Early this morning I could be seen lolloping over Mt Victoria like a determined gazelle-ferret. For half an hour I didn’t see a single soul. It’s increased the variety of ways I can get from town to the Eastern suburbs, but I wouldn’t want to do it on a rainy day. I took this picture of a view of Wellington I hadn’t seen before:
I was going to take some more cafe photos for the backgrounds of Jitterati, but for some reason I couldn’t face another morning of explaining who I was, who I worked for, what I wanted to do, and what I wanted to use the photos for.
I found some Rock Star energy drink on sale… the can label is refreshingly free of testosterone (I bet they wish they could include that as an ingredient!) although it does read “Rock Star Energy Drink is scientifically formulated for those who lead active and exhausting lifestyles – from athletes to rock stars”. Um… rock stars lead exhausting lives? I know they travel a lot and they have to be fairly energetic from 10pm to 3am most nights, but apart from that? Also it’s imported from the States and bottled in Australia before being shipped here, which seems a lot of bother for a drink that tastes like something Pete Doherty threw up.
Oh, and the text on a can of Ink reads “Ink. Marks worn with pride. Symbols of courage and determination. Earned, not given. Rise to the challenge.” The challenge of… drinking an energy drink? Going into a parlour and asking for a Smurfette design on your lower back so your boyfriend has something to aim at?
It’s 4℃ in my bedroom tonight, booyah! I’m now regularly colder at home than when I lived in Moscow 20 years ago, where the normal winter temperature is -20℃, but the State provided heating through massive hot water pipes crossing the city. Bless its oppressive Communist heart.
