Considering I now earn less than I did four years ago #Luckycountrymypertfuckingarse, my willy nilly, spendy ways of years gone by is being rethought. I have learned that it is possible to be piss elegant, and eat just fine on a tight budget. My name is Greg Swan, and I shop at Aldi’s, and I don’t give a fizzing bung what anyone thinks.
Please . . please . . Please . . . . Please . . please, Wollongong, enough with the posts about how wonderful the eating is in Wollongong these days.
We get one new chain eatery in town, and people go beresk.
Now Melbourne, that is a city who knows how to do food.
I shudder to think what sort of frenzy the (mostly) culinary, cultural wasteland of Wollongong* would experience, if “Lord of the fries” ever opened an outlet here.
Perspective people, calm yourselves . . please.
*Of course North Wollongong is exempt from any, and all, besmirching. It, and its inhabitants of cultured residents, is (natch) utterly beyond reproach.
You know the aging process is well underway, when you’re sitting around with your gay friends, and instead of discussing appropriately salacious, lascivious, retched guy things, you realize you just spent fifteen minutes talking, and fantasizing about potato salad. Including a role play of Nigella Lawson, with heaving bosoms*, making aforementioned salad.
*The absolute tragedy is I didn’t need to stuff cushions down my shirt to get the tits.
