Do you want to know a secret? Of course you do. Everyone does. Today my father saw a dead man hanging from a tree. How's that for an auspicious beginning to the new year? I'm sorry, you'd probably prefer I were lighthearted. Let's begin again.
You see here, annonymous and potentially non-existant reader, my reaction to this unsettling event, that being the launching of my wisdom into cyberspace. A new year, a start to university, and now a new blog. Don't worry, there's still time to run. While it's been a holiday season of midnight swims in summer swelters, love, loss, excessive alcohol consumption and frequent bear shark attacks, I'm actually not dreading re-entering the real world. University offers loom and the stasis we school leavers have been trapped in is about to end. Life beckons.
I wonder, do you ever watch Dr Phil? It was with guilty pleasure that I spent an afternoon on the couch today, engrossed in the problems of his gun-toting, convenience store robbing patients. I think it is his moustache that does it. It's hard not to trust a person with such an incredible moustache but so little hair anywhere else. A moustache like that can only be for hiding secrets in. I can't help but be reminded of Dixon Bainbridge. Do you see now, why this blog is a necessity? If you cannot drag me from my dull existance, at the very least I might drag you into it.
You see here, annonymous and potentially non-existant reader, my reaction to this unsettling event, that being the launching of my wisdom into cyberspace. A new year, a start to university, and now a new blog. Don't worry, there's still time to run. While it's been a holiday season of midnight swims in summer swelters, love, loss, excessive alcohol consumption and frequent bear shark attacks, I'm actually not dreading re-entering the real world. University offers loom and the stasis we school leavers have been trapped in is about to end. Life beckons.
I wonder, do you ever watch Dr Phil? It was with guilty pleasure that I spent an afternoon on the couch today, engrossed in the problems of his gun-toting, convenience store robbing patients. I think it is his moustache that does it. It's hard not to trust a person with such an incredible moustache but so little hair anywhere else. A moustache like that can only be for hiding secrets in. I can't help but be reminded of Dixon Bainbridge. Do you see now, why this blog is a necessity? If you cannot drag me from my dull existance, at the very least I might drag you into it.
The delights of daytime television aside, you can expect to hear from me every few weeks. Until I lose interest in you, that is. For now, may you be blessed with Lenin's charisma, Trotsky's genuis and Stalin's... well, you get the idea.
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