i promised nudity. i deliver. bumbling home after a few drinks out, one block from my hotel, i saw this very relaxed and very nude gentleman doing paperwork and having a blast in his first floor office.

as to the rest of the week, talk about going out with a whimper. what was to be a week of self-guided adventure in the great barrier reef was instead spent exploring my hotel room's bathroom with a drawn out case of food poisoning.

this creepy thing (garden? cemetary? prison?) was the only evidence on my camera from an otherwise fun and non-creepy dancing outing in the city's "gritty" kings cross district. moments later, i was munching down on the killer kebab, and the rest is history. dehydration, dementia, and something nastier beginning with a 'd' occupied me for the next several days.

okay, so i had to cancel my plans to leave the city, but it wasn't all that bad. there was a brief lull in porcelin worship where i managed to sneak out with some new coworker-friends to see lcd soundsystem.

the show was great; an intimate venue. man can james murphy scream his little heart out and then bang the shit out of some timbales.

the evening concluded with a delicious meal of oporto's chicken sandwiches. the best way to describe this place is to compare the reaction of the native aussies i was with to a california ex-pat getting his first in-n-out in a long time: same thing, and quite justified based on my sampling.

my coworker's excellent 63rd floor guest apartment.

so, the last week tuned out to be a much less exciting summary of the first two. not complaining, but it is time for a travel break. i miss my decks.