ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
“Ok, fuck face,” he said, looking himself in the eye.
“This weekend, you’re not going to drink yourself into unconsciousness and then bring yourself back to life with party drugs. You’re going to go bushwalking or fishing or something. You’re going to call your parents, you might even clean your room,”
“You’re not going to waste this weekend coming. You’re going to get your life back on track.”
Francis Kennedy has a bad case of the Mondays.
Speaking candidly to The Advocate this morning at the Jones Avenue bus stop in Betoota Heights, the city worker said he feels disappointed in himself after letting yet another weekend pass him by.
The directionless and mildly afraid 27-year-old Virgo laughed as he explained how he didn’t even leave his house yesterday on account of how hungover and scat he was.
“I still feel like I’m dead on the inside,” he said.
As the big brown and red Betoota Bus Lines Mercedes moaned violently up the hill to the bus stop, Francis’ answers got shorter and shorter until our reporter got that he no longer wanted to talk.
He then researched where he could pick magic mushrooms in the wider Diamantina area.
More to come.
