Melbourne: The Secret Wardrobe Piss

Good DAY to you sir,

I say, it is quite the downpour outside. It is positively tropical, and it is certainly very noisy as I sit here alone a-typing in northern Melbourneo, because I live in a converted warehouse, and the roof is made of tin or some other noisy metal; may the lord protect us if it hails. My bedroom is steadily flooding from some unseen leak as I type this and I do not know what to do so I have evacuated to the kitchen table, which has a marvellous view of the Queen Victoria Market and the skyscrapers of the Central Business District. I ate a bacon, egg and sausage sandwich for breakfast. I have not been drunk or had a cigarette in two days. I am doing tremendously, old chap. Continue reading