Articles from Cheeseburger Gothic

Tuesday mornings, you'll normally find me walking around West End before the sun comes up. Jane has a PT session pretty early, and I take the opportunity to get a walk down by the river. Her trainer called as we were on the way to her gym yesterday morning, however, and asked if she could reschedule. No biggie. Jane diverted to the gym in her club in the city, and I took the opportunity for a slightly different walk.

From this morning’s walk and talk around the park:

Slim Jim looked up and sure enough, he spotted the two really big drones that were constantly circling around the site, keeping an eye on it. They were massive, and not that high up, but he couldn’t hear them. What he could hear was the gnat-like buzz of the much smaller drones they were building and testing out here, the same model he’d been playing with at the pool party in the previous chapter.

We had some minor damage to the roof from the cyclone earlier this year, and I put a claim in to our insurers, who’ve been outstanding, including telling us there was a lot more damage from a previous storm up there that we weren't aware of. They said they’d repair that too, because apparently I made a previous claim out of that storm as well. That was nice of them. They could’ve just kept that to themselves.

I do love me a good sandwich. The best ones stay with you in your memory for years afterwards. I had an amazing corned beef sanger in New York about 20 years ago that I still think about. I am forever searching for a decent Cubana sandwich in Brisbane, a Mexican toasty with pulled pork, ham, chorizo and sometimes even hotdog. Oh, and cheese, of course. You can't have a good sandwich let alone a toasty without cheese.