Geoffrey Rush and his amazing magical unicorn

I’ve learned a lot of things while working in train stations: people don’t like delayed trains, junkies enjoy extremely long chats, there’s a man who walks around Melbourne carrying a giant papier-mâché carrot and, more recently, that Geoffrey Rush catches the train.





It’s not just once I’ve watched Mr Rush walk past me, and it’s not just once that I or my co-workers have failed to take any kind of action.




Yes, he’s touched Johnny Depp. Yes, he knows Colin Firth. Yes, he’s worked with a capuchin monkey. But apparently none of this is reason enough to exert myself by standing up and walking a couple of metres over to him, or to yell ‘OI! RUSH!’. My only real incentive is that it would make a pretty sweet Facebook photo.

The man has an Oscar. Oscar winners don’t catch the train. There are far more appropriate Oscar winner forms of transportation. Namely the unicorn.

Please note that I never claimed I could draw a unicorn.


Also, I still have a BOOK! If you've not yet carressed its pages, get on it HERE.

I'm not dead (yet)

It’s been a long time between drinks (blog drinks, not actual drinks. Actual drinks have been going ok) and I’m sorry. Mostly it’s because of laziness, but I also have the following excuses. I have been busy:

Trying to sell my book (which you can get here by the way…).

Trying to finish my school work.

Freaking out about that fact that in less than two months I have to go be lonely in New York, which is now under water thanks to a stOOpid storm.

Helping a friend stalk an attractive man.

Helping a friend drink.

And thinking about the big issues.