Melbourne III

 Melbourne..."And Just Like That" 

We last left Mrs. Bradshoe purging the memories of Senor Grande from her mind and wardrobe in a Melbourne sock shopping spree (it was as depressing/cathartic as it sounds).  

The pandy hit everyone hard, especially her. The closed boarders left Bradshoe stranded in Hawaii for what felt like an eternity, and in that time... all she really needed (for this plot to continue).... was to return to face this city. 

The thought of closure lingered in the air like the wet fart smell of a fish market in Bangkok on a humid summer day. 

Afterall, its not like she sat around in her apartment counting down the 1,269 days, 7 hours, 11 minutes, and 35, 36, 37, 38 seconds since she'd seen him at 8:21am on September 16th 2019.  

So I wondered, if the boarders can get closure, why shouldn't I?

                                      

My mind spun. Would I see him here? What would I say? How would I react? How would HE react? This man was so significant to me in so many ways...and I just...need....

                                                  

.... a haircut. 

Not just any haircut will do...no, she needs a reworking. a reimagining. a makeover of sorts. There is only ONE place in Melbourne I trust.

Tren Dee Hair Salon

"who is she?" I heard them asking themselves.... in my head... as nobody glanced in the direction of my mediocrity.  To which I boldly reply.... "I am Setdown Bradshoe, dog cunt of Melbourne". 

Lookin runway fresh and powers restored, me and the gal decided to catch up for drinks. - *pretend these are trendy*

feeling fabulous. 

To....... Above Board

 

then off to The Everleigh. 

                   

A wise philosopher once said: 

"She made us drinks to drink, we drunk em' , got drunk" - T Pain. 

                                       

And so I wondered.....is there more to life than maintenance and martinis? 

Truth be told, closure aside, I came for one very spiritual thing: a campy Pride Country Fest called Chillout. I needed a lil yeehaw in my life full of HeNaw.

Strange. even in his arms I don't feel like hoot'n or holler'n.. 

Tips from one girl to another....manifesting things is real...in jest I told the girls before the start of this "if its authentic, there will be yodelling, line dancing, and cowboys". 

The scene: 1.5 hour from Melb- Daylesford, Vic.

For those who've never left NYC, picture those small country towns you only see on the news after a train derails and blows up in them...except everyone there is gay friendly and not poisoned.  

Just look at it...one road? Its 5th Ave without 1st-3rd, Lexington, Park, and Madison. 

                                     

*large field, stage, stary night so perfect the stars light up the sky, bar tent rests back against the tree line*

The first act is this: 

Everyone was in plaid, singing country music, the cowboy hats, the boots, THE YODDELING???? the whole thing felt like living in a gay parody of Texas or a Swiss Festa Junina.

TREND ALERT! 

Yodelling was the theme of the week! 

*flashback 5 days ago* My old gal pal and I were discussing how yodeling in pop was NOT yet dead after THIS song 2LATE came out and sent us down memory lane.  Oh to reminisce our fave yodel pop hits of each decade notably YODEL IN THE CANYON OF LOVE  and WIND IT UP .... now here I was, yoddeling my nipples off in BFE. 

I was back to my fictitious rewts with this whole thing.

Lets take a moment to reflect on how wildly complicated the steps are to country themed group dancing....line up 6 deep in groups of 11, everyone 4 steps left, 3 turns to the right, find a partner, spilt into 3 groups of 2 pairs, now take 5 steps in unison to the right, dosido(?), make a bridge with your partner while the others go under, close it off and find a new partner,  now do a back flip, solve world hunger, cure cancer, then 5 steps to the left...and repeat! YEEEHAWWWW. 

yeehaw, achieved. (also I'm a man now)

4 hours into the night and Mrs. Bradshoe is reminded how the silly little world works. Wouldn't you know it, I got closure of what happened to Grande. He didn't die from Covid, moved back to NZ, transition to female, or become an accountant....as TikTok speculated....nay...

You see, being a NYC socialite, I'd been chatting with eligible bachelors at the party who took a curiosity to how a beautiful vibrant successful NYC girl in her late 50's such as myself ended up in Australia. 

After finishing my long winded story (complete with photos) and pluggin my book, one of the men recognised the former man of my dreams and began laughing.  The community is small, and he is popular enough to be well known. 

wrong film, right vibe. 

HE HAD THE TEA

There's something comforting in girl talk, especially when you find out the former love of your life is now a poppers loving sex addict in a loving relationship but mixed up in a notoriously horrible crowd of toxic people. 

And so I wondered, why not me?  I'm a sex addicted single lady who loves mixed up toxic trash more than a radioactive raccoon. .....It's the poppers isn't it?   I hear poppers and think " food" and he thinks "VCR Cleaner".   

We were never going to work out. 

Comforting the drunk mess of a human who just made my year. 

Did it culminate in a romantic happy ending? No. It ended just like the movies this city is parodying. and in that way, it feels complete. I got my yeehaw, my closure, and a haircut.

And just like that...this short weekend adventure and our story comes to a close. 

Melbourne 2: The Return

 Sex In The City 2: I Beg To See You Dance Just One More Time

<3 Tones and I

 Before you read the sequel , start with the beginning..HERE IT is this whole ass sentence and it is in yellow suddenly!   

With overwhelmingly stellar reviews from the previous film...(cries).. a trip back to shoot the sequel was a must! Last we left our sweet Ms. Bradshoe she was in the arms of the love of her life;  Señor Grande. Everything was the dream it should be! Alas, any good sequel must add a level of suspense...plus the potential for a follow up film. Flash forward a month after I've released my first short story. (lol, really), it’s time to relax and take a trip back to Melbourne. My chance to explore the city alone and give Grande a break had come (bish I’m waiting on the ring and the big ass closet). After all, distance makes the heart grow fon...

Holy shit I’m in jail. 

Of course prison is the first stop...its October and this bitch wants to get spooky (thanks Kim Petras). What better place to get creepy than Old Melbourne Gaol. The prison turned museum is wild as fuq! You can wander around each cell, which has a story to tell; complete with a selfie of the prisoner that died in it! Neat-O!... alright, it’s more of a “death mask” or bust of the prisoners face after they died.  
Deathfieeeeeee!

                 

              Totes should have smiled

Prolly should have not smiled..died with Mitch McConnell lips

Seeing the molds of their dead faces inspired me greatly. I even managed to find a beautiful Swedish person to assist in this process for when my time comes. For now, it was my duty to give these sad deadass faces a makeover....drab to fab Bradshoe style. 

“Yentl meets Sonny”

I’ve got to admit, these people were pioneers of being nuts. 

Sad sad tears of a clown

My top two psychopath makeovers are Martha the Poisoner and Frederick Deemly - both unassuming actually bad bitches. Martha grew up in a horribly abusive household and showed signs of instability, yet she was beautiful and kind!!! Props for those men who looked nothing more than skin-deep...literally killed her 3 kids, husband, and brother-in-law. #Snapped. She done already done had herses. Martha got a colorful clown treatment, cause she was clowin these dudes think'n shes not mental. 

Meanwhile, Frederick killed both his wives and children then cemented them in under the hearthstone in each of the houses he lived in. I’d imagine he had a plaque that unironically read: “Home is where the heart is”.... seriously though, who doesn’t love a handyman? Fred was later caught before his next wedding while pretending to be Baron Swanston; great alter ego mate. For Fred I chose a regal silver goatee that says "I'm tough but approachable and mature", it matched super well to some stylish contractor friendly sunglasses. Keeps the blood out of your eyes hunty. 

 Me n' Fed Oh. M. Gee. Twinsss. This 👏🏻 is👏🏻 our 👏🏻 look 👏🏻



One can’t help but wonder, in another life would Martha and Fredrick have been soul mates? 
Her: widowed, childless, sexy cook. Favorite song: Sweet But A Psycho. 
Him: Divorced, homebody, expert mason. Favorite Book: A Tell Tale Heart. #SwipedRight

I’m digressing, romance is in the air. ....OH! and I picked up a fabulous new diet: Prison body vibes

Still snooping around when BAM, my eyes meet with what is easily the best part of this little adventure...the opportunity to wear the armor of Ned Kelly (Australia’s Robinhood convict who is high key a sexy-hipster-murderer-legend). Of course the armor display was set up for children.  Ummmmmm

Won’t pass up a chance to immerse myself in a most iconic movie moment ....

Ni!!! 

...Such is life. 

My fill for creepy had been satisfied. 

I jammed to the KP  Turn off the Light album all around the city for the next 5 days blurting out incomprehensible German words and serving Petras-fied spooky hand.  

"My other hand ain't strong enough"

The hand came off more like Scary Movie without the graphics but Idgaf! 

Onward and out to explore more Melbourne: 

This was a good opportunity to see how livable the city is for me. Hell. I’m independent! I’m strong! Fuck it! I got this!!!! Independent bitch since birth, stone cold bitch to the end. 

....Basically ended up at exactly all the same spots as my last trip, living like some kind of sad widow reliving memories of the past 😂  [watch the IG story for this trip, the realness can’t be understated]. Ima weak bish.....Everywhere I looked I was reminded of those sweet fond beautiful memories of Señor Grande:

 How he humped like  a rabbit 

 That sweet shaft to ball ratio

 The orgies he loved ❤️

.....speaking of sex....We should discuss the design influences in this city. Just look at this aerial view of Albert Park....

 The lake is uncut!

....Back to my taste in men...

 Calling is always a good idea.

Him: "Hello?...Hello?.. Who is this?" *click*

 During my self induced dramatic breakdown adventure, I wandered over to the harbor. 

*shuffles playlist*

Glad I left my home in Georgia for this.

You don't hear people hype about the harbor in Melbourne like they do Sydney, yet this was pleasant to spent time around. Cool seafood spots, interesting art installations (lol did you see those balls tho), and plenty of boat activities to get into...maybe they are trying a tad hard to make this place interesting, but I'm here for it...

Still, I needed a sign. Something to use as an emotional scapegoat for my actions that both relates to water and avoids personally taking on responsibility for how I feel...*Plays Adele* 

Bingo! blame this all on the riverlee! (sp)  it's in my heart and veins tooo....

The next day I took my faultless attitude and set off for some retail therapy, checking out the shops in South Melbourne Market after popping into my fave coffeehouse Dead Man Espresso. All these knick-nacks, thingamabobbers, and people with legs...I was Ariel; losing my legless mind filling the void with cute pairs of socks.

Dis-knee 

Got  appropriate socks for 
the mermaid sock paradox

Nearby I stumbled onto the first Lotus dealership I've basically ever seen... 

Really, I have been all the fuck over and have never seen an existing dealership network for this unicorn car company. Peeking inside, you can see they are host to other notoriously high power to low weight ratio fun to drive vehicles. Not mad about it.

A great day of shopping had done the trick. I am renewed, refreshed, and rejuvenated. "You hear that? Rejuvenated. He was juvenated before, lost it....and got juvinated agian. Rejuvenated!" (if you know this movie quote you're likely my future husband) 

My new found sense of self came with some excellent tips for putzing around Melbourne... if you want a truly incredible Airbnb, book one in Australia 108 - one of the tallest buildings in Australia. The lux building was totally fit for my alter ego Bradshoe...as the 2nd bedroom served its purpose well as my dream walk-in closet.  Great amenities, awesome gym, and the location was prime for walking to the markets, casino and shopping. look at the valet....all...of...the..lights (all of the lights) *Kanye Voice* 

Hands down the best restaurant I tried on this trip was Eazy Peazy in Richmond. Thank you Stephen, George, and Mark (my "Sharlet, Samanthuh and Mirandah")...Go for the tasting menu, you won't be disappointed. Must try this awesome sake too when you wander in there.

Forget what you heard. The fox says nothing.  It just stares menacingly 

Why a man great till, they gotta tolerate my quest for further introspective into the developmental stages of Jungs Anima and Animus through immersion into this fictitious saga  OR WHATEVER LIZZO SAYS

*dramatization. 

Melbourne

 Sex In The City:

My only two Australian dreams, that I made up on the flight over, were to see kangaroos and be driving on the "wrong" side of the road: Dream bigger, Chris.... literally accomplished both of those things leaving the airport. FUCK! there was a massive field of kangaroos  hanging out like cows and horses in the Midwest US. Was it time to turn around and go home? Had my dreams for this country been too unimaginative? Could this be an opportunity to parody and over use my favorite meme/show?

*cue fade into Sex In The City parody*

 My alter ego

We met our heroine Setdown Bradshoe with Señor Grande at an appropriately trendy bar called Naked for Satan. The bar didn’t actually allow for nudity, though was playing host to some stag parties, making for great people watching. Nothing like a flock of drunk hetero dudes dressed as nurses following around Ali G.

           

While chatting Señor gave me his run down on Melbourne. He said it's interesting (NOT REALLY, BECAUSE THIS IS HAPPENS IN EVERY BIG CITY) in that you have the most povo people living next to the most posh. The houses are mishmashes of historic looking row-homes and modern skyscrapers. Overall, my perception is Melbourne is not unlike NYC or LA, yet is not as filthy, congested, or cramped....only slightly less "going" on and fewer celebs.

Carlton Gardens aka "Central Park"

On my to -do  list?  Melbourne Museum (creative name). Easy to adore the exhibits, hella friendly staff, and rooms on rooms of neat thingamabobs... the building itself was a work of Art. They did a fantastic job at showcasing Australian history under one roof. Beyond these walls, you can stumble right into the royal exhibition and a really pretty park.(I strolled about the “Central Park” serving my best Bradshoe lewks)

Everyday is runway

         This made me want calamari

"Smile for the camera beautiful" - Literally Nobody

...yes, you ca tell by the obnoxious colors those are my gals- Sharlet, Samanthuh and Mirandah

Here we see Samanthuh next to the only thing wetter than her in this park

I elected to skip the royal exhibition and instead ended up in a library...Some of us just like to read..
                               

The library was neato. I found myself amongst all of histories greatest works, and so I wondered....is smelling all of these great pieces of literature as impacting as reading them?  (Also what makes the “book” smell?)

didn’t actually touch many of those leather bound beauties, I was amped up on pre-workout and had no patience to sit still long enough to soak up a story. Instead I took in the serenity that comes from watching hundreds of people sitting quietly...moving only to find more books. You'd think the monsters from A Quiet Place were the librarians.

Spring time in Australia means temps were cold enough that shorts were just not an option, and that’s literally all I packed (Living in Hawaii means I do not own pants). What’s a girl to do? Onward to ....THE MALL. Well, a mall. Melbourne Central (again, creative names): so-so shopping selection in an amazing center with an old bullet making tower in it, which is very tits. The shopping was limited because fashion here seems a few decades behind the US (they LOVE RL), but this location has blocks of stores and stores and stores with ramen and more stores.

I was cool with all these stores and ramen.

Lookin like a big ol brick dick in a glass con-dome.

  It's Bradshoes job to leave a bit of aspirational fashion sense behind and move on.I popped into the closest lululemon to show off my aloha branded “honolululemon”, and scope out any AU specific designs...*sigh* none.

Living in Hawaii has exposed me to a ton of Australian tourists:  when they saw on IG that I was bopping around their home, I was swarmed with messages on ideas for things to see, people to bang,  and places to go. Ya damn right I’m gonna follow all these leads! Next up, The Shrine of Remembrance: a monumental way to honor those who have fallen in battle. *I'm not crying, you’re crying*. Seriously, I can never go to these things and not take on the role of weeping like a widow of the fallen. 

On my way to that shrine, an absolutely massive banner for the National Gallery of Victoria was promoting an exhibition for Terracotta Warriors! As a reporter that I am not, I have done like 6 different research projects on those warriors and this was my first chance to see them in person - I went for it right from the shrine! The size of the exhibit left me underwhelmed, even though it was complex, but thanks to Snapchat I got some super cute pics:

     

Here's me posing next to the fuckboy who told me he would change.

That entirely satisfactory bitch of a day ended with me singing Funky Cold Medina with some Greek lady working at GoodysBurger. She slayed it. Was this my new gal pal? No, she lacked that stable Mirandah energy that is missing from my life. 

An outfit as stylish as these buildings.

Back at my apartment that night I struggled greatly with trying to figure out how the oven worked...(ON BRAND IF YOU KNOW ME)...I sent out an SOS on my IG and was helped along by one very domestic hero I know only as Ibuffy_.

The next day was much the same. Took a walk in St Kilda. for botanical gardens and to the beach to freeze myself in the water, because bitches love beaches. Then had a super cute lunch with myself at  Pontoon, which is a tasty waterfront kind of place.

  

The water was fuckin coooooooold!

Later I would get a message from Señor Grande about “an immersive theater experience in homage to Edgar Allen Poe being held in a 36 room abandoned warehouse”. Whuat!? *picture of a demon king in ballpit* ...sold! 

This experience was called A Midnight Visit...an Edgar Allen Poe themed mutli-room esacpe-room-esque fun house, and cool as hell doesn’t even begin to describe it. We started off with drinks while we waited then basically you choose your own adventure as you wander through this maze of rooms. You can happen into a room that’s empty and two seconds later is flooded with actors dressed in period correct costumes playing guitars, giving poetry realness, and singing randomly...or it would just be an empty room. The excitement of not knowing what was coming was all part of the charm. We had a kick ass time in the ball pit, crawled through some tunnels, I watched Señor Grande get involved in a semi sexual game of Simon says with Edgar Allen Poe and then ended up in a big ass sandbox where I found me some booty - in the pirate kind of way. The whole thing ends in a ballroom where all the actors come together and sing Lovefool by the Cardigans..JUST LIKE IN HOTFUZZ. If I had one phrase to described what it was like watching them sing "love me, love me, say that you love me" while hauling good ol Egadr off in a coffin amidst blasts from confetti cannons... Fuckin mint.              

           

         

The next day was just as awesome. Met Señor Grande for a mysterious show on the waterfront of the Crowne Casino. He would not tell me anything about why we were there or outside, only warning me that if I did not like it that I should lie and tell him I liked it 🤣 no need to lie, the show was great. The whole strip of the waterfront was lined with these huge rectangular metal pillars that began shooting massive fireballs into the air. Like out of nowhere just tons of heat and fire. 

                  

I swear I was so happy that smile stuck to my face for an hour. 

....the next few days flew by. I got up to my usual routine of gym, parks, dinner, Grande, dinner, dinner, dinner, dinner, dinner, I ate like the monster in spirited away 🤣 Grande and I tried out the gay scene, which was composed of decidedly normal looking men. It wasn’t the plastic pretty boys of LA nor the trendy leather bound circuit queens of NY, no, these were plain people that looked like you went to high school with them. Was actually a bit odd not to be lost in a sea of on-point eyebrows and dewy Mario Badescu faces.......no matter, this was a GREAT time....until we ran into the only other American and were inundated by her rant on all the reasons she moved from her small town in Texas to be a big city lesbian in Melbourne - even the young gay in me would say you’re like florals in spring.

 Wait, wrong film.

all of the yes

Emerald City Realness

do, do , do.... just a ho-ass girl in a big city

      

     

       

Neon nonsense

The world needs more doughnut memorials 

All was excellent, and on my last night we had these killerish dumplings. Well, most of them were killer, one or two of them sucked. Okay, most of them sucked. ...None the less, this place was BYOB and between the two of us, bringing a bottle of champagne and two bottles of wine was too much. 

SO CUTE I CANT DEAL

In my spur of the moment friendless towards strangers I managed to unload a rosè on a very funny lesbian and her Polish work wife who were seated next to us- this was excellent because they then ended up coming with us to Berlin bar. Berlin bar has a very neat vibe. Bathtub full of pillows, bunk beds, lots of nods to German history and an absolutely massive portrait of Joseph Stalin.

Four of us sitting here having a nice international pissing contest: America,Poland, Netherlands, and one other place lol boozy memory.

The kind Polish woman (on the right) gave us a try of some post dinner shots that were a tradition for her culture, these were meant to cleanse the pallet and calm your stomach. Instead they tasted like eating an actual cigarette and chasing it with vinegar. Oh well! We had an awesome time hanging out with these girls.  They talked and talked while we... *photoshoot time*

We are adorbs

                   
All was good! I flew out the following afternoon with the only thing on my mind being the concept of an actual "whore island" but with trains ... if anyone has passing interest in this idea, let me know! 

                      Prototype:

Trains on trains

..... Ah, paradise




     Reviews:   IMBD: .5 /10     Rotten Tomatoe: .08%    

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