In todays rant, cue the music of harps...
Thoughts on my move to Melbourne. Ive been here a little while now and am slowly getting used to the whole this city isnt Sydney thing. Here are some of my thoughts. Due to my complete inability to communicate telepathically with anyone I will write these thoughts down.
Melbourne inner city, I have to admit, fucking rocks. I still miss my Newtown though, but shit the live bands are blowing me away!
I hate the public transport. I thought Sydney was bad. Nuff said.
I am still trying to get my head around everything. I even believe some people are warming to me. Now only 99% of the people I have met hate me.
Melbournes graf shits all over Sydneys hands down, no fucking contest.
Giant 3.5 metre crocs dont like Melbourne.
Melbourne is very cold. This is how the beer in my fridge feels all the time. Speaking of which, I think I need to stop drinking, my liver feels bloated.
Cranbourne is mind dessicatingly dull. My goodness, its so fucking boring. They should have a sign on the freeway, Welcome to Cranbourne, just keep driving. Theres only two pubs. A fake colonial style pub called the settlement bar, which is surprising dull for a place that sells intoxicating liquor. What it lacks for in drinkers is made up by an impressive array of gay Daleks. The other one 2 kms away is a fake Irish themed pub imaginatively called, wait for it... Kellys. I have yet to see anyone of Irish extraction behind the bar. This place sells overpriced beer & food and is generously appointed with about 10,000 pokie machines dwarfing the Settlement bars offering of about 5000. Day & night punters of all ages come to say goodbye to their hard earned cash or government benefits as the case may be. Bills of all denominations feed the hungry slots while slack jawed faces leer at garish screens. The punters sit quietly and with zombie like movements press the blinking buttons, the last of their pensions or pay ebbing in a fanfare of colourful flashing lights.
Im starting to look for a place which I hope happens sooner rather than later. Cranbourne is the very antithesis of the smart culture which Melbourne is renown for.
Im hitting the town tomorrow so Im looking forward to some fun & intelligent conversation with my mate Mikie, which Im sorely missing.
Anywho, thanks to anyone who reads this I'll leave you with a song.
Thoughts on my move to Melbourne. Ive been here a little while now and am slowly getting used to the whole this city isnt Sydney thing. Here are some of my thoughts. Due to my complete inability to communicate telepathically with anyone I will write these thoughts down.
Melbourne inner city, I have to admit, fucking rocks. I still miss my Newtown though, but shit the live bands are blowing me away!
I hate the public transport. I thought Sydney was bad. Nuff said.
I am still trying to get my head around everything. I even believe some people are warming to me. Now only 99% of the people I have met hate me.
Melbournes graf shits all over Sydneys hands down, no fucking contest.
Giant 3.5 metre crocs dont like Melbourne.
Melbourne is very cold. This is how the beer in my fridge feels all the time. Speaking of which, I think I need to stop drinking, my liver feels bloated.
Cranbourne is mind dessicatingly dull. My goodness, its so fucking boring. They should have a sign on the freeway, Welcome to Cranbourne, just keep driving. Theres only two pubs. A fake colonial style pub called the settlement bar, which is surprising dull for a place that sells intoxicating liquor. What it lacks for in drinkers is made up by an impressive array of gay Daleks. The other one 2 kms away is a fake Irish themed pub imaginatively called, wait for it... Kellys. I have yet to see anyone of Irish extraction behind the bar. This place sells overpriced beer & food and is generously appointed with about 10,000 pokie machines dwarfing the Settlement bars offering of about 5000. Day & night punters of all ages come to say goodbye to their hard earned cash or government benefits as the case may be. Bills of all denominations feed the hungry slots while slack jawed faces leer at garish screens. The punters sit quietly and with zombie like movements press the blinking buttons, the last of their pensions or pay ebbing in a fanfare of colourful flashing lights.
Im starting to look for a place which I hope happens sooner rather than later. Cranbourne is the very antithesis of the smart culture which Melbourne is renown for.
Im hitting the town tomorrow so Im looking forward to some fun & intelligent conversation with my mate Mikie, which Im sorely missing.
Anywho, thanks to anyone who reads this I'll leave you with a song.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
platypuz:
Umm i reckon it was the late 90's,i moved to Erskineville then.
wolfwood1203:
Ha, well I appreciate the sentiment anyway. Thanks man.