Wham Kids its five o'clock on the Space Captain's Clock

Oh my glasses are ridiculous alright. I need to be wearing a Space Captain's uniform at all times otherwise the whole thing is a disaster and yet... when I glanced down at my laptop, glasses, diary and phone sitting nicely with a casual elegance on my coffee table I realised something. These are my things and they are coordinated. It looks like I opened my handbag and a tiny man from Vogue Living popped out and arranged expensive borrowed accessories for a photo shoot.

Some months ago I was dreaming of owning a pair of white sunglasses. Every night for weeks I dreamt about them. They were amazing. I did not buy white sunglasses and now I am glad because they have been hijacked by those cursed Wham Kids. I hate Wham Kids. I want to hit them over the head with those blue freezer bricks that I keep in my freezer just in case I ever buy an esky.

Let's talk for a moment about Wham Kids. They need to be stopped at all costs. It all started early last year with a random spotting here and there on King St and I thought Oh those silly Newtown kids are at playing dress ups again but then one fateful day it happened. I walked down King St merrily singing a song about fig sorbet whilst bumping into people, I hurt my arse doing my washing by hand in the bathtub and temporarily lost my steering, when I looked up and there were hordes of them. Hordes! It was a rare moment of pure horror.

Wham Kids look like they are on their way to a Wham concert. They are all loose t-shirts with fluoro bits on them, white sneakers, white sunglasses (or blue or other neon colours), tight pants or flarey sort of little skirts. They have beads and chains and socks and hair oh lord the horror. Once I saw a Wham Man, to his credit he pulled it off, but still it was a little creepy. If a Wham Kid approaches you say "Choose life" then run.