Skip to content >
, Feb 02, 2018
But, hey, this is Larrimah. One expects things to go twirly. A decade ago, the blokes behind the "Highest bar in the Territory" were Graham Doyle and Syd Worrell. Syd had a French girlfriend, Jacquie, who liked a drink, cooked when she damned well felt like it and had such an aversion to the heat she'd shower fully clothed and return to the bar wringing wet. She and Syd were married at the pub in a ceremony the celebrant will never forget. The bride wore black and had to be assisted down the aisle. The best man, Mad Mick from Maryfield, was so shickered he couldn't find the ring.
, Dec 07, 2017
Empty shops and broken dreams ... the fag end of small business in the tropics.
, Nov 17, 2017
Zosterops (ZOS-ter-ops). Girdle eye, from the Greek zoster, girdle, and ops, eye. Their common name of white-eye or speirops (Greek spiera, circle, and ops) aptly describes the birds of this genus, with their wide ring of feathers around the eyes. There are 98 species of Zosterops, one of the largest genera in the bird world.
, Nov 12, 2017
I spent a few days in Geelong (yes, I have a good reason) earlier this week. Inspired by the photos of Koulla Roussos of empty shops and premises in Darwin, I thought I’d document a few of the fag ends of capitalism scattered around the Geelong CBD. Your comments are welcome …
, Nov 08, 2017
Vale Ron Ball: He was the Wild Man from Wildboar, a crack shot buffalo hunter and meat producer; defined by his cut off Toyota, dusty old Akubra, trusted 308 rifle and busted arse swag.
, Nov 04, 2017
If the death adder bites you on the leg it holds on for good and you die, the snake as well.
, Nov 01, 2017
Wollongong, and in no small way the junkies, punks, bikies—and barmaids—of that town, had made an unsung contribution to the success of the Uluru handback. They had proved to one Anangu man that Australians of good will can be found in the most unexpected places.
, Oct 21, 2017
Too. Fucking. Hot. I cleared the breathalyser and turned off Lee Point Road. As I drove past, just one hundred metres away from the alcohol and drug testing station, I could see one of the many old mates of Darwin’s Northern Suburbs leaning back in his plastic chair, pulling on a bong. Happy Thursday to you, Old Mate.