This will hurt me...

There has been some pretty shocking weather today: hot, incredibly windy, dusty, and - worst of all - smoky because of some bushfires around the state. You can see the effect on the view from Salamanca Place across Sullivan's Cove to Hunter Street. I have a theory about hairdressers that involves an elaborate and sophisticated system of overlapping and interlocking – yet deviously independent – plans, plots and cunning schemes to perpetuate the greatest hoax on humankind since that whole notion of New Coke (what a gyp that was). No, I’m talking about the tendency to shamelessly exploit the vanity of women by lobbing on a thirty percent tariff for seemingly having the temerity to even walk into a salon. No, that’s an everyday garden variety scam . What I am talking about is something far more sinister , and ultimately, something far more dangerous . You may well be familiar with the concept of the Große Lüge , or – if you like – the 'Big Lie'. The Große Lüge concerns a ...

There are so many alternatives. There is blue, there is black. There is walking, there is running. There is fish, there is door. There seems to be nothing left to the imagination. Occasionally, even though I am so very tired, I find it difficult to sleep at night. Sometimes it is because it is too quiet. Sometimes. Sometimes it is too loud, but sometimes it is too quiet. Sometimes boys (and sometimes girls) ride their skateboards past my house. I have two pairs of trousers that seem somewhat confused; they cannot seem to decide if they would rather be trousers or shorts, so somewhere about the middle they stop. Frankly, this causes me no end of worry. I forget things all the time. Big hats. Big hats don't mean anything to me these days. I remember... blue. Sometimes socks never come back. I have never pretended to understand women. I think that I'll sleep tonight.