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A Moustache-Protecting Soup-Spoon // Filed under: Life on Friday June 23rd 2006, 7:34 pm Seriously. Sheffield, oh Sheffield, will wonders never cease. Also, we’re alive and safe and well in the mother country. Also, Yorkie bars are singularly disappointing. I mean, seriously. // 3 Comments 
// Filed under: Life on Sunday June 18th 2006, 8:45 pm Tomorrow night, at 10.10 pm, Simon and I will be on a flight to the land of the forefathers, the land of the fried mars bar, the chav, the chavette and the red buses - the United Kingdom. I’ve got nothing coherent to say. Seriously. I’m very excited. Everything’s all organised. Everything’s pretty much packed. It’s just waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. British pound notes are weird. They’re taller than proper Australian notes, and they don’t quite fit in my wallet. And they’re made of paper as well. Paper. I can tear them. With my hands. I feel uneasy about this. And frankly, I judge the entire British nation on it. That’s right, you’re all weak. And oddly-sized. You heard me. Also, your exchange rate makes me cringe. Cringe. It’s a good thing I don’t spend a lot of money here because goddamn, I’m certain I will be over there. Ouch, I says. Still, tax return comes in soon. That should be delicious, in as much as a lump sum of money can be said to have a taste. I saw the weirdest thing yesterday. Walking through the city with friends, one of whom was wearing a Collingwood scarf. As we passed a group of goths, they erupted into raucous laughter and derisive anti-Collingwood jeers. Goths. Laughing at someone else’s football alleigances. Goths. Don’t they know their kind gets regularly beaten up by football players? I wasn’t sure whether to laugh long and hard (which I did anyway) or to congratulate them on their diehard Australian sport-lust. Which is apparently strong enough to survive repeated punching by football players. I should have asked them to explain this enigma. Assuming I could have got past the girl dressed in a home-made, tattered nurses uniform with streaked mascara and with piercings around her eyes in places I didn’t even know you could pierce. And oh man. Borders have opened a store in Perth. With a coffee shop in it. I disapprove of it in principle, as I do of all multinational chains sinking a tentacle-claw into my delightful local market. But man. That place is pretty. Very, very pretty. So there we go. Only 23 hours left in this wide brown land. Two weeks from hence, I return, to rapturous cheers and applause. And to the imminent arrival of my very favourite lady from Sydney, whom, it should be noted, deserves a thorough spanking. Peace out, folks. See you in the motherland. // 7 Comments
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