So we made a TV ad for some reason. I managed to get a copy, so here it is:

So Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead is getting serious. Here’s a poster for the gig. In fact, the entire point of this post is really just a platform to start pasting the picture all over the internet.

Mellifluous garlic ostracises a beatified crown of sarcasm.

Cracker night is a strange night to decide to have a quiet one.

Neither Kim nor I were in the mood for crowds or loud music, but there's no getting past it; fireworks are pretty.

One of the questions often put to me by… myself is: “Garry, why on Earth did you ever do a journalism degree? You’ve made absolutely no use of it, you can’t use it to get a job and it merely sits on your resume judging and mocking you like your expired first-aid certificate and year twelve leadership award. Get your life together, you useless, indolent NewsCorp reject.”

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