I am back in Australia and once again I cannot breathe. Had an attack LITERALLY the second I stepped off the plane. I didn't have a SINGLE problem in Christchurch if you don't count the attack triggered by the Twigging Smoking Girl and that doesn't count because it could have happened anywhere. SO. Clearly Australia is like "Okay, go away now." :P.

And now I paraphrase rip Circe off directly (Thanks, Cath!) We had Mexican Cafe times, showed her the entirely of The Mighty Boosh, lay in the Gardens and dozed in the sun, shopped for sensible grown up house things, jumped all over beds that didn't belong to us, consumed our weight in popcorn, and failed to find a coffee maker that suited our requirements.

Indeed we did. Indeed we did. I put one of the beds on lay by, which made me feel all grown up GO ME. And that nap in the sun was a delicious three-way snuggle of wonder. Which made tourists gape.

:D

And now I am roasting in the stupid heat and pining for my girlies of LOVE!

"BRANDONNNNN!! WHYYYYYY!?!?!"
.

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