I recently read Andrew Bolt’s blog regarding his visit to Castlemaine. I couldn’t help notice that he managed to confirm ALL his suspicions regarding the latte-swilling blow-ins ruining a noice Country Party and fangin’ bogan heartland by taking a brisk walk of a single block of our little nook-shodden hamlet.
How amazing. I feel like Watson to his Sherlock Holmes, just agog. Looking in windows and at noticeboards on the street for nary an afternoon revealed the secret, beating heart of Castlemaine.
I know what I’d do to his anticlinal fold.
Actually, I wouldn’t do anything. I just wanted to make a joke for locals. Maybe Andrew Bolt could be the hanging judge for the next Castlemaine Idyll.