Last night (probably) in the Urban Orchard, after bouncy Stonehenge. This must have been what it was like for prehistoric cave-dwellers, watching the sun set: will it rise again? “The lamps are going out,” I wept into my $9 pale ale in a plastic cup. Krazy Kym knew what I meant. And, as if to mark the moment, there was a spew waiting for us when we got on the train. An outraged older bloke called Transperth and demanded someone deal with it, but they missed us at Claisebrook.
And the cringe is back on. Anon., Poor Lisa et al have already discussed this. Is it really news, and do they get all excited in Toronto or Cape Town or Dayton, OH, when something nice is written about them?