Procrastibaking

Thursday evening I was bullied into convinced that I should make oreo cheesecake brownies. Photographic evidence is not nearly as accurately delicious as actual product, but will hopefully do some justice in displaying what may be the greatest taste combination. I have also coined stolen the term 'procrastibaking' to describe this habit.

At night I had full intention of going to a jazz night, but was largely time-distracted by this show called Embarrassing Bodies. Imagine the most repulsive medical conditions possible... and then think worse. Try anal skin flap, bladder that's falling out, bearded lady, kilos of excess skin, and you'll be getting closer. Now, imagine that not only are these conditions spoken about, but actually shown. There's seemingly no censorship with television here, and while my flatmates all ate dinner, our eyes were plagued enticed tickled with sickly genitalia and whatnot. Once I managed to peel myself off the death-trap couch, halfway through a 20/20 episode describing a BDSM sex goddess [grandma who's slept with 10,000 men], I was off to karaoke night [too lazy for the hike to jazz] for some rounds of terrible singing to be viewed.

Friday night my entire flat went to our kiwi-host's home for a great home-cooked meal. As well as we've been doing in terms of well prepared meals, it was a real treat having mom-made lasagna in a clean environment, with all plates matching and no melted cheese on the table [also, no dishes to do]. It was night time so we couldn't see the farm, but in its place we saw embarrassing adorable baby pictures.

Saturday began with the farmer's market and then progressed towards rendering our newly-acquired-keyboard useful. My ability to play the piano seems to have faded some bit, but soon enough Bohemian Rhapsody will hopefully be played with a guitar accompaniment. That afternoon I went to the Green Man brewery tour which is an organic local dunedin brewery that has delicious beers. As one of the two <20 year olds, and the only female, it became a tour of mostly 30-40 year old men. I managed to slip down a ramp whilst there due to the low-traction slippers I was wearing, but it was much more funny than painful. I also met a guy that would have been my neighbor if I lived in my flat a decade earlier. He asked if I've caught any ducks yet, to which I replied with a confused face. He then imparted knowledge on to me about how he used to catch ducks and cook them for a cheap dinner.

Bottling Machine. I think we should get one for lazy drink retrieval.

Night time was riddled with party related shenanigans and I was up until dawn mostly talking my face off.


Yesterday I saw a new sight, that being off of the cliff that was once popular for suicides. As far as last view goes, I wouldn't complain. I also tried a deep fried moro bar [caramel, nougat deliciousness].

Night time meant tennis balls thrown at our window from our neighbors, to alert us that there was something worth watching in the window. A black clothed figure with an expressionless white mask and knife lurked about uncomfortably for quite some time. After disappearing shortly, and returning with a shorter stature, murder was displayed-- in the kitchen, with a knife. Lights went dim, and it wasn't until much later that we saw this cloaked creature once again, pressed against our screen door, knife in hand. We locked the door for the first time in a while for the night.