Category: Season 3

Now we’re getting somewhere. The legs are a little less wobbly and this makes for some confident strides. Lisa develops the emotional scar tissue that matures her, Bart and Homer get some definition to their comic archetypes, and Marge gets a moment of actual character.

Black Widower

Black Widower

My Recollection

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The modern city of Brisbane is awash with the technological marvels of the 21st century: Big W, free-range Aborigines, and internet speeds that would be the envy of 1998. But it wasn’t always this way. My father will occasionally tell of his youth here. A time when Brisbane scarcely rated as a large country town, when the nomad gimps battled on horseback for feed, and the pleasing buzz that emanates from the clock tower was just a faint tickle in the language centres of the brain.

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Bart the Lover

Bart the Lover

My Recollection.

Come back, zinc! Ow, my eyeball! I am gay.

The morality that structures/suffocates my behaviour today wasn’t always the loudest voice in my head. It’s difficult to get a word in edgewise when the executive functions are piss-blind cretins, so I’d do things that amused me I’d today consider wildly immoral. One of the ones I found the most fun, and still do (even though I don’t do it), is tampering with people’s communications. Like posting on their Facebook, for instance. There’s an art to it, a line that’s beyond the pale for the individual but not so far as to set off any alarms takes some skill to intuit, and the shock from both them and their friends list was always a delight.

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