Category Archives: Warwick Capper

Monday night brain haemorrhage, or: Farmer Wants A Wife

As I get older, I find myself becoming  more and more of a bogan. All the attempts I made in my youth to assert that I was in some way cool have been cast aside. To whit, I no longer want to spend my weekends getting pissed and making eyes at handsome dickheads. (This is clearly for the best.) All I really want to do is lie on the couch, get a decent takeaway and watch Friday night footy on our shit-hot massive TV. So, so boganic, and yet so entirely pleasurable.

Last night I indulged in the suburban pastime of making and eating our national dish (spaghetti bolognese) and watching crap commercial telly. And when I was done, I thought “I need to do this more often.” Continue reading