Cropdusting Hipsters

It all started when I farted in yoga. It happened once, twice, three times a lady flatulist. Not many girls own up to a fart, so at first I pretended that the pop was simply a wayward hip joint being wrenched from its socket like a newly-weaned, puppy farm kelpie. It kept happening though: every class I'd cropdust … Continue reading Cropdusting Hipsters

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Fleurgen the Stereo Muppet

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