Here Comes The Mayo

Today, as we all know, was "cast a stone" day for Victorians. Waking up this morning to the smell of virgin sacrifices wafting over the city I knew that in a few hours I would be playing quoits chucking a stone into a poorly defined circle, yelling "howzat!?!" and walking away, proud to've done my part for democracy.



Standing in line hours later, fretting that my aversion to registering as living anywhere might've finally caught up with me, I looked around and realised I was missing out on The Most Awesome Date Ever. It was the couple of Revival Punksters in front of me that tipped me off. Clearly they did not know each other well. Clearly he wanted to ruffle up her undercut, slightly wilting mohawk. Clearly she wasn't sure if she wanted to 'hold hands' with him or just exploit his dvd collection. It was all so ... moving. So magnificent. The ugly, utilitarian lines of the school foyer. The $2 sausage sizzle outside where you could regroup later and talk about the moving experience of casting stones/filling in bits of paper. The awkward amount of time the two of you would have to stand in line together, making small talk. It was pretty much like going to the movies but instead of forking out for some shitty film that didn't have enough explosions you got to determine the political landscape for the next three years. What could possibly be hotter than that?


Just Beautiful

As an end note, the song with which I have titled this post came on my ipod as I walked home, basking in the odour of punk love/democracy. I was moved to reference it since it is the dirtiest thing I've listened to since... [insert time/thing here]. Fabulous!