spotscoob

Wrapped in scarfs and winter threads, the two of us sat on those airport seats. A return flight to Perth awaited you and a weekend escape to Sydney was ready for my carry on baggage. This unspoken silence chilled our spines, the unknown uncertainty of what existed beyond our four days of intertwined romance, chattered […]

howtolooseaguyin10grindermessages

It’s 4 p.m. on a Sunday afternoon. You went home alone in a taxi on a Saturday night for the 3rd consecutive weekend in a row and watched your coupled friends affectionately frolic off into the night sky through the cabs rear view mirror. You’ve just completed brunch with two of your girls and on your walk […]

coverflamingo

Runnin’ by David Dallas invigorates my ear lobes; a horizon of open road immersed in bush is in my view as my calves’ pound tarseal roads.  My RunKeeper activity interrupts the tracks motion, time 33 minutes, distance 6.8 kilometres, average pace 4.54 minutes per kilometre.  A smirk of achievement overcomes me, in this moment I’m […]

ihaveablackdogblog

They say a man’s best friend is his dog, growing up I had canine companions through my entire childhood and at age 13 I met my fathers black dog. It was a rather startling revelation to discover that someone who was always so together, so driven, so inspirational and so assured suffered from depression. This […]

saturnreturnblog

It’s 1am and it’s been a wet night of torrential rain. You’ve just finished celebrating your mate’s first home purchase, said a ghetto goodbye to your number one Melburnian fag hag for the night and you’re striding home McDonald’s takeaway bag clad. You’re tipsy; actually you’re drunk and the streets of Richmond are barren and […]

soberblog2

I stare into the rations of a ginger beer on the rocks, the commotion of a bar evolves around me, friends share amplified conversations as they brim with liquor lathe lip service, trying to compete against the amplified sound of a live band in the apposing room and the echoed conversations of this overcrowded venue. […]

fatherofmineblog

Remember when you were four years old and your Dad would pull into the driveway pumping The Cure, In Between Days. You’d leave the show you were watching, book you were reading or game you were playing and sprint as fast as your calves could carry you to greet him. So that you could ride […]