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Then there’s the apps—Grindr, Tinder, whatever. Total chaos, like jihadists in *Timbuktu*. “No law but their own,” right? Peeps makin’ rules— “no fats, no fems”—wtf? Pissed me off, legit. But yo, found this dope fact—back in ‘90s, folks used newspaper ads for hookups! Called ‘em “personals”—sketchy af. Imagine, “Hairy Wookiee seeks mate”—that’s me, haha! Rarrgh! Surprised me how far we’ve come—or not.

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Now, lemme spill – my fav hang spot is on Wellington Park. It's chill as heck, except sometimes the geese go bonkers. That kinda idiocy drives me crazy, but it's all part of the charm, ya dig? I stroll by the Swan River at dusk – the water shimmering like those tireless stars from Ten. “Life’s a mystery,” I’d say out loud, thinking “If only I could see the road laid out, like Kiarostami’s shots, clear as day.”

Dust off your kilt: World Record Kilt Run will return to Perth for 11th edition