THE past week has been filled with some serious news from serious places. Luckily none of this need concern us here, as Suburban Tales presents you with men bearing flowers, cars bearing children’s play equipment, and tow trucks bearing your automobile.
Sleazy or Cheesy: Where is the line between sleaze and old-fashioned courtesy?
Everybody has a pervy uncle. They’re part of the wider family ecology, along with the smarter, more popular alpha-cousin and the preternaturally athletically gifted niece who’s destined to represent her state in a sport no one cares about. We all know the tricks in the pervy uncle’s sleazy arsenal:
Welcome to another stumble past the concrete downball squares and scuffed adventure playgrounds in suburbs around our nation.
As the oozing tedium of the great health debate drags on in sound byte form, you have to ask why one school has decided kids need more computers games and less sport.
In a move that aught be applauded by every couch-sitting Modern Warfare player in Oz, Mosman High has decided to trial the Nintendo Wii as a fitness alternative to traditional sport.
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Welcome to another trawl round the slightly yellow public swimming pools and suspect spa baths across our broad nation.
We start this week’s march with a fairly ill-informed assumption.
Suburban Tales representatives haven’t seen a demographic breakdown of The Punch’s readership, but being a site featuring smart, erudite, politically aware and deeply relevant thought (bar this column of course), we can assume a few things…
Welcome to another brief sojourn through the hot bakes and juice stands across our sun-drenched country.
Readers of Suburban Tales would know the love affair the people of Melbourne seem to have with the humble turtle. A couple of weeks ago, we reported on one such reptile who spends quality time attached to a harness being taken for beach walkies.
A blissful existence for any animal, I’m sure you’ll agree.
Welcome to another amble around the mission-brown patios and decked al fresco areas festooned across our sea-girt nation.
We start this week in the Land of Queens, where the mighty have fallen. The Ipswich News reports the ute at the centre of the Utegate fiasco that has been resurrected and turned into a Meals on Wheels fundraiser.
Just as the Krudster himself has pulled a hairshirt skivvy over those coke-bottle specs and wound up a mea culpa or two, so the ute that did no real damage to his political career is now a contrite charity van.
WELCOME to another journey around the dilapidated tennis tables and half-finished construction projects in the back sheds of suburbs around our nation.
We start this week’s shambolic ramble in the southern parts of Melbourne, where life can move slowly, especially when you’re strapped to a turtle. Edithvale resident Helen Beaumont is just such a person.
She has found the zen-like state of happiness that can only come from harnessing up a reptile with a makeshift doggy lead and walking it slowly down a beach.
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Naked cartwheels, foot spas for toddlers and a board game that teaches youngsters the ins and outs of the drug trade.
It’s been another varied week in the quirky world of local newspapers.
When an 80-year-old Adelaide woman found a board game on her front lawn, quite naturally she gave it to her grandson.
We’ll kick off this week’s tour of the suburbs with a story likely to leave your grandad shaking his head and telling you the world’s gone mad.
In yet another kick to the swingers for first-time buyers, a 16 square metre garage has been sold in North Bondi – for $240,000.
As the Wentworth Courier reports, a punter shelled out more than four times the average Australian salary for “a little extra space”.
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Late January, and it’s time for schools to repopulate with wide-eyed kids eager to resume ignoring their teachers in favour of the psychological abuse of their peers.
Consequently, it’s also the time roads start getting clogged and the strains of tune-free music to start screeching through the air as students pick up neglected instruments again.
It’s a stressful time of year, particularly for teachers.
Welcome to another trip around the lawn chairs and broken trampolines of our wide brown suburbs.
There’s nothing like an urban planning story to get the heart of every local journo pumping. All those genteel ‘save our suburbs’ types in leafy inner suburbs butting heads against shadowy property developer types torn straight out of an episode of
Secret Valley. It all makes for good copy.
Take the story from Brisbane’s Springfield News this week that the local Hare Krishna community may be denied permission to build a temple.
Welcome to another week of tales from darkest suburbia, where we ask: “When will the relentless march toward Christmas stories stop?” Not until the last fake tree and fairy lights are packed away, apparently.
Thus, we start in Sydney where St Nick has been banished from Sydney Airport following allegations of misconduct. The Southern Courier reports the man hired to wear the big red suit was fired for what a Qantas worker described as possible “inappropriate gestures to the elves”.
A new Santa has already been hired, so the ho ho ho-ing chain will hopefully continue unbroken.
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The people have spoken in two suburban electorates this week, and they said no to sex. Or at least no to the Sex Party.
As we reported a couple of weeks ago, the party joined the electoral race in the former Peter Costello stronghold Higgins, and also in the Sydney seat of Bradfield.
Not all went swimmingly for the two candidates vying for office. In Melbourne, Sex Party boss Fiona Patten found herself falling foul of the local plod, after some South Yarra parents found her van - with SEX PARTY written on the back - somehow offensive.
Read all about it
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