My Russian Bride. (Advertorial)

Please allow me to run this little ad…

FOR SALE. Single Russian Bride, 21 years old, never married. Is keen to marry me, or so she claims. A diligent e-mailer. Sends many photos. Likes to cook and read. Is wild in love but a lady, socially. Willing to immigrate to Australia for love. Writes and speaks good English. Is educated and works for a very good Marketing firm in Moscow. Claims to be very warm in Winter and always very friendly.

SOLD?
I for one, believe her. She does look very warm. She has asked me to pay her air fair and suggested she can come live with me. How considerate of her. The only problem is, that I get the feeling that if you are willing to pay her air fair and the such, she might be willing to marry you and immigrate to Australia for love too!! That’s soooo good of her. I must say she does have a way of making one feel... very special?! Perhaps any interested parties could share her air fair with me. We could syndicate her. I will offer to put her up at my place. One of us might want to marry her!? She may perhaps be very fun and we could share her?!!

Simply email me here to confirm your interest!!

Please forward this email to possible interested parties.

Only serious offers need apply.
Let’s do this!!
The bidding starts NOW!
She seems like a very nice girl…

Ashton House

Had a great night last night. Did a photo shoot in Ashton House. It's this heritage listed mansion in Elizabeth Bay, above Bare Park, near the house called Boomerang or there bouts.



It sits on top of a dark and ominous grassy hill...

Soooo spooky...

We climb the forgotten relics of old sandstone terraces to gain entry to the grounds.

The whole building is locked, except a set of French doors that are jammed shut by an ornate marble table.

We push hard on the doors, the table eventually sliding aside behind them, dragging along the timber floorboards. Inside, all is black, we could hardly see a thing, only shadows, shadows that move. Shadows that peer at you from out the corner of your eye. Shadows grabbing your attention, when you really don't want them to. All is impeccably quiet in the centre of bustling Sydney City. How strange to not hear, anything...

A cool light breeze flows off the nearby harbour.

Scratching scurrying rats like elephants with teeth and claws. My friend, she screams. Coooing pigeons. Going ballistic low over out heads. Pigeon shite everywhere. Flapping, tattered sheets of black roof cover, out side of darkened windows hiding in every corner. "I don't like rats! I really don't like rats," she says. Four stories of endless grand derelict 160 year old architecture to get lost in.

Our heart skippin beats and racing...

Oh you gotta love it.

Will have to post some photos when they are developed.

Surely to have images of past dead inhabitants of Ashton house etched in the emulsion.