Welcome to los new menfolk readers! To prove La’s hospitality, here’s some blokespeak for you: Ice Road Truckers! Bunnings! Knock on! Ducting! Sarking! 106 not out!
Speaking of blokes, opened the male Junior Cost Centre’s (JCC’s) briefcase earlier this week to see what he’s stashing.
It contained every dead gadget to be found beneath the dusty rafters of Palazzo Trivialista, plus a $20 note (the origins of which are dubious at best), Harry Potter specs, a ceramic dog, a compass, a taekwondo award and handcuffs. Draw your own conclusions.
He’s been getting up to a bit of this:
…so he can fund a bit of this:
Yes, Triv took him to the Flodge to spend his hard-earned busking spondoolies. And spend he did. (Wonder whom he gets that from?)
The female JCC has also been earning her keep.
…so she can run away from home.
It’s been a tough week for those of us in the Harbour City. We need to squeeze loin fruits and Signor Seriousimos hard right now. And enjoy life’s bounteous gifts, such as…
Tetsuya’s oysters. And…
…the ever-increasing spunkiness of Richard Glover. Dang! Only an officially middle-aged straight woman or gay man would actually type that sentence.
Plus, delicious meals cooked by friends. (You know who you are, AP!)
Wacky local doors that lead to nowhere.
IKEA signs that associate your friend Marius with toilet matters. *Cue Mutley snigger*
Super-close proximity to Damon Albarn at the Sydney Opera House.
Wine gifts from good friends, especially when it’s come straight from the fecund Provencal vines of Brangelina.