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The beauty of big cities is the diversity of buskers.
Here in Melbourne, we are blessed with so many permit and illegal street performers despite the unpredictable weather.
The acoustic Flinders Street station tunnels have hosted numerous live performances by unsigned musicians and the bridges around Southbank have been a stage to so many dancers, living statues and tambourine shakers.
One of my firm 2008 favourites was a man dressed like a chicken flapping and clucking its way throughout the summer months all around Southbank. The 'Chicken Man' or so I called him, could often be found on that free space between the Riverside Quay and Esso buildings, with a drum and beat soundtrack to accompany its squawking.
It made me laugh and cringe at the same time.
The other day, I stumbled upon another interesting entertainer: the White Elf (as I have nicknamed him)
He remains frozen for a few minutes before suddenly moving, playing his flute away, a sombre tune that was very reminiscent of Lord of the Rings.
Eerie.
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It was a Carousel that made me stop on my tracks while I was leaving Freshwater Place.
Up and Down... Up and Down it goes...
Plucked out of nowhere and dumped behind Sandridge Bridge and in front of Freshwater Place, it was just perfect to see during winter. It would be beautiful late at night as well, when the fires of Crown Casino was just the perfect backdrop for a Saturday night stroll down Southbank.
Coincidentially, I discovered it when Sex and the City just hit the cinemas.
I can almost see Carrie riding it up and down, dressed in a tutu and cream silk gloves.
Cute. Random. Certainly flippantly chic.
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AndIamnotlying.com reports of a Fight-Club-esque event in Union Square way up in Manhattan a few days back.
Fight Club in Union Square
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I’m one of those sad people who love junk mail.
Crammed in my mailbox, I take delight in flicking through them on my back stoop, with a cup of tea
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This is what I’ve been going on and on about last week to friends– The Miss USA 2008 pageant!
I was recovering from an allergy test gone wrong last week and had the privilege to stay home, curled up in my doona and snub off Dr Phil in favour of the pageant.
I’ve never found anything so hilariously amusing!
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To be fakely engaged is a very reassuring thing.
Picture this: Saturday night out in a local bar with friends who were drunker than I was. Men swarming like bees around us, buzzing away as we tried to swat off people we didn’t want to talk to
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There are a few things I love to do in Melbourne come lunch time.
That precious one hour sandwiched between a long a day at work is my only respite and I hold it close to my heart.
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