An Open Letter To Other Men

Do you wonder about ‘that’ girl?
The type your mother warned you about.
The really bad girls, the sort that gets grounded for embarrassing rugby teams with their foul language and vulgar habits.

Intriguing, aren’t they, but could we really handle it?
Just imagine a woman that’s more up for it, more grubby, infantile and disgusting that we are!
A girl who wouldn’t just call your bluff, she’d come round and kidnap it, tattoo a rude picture on it’s arse, spray it with shaving cream and post a picture of it on the internet.

The whole things a minefield.
Get it wrong and she’ll blow your head off; get it right and she’ll blow you in front of your mates.
All I would say is, if you’re going to try the rudeboy approach out there, you better be prepared to accept the consequences.

As Groucho Marx once said
“I could never get involved with the sort of woman that would get involved with a man like me”

Shh! Don’t tell ‘them’

Have you noticed how you need the internet for damn near everything these days? Not just for registering programs or downloading updates but also for registering product guarantees or signing up for just about everything.
No longer do new products come with manuals, now we must get on the net just to find out how something works…or should work.

More and more it’s a case of ‘Us and Them’.
Those with internet…and those without.

I acquaint this to survival of the fittest, we ‘fit’ people will continue to thrive and prosper according to our internet connection and the poor, sad ‘unfit’ people without internet will surely suffer and die under a pile of unallocated guarantees and dodgy products they were unable to claim for.
Surely early modern man could see that the Neanderthals were doomed, but did he help them to survive? Hell No!
Do we really want our standard of living…and that of our children in the future compromised by having us help these poor unfortunates?!

I put it to you that we owe it to ourselves, our children and our children’s children to simply let nature take its course.
Quietly and without fanfare we should just go about our business and pretend to listen and care when the ID (internet deprived) complain about needing the ‘bloody internet’ for everything these days, nod politely in sure and certain knowledge that we are witnessing the extinction of a lesser sub species of modern man/woman.
Of course we are going to lose friends and family in this ‘great extinction’.
Grand dad and grandma, aged aunts and uncles and maybe a few recalcitrant offspring, but no one important..
Thankfully, most of my family have joined me among the rest of ‘us’, and most of my favourite people have internet already.. But I’m sure going to miss my ex-wife… ..what am I saying?!....

We were never there!

Let me set the scene…It’s late at night in S.A.’s largest city, Brent and I have already had a few drinks. (alright, a lot of drinks) But we’re still looking very smart in our suits, looking more like a couple of off duty cops than revellers, we slide up to the nightclub doorman who immediately greets us like old friends. We had expected some trouble getting into one of Adelaide’s top clubs but he just takes our money, forces food into our hands and lets us in with a very strange comment… “Have a good night… BOYS”. That might not sound like a strange comment at first but the way he said “boys” had me wondering what he meant by that…we found out soon enough.
The overcrowded club was stuffed with beautiful people drinking and chatting, we paid out our small fortune for a couple of drinks and immediately started looking cool. No one gave us a second look as we wondered about, it was too crowded to find an empty chair or table so a spare couple of square feet somewhere at the back was as good as it got.
Within a short time the music started and a very beautiful woman took the stage and her clothes off. For some reason still quite unknown to me, our attention was seized by the girl taking her gear off and it was some time before I looked about me. I looked over at the bar, far distant from where we were, it was about 20 deep with blokes buying drinks…slowly something dawned on me.
I looked about me to suddenly realise that we two blokes were standing amid all the women… watching a female stripper. (you're with me now, aren’t you?)
In the darkness of the club all I could see near me was shadows, shadows holding hands, shadows touching each other, shadows nuzzling partners. So… our chances of picking up girls suddenly started to seem remote! Undaunted, Brent was happy to continue trying…
In due course the 4 or 5 female strippers were done and there followed a similar number of male strippers, this was our cue to move to the bar with all the women as all the men gravitated toward the stage… and so it went all evening.
In the end, so long as we looked away often...and suppressed certain images forever, neither the gay males nor the gay females cared that we were there and we continued drinking until we didn't care either…
On the way out the huge sign out the front said it clearly enough, but somehow we missed it. Gay night, gay night gay night!
..and the point of all this? I don’t know, still trying to work that out…

Copyright Infringement Day

This is a 'float' (which I'm sure it wouldn't..love to try though) Trying hard to look like what it is not!



Don't tell me we don't know how to look after children out here...All behind bars, like they should be!! (repeat serial offenders, 'Excessive Giggling')



Copyright infringement #3612436543B



The big man himself. (skinny man in a fat suit wearing fake beard and polyester suit in an Australian summer)



Here in Australia we have this little custom, I don’t know where it came from but it involves fake snow, fake reindeer and a fake fat bloke in a red suit and fake beard all lumbering down the main street accompanied by various ‘floats’ in 40 degree heat. (105deg F)
For those of you who don’t know, a float is a contraption built onto a truck or trailer trying to look like something completely different, from dinosaurs to fairy castles… I cant look at one of these things without wondering how it would go in a demolition derby …and I’m pretty sure that would attract more enthusiastic onlookers..
This year was no different, bored parents looking on as their kids and grandkids scuttle about grabbing lollies thrown by strangers dressed as clowns. I didn't meet a single adult who was happy to be there…but thousands of kids who were wrapped in every tinsel covered lie.
The aim of the day seems to be to fill every pocket with lollies then fill your belly with Fairy Foss, chips, ice cream and drinks then try to make it home without spraying the inside of the car with partially digested junk food... and while we’re on about the aim of the day there seems to be no end of copyright infringements, one could almost think there seems to be a deliberate attempt to bring publicity by law suit.
But here’s the thing…all year we teach our kids about stranger danger and insist they are careful in everything they do and say…then this one day we encourage them to take candy from strangers and push them forward to cuddle ‘Santa’.
I’m thinking it’s time to cancel Christmas and replace it with something more relevant… like ‘national pelt a stranger with lollies day’.

The Big Hunt

ROXY


Some of you will know that I own two fox terriers, one large kinda fat one and a younger miniature, both female and both feisty.
Tonight they were laying comatose on their bed in the laundry as usual when all of a sudden all hell broke loose. I was alerted by buckets and laundry bin flying around the room and all the din that created. Nala has always been lazy and the idea of actually attacking anything was left to the contents of the dinner bowl, but Roxy has always had a killer instinct. (yeah I know… don’t let your daughters name your dogs!)
I rushed as best I can and closed the door behind me, the object of their interest was hiding behind the mop bucket. I caught a glimpse of the mighty beast…a grey house mouse.
I gee’d them up with tender words of encouragement like ‘GET THE FU**ING THING’… I don’t know quite how, but it’s clear that Fox Terriers understand swear words… and clearly understood my intent.
Suitably stirred up I moved the mop bucket and they raced in after their quarry which ran straight over Roxy’s head, down her back and seemingly away scot free.
I held no great hopes for Narla, she grabbed a mouse once and couldn’t spit it out quickly enough… the fur was like…Oooo yuk! (it got away) But this time she was up to the task and grabbed the suicidal beast.
I say suicidal because… really, here’s a small room with two bored hunting dogs in it…and nowhere to hide. This mouse either was sick of life or had delusions of grandeur. Either way the end was swift, followed by her usual Oooo yuk! dummy spit, where upon Roxy did her usual thing by grabbing it and running off into the house to prevent me giving it a decent burial.
I'm thinking it would be easier to get on my hands and knees and catch it myself than getting it off Roxy, one day she might actually bite me I think. Feisty little bugger! I hate playing tug of war with mice...you’re never quite sure how it might end.
But today was actually a milestone, they’ve learned to hunt as a pack and made a combined kill. Pity any fool mouse that comes their way in the future.

WHATS LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT ?

IMPRESSED YET!



...THE POINT OF ALL THIS AFTER ALL..



...AND AREN'T THEY SO IMPRESSED?!


A friend of a friend had been cheating on her boyfriend for some time, she told him she no longer loved him, put on her makeup and headed out to a club to meet up with her lover. Bad enough to behave like that…even worse when there’s a child involved. Her mother went to the club and dragged her daughter out and made her go home to sort things out properly. This event became a round table discussion with my daughters with interesting insights…my daughters are now grown women, with ideas and opinions all their own. Thankfully they are quite level headed and tend to see beyond the superficial. (or so they would have me believe) LOL
The point was made that this woman was in fact probably just bored, not out of love with her man, nor in love with the new guy…just bored with her lot, and she somehow figured she had the right to drag everyone through this crap just so she could jazz up her life for a while.
For thousands of years at least, womankind has settled for who they were told to marry, or whoever was able to pay the required dowry. Love, they were assured, came later.
For most it seemed to work well enough (in terms of child rearing) but for the last hundred years or so the all conquering primal reason to marry a particular person has been ‘LOVE’…so what is love anyway?
Is it not just that urge to breed with a particular person?...and are we that different to dogs, cats or other primates. Whether driven by physical attraction, hormones, pheromones, loneliness or some other unfathomable reason. We all find some people attractive beyond measure, deep eyes, a warm smile, the curve of a neck or the more base reasons like big boobs or ‘come get me’ behaviour. These are usually pretty poor reasons to choose a life partner though, usually ending in marital disaster. It seems ‘love’ does not always last…and each person seems to have a differing opinion of what love really is anyway. Around 50% of modern marriages fail...but that does not take into account the relationships that don’t make it to marriage before failing...it seems we aren’t very good at choosing life partners.
There are arguments to be made about women’s rights, assaults within marriage, freedom to choose and lots more besides and I really don’t want to go there because if I did, this would be a book, not a blog! I think we can just accept that over time men have made the rules to suit themselves and it’s well beyond time that it changed…and it has, or is changing for the better!...isn’t it?
So, do you choose a partner based on love and sex...or do you choose a partner based on respect, intelligence, civility, warm-heartedness or some other real and apparently fathomable reason? …Does it really matter anyway, or is it just a matter of different strokes.
Where do I stand on all this?...I’m a male so I got nuthin!

Actually, when I think about it..I think I’ve just fallen into relationships without really considering much of anything…maybe it’s time to actually have a plan!


Anyone got a spare plan I could use?

Nutters

In the entire time it’s taken for me to grow up and get old, cars have been the standard form of travel for us Aussies. From popping down the shop or the school run to the drive to work and of course the obligatory weekend ‘drive’ for seemingly no reason except to see things zip past the tightly wound windows.
Insulated from the world outside I blast down the road casting dispersions at other motorists that seemingly have no idea that I’m more important than they are. Casually muttering obscene suggestions of physical impossibilities and my personal assorted theories on their grim genealogy.
If they have a worse car it’s because they're dopers, pissheads or worse…and if they have a better car it’s because they’re doing something illegal, immoral or depriving some honest person of his/her share of ill gotten gains…good people drive cars just like mine!
Of course it’s not my fault that I need to waste the earths resources…the busses don’t go where I need them to go and they have the most inconvenient timetables, fancy going somewhere at the hour, every hour…or having to wait part of an hour to catch one going back toward home…ridiculous! (the desk jockey that made those rules clearly does not take the bus!)
Then there are those who ‘choose’ to walk…come on now! No one ‘chooses’ to walk…. They have to be crims or nutters that aren’t allowed to drive, or just maybe a few of them are waiting for their mechanic to call to say their car is ready to be picked up…by taxi!
But I suspect that the biggest majority of them are just nutters who have no idea what they’re missing, or are too far out of it to know they should have bought a car…
Sometimes when I get somewhere I have to actually get out of my car and mix with the rabble (gag, choke) But the same rules apply as in the car...eyes straight forward, no eye contact and for god sake don’t smile at anyone. Where possible one word answers to all questions, get what you need then back to the goldfish bowl and back on the road.. Ahh! Another social situation carefully avoided…
But lately…with the wisdom of age, I’m wondering if maybe we are all somebody’s idea of nutter.




Nah! That cant be it!

Yeah, the phone...or the nails, what else would I put this up for?


Come on now...you know guys with tatts are HOT!!!


TOO HOT!



Its hot, hot, hot here in South Australia just now. 4 days of 40 degree days and another 3 or 4 to go. Everyone's melting or staying indoors with their air conditioners running flat out day and night. You can imagine just how much that's going to cost! We have a beach close by but low tides are the norm here in Summer with hight tides occurring through the day light hours pretty much only in winter. (god hates us) So we bathe in ankle deep water or swim at night when it's harder to see the White Pointers of which there are quite a few and large ones at that...Want to come here for a holiday yet? Ha, do ya...well do ya?! 'Where the bloody hell are ya?' LOL (yeah, maybe not)

Reactivate......

Hi People, I've been away from my site for so long I'd forgotten where the hell it was even..LOL So! I'm back and ready to blog again. (trust me, you dont want to know)