As proven in my first post, last year's Mardi Gras was the best ever. Although many people did shed their clothes this year, it was due to their preferred social lubricant, not a certain Mr. Tunick. As I sauntered down Oxford St, I noticed this... Art curators are usually kooky, snobbish creatures that favour being separated from us plebs. This glass partition does the job perfectly whilst allowing her to exhibit her pirate shimmy. Partying in shops seemed to be quite a trend because then I found this guy
Look closer at the bottom left hand corner and you'll see that this is no art dealer, druid or extra from eyes wide shut.
Yep he's from NAB, the only bank honest enough to name themselves after what they're really going to do with your money.
