CHRISTMAS16. The UFS Address. Take a moment...to celebrate with us. Created, funded and implemented independently, the neighbourhood that grows food in the street has had a remarkable year. If you haven't liked us on FB, make sure you do that to.
It’s 35 degrees so Cass heads to Perth’s most iconic amatuer modelling competition: Cottesloe Beach.
En route, she stops off at the Boatshed to stock up on the most important supply: a large bottle of Voss water. Her go to source of hydration ever since her mother stormed out of The Blue Duck for the mere suggestion that tap water was on offer.
Cass and Brit pick a spot and get to work on the most important order of the day. The obligatory #hotdogorlegs beach selfie to not only show off her pre-beach spray tan but also alert the working class bunyips that she had a day off while they slaved for annual leave.
“Cottesloe Beach get in me! #mybodyisready #beachdays #legs11 #blessed #perthisok #sharks #fromwhereyoudratherbe #beach #cottesloe #beachlyfe #voss #zimmerman #areyoujelly #beachlivesmatter”
All isn’t as classy as it seems as when it comes to life, Cass is the gift of Cadbury’s Favourites: she's sweet but her box tends to get shared around. Accordingly she spends her time on the sand like a malnourished shame-seal hiding from belt notched fuckboys.
Finally, the coast is clear, so it’s time to flaunt her banging body like the sand was her personal runway. Her #megsdelish rig has been forged from a simple equation: nutrients out, enhancements in: the Western Suburb’s way.
She begins playfully frolicking, bending over naughtily and flicking her hair back like she was in a Cunt-tene Pro V commercial. Basically doing anything without risking getting her make-up or hair wet. Work it girl.
She returns from her cat walk, and turns to Brit, “Oh EM GEE, did you see all those creepy losers having a look, like um I feel so violated”. She doesn’t. She feels like she's living out her fantasy of signing up to Chadwicks so she only has to spend daddy’s money on European holidays.
Turns out, baking in the 35 degree sun while refusing to swim can get hotter than the hand friction of a junky's 6 hour meth-wank. It’s time to return to her Mini Cooper and be seen driving up and down Marine Parade.
She looks at her windscreen. There is a ticket. Two hundred fucking dollars. For no standing! She should consider herself lucky, Oscar Pistorius copped 6 years for what he did while not standing.
She is torn. Ring daddy or head to the Cott Hotel for an Aperol Spritz and a quick gold dig. Fuck it, she makes like an Old El Paso commercial and does both.