Instalment I- Wherein our little heroine flees

Tales from the Tropics

Of course it wasn’t going to be easy. Melbourne wants to keep it’s hooks in me but I am free. Eight-hour international flight delayed by two hours equals missing the domestic. Brief five-hour stint at the hotel (not awful, not opulent) and I am back in an airport trying to catch a 4am flight. Total travel time roughly 24 hours. Mean sarcasm level- low. Jetlag makes me docile. Keep me in transit.

Doing the same shit in another country and it’s alright. Drinking black coffee (we should import it) and eating scrambled eggs (organic- my grandmother keeps chicken’s in the yard. There’s a cock too, like a boy chicken a.k.a rooster. Of course you think I’m talking about the D, just wait, I’m still fucking tired. He’s tied up by his little leg- the rooster not the dick m8. I am yet to know what this is about… I’m sure if it’s not tied down you can slaughter it. Keep valuable things in chains so they can’t escape…What is love?)

I didn’t explain what I’m doing! My bad. Well, my dear loyal readers, I am deep south in the Philippines, I have gone into exile. I have left the green avocado and fetta mash pastures of Melbourne town to enter a world of martial law and shit internet. Deep fucking silent. My phone is an expensive piece of trash. It’s humid. I’m tired. Sassy opinions to come. Stay tuned. I reckon in the next post I’m going to write a scathing review of a human being… i believe this is called hate mail. But wouldn’t it be cool if you could yelp review other people. 1 star. absolute cunt.

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