with four people tonight (Sean, someone nameless, someone nameless, and James) and danced lots indeed. James was a friend of Sean's who I met in the bar and then got dancing with. Eventually, he pointed out that we couldn't go to his because I was leaving the country in three hours so we settled on the toilets. Romantic, of course, and horny as hell. Once again technique (and stature) complimented before depositing a load of English love in said boy's mouth. Oh - I'm such a classy bird.

Now I have to go and pack the few remaining items. I don't want to go home. It's a bit sad, really.