Tell me I'm on mute As if I didn't know that I'm blowing my nose

I'm writing this note of gratitude for you. Not the you, who is reading this and isn't the person I'm talking to. But for you, the cafe owner who let it slide today. When I transgressed. It was 8am. Today. And I was just

I'd like to acknowledge the following organisations for their support, whether indirect or direct, express or implicit, benevolent or malignant: * Alternate Prayer Network * Training bra anti defamation league * Pillow Recycling Research and Development Network * Coles Myer Minority Shareholders * Centre for Excellence in Inexplicable Stains * The Associated Hyperbaric Chamber

INT. Lecture theatre. Day. The head of Hutchison ‘Hunch’ Hinchcliffe pops out from behind a lectern at the front of an empty lecture theatre. Empty, that is, aside from a forensics team surrounding a body on the floor. Hunch OK. Case closed. Detective Jane D'Angelo Hunch, quit screwing

These are the rules of the man challenge. 1. Definition: a ‘man challenge’ is when a man looks at another man who in public and the eyes of the two men meet. 2. Definition 2: ‘another man’ is a man the first man does not know. 3. In the event

I think I could write a book about being a teenage pickup artist, and this is an excerpt of that yet (as yet aspirational) book. It’s only a coincidence that this piece of writing takes the name of one of the pickup artists from The Game, which I have

Good time If you’re looking for a good time* call 0456 426 599. *Please note that my definition of good time may differ from yours. For me, a good time includes: * you using good grammar and not mixing metaphors; * me correcting you when you use bad grammar and mix

10:30am, AEST A playground in Melbourne’s western suburbs. Only the loudest and most frequency-extreme sounds can be heard over the drone of the air conditioners pumping exhaust fumes from the car park into the nearby shopping centre. A small child is running. Away from his mother. I’m

AAA Laundrette I’ve always loved laundromats. But I’ll never call them laundrettes, because feminism. I have called them that before, but I won’t. Not any more. I found a new one this morning. There was a guy out front, putting coins into parking meters. One, two, then