Danielle Scrimshaw28 August 2016
All that matters in life is Jimmy Barnes, nineteenth-century lesbians, and the three boxes of Cheerios I clutch to my chest in the car park at Coles. Woolworths didn’t have them in stock so I had to drive to the next suburb.
A long time ago (last Friday) in a galaxy far, far away (Melbourne), I attended the opening night of ‘Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back In Concert’, performed by the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra. It was, as you could imagine, amazing.
I called her every Saturday morning, though, and played ‘Wuthering Heights’ by Kate Bush into the phone. I wouldn’t say anything, just play the song as soon as she answered and then hang up when it finished. I never did explain why and I think she hated it, but it became such a habit that she just answered every week without fail.
I remember exiting the theatre and not being able to stop smiling. As we were making our way to the tram stop, I couldn’t help shaking Dani’s arm and repeatedly (annoyingly) asking her if she saw what I saw and if she could believe it. Being the kind soul she is, she patiently told me that yes, she was there the entire time and she knew exactly how I felt in that moment and there’s a small bit of shared magic that we both took away that night. So please, if you have the time and money go see the show with a friend, I promise you won’t regret it.
Danielle Scrimshaw on the unsung hotties of history class
my body is nothing but ocean
and vivid black sky and i feel whole
she is somewhere floating behind me
solid and present while i am
nothing but liquid stars
she reaches for me and i sink into the womb
I thought, fuck it, I’m going to Midsumma, so and the hair remained.
“Why are you carrying a pigeon?”
You know that feeling when you wake up after a really hectic night?
“What is that? A barbecue?”
I clung tightly to a Country Road bag full of onions, engaged in a fierce tug-of-war contest with the now crazed former Prime Minister.
“Is that… is that Tony Abbott?”
Before I could reply there was some sort of battle cry and a horde of figures came running down the plains. They took advantage of our confusion and circled us, pointing sharpened sticks at our flesh.
This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a – lol jks it will end with us banging.
Canned soup, canned asparagus, canned spaghetti, canned – ohmygod tampons.
Patricia was just about to ask if he had a Rewards Card when the man pulled out a gun.
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