STRAY is about random adventure and escape. STRAY is about pretending that Perth is Ferris Bueller's Day Off and that fun and money aren't mutually exclusive. STRAY is cheap hijinx, cheap dates and the outings you could be planning while you're actually watching Video Hits on a weekend at 11am.
Spring cleaning to me usually means that end of year bracket to try to redeem myself. Out goes all abandoned hobbies, unfinished projects and never-started new years resolutions - you know what I'm talking about; un-rolled yoga mats, non-refurbished chairs and cracked DIY ceramics - and in comes twelve tomato plants, a hose and a worm farm (that's ‘vermicompost', for those in the know).
Personally, I choose not to shave. It's tedious, painful and makes me look like some kind of prepubescent bootlicker. Instead, I opt for a perpetual shadow of closely cropped growth. However, my sense of curiosity often outweighs my sense of better judgement, which is how I found myself being shaved by a girl.
Now that the bandages are slowly peeling off Northbridge's facelift and the swelling is going down after the punch of losing favourites like Harry Highpants and LaLaOrange, William St is starting to look pretty hot again. How hot? Well, there's a new cultural space, a Bird that's deffo learnt how to fly and a neato café not gladwrapped in commercial stink.
Every now and then I get a little misty eyed and wish I'd devoted my life to solving crimes rather than office admin. Telling the chief to shuttup and look at the results I was bringing in rather than the number of innocents I had shot dead would be waaaay more interesting than memorising excel formulas.
Lovers come, lovers go. Some you never want to see again, others take off for years then fall back in your arms like nothing's changed. The Bakery falls into the latter category. Our baby's been MIA for the past 18 months, leaving us to scrape the barrel, longing for decent music venues that aren't either closing down, just plain closed, or on their way to becoming clones of The Brisbane.
Those Gen X moustached fellas and Farrah-flicked sheilas of Don's Party knew how to do it. Hard liquor, sleaze, and disillusionment were the core ingredients of an awesome election night party. So in an election campaign that's been boring as batshit, we need something to get us in the mood for 'democracy at work'.
There's something life-affirming about the Rounds project. By "life-affirming" I mean it's like life; it is at once an awesome, childish party that is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking, and an eventual taking-to task of any intellectual or personal laziness.
There's temptation to say, "and I didn't even do anything.
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