Saturday afternoon my mate Chris called me up and said hey, would I like to come on a car club cruise. So I said hell yeah and he came over after dinner and picked me up in his WRX and we headed for the meet point.

When we arrived at the meet point there was just a dude with a video camera and a chick posing on the bonnet of her Subaru STI. We hung out and looked at the map and watched the cars arrive - a bunch of WRXes mostly, plus some dickheads in Holdens that couldn’t park straight. The coolest car there was this flouro yellow Mazda with Japanese plates. Completely illegal, but fucking awesome.

The cruise was some fun times. Chris balled it down the freeway at the head of the pack, weaving through the traffic and dodging the huge Holdens that would roar up through any available gap and sit two metres behind the car in front. I thought about the people travelling home from work who were about to get buzzed by thirty or so speeding sports cars, and would probably write a letter to the editor about it. We travelled the length of the metro area, up and down, though got bored of racing after a while when it looked like nearly every car there could beat Chris’s stock WRX by a mile. Ended up in King’s park, looking out over the city. The thing that surprised me about this whole deal is that you can get away with hell. Down the freeway at 150, screaming through major intersections in peak traffic, welded diffs - and that big dude with his chopped Mazda, number plates half full of Japanese kanji. The arm of the law is way shorter than you’d expect. When I was kid I kinda assumed that most crimes were discovered and punished, now I figure people mostly do what they want and try not to stand out too much.

The other thing I did recently was write a song that is slow and minimal; a bit like a Smog tune. Except that it’s all about wanting to be a whale and/or a lion, and therefore completely unlike Smog.