24 hours in Dunedin

I have just spent 20 mins writing a nuanced and absolutely f****ing hilarious blog entry - on my partner's Dell Inspiron 1501 laptop (DO NOT BUY ONE).   And what happened?  LOST THE FECKING LOT with a mis-aimed keystroke or some other thing that happens when a 54 year-old meets new-ish technology, and a glass or two of Chardonnay.

I hate laptops.  The tickle-and-click navigation is pathetic - I wanna normal mouse!!!
I see all these earnest laptop people in airports and cafes, ostentatiously tapping and doing the tickle and click thing, being Sooo kewl.  And I just sooo hope that they will spill their flat whites on the keyboard and produce a rilly amazing SFX - sparks & smoke laptop meltdown display.  But it never happens.

OK.  Count to Ten.  Breathe in thru the nose.  Out from the mouse.  Er .. mouth. 

Dunedin: like Wellington without the charming harbour.  Yes, they do have a harbour, but not as pretty as Wgtn on a fine day.  But, like Wgtn it does have ODD people in the central city.  40-ish guys in grubby grey trackies with back packs and really bad hair.  (In AKL they hide under bridges or stay in Papakura.)

Positives:  $2.00 for four hours parking.  Also there is a women's clothing shop called Hype - in the Meridian Mall where they have a Massage Chair for the guys who have partners trying on clothing and doing the girlie shopping thing.  Fantastic.  I got a free robotic back rub for 15 mins while the ladies stroked and sniffed and generally checked out apparel, as only ladies can. 
The only problem I see is when the guy is lying in the Massage Chair with his eyes closed, saying 'Oh yeah. Mmmm, oh baby.  Ohhh YEAH!'
Meanwhile the women in the changing cubicles are thinking that the guy is perving thru the crack in the curtains.