Residents of NSW, fear not. I am here.
Alot of stuff actually happens on Christmas Eve. It isn't usually stuff you can publish, most commonly families beating each other up, and people threatening to do use themselves as a tree decoration. Dark humour aside, here is an example of a vital newspiece that only I am privy to:
"We have one POI - male, 18-25 wearing a pink shirt and a pink truckers hat running in front of traffic on the Pacific Highway in front of The Greengate Hotel."
From that description alone I can almost guarantee that I went to school with, or the private school two kilometres down the road from that guy. He is happy as shit because "everyone is here!" So happy that he even decided to match his shirt and cap. He is letting all the cars on the road know, that when is drunk he is invincible - and trying to stop him enjoying his evening jog is useless. He has been waiting all year for this and nothing will stop in, counting down days from August, and saying to everyone he runs into: "Greengate Christmas Eve? Gonna be huge!"
Anyway, as there is no paper to be released on Christmas day, I am the only one here. 27 floors of building, and I am on the top of these in my little room, flanked by darkness - If I walk to the window I can see the distinct mist of hopeless addiction rising out of the vents at Star City Casino. My regular security brother-in-darkness is rostered off, so I exchanged brief banter with a different man in a similar uniform who suggested I didn't fall asleep - to which I replied "I'll try not to!" Disappointed with my own wit I excused myself, returning to Sam In The City's yearly wrap-up post (I have since discovered that with my public holiday penalty-rates, I made over $15 reading it - which is more than I have ever made writing anything, kudos Sam).
Hurstville Channel has just informed me that two 20 year old females are fighting out the front of a pub somewhere. The bouncer believed that they were fighting over the attention of a male, I prefer to think that they were arguing over what the guy listening to the police scanner would think of it all. He thinks that girls fighting is a cliche fantasy championed by the likes of Al Bundy and Tim "The Toolman" Taylor. He would be interested to see, but is pretty sure you a both complete DON'Ts - the kind of folk who seem to be always in the regional train terminal at Central Station.
Eastwood Channel has piped up, letting me know that a man (I didn't get any earlier details) is standing on a street with his (tracksuit) pants down masturbating (probably furiously, I'll chase it up). The hardest part of my job is to know when something is important enough to wake up the Pictures Editor and Chief Of Staff to get them out there. I'm a bit worried that if I get them out of bed, by the time they get there he may have climaxed and the front page would be lost.
Merry Christmas from everyone currently in the Fairfax Building (just me).
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If anyone needs to get in touch with me over the Christmas and new year period, I'll be the guy at Falls Festival wearing yellow zinc, footy shorts, an Australian flag and a t-shirt reading
"The Boys' Falls Trip '06
Beers, Bitches, Blunts & Biccies (sic)
GET A HAIRY DOG UP YA!"
Sincerely,
The Boys
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