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“A Seaside Resort Popular With Revellers From Both Liverpool And Manchester…”

Not that I could particularly care less what Stevie Gerrard may or may not have done to some DJ who refused to play a Phil Collins record for him, but it’s nice to see Southport in the news, there.

I’ve never been to The Lounge Inn (bit after my time, I think), so I’m obviously disappointed that premiership footballers aren’t beating people up in the Kingsway or Manhattans (not that I’d know what either of those are calling themselves these days, mind).

I’m not sure about this, though, The Guardian: “The timing of the incident could not come at a worse time for Liverpool FC. The club has a real chance of winning the Premier League – it hasn’t claimed the title in 19 years.”

Huh? (Possibly) winning the league for the first time in two decades is a bad thing? Dark days for the club indeed.

Oh, and I do recommend you watch that little bit of video on the BBC story, if only for the comedy value of the photo they show: what the indie and other papers describe as Gerrard “[posing] for pictures with a young fan about an hour before the fracas” turns out to be him sitting at a table at the back of the shot facing the other way while a gurning idiot sneaks a furtive cameraphone picture…

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And What Have We Done

On previous occasions when I’ve left a bit of a gap between blogs, I’ve always had some kind of excuse to myself–usually a backlog of travel related musings that I wanted to get down before moving on to more recent events. But this time I’ve just not had anything much to write about.

Before we left, I thought that moving to Australia would provide me with the impetus I needed to ramp up the blogging again–all those amusing cultural differences to observe and wittily chronicle–but it turns out that going to the pub over here is much the same as doing it back home. Who knew? I can’t even really comment on the curious aussie habit of drinking out of tiny glasses, because pints seem to be available in most bars now (although you still do see plenty of aussie blokes drinking beer out of laughably small thimbles known as “pots”; they claim it’s because the beer gets warm, but I think we all know it’s because they’re a bunch of wusses).

All of which is not to say that we haven’t been out busily enjoying all that our new home has to offer. Melbourne might not have the size and something-always-happening buzz of London, but it’s not short of decent restaurants and other venues in which to spend your evenings and weekends. And I’ve signed up to just about every gig related mailing list I could find. Last week we attended a “secret” Jet gig at the East Brunswick Club. Not that I’m a huge fan of the band or anything, but as they were playing in the back room of a pub we couldn’t resist. We’ve got a bunch of stuff lined up for the new year too–Mystery Jets on the 1st, Gomez at the Espy in St Kilda playing Bring It On in its entirety in the middle of the month, Razorlight on the 31st, the Kings of Leon, and then the Killers, Kaisers and Elbow at Melbourne’s V Festival. All of which should keep us busy.

It doesn’t feel like Christmas here, though, as I sit here in my office on the morning of Christmas Eve. Outside my window I can see a palm tree, blue skies above it, and busy St Kilda Road beyond–it’s a far cry from the chilly Southport Christmas Eve I might normally be experiencing. And tomorrow promises to be a bit different to usual–I’m swapping an intimate gathering of just the immediate family at home for a sprawling mass of someone else’s extended family at Sal’s cousin’s place in Elwood. There’s still going to be turkey, apparently, but we’ll be eating it outside in the sunshine.

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I Ate All The Pies

Four And Twenty Pies: Tomato Sauce in the Shape of Australia is Optional

Ah I see. So squirting your tomato sauce onto the top of your pie in the shape of the country of Australia, that’s just a serving suggestion.