In this mystery of Scooby-Doo proportions,the least likely suspect had thrown me off the scent.
This isn’t to write in defence of some numpty who thought buggering up London’s mass transit system was the first step to ecological salvation.
The Queensland Premier was never one to threaten the system,despite that photo you keep seeing of her at a"rally"in the 1980s.
You never hear about greedy landlords gouging start-up businesses for everything they can get.
Time has run out for that ominous butler voice at the end of the phone.
Leena van Deventer’s Twitter thread on Australian cities as house party guests you never want to meet is both perfect,and begging to be stolen.
A lot of the sorrow of the world grows from stupid,unthinking reactions by idiot blokes who think themselves entirely in the right when they are completely in the wrong.
By the afternoon I had that giddy,head-spinning pleasure,and would shortly regret it.
If you hold on to a phone long enough,you start to develop this perverse attachment to your tired old piece of crap.
The defence of George Pell is not a fight for truth or righteousness - it is simply a continuation of politics by other means.
Not changing your underpants happens to all sorts of fellows. Astronauts. Polar explorers. The bloke who doesn't feel like walking to the cupboard.