Suburban tales: politics, sex, and getting stuck in school
Welcome to a week of splendid news from the suburbs, towns and semi-divisions around our sunburnt land.
We start our trip around the traps in Higgins, the very leafy and very inner eastern Melbourne electorate of former treasurer Peter Costello. In a move that could take the blue-ribbon seat a fair bit further into the blue spectrum, Sex Party candidate Fiona Patten has thrown her hat into the by-election ring. Surrounded by supporters - including an ‘adult entertainment’ actress - the Eros Foundation lobbyist launched her tilt at a trendy Prahran café.
While we’re in the southern city’s more trend-setting parts, if you’ve ever wanted to wear a dress made of living fungus, now’s your chance. Bio-artist Donna Franklin’s Fibre Reactive dress allows the presumably apprehensive wearer the chance to experience a fungal outbreak first hand, without need of ointment.
Moving north, and in a nightmare scenario for any schoolkid, a 10-year-old lad in the Gosford region found himself trapped alone in a classroom after school with nothing but email and raw cunning to aid his escape.
While many of us would have crouched down in a corner and calmly and rationally decided which shoe to eat first, Kallister Sojenka sent emails to his teacher, slipped notes under the door and eventually made good his escape through an open window. Just like the series Jailbreak really, but infinitely more plausible.
Several hours later, a grateful mum was reunited with the little champ.
In klepto-watch news, a spate of unusual thefts has police around the country amused and the good churchmen of north Sydney bewildered.
A collection of baseball-style bible society banners have been disappearing from Kenthurst and parts adjacent. The slightly garish signs, which proclaim ‘Jesus, All about life’, are hopefully giving a little positive re-enforcement to whoever nicked off with them.
In Melbourne, the blue lads cuffed three young gents as they allegedly hoiked a nearby chocolate vending machine into the back of their ute. What exactly do you say when Melbourne’s finest catches you manhandling a slab of coco treats away for your own personal consumption?
Well, in a piece of logic in stark contrast to the alleged act itself, one of the gents in questions confirmed their motive was simply that they fancied some chocolate. It happens to us all.
Adelaide’s finest, meanwhile, felt the need to have a bit of a chat to a chap who drove his car through the City of Churches, oblivious to the fact that he’d lost a wheel somewhere along the way.
On the other end of the transport scale, a bunch of Brisbane teens are spoiling it for the rest of us, by choosing helicopters as the preferred means of transport to their High School formals. How are the rest of us supposed to live out our Romy and Michele reunion fantasies, when all the helicopters in town have been booked out by spotty 17-year-olds?
Lastly, if you’re one of the three people in our wide brown land who didn’t see the photos of Hulk Hogan, Rick Flair, and the fistful of blood that passed between them, allow us to present images taken by local paper photographer Phil Rogers as chairs, tables, belts and professional wrestlers flew about him.
See more strange tales of splendid suburbia on Twitter at @suburbantales
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