A delightfully blunt Tasmanian road sign; it's a pity they don't have these on pedestrian crossings in Melbourne...
I'm sorry, dear parents. You've spent 25 years bringing up your middle son to respect the system, and to live life without breaking any laws (or, at the very least, to break laws and make sure you don't get caught). I'm sorry to say that I have failed you miserably, and I can't apologise enough that your son is a criminal, for on Monday, 8 January the Melbourne police arrested me. For jaywalking.
There can be no excuse. I heinously ignored the little red man at the crossing, and took the law of the land into my own hands as I crossed the completely traffic-free road to the other side. I can attach no blame to the complete bastard copper who pulled me over and gave me a A$15 dollar fine for contravening the traffic code of 1967. The fact that my Aussie friends couldn't believe it when I told them, and that they didn't know it was a crime either, can be no excuse. I hang my head in humility.
Bloody jaywalking! Whatever next? Being banged in a cell for talking too loudly, or smoking in the street? If I never get out of Australia, and you have to plead with the British Consulate to try to get me out of jail, I can only apologise in advance...
