Six months ago I bought an $800 car- a dusty red Charade manufactured back when Paul Keating was Prime Minister. I dubiously christened her “Cherry Bomb”. She was bought from a fellow in Darlington. From there, Cherry travelled nine kilometres before having a hot flush and overheating on a busy road, ultimately forcing me to … Continue reading Fleurgen the Stereo Muppet
I do a lot of stupid shit when I’m drunk. A few months ago I placed a restriction on myself: it’s fine to get mildly tiddled with friends and make devastatingly clever and funny insights about human nature at achingly hip bars that none of us have any business being in, but it’s not okay … Continue reading He’s cute like a frog.
Prague doesn't like me. It's the only explanation. I had high hopes for this city: medieval, cheap, beautiful, and, as many a traveller proclaimed, fantastic nightlife. Prague was going to bathe me in Budějovický and wash the homesickness away. I book into the Madhouse Hostel- a promised home away from home with beer pong. I … Continue reading Prague