The Owl of Brunswick St/Johnston St Intersection

Well hello there ... ladies!

It's been a while since I've posted...ladies.
Good to be back in the soft caress of my blog ... ladies.

(Just a tip, if you want to make anything sleazy, anything at all, just say after a little pause "...ladies" at the end of your sentences. If you really wanna turn the creep on, add in a few "If you know what I mean"s and you will be an instant sleaze.)

As propesterous as it may sound, my life has been a busy swirl of performing, homeworking, schooling, mooing and other various "ing"s that has prevented me from really squeezing in enough time to whip a decent blog, for your enjoyment.

But today as I stood waiting for the 112 tram (Which, by the way, is the best tram in Melbourne) on Brunswick St, at the corner of Johnston something occured that just had to be "blogged" about. It is quite good that in this day and age that the verb "to blog" exists.

As I waited in the confusingly hot weather of Melbourne's autumn, I heard a strange sound. Unfortunately it is rather difficult to replicate the noise via written word. How I wish, fair reader, you were gathered around me, sitting beside a crackling fire, and I could tell you my tale spoken with great passion. Alas.

Here is my attempt:

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOE! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOE!"

It rose above the noise of the busy traffic and pierced the usual sounds of suburbia with it's bizarrity. (Bizarrity may or may not be a word) It sounded like a strangely loud and big owl.
I could see others on the street looking to the source of the noise. What was it?

Then my eyes fell on the opposite corner. A man was standing a little way from the road, holding a bag. He was wearing a hat and sunglasses, looked about middle age and was quite large. There he was, at the intersection calling "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOE!" over and over again, to no one in particular.

It was hilarious enough, but after a few more calls, he looked as if "My work here is done!" and he turned and went on his way, looking as normal as if he had just transacted money from an ATM.

Thankyou, owl-hoot-calling man, for amusing me on my commute home, but perhaps it was not for others entertainment. Maybe you thoough
I hope I see you again.

I hope also, that I see this blog again.
Until that moment in time,

Mairead.