Don't worry, it already happened
The general consequence of my bashful bladder means the urinal is a no go zone - even if I feel I'm going to explode. I hear footsteps behind me and the water works lock up; the presence of others is behaviour altering and sends me to the stalls for sanctuary. I bring this up because when people know they're being watched, they modify their behaviour. There's been a noticeable drop off in real estate stories across Tasmanian, now I don't know whether to strum my own bum hairs, write a sonnet to myself and claim credit, but it's hardly a bad thing to have this noxious blog ready carpet bomb journalists who fall prey to property spruiking. After all, they are meant to ask questions, right? Not glibly take the word of every silver tongue they encounter. The failure of hard news continues to be the unquestioning coverage of the guy with the hard-on. Of course he's gonna tell you it's a good time to have sex and what's the sub-editor gonna stick on top of t...