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No other way 2 do it.

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As we pull up to a red light Tom pipes up in the seat behind me,  "Alright block his number, we'll park it at Nonna's." Austin sitting next to me whines "And sacrifice the wagon?" I'm feeling the exhilaration flood through me, and instead offer we go ram-raid a JB HI-FI, knowing full well I'm returning this car.  I felt like a head. I was cosplaying as one, sorta. Sneezing the boxer around and discovering why they call the suburb Mile End, I was beginning to lose the plot and understand why everyone steals these cars. I felt like I stole it. It was a hot4 and I was making it hotter. Matt handed me the keys and told me I would have the purest experience going alone. I immediately asked if my mates could come and while his facial expression changed he agreed. I offered him to join us but he passed it up.  Three headz in probably the fastest and most sorted car I'd ever driven. I was smiling uncontrollably.  This car is a weapon. No. It is a magnet...
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HOW TO GO FISHING 2

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The overdue sequel to the story; HOW TO GO FISHING 1 The Preface. HTGF1 was the first post I ever made on this blog. It was a story which because of the Instagram caption character limit, didn't have a home.  Hence Corner Stories was born. A way I could give mates a means to engage with what I was making without putting it too in their face.  Originally it was just called MQN8R so that I could publish whatever felt like me. But I decided it needed its own identity, as I wanted others to use the functionality to share their inner monologue and photographic perspective. I want your stories, not boring photos of you on holiday. With that out of the way enjoy HTGF2 ; a few stories from summer folded into each other. HOW TO GO FISHING 2 A year or two had passed since the original failures and so it only made sense to have another crack.  Even if that crack was the sound of a can of fourX while one of us would frivolously tug the rip cord as if something had changed and it w...
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All Cars Were Once New

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Driving through outback Australia you see husks of cars everywhere you go. Every time I come across one, something fascinates me about the lives they must have gone through to end up where they lie. Cars undergo an interesting transformation from new, valuable, and prized possessions into something so worthless it’s better off left in the bush. Whether it’s rotting in a field, on the back of a scrappers truck, or posted as a project on marketplace, try and picture it the day it rolled off the line - because that day did happen. It’s strange to imagine the sensible ‘90s Japanese businessman buying and daily driving a nice 2-door, cloth-seat Nissan . Only to see that car screaming around a track just 30 years on. Or the fresh-off-the-boat ‘60s poms and their brightly coloured, not-letting-go-of-the-homeland Austin convertible. Only for it to become a pile of rust in an overgrown paddock. There is something special about a brand new car.    I had a coworker once who was infectio...
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