And out.

Goodness, who’d have thought?

The final curtain

It was only February when I was cycling around Oriental bay, seven years of Wellington life having done little to sally the view of the harbour.

Concerning conspiracies and quacks

An elderly lady stands in a blue and white dress. Her whitened hair is tied into a bun, pulling the crow’s feet tight around her eyes. She’s screaming – screaming – at the crowd. “Your eyes are closed! You don’t see the Truth – just you wait until the day of judgement!” Hiding behind her, [...]

Lies, damn lies, and jobs

Kiwi mate Steve and I were having a couple of quiets in Farringdon. He’d just been to an interview.
“They wanted to know if I could act.” Kiwi mate Steve explained.
“And then they started talking about role-playing.”
It all sounded pretty kinky so I wanted to know more. I ordered a few more beers.

A piece of Kiwi in Kabwe

“Hand built.”
I aah’d. “Aaaah.”
“Well you can’t exactly get the parts round here, mate.”
“True, true.” I replied, but I had no idea. I’m not really a cheese man.

Who’s your idol?

I remember sleeping.
It was some time ago. There were friends too, emerging relationships with housemates and Londonites and ex-pats.
All suspended. Because of stuff’s blog idol. The good news is that I’ve managed to make it to the final three. I have three more posts to finish before it’s all gone, so [...]

That Kodak moment

Where were you the moment it happened? Do you remember?
I was a teenager in Cape Town at the time, a picture of innocence in a youth hall filled with thousands of similarly starry-eyed ilk. Everyone remembers though. It was Joel Stransky who finished it off with an eleventh hour kick, setting the ball sailing between [...]

Rule Britannia

My flatmate Lizzie berated me a couple of nights ago because I appear to pick on the English a bit. She said something about me being unfair, lumping all English people together and something about it being racist. I guess it’s well overdue to say nice things about the place.
Yup.
The tubes are on strike this [...]

You give me fever

“Come. Come, look here,” said the dispatch clerk in Durbanville Post Office, South Africa, “I support the All Black, see?”
He flips open his phone and shows me his picture of Carlos Spencer. “All Black. See!”

Refreshes the parts other beers cannot reach

Beer will save us, I promise. And I have proof too. Klaude told me so.
It was a starry May evening at the Corel Rock hotel in Zanzibar when Klaude told me about the Heineken factories in the Congo. Sorry, make that the Democratic Republic. It would seem that even warlords aren’t without irony.