The return to the wegs of the north

Every time i think of the little steel city sister of the north i am quietly overcome by a powerful wave of nostalgia that overcomes my senses, sometimes for merely a moment, while at times it can blanket my moods for for days on end. The amount of crazy, coincidental, heartbreaking and enlightening situations that this little town has been the catalyst for in my life makes it hard to beleive i would ever consider going back. Yet back i indeed travelled after over a years hiatus and to be honest it feels like i never left. Redhead lefts are still wegging, the characters i encountered have become no less extreme, quirky or entertaining and when i drive down the main highway into Swansea my senses are still drinking from the same cocktail of excitement and regret that i first encountered nigh upon 5 years ago. However the thing i missed most is daily routine that my great friend Kade and i share when i am fanging around at his house. Wake up mid morning, surf some sweet little left hand weg trains out the front of his house, usually with some picaresque character such as the Fresh Prince of Woolgoolga, Duck, Dale or Al, come in to a foust of chicken sandwhiches, roll ups and nesquick, watch some glorious teen drama and throw pillows in disgust over the babes and crazy speeches that affirm love and break hearts, before sinking a few beers or a friendly game of beer pong or two before making our way to some night spot where happenings occur that seem so scripted that we ourselves are part of one of these teen dramas. Before last weekend i must admit id never watched a full episode of One Tree Hill. Since then Chad Michael Murray has become my new hero, what a man, check out these bullshit scenes with the massive massive babe Brooke to see why