Prettyfar.com

Something like 60,000 hits this week.Hi.
New stories are in progress.

I truly do not understand.

*Unrelated news* Also added a few more stories. On my way to work today.
Hungry. Went to 7-11.
Pie. Drink.

Wander out. Chowing on pie, waiting for the lights to change.
I hear something.

Hudja muddjam fan eh ?

I look sideways, there is a very black man standing next to me, I look confused.

He says: “So you are a big pie fanatic eh ?” (Big American accent)
I reply carefully (Having had trouble with random black people before) : Yes, I suppose.

He says: Australians, people around here are so uptight, so uptight, not me though, I’m just chilling, smoking all that shit”

I reply: …….

He says: I’m going to Mcdonalds.

I reply: Ave-a-good-day-mate.

*****
Hardly exciting, strange though.
The question I have is why me ?

This shit happens to, and around me all the time. Do I invite it somehow ?
I’m fairly likely do be doing wacky shit like that myself on occasion.

Does this mark me somehow, can they sense their own ?

I’m working night shift and finishing at midnight, this means I catch the very last tram home.

It’s the best.Joining me on last nights journey:

3 x loud Indians.
1x Tiny frightened Asian lady. Wringing her hands.
2x staggering happy drunks.
1x suit white guy ,drunk making friends with Indians trying to sing techno music, half humming. & rapping.

Thats all fine. I could ignore or be entertained by most everyone.
Then HE boarded.

We was about 45, thick coke bottle glasses, tracksuit everything.
It smelled like he pissed him self about three days back.

Naturally he sat across from me.
The cabin quickly filled with with that special old urine fragrance, it was like a cloud. The worst part was at every stop the doors opened just long enough to tease us with a reminder of fresh air.

Woo.

Why is it that strange thing always seem to happen around me ?
The worst part is that I’m sure that people doubt me.I’ve been buying beer from audies, a discount supermarket. I do not like it very much.

Today I decided that the best way to deal with said bad beer was to drink it. All.
Seven beers in I heard a strange sound.

It seemed to be someone at the door. I looked a few times it was an old lady.
I staggered over and said hello, her son lived here years ago and she lived across the street.

She toured the house, I hid the empties. I don’t understand.
I do not understand.