Mr JonesI found Mr Jones dressed like this when I woke up. I suspect he knows he is going to Aunty Veronica's concentration camp.
I have to confess that I have been a little bit excited about my odyssey to Parkes. It has always been a mythological place so distant and shrouded in mystery that I have been afraid to pierce the veil in January to find it is just a small country town that eavesdropped on Apollo 11 and gets rather hot in January and is possibly full of well, bogans. For me, it is a pilgrimage, not unlike the muslim's going to mecca, the jews to the wailing wall and for people too tight to go to Graceland due to the GFC and
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