Gee, 1966, I was still half sperm, half egg … well, a full sperm … doing laps looking for an egg to call my own. Or was I an egg waiting for a sperm to bite me on the ass? Geez, how did we swimmers know we needed to find an egg? How did my egg side know I needed to be bitten? Maybe my egg side was raped? Were there afternoon egg finding and swimming classes back in the sack? Anyways, trawling through my new favourite Youtube channel ……
Read MoreLife In Australia: Brisbane 1966
