Things I Would Rather Do Than Subject Myself To A Second Viewing Of Baz Luhrmann’s ‘Australia’

Scrub a toilet.

Go to the dentist.

Eat a bucket of overcooked broccoli.

Fling my naked body into a large clump of stinging nettles.

Initiate a conversation with the weirdos who live at Number 1 in my apartment block and are always doing something vaguely creepy when I walk past.

Wear dangly gumnut earrings.

Utter the words, ‘You know, I think those Scientologists are just misunderstood.’

Complete some kind of hideous, week-long ‘nature’ hike that involves sleeping under a tarpaulin, eating freeze-dried food and pooing into a hole.

Sit through a night of experimental student theatre, such as the one I saw where people threw white paint on the floor and then rolled around in it without any clothes on, or the one my friend Munkey attended where the audience was blindfolded and force-fed cat food.

Pierce my own nipple with a darning needle.

Eat a live mouse.

The Jelly Verdict



(Feel free to add to the list... )