Ipswich embraces much of what I remember being left behind in the 70s. Utes, thongs, chicko rolls, dodgy moustaches, and the pie. Bogan chicks getting off on V8s.
Maybe suburbia has been like this the whole time and I’ve just been ignorant. In that case, ignorance really is its own kind of bliss. Maybe the pie from out of the back of a ute on the side of the road has appeal. Handy – roads are long here. Quicker - Maccas drive through queues are killers. And filling – no one here seems to caught up on nutritional fine print!
The names are right out there too “Big Dad’s Pies” a local franchise going strong. “Joe’s Pies” – calling it how it is.
If you like meat, this is the town for you. Gotta fight for a decent lettuce, but meat from here to kingdom come.
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