Well freeze my nipples into a north-pointing direction but, maaaan, if this town has not got itself damn chilly.
If any person is still stuck on the image of Australia being all desert, sunburn and showering in a bucket from water restrictions, just visit ye ol’ Melbs in winter.
Temperatures range from ‘sun with icicle-packing wind’, to ‘damn chilly’ to ‘fkc-me-a-kangaroo-just-ice-skated-past’ cold. With everything drenched in a light coat of damp.
And the locals just point and laugh and say things like “Just wait till winter has really set in! Then you’ll see cold! Mate” while they sit back and suck on cheese-fried chicken parmas and pots of VB.
But we’re not here to talk about the weather.
Why the hell is shoulder-humping Justin Bieber baby-baby-baby’ing every time I hit the television’s “mindnumb ON” switch?
And why did my age group not get to scream, faint, swoon, clutch at close-up posters, & go basic nuts over some half-arsed singer?
A little too young for Jason Donovan (who never visited anyway).
A little too old for the Hanson Three. Who are now married with several kids & a mortgage.
To be fair, that Justin kid is quite cute. The thing is, the age difference means I could’ve bred him myself.
Damned if this cold doesn’t freeze your brain into “Bizarre”. At least I know which way north is.