Flying for twenty hours straight can be restless on the ol bum bum. And scary not to mention old mate DVT. So yours truly had a novel thought after sitting through the Silence of the Lambs XXIII, I mean Fracture: 'hey, Ill walk down to the back of the plane, stretch my legs, grab a drink and return to my seat to securely fasten the seat belt even when the sign isnt on. The flight attendants will love my proactivity!' So I meander on down to self serve town in the arse of the plane where two glamorous Finnish (I know- hens teeth) flight attendants are speaking in whatever native tongue a Finnish flight attendant does. So Im standing in front of them also facing the front of the plane and decide to touch my toes. ... read more
1:38am. I should be asleep by now. To be honest, I've been learning the proper lyrics to some of my favorite songs. Having sacrificed all but one night in Tokyo for AWARD Craft, there’s no chance in Westpac I’m going to miss out on at least one karaoke classic. I’ve spent the last few weeks going to sleep with my iPod, conjuring rock star fantasies of me with a microphone, a technicolour establishment and a sea of Japanese awe at my Brendan Flowers performance of Read My Mind. Otherwise I’m sure they’ll have Reckless. So I’m 24 and sick of the increasing number of people I know saying the same thing over and over. The same names repeated. Santorini. Munich. Amsterdam. I’ve finished AWARD School, worked my oversized arse to get in the top ten and ... read more