Be a Sydney Real Estate Copywriter!
Sick of unpaid blogging? Sydney’s booming housing market offers a career opportunity for writing enthusiasts. Take a look at your local realo’s printed glossy advertising vehicle, or domain.com. You don’t even need a command of English to crank out this kind of copy—one ad boasted that the unit was located in a ‘sort-after’ area—just an affinity for frogshit.
I nearly choked on my coffee when I spotted an ad for the North Sydney rental dump I used to live in. The author shows an astounding talent for euphemisms and flowery adjectives worthy of Mills & Boon.
Why should someone else get paid to do this? Why not me? I’ve decided to give it a try…
Rooty Hill ambience, Liberal voter postcode!
Late Victorian gem, chopped into three flats by an enterprising landlord with a passion for DIY and a jones for illegal wiring.
Nestled between the shabby gentility of Flat 1 (sweeping view of blocks of flats with sweeping harbour views) and the edgy cool of Flat 3 (al fresco shower and loo in weed-choked courtyard), Flat 2 offers the discerning tenant the following prestige amenities:
•Vintage kitchen appliances: H.G. Palmer fridge featuring solid ice block freezer compartment; Metters Slimline stove with ornamental toaster tray, non-functional burners, and heritage bits of dried egg
•Wall-to-wall carpet in trendy Rental Brown; bathroom tiles in Barf Camouflage
•70s Orgasmatron shower unit drains freely into the sewer, without the encumbrance of a water seal. During hot showers, the odour of steaming effluvia adds an exotic Calcutta vibe to this charming retro element
•Handy proximity to Kirribilli’s premium-priced eateries
•Nearby coffee shops with outside tables offer ample opportunities for public preening
•Distinguished demographic: from the P.M. in Kirribilli House, to the colourful denizens of Greenway Public Housing, to the wanker who roars down Carabella Avenue in his red Ferrari, this neighbourhood truly has it all!
A short stroll to the Telstra payphone, the Australia Post box, and all the varied pleasures of this enviably chic and oh-so-exclusive area. Ring 0400 SUC KER for a guided tour. (Those with impeccable references need only enquire.)
You would think that Kirribilli, with its proximity to the Harbour Bridge, would be the perfect spot to spend New Year's Eve. It is, if you have a unit with a harbour-facing balcony. But in years past, I've often had to batten down the hatches of my ground-floor unit, stay indoors, and miss the fireworks. Why?
--Throngs of bogans clogging the trains and ferries
--Bogan single mothers with two or three screaming children in tow
--Drunken bogans throwing/smashing/pissing into their empty beer bottles
--Aggro/drug-affected bogans swearing/leering/disrobing
God, how I envied the champagne-sipping yuppie snots perched on their balconies, watching the fireworks far above the unruly proles.
This year was different. Police blocked off the neighbourhood and performed bag searches, letting no BYO alcohol or glass into the area after noon. Kirribilli was crowded, but not dangerously so. And the crowds were generally well-behaved. Three North Americans did climb on top of the Beulah Street ferry shelter, strip to their shorts, and jump into the Harbour to the cheers of their fellow travellers, but no one got hurt. One tipsy young man was loudly recounting some sexual adventures, but when he caught my eye, he apologised and wished me a happy new year.
I watched the nine o'clock and the midnight fireworks from different vantage points near the water--one with a view of the Opera House, one with a view of the Bridge. Between the two observation points, I got a complete view of the show without being squashed in a crowd.
New Year's morning, there were a few broken bottles and some rubbish, but this was easy to ignore. An atmosphere of celebration and goodwill lingered. Fitness buffs wished me a happy new year as they jogged past my front verandah as I sipped my first coffee of 2008.
Where were you on NYE? Was it good? Bad? Overrated?