Sorry, too far to go, I'll have to up and disappoint you all over again and pass on the offer. Alas!
Ah, so if I was serious about having someone shit on my head then Melbourne would be the place to go? Figures.
But we do it with class, and a certain panache that is lacking elsewhere.
In private rooms with expensive wallpaper rather than on the streets on King's Cross?
If possible, aye, and with tasteful reproductions of '20s Russian Cubist art adorning the walls when and where available; we're flexible, though, and to our endless credit.
I suppose that the streets are rather off limits for a large part of the year, it being Melbourne and all.I'm not sure that flexibility would be of credit in this situation. The beginnings of a nightmare perhaps.
Eh? My streets are perfectly serviceable (not to mention, they're organised in a real grid layout), and offer a fine work place for those practitioners of the world's oldest profession, ready to cater to your every need, no matter the apparent narrowness of the niche!Sounds like a promising nightmare, though, innit?
I meant the weather. I'm sure the streets are perfectly serviceable even if boringly organised.Promising nightmare? What a frightening phrase.
Post a Comment
It follows that reality is a much bigger thing than it seems, and most of it is invisible. David Deutsch