One of those random sorta nights…

You know the sort of night I mean… it was just random.

I started by doing some press work — which by the way, I’m now a press photographer — at The Four Seasons hotel on George St. by taking paparazzi-esque shots of actors and actresses and anyone else who was apparently known. A bit annoyed about that because whilst I got the call late and had to leave pretty quickly to get into the city, there were no free cabs on Bondi Road and then a bus came so I headed up the Junction. Still no cabs but… lo behold… two express buses.

At this point, the logical part of my brain has kicked in and gone “LEIGH YOU’RE FUCKING TIRED!!! GO TO BED!!!”

At this point, the illogical part of my brain has decided to go on with the story and say that with two express buses, the buses can play more leapfrog than they normally do and — in essence — get me and the rest of my fellow travelers to our destinations a lot faster.

Right. You’d think so wouldn’t you?

[b]Whose idea was it to put a Christmas Carols celebration in Martin Place in November?![/b]

Yes, I have that to say as it was bumper-to-bumper traffic from pretty much the start of the start of Liverpool St. (at the end of Oxford St.) to Martin Place. I don’t know how long it would’ve taken to get to the Quay. I gave up at Martin Place, got out and walked.

Honestly, it wouldn’t have mattered if I’d taken a cab or bus in this circumstance. It wasn’t a Sydney Transport issue… it was a lack of planning from the City of Sydney… the only real difference between the cab ride and the bus ride would’ve been cost: the bus was a TravelTen and so was approximately two bucks whereas the cab would’ve been about 45 bucks from all the traffic.

Because of the fucking awful traffic, I missed getting the Sam Neill shot. This sucks.

At least I got the Geoffrey Rush shot.

And Emily Barclay. Hubba hubba. Reow. She can throw potatoes at me any day, especially on potato-throwing-Vodka-brewing-Monday.

I was originally told that I would be able to shoot inside the fundraiser where I was doing press work… I could’ve been shooting Jimmy Barnes. But no… I couldn’t. New Idea had the bloody rights. Mind you, I’ve shot inside The Four Seasons before for music… it’s really not THAT fun. Not a whole lot of room to move because the stage just doesn’t come that far off of the ground.

I don’t expect the stage to levitate or anything… but more than 3 or 4 inches would be nice.

Leigh’s stupid-humour section of his brain has just told me to say “that’s what she said”. Instead of saying “that’s what she said”, I’m removing that part of my brain and throwing it into a blender. Mmm… brraaaaii– sweater.

Shit. Wrong part of my brain.

Anyway, so after talking with some of the other photographers down there (some of whom were very nice… and others… well shit, not so nice… I don’t have a fucking metaphor or opposite phrasing at four-forty-six in the morning… I need sleep)… I packed up my gear and headed South.

South of George St. Actually, I don’t even think it is South.

I went down George St. Does that work? It’s probably not South, but seriously, I’m just too fucking tired to give a damn.

So I got in at 9… and was told that the gig wasn’t going to begin until 10.30.

Well fuck me.

No, seriously… somebody fuck me. I could’ve used that time that I spent being bored and waiting for the gig to begin to be fucking someone. I probably wouldn’t have been, but that’s not to say that I couldn’t have been. Or could’ve been. I don’t know. My eyes are drooping and falling under the spell of sleepy .. er… bleepy? I don’t have any funny sounding names for crashing. How about I continue this in the morning.

*insert Leigh sleeping here* [i]zzz… zzz…zzz…sex…zzz…[/i]

And we were… where… exactly? Right. Now I remember.

Yes. I had a real sleep. I started writing at 4.31 this morning and it’s now 12.02 in the afternoon.

I’m just THAT dedicated to my blog! (It doesn’t take seven and a half hours to write a blog, though it may take that long to read.)

So… back to it, I guess?

When the gig started, I went upstairs and had my ear drums blown out from the shock of how fucking loud it was. The sound guy was either deaf or an idiot. You couldn’t pick up individual sound from what was being played by the band.

A band called [url=http://www.wolfandcub.com/]Wolf & Cub[/url] were playing at this first night of [url=http://www.flightofthecoachmen.com/]The Flight Of The Coachmen[/url] and while Levi’s PR has said that this music was turning peoples’ heads, I really couldn’t see the fuss over this band. Could’ve been the sound guy, though… the sound was all muddled and all you could hear was messy guitar and pounding bass with a bit of vocals all meshed together in a sticky sort-of goo… didn’t sound very spectacular. The guy didn’t seem to have that good of a voice or all that fantastic guitar skills, in my opinion. The bassist was okay. The drummers were great.

Drummers. Plural. Keep the “s”. Two drummers. Very cool and playing with and against each other.

Seriously, not sure what the big deal about “Wolf & Cub” is supposed to be. I think the band I’m in is better, and we have issues.

Hopefully tonights bands are better, though I seriously just don’t want to go. It felt like most of the club was filled with wankers last night.

Except for a few people. A few people weren’t.

[img]https://www.leighlo.com/uploads/random/angjess.jpg[/img]

On the left is Jess and on the right is Angie. Both Jess & Angie are from the Eastern Suburbs, which is always nice to know that people are from the same part of Sydney you’re from.

As I was leaving, Angie stopped me. Wanted her picture taken. At least I think that’s what she wanted. Really, after having my brains blown out at bob-knows-whatever decibels, I really have no idea what she wanted.

[img]https://www.leighlo.com/uploads/random/angie01.jpg[/img]

Anyway, I snapped a few photos of her and she asked me to go upstairs with her. So I did.

And after losing the rest of my hearing from Wolf & Cub, I met the rest of her group of friends (where I met Jess) and took more pictures. I think I became their personal photographer for the night, which is always nice to have, I guess.

[img]https://www.leighlo.com/uploads/random/angie02.jpg[/img]

I don’t remember the girl who Angie is sniffing the hair of or doing whatever in that pic. I remember she was a journalist for Rush (I think).

They were all hot girls that I met. I had my ass grabbed by Jess. And at one point, after having both her and Angie kiss my cheek, Jess pointed at her lips and her cheek and I think she wanted to kiss me, but really… I’ve got no clue. Seriously. She did it for a minute or so and I just kept yelling (to try to get over the sound) “I don’t understand” and “I don’t know what you want” because really… I don’t.

That sort of crap just isn’t in my head. No one told me what to do in those situations. I wasn’t born with a part of the brain or a gland that said “ok Leigh… you’re with some hot women… one is grabbing your ass… she’s pointing at her lips and she’s just kissed you on the cheek… go for it and smooch the girl”.

Would’ve been nice though. Both things really: to kiss Jess and to have a part of the brain that would tell me what to do in situations like that.

I got the weaker trade-off, I guess though. Great brain, shit social skills. Go figure.

Still… hot girls.

Odd night.

Posted in Life, Random Nights Out
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