Minor Adjustments

Er… Fellow gobblers, I bring tidings of badness. You recall my motto? WOM? Yes, that one. Well, I’m afraid that we may have to adjust that (and this stupid ‘posh’ accent).

Okay, so have you guys been womming? Heaps? Great. Keep doing so. Actually, don’t.

STOP ALL WOMMING.

I must say, I can’t really allow womming if I’ve just revealed who I truly am. What do you think? Comment. Below. Because I can’t reveal myself to everyone. Just my fellow gobblers. Otherwise, who knows? I could end up on the front of the Sydney Morning Herald as “THE G******”. And wouldn’t that be a shame.

Live from the 325

So, I am currently sitting on the bus and blogging. There’s a pretty old lady sitting behind me. Chatting on the phone LOUDLY.

“Yes, I’ll get the inflatable beach balls.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh yes… I know, those rather awful ones… They never quite inflate!”

“How many? 450? Okay.”

“Does she want yellow or blue?”

“Yes, yellow is rather understated, isn’t it?”

“Alright. Goodbye Gertrude.”

Isn’t it the middle of winter? Er….