Featured Stories of the Week

My Worst Ever New Year’s Eve

It was twelve years ago.

In the month before, I’d broken up with my second serious girlfriend.

In the week before, I’d been involved in a team kayak race that finished on NYE in Swan Hill.

At 9pm on NYE I got chatting to a girl in a pub. My teammates left. I stayed. Then the girl left. Alone.

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“There’s two guys beating up a woman!”

Once when I was about 20 years old, I was in a dark nightclub with a friend who was a pretty hard-nut kind of guy. On arrival I went straight to the bar to order drinks and there I was bumped by a 'woman' who was about 6’ 8” tall. The giant apologized and I replied in a witty way, “That’s alright

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Don't Make Me Race You!

Any man who says he isn't competitive is lying and I'll wrestle him to prove the point. I've started cycling to work. There's no better evidence for this competitive streak than being in a group of men on bikes. It’s amazing how quickly a commute can turn into a vicious stage of the Tour de France.

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