David came to stay for 3 days, at the end of his summer in Melbourne, before he heads back north. He's finished his new age guru shit, and the sycophants are happy, from all accounts. Preaching to the converted and all that, how hard can it be? He's now planning for next years summer time guru festival, roughly translated as the money making machine
Then he sits around at our place feeding her fat face like Jabba The Hut with every chocolate product known to man, drinking triple shot coffees. Then he is washing pain medication down constantly with any number of bottles of chardonnay. Oh yes, New Age spirituality, indeed. All the while he is telling me that he usually practises intermittent fasting, its just that we don't get to see it. The only thing I see him doing intermittently is sniffing up a nicotine spray, curiously, since he hasn't smoked since we were pups together on the party scene.
"If you have finished everything, why aren't you getting on a plane and going home?" I ask.
"Shut up," he says. "Aren't I allowed a little downtime before I have to pack everything up for the trip home. I've worked my fingers to the bone."
"Luv, you have worked 3 weekends."
"And I am exhausted."
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