Australia: Pig in the City (that’s a Babe 2 reference by the way, I’m not dubbing myself a pig, shhhh)

Hello you sparkly bastard,

I’m afraid today’s must be a short entry only, for I am quite preoccupied with this hectic business of carving a life out of the sandstone that is Melbourne; I say sandstone over any other rock because, like sandstone, it’s seems the case that the moment you get it hewn into a satisfactory shape, it falls apart. But let’s start at… oh, I don’t know, the beginning, shall we? We can adhere to convention just this once; it’ll be our little secret. Continue reading

Australia: Rebellion

Right I’ve just had a big big coffee and I’m feeling a little zapped and I have spent the last fifteen seconds trying to think of a good introduction for this article (diary entry? Oh how I loathe the term ‘post’) but I couldn’t think of anything witty enough; I considered starting out with a humorous gothic horror parody where I envision you sitting in a darkened country mansion with me approaching the door draped in a sodden overcoat and drooping hat and declaring I had a dark tale to tell – I thought it seemed quite clever – but I’ve started entries in a similar manner before and it isn’t original enough for my mood, and so rather than begin this entry in such a style, I have instead opted to do this – that is, to waffle on without achieving anything at all for, oh, about one hundred and fifty words. Continue reading