ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

In an effort to escape the oppressing night-time heat last weekend down in our nation’s inhospitable south, a lost boy of New South Boomerstan became separated from his mates at a Melbourne pub – forcing him to seek refuge within the air-conditioned bosom of the hotel’s pokie den.

But after completing a number of laps of the pub, Miles Freckmen failed to find the said den – or even his friends.

The 25-year-old corporate lawyer spoke timidly to The Advocate today in the foyer of our newspaper’s Daroo Street offices after arriving back into our desert republic early yesterday morning.

“That was bad,” he said.

“I think I went to go and have a wee and then when I came back, the table was empty, save for a few finished pots or clamwangers or whatever they call beers in Victoria this week,”

“Anyway, I thought to myself, ‘Man, it’s hot. I might slip a blue bottle through Pelican Pete and cool myself down a bit, perhaps even leave with a gullet of coins, of which I’d spend watering the throats of my good friends outside,’ so I set off in search of the pokie room. I couldn’t find it in the end and I wasn’t about to ask a staff member or bouncer,”

“They’d take one look at me and say, ‘Jesus Christ man, you’re too drunk to be in here,’ and I’d really be lost then.”

But as the night crept on, he found his friends upon their return from the hotel’s smoking area and they ended up leaving a short time later.

As they walked down the hill to the next pub, Miles turned to an ethnically-Melbournese friend of his and asked if this pub they’re going to is pokie-free like the one they’d just left.

“My mate just laughed and said, ‘Look where you are, you pissed idiot. You’re in Melbourne. There’s no pokies here, just shit haircuts, the woke, the problematic and strange weather,’ and I just shivered,”

“I’ll tell you something for free, there’s no place like Queensland, I’ll tell you what.”

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