Wednesday, November 3, 2010

It's not you, it's me.

I read a quote from Jerry Seinfeld once, a reply to the question of which city he preferred- Sydney or Melbourne? He said that he didn't get the Australian rivalry, that a country's allowed to have more than one city. I am usually torn between the two, but in the best way- except for today. Today I am smokin' hot under the collar, Sydney, and it's not just because you pulled a sunny day out of your barrel of tricks. It's because Young Hunting is only stocked in Melbourne and I can't get my skingers at their jewellery. It's not that you're lacking exactly, Sydney, but you're just not what I need right now, y'know? 
Today I need cobbled streets, hidden away bars and something on the rocks. Today I need a layer of metal on each finger, spiked, sharp, black and silver, dangerous, don't-mess-with-me tough. Never have I hankered for metal hands more than the moment when I saw these:





 
I feel like this photograph is mocking me. All heaped there, so nonchalant. I may be wearing nine rings today (not exaggerating) but none of them look neolithic and this, dear reader, is a grave problem.

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