Blue For You...

I was complaining to my neighbor that I was having trouble with ants invading my kitchen. He suggested a sure fire way of ridding my house of these tiny pests.

“I’ve got a mate” He started, “He’ll get some Heroin for you to sprinkle around their nest and they will go away.”

A few days later he was back with the bag of white powder which he sprinkled around the nest.

I didn’t see an ant for over a week, but then they came back and stole my DVD player…

A drunk gets up from the bar and staggers toward for the toilet. A few minutes later there is a blood curdling scream from the toilets.

A few minutes later another terrible scream is heard coming from the Mens Room.

The bartender gets up and goes to find out why the drunk keeps screaming like that.

“Why all the screaming in there?” he asks “You're scaring all my customers.”

“I’m just sitting here on the toilet and every time I flush something grabs my balls and squeezes the heck out of them.”

With that the barman opens the door to survey the damage, he looks at the scene before him for a few seconds before he says,

“You idiot, you’re sitting on the mop bucket!”

A bloke walks into a pub and sees a notice above the bar that reads:

Cheese sandwich: $2.00

Chicken sandwich: $3.50

Hand Jobs: $10.00

He walks up to the bar and beckons to one of the exceptionally attractive blondes serving drinks to the large group of men.

“Yes?” she inquires with a knowing smile. “Can I help you?”

“I was wondering,” whispers the man, “are you the one who gives the hand jobs?”

“Yes,” she replies, “indeed I am.”

The man replies, “Well, wash your hands. I want a cheese sandwich!”

You know how it is as you get older? Every time you see a doctor you leave with yet another prescription for drugs you have to take for the rest of your life?

Recently my doctor prescribed half a Viagra before bed. It’s not helping my love life any, but at least I don’t roll out of bed during the night any more…

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Part Two

When I was young and foolish… I’m not young anymore!

I did some foolish things; some of them were legal, so they can be told here.

I had to have two serious hip operations one a few weeks after the other, so I set my dirt bike up in the spare room and pulled it to pieces. I got together all the paints, parts and tools for a full rebuild.

When I got out of hospital on crutches I started the painstaking job of rebuilding it. You may have read the first part of this story and know that I got myself into a lot of trouble with my girl friend at the time for riding a drag bike not long after getting out of hospital.

While not in the dog house I was building up my bike…

At first I did the small bits and pieces that I was capable of doing, but as I got stronger I managed the motor back into the frame and the wheels back on. Three months later the bike looked just like it did when I bought it new just two years earlier…only more shiny.

Just before going back into hospital I put the bike backward into my shed, right under a roof truss so I could climb it onto the bike.

A week later I was home on crutches again, and bored out of my head…

The bike was done, there was nothing for me to do. Nothing on TV, I couldn’t drive… did I mention that I was bored?

Less than two weeks after surgery I decided to try to start the bike, I clambered up onto the bike holding the truss above it and managed two painful kicks. I hung there for a few minutes and had another kick…mercifully, it started amid a cloud of rebuild oils. It sputtered until the plug cleared then the new motor idled cleanly. I adjusted the carb and since the motor was running so well…I decided to take it around the block…just the once!

Out on the wet roads (did I mention it rained all night?) the motor was crisp, after so long incapacitated I loved the freedom the bike gave me.

Since it was going so well….You know where I’m going with this don’t you?

Nearly an hour later, and far out into the bush I’m going slowly down a well known track to check out a nearby dam then home…..home because my hip is hurting like hell and I need to rest it…but cant. The crutches are leaning on the workbench back home and I can’t walk without them, if I stop I’ll fall over and I wont be able to start the bike anyway.

There is an inch of soft mud over the whole area and as I try to stay on the high ground I feel the bike slide away from me. I cant stop it and so I decide to go down with it and try to save the hip by pressing hard against the bike. Gracefully (almost) the bike slides down the embankment and we end up in a small gully full of mud, the bike on my sore leg.

I had no choice but to use my good leg against the new seat to push the bike up…and over. It crashed against the other side of the gully and I lay there considering the possible scratches on my newly built bike, it’s mud spattered corpse laying against the muddy embankment.

I’m looking about me and the nearest tree is nearly 100 metres away through soft mud and I cant stand (I tried already) I looked at the bandages on my leg and it was spotted with blood so I decide to save the hip by just waiting to be found, even if that takes until tomorrow.

I consider what my girl friend will do to me after that last incident…Hmmm!

Only an hour and a bit later I heard the thump thump of a big 4 stroke bike in the distance, I waited, hoped and willed the bike to come my way. After a while I could tell it was coming my way and presently it turned the corner above me, circled a couple of times looking for somewhere hard enough to stand the bike and stopped. The biker walked over and asked if I was “fucked up or what?”

After a short explanation he dragged my bike from the gully and set it up idling near his bike then came back and helped me up. We struggled through the mud and he just about had to lift me onto my bike. He said he’d follow me until I got to harder ground and let me go. I rode carefully the couple of kilometers to the bitumen with the thumping sound of his bike behind me, as we got near I heard him accelerate away down another track.

I was in a lot of pain, wet through and covered in mud. I wound my way home and turned the bike off as I coasted into the shed; I left it there covered with mud and went straight into the shower.

I rinsed the mud off my clothes and showered, after changing the bandage and noticing a couple of stitches were torn through I washed all the dirty clothes in the house and put dinner on.

SO…when my girl friend got home from work she found all the clothes washed and dinner ready. What a good boyfriend she had…. She didn’t suspect a thing, and didn’t go out to the shed to check the bike. Whew!

A few days later I managed to get the bike out, washed and put away, the crash hurt my leg a lot, but did no long term damage. Even now there is a wide scar on my leg to remind me of those pulled stitches.

I never told any of my friends (who would have told their GF’s, who would have told my GF, who would have killed me!) I never told anyone, ever. This is the first time I’ve told that story.

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It’s up to you.

It’s up to you.

What does that mean anyway? I guess before I ask you to translate it for me, I should ask you which sex you are…believe me, it seems to make a difference.

Let me tell you the story of the first time I heard those four little words and how it shaped my life.

I had to have two serious hip operations, one a few weeks after the other. This was operation one and after a few days I was home on crutches to get stronger ready for the second operation.

Previously, two mates and I had started our first foray into motor sports by buying a Yamaha 750 and were doing it up for drag racing. We put high compression pistons in it, bigger valves and ….and I’m starting to bore you now aren’t I?

How about I just say we opened up the motor and poured many hundreds of dollars into it hoping to make it faster.

The last of the engine bits came as I was in hospital so my mates finished putting it together and made a date and time to meet out at our local drag strip for testing.

I turned up with my girlfriend as I couldn’t walk let alone drive. We looked the bike over and started it up, after a few adjustments the guys took a few runs down the strip, giving it a bit more each successive run.

Just before we left to go home one of my mates asked me if I wanted to have a run down the strip… I looked to my girlfriend who uttered these words.

“It’s up to you!”

Well, if it was up to me then I was going to run it down the strip…obviously!

They put the bike on its stand and helped me onto it; they even had to lift my leg onto the foot peg as I couldn’t do it myself. Then they stood the bike upright and held it that way as I got ready to go.

I gunned the engine and dropped the clutch, my two mates let go as the bike stormed away in a cloud of tyre smoke. It held the front wheel in the air for forty yards with me leaning right on the front to keep it down, it weaved across the track with the rear wheel spinning most of the way down the strip. Wow, what a rush!

By now I was out of track and had to brake hard before I ran off the end of the strip, I turned back and took it easy down the track to cool the motor before shutting it down as I was caught by my mates.

I did notice that my girl was kinda quiet as we packed up to go home, but I didn’t realize just how pissed she was until she had me captive in the car heading back down the road. That’s when I ran headlong into a shit storm of hurricane proportions.

Apparently, in this case ‘it’s up to you’ actually meant ‘Don’t you dare.’

The next couple of weeks were very uncomfortable, she did eventually start speaking to me again and I did eventually get my leg over again, but not for quite some time…

This is part one of this story….

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Back of Beyond

Outback Australia can be an isolated and strange place at times, take for instance my experience last year as I drove the back way from Alice Springs to Gidgialpa Station in North Eastern South Australia.

The water pump on my Toyota failed and I found myself in some quiet little town too small to have a proper name. The local mechanic said it would be two days until parts arrived so I booked a room at the local hotel and went to the bar for a drink.

I found an empty bar stool and ordered a whiskey.

“Sorry mate” said the barman, “we’re not allowed to serve spirits. Local by-law”

“You mean a man can’t get a whiskey around here at all?” I inquired.

“Well,” said the barman, “You could try the chemist. He’s allowed to sell whiskey for medical purposes.”

So off I go to the chemist, where I ask for a shot of their finest whiskey.

The chemist frowned, tut-tutted and shook his head. “Whiskeys for medical purposes,” he said. “You must have a prescription. Why don’t you go see Dr.Bury. His place is just up the road. He might be able to help.”

So off I go to the doctors’ surgery.

“Cant help you son,” The doctor told me. “I’m only allowed to write a prescription for whiskey for someone who’s been bitten by a snake. I suggest you head on down to the shire office. The clerk down there keeps a pet snake.”

Half an hour later I’m back at the bar and asking for a beer.

“Couldn’t get a whiskey then?” asked the barman.

“Nah,” says I, “The bloody snake’s booked up for the next three weeks.”

Australia V New Zealand

For those of you from other countries who will not know it, this is just to let you know that Australians and New Zealanders (who come from the same stock) love to poke fun at each other. You will have the same rivalry between states or close countries where you live I’m sure.

All jokes aside though we are great friends with much in common like… er, then there's.. um! …..I’ll get back to you.

Generally we kick their asses in cricket and by padding their teams with huge Maori they wipe us up at Rugby. They like to make fun at our Aussie Strine (our version of ‘English’) and we like to tease them about their strange and unfamiliar accents.

We love to point out that they have far too many sheep to be JUST farming them and the jokes kinda go like this…

*Boy. “Dad, dad, I got lucky and had sex for the first time last night”

Dad. “That’s great son, how was it?”

Boy. “ It was great right up until her mother saw us doing it”

Dad. “Gosh, that’s bad…what did she say?”

Boy. “ Bahhhh!”

*The New Zealand seven dwarfs went off to work in the mine one day, while Snow White stayed at home to do the housework and cook their lunch.
However when she went to the mine to deliver their lunches, she found there had been a cave-in, and there was no sign of the dwarfs.
Tearfully she yelled in to the mine entrance: "hello - is anyone there. Can anyone hear me".
A voice floated up from the bowels of the mine:
" Australia will win the Rugby World Cup"
"Thank god" said Snow White "at least Dopey's still alive"

*Two Aussie cattle drovers standing in an Outback bar.
One asked, "What are you up to, Mate?"
Ahh, I'm takin' a mob of 6000 cattle from Goondiwindi to Gympie."
"Oh yeah ... and what route are you takin'?"
"Ah, prob'ly the Missus; after all, she stuck by me all these years."

*Why does New Zealand have some of the fastest race horses in the world?
Because the horses have seen what they do with their sheep.

*An Australian ventriloquist visiting New Zealand walks into a small village and sees a local sitting on his veranda patting his dog.
He figures he'll have a little fun, so he says to a local ,
'G'day, mind if I talk to your dog?'
Villager: 'The dog doesn't talk, you stupid Aussie.'
Ventriloquist: 'Hello dog, how's it going mate?'
Dog: 'Yeah, doin' all right.'
Kiwi (look of extreme shock)
Ventriloquist: 'Is this villager your owner?' (pointing at the Villager)
Dog: 'Yep'
Ventriloquist: 'How does he treat you?'
Dog: 'Yeah, real good. He walks me twice a day, feeds me great food And takes me to the lake once a week to play.'
Kiwi: (look of utter disbelief)
Ventriloquist: 'Mind if I talk to your horse?'
Kiwi: 'Uh, the horse doesn't talk either....I think.'
Ventriloquist: 'Hey horse, how's it going?'
Horse: 'Cool'
Kiwi: (absolutely dumbfounded)
Ventriloquist: 'Is this your owner?' (Pointing at the villager)
Horse: 'Yep'
Ventriloquist: How does he treat you?
Horse: 'Pretty good, thanks for asking. He rides me regularly, Brushes me down often and keeps me in the shed to protect me from the Elements..'
Kiwi: (total look of amazement)
Ventriloquist: 'Mind if I talk to your sheep?'
Kiwi: (in a panic) 'The sheep's a f***ing liar.

*Wiremu, a New Zealander, was in Australia to watch the upcoming Rugby World Cup and was not feeling well, so he decided to see a doctor.
"Hey doc, I dun't feel so good, ey" said Wiremu.
The Aussie doctor gave him a thorough examination and informed Wiremu that he had long existing and advanced prostate problem and that the only cure was testicular removal.
"No way doc" replied Wiremu "I'm gitting a sicond opinion ey!"
The second Aussie doctor gave Wiremu the same diagnosis and also advised him that testicular removal was the only cure. Not surprisingly, Wiremu refused the treatment.
Wiremu was devastated, but with the Rugby World Cup just around the corner he found an expat Kiwi doctor and decided to get one last opinion from someone he could trust.
The Kiwi doctor examined him and said: "Wiremu Cuzzy Bro, you huv Prostate suckness ey."
"What's the cure thin doc ?" asked Wiremu hoping for a different answer.
"Wull, Wiremu", said the Kiwi doctor "Wi're gonna huv to cut off your balls."
"Phew, thunk god for thut!" said Wiremu, "those Aussie bastards wanted to take my test tickets off me!"

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Flipper and Fish finger ..

Until recently I had a big dog...a big unfriendly dog!

He wasn’t always unfriendly, he just got grumpier as he got older, and he got old…

Regulars here will know his story and perhaps you’re wondering why I’m bringing it up… Fish, that’s why!

I also have a small pond with a couple of goldfish in it, I carefully selected gold goldfish so if they died (which they did) I could replace them without my daughter knowing her pets had been replaced.

Flipper and Fish Finger lived through many, many reincarnations.

Recently the dog died and the Grandkids could finally and for the first time ever go out into my back yard. The first time they ventured forth they were timid and constantly on the lookout for the big dog but soon learned that my yard has many cool hiding places for kids.

It came to pass that I was working on their parents car (my daughter and son-in-law) when one of the kids came to tell me that the fish ‘feel funny’.

I gave them the ‘fish are to look at and not touch’ talk but the next morning they were floating belly up.

Who’d have thought that having a big grumpy dog would mean your fish live longer?

Aside: Only a couple of years ago my now adult daughter said her goldfish must be the longest lived fish she ever heard about...I told her the truth...and about Santa and the Easter Bunny.

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These are the only pics of one of the fish..(no idea which is which or which reincarnation this one was) But as you can see it was for a Photoshop trick. (no fish were harmed during this photo)

..so it continues

What do you know, the bottom looks like it will fit. (don't look too closely at the edges)

Looking from the front at the fitted floor and inside of the canoe.

Does this look finished to you....you wouldn't believe the amount of work still to do at this point.

About here I was thinking I was on the home stretch.. Dream on!

After putting the sides together and joining in the floor sections with wooden batons, stainless screws and lots of waterproof wood glue, all that remains is to plane, sand and make the joints all look good with filler and sandpaper before painting.
Sounds easy doesn’t it?

This whole section was just one sentence in the plans but took many weeks to do.
Plane the edges to perfection…took a week. Sand the joints smooth as a babies bottom… another week.
I filled the many screw holes and fibreglassed the stem and stern posts* into the boat then discovered that fiberglass resin is not the right resin for the job.
The plans were a budget set and when I checked I found the resin they recommended is not at all suitable for wood.
In a panic I consulted the web forums… to find out that I had no option but to tear the fiberglass and resin out of the boat and start again… Easier said than done, I had to pry the edges up with screw drivers, tire irons and anything else that came to hand. (there was some hammering) Then I pulled the fiber glass off with pliers, it actually tore the surface of the wood off with the fiberglass and I had to sand it all smooth again in the tightest of areas. (another two weeks effort and a little weeping)
With the right shipbuilding grade Epoxy Resin and fiberglass cloth I started back where I had been weeks earlier by glassing the stem and stern posts* and refilling the screw holes and gouges I’d made removing the original dodgy fiberglass. (mutter, swear)
Making filler from sifted sawdust and Epoxy Resin** then filling every tiny hollow took another week. Filling the bits I missed, sanding again, another fill and another sanding etc.
It was about here that I learned just how hard Epoxy Resin actually is. It’s a mixture of several nasty chemicals in a two part mix that sets faster than you want it to, then continues to harden until it’s so hard you cant sand it…
It’s so damn tough that it blunts sandpaper in seconds…and I MIGHT have used a little too much of it and had to sand most of it off to get the smooth surface I needed. I ended up using two hundred dollars worth of sandpaper, boxes and boxes of the very best quality paper I could buy.

As an aside I bought over 50 new paintbrushes and used them all just once.
The resin sets in just 5 minutes and the brushes cant be washed clean. Cheap brushes loose bristles into the coating so you have to use good quality brushes. If it’s not hot you might get 7 minutes to spread the resin before you have to throw the brush and unused resin away, mix more resin and start again with a new brush and container.

*The wooden sticky-uppy things at the front and back where the sides join.
**The official way of doing it…can you see why I don’t work with wood? Dodgy stuff..



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Wouldn't you know it...

We have just one Formula 500 meeting at our local track this season and it's this weekend.. It will be a good meeting as we've had rain all afternoon today making for a nice damp track and fast racing but...
Our number one driver had to have a full knee reconstruction two weeks ago and he's still not walking without crutches. He wont be racing this week... ( a football injury)
Our number two driver had to change his license from the saloon car to the Formula 500 and it still hasn't come through so he wont be racing either..

A chance to fly the colors locally and we miss out!

Not a happy team.


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Ah, memories!

My XJ750 before the fairing was color matched to the nice bright red paintwork.

Ah, memories! (Better retell them before the Alzheimer's sets in)


Over the years I’ve ridden many motorbikes but one ride sticks in my memory particularly well. The first time I rode a Harley Davidson…

Being raised on Japanese bikes I’d got used to bikes that start, stop and go very well, every time you want them to.
At the time I had a new and particularly fast Yamaha XJ750 and I met a bloke with a hardtail sporster chopper, he wanted very much to ride my bike and offered his as a trade for a rip around the block. I accepted the deal because…well, at just 19 I didn’t know any better.
I started the motor and got used to the shake and vibration of the big V twin… Hmm, none of my Jap bikes ever shook like that! (couldn’t even see the mirrors)
I snicked it into gear and found it still wasn’t… I found I had to stomp on the gear lever and it eventually crashed into gear with a shudder, I wasn’t so sure I was getting the best of this deal any more.
I let out the heavy clutch and the thing moved off with all the effort of a locomotive.
As I accelerated down the street I became aware of the incredible weight and power of this thing, not light, punchy and screaming like my Yamaha but throbbing and full of torque.
I settled into the seat and took the attitude of a Harley rider.. “yeah, F*** you!”

I heaved up on the gear shift and it went through the gears with the usual crunch, then accelerated away strongly…I was liking this big beast.
All to soon the end of the street came up and I eased back on the throttle and applied the brakes…Nothing!
I squeezed harder and the thing just kept going, it weighed twice what the Yammy weighed. (like the afore mentioned locomotive)
In the end I was standing on the foot brake and squeezing as hard as I could at the hand brake as it eventually started to slow, all the while the corner was coming up fast.
I had no choice but to turn as it hurtled into the T junction so I leaned into the corner…Nothing! It kept going straight ahead, those long forks prevented it going where it was pointed.
At this point and with the hackles standing up on my neck I gave the brakes everything I had and as it overshot the corner I aimed for the footpath on the opposite side of the road. If there had been any cars coming....
Slowing to nearly walking pace I managed to turn the beast along the street and with shaking hands rode the rest of the way around the block like granny going to church.
I couldn’t wait to get off it, my love affair with Harleys over.
My new friend was soon back with the Yamaha enthusing about it’s lightness, power, it’s incredible brakes and it’s ability to corner like it was on rails.

To be fair I’ve ridden other Harleys sine then and they were somewhat better but when you go Jap… you never go back!



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What men say...what men actually mean

"I'M GOING FISHING":
Translated: I'm going to drink myself dangerously stupid, and sit in a boat with a stick in my hand, while the fish swim by in complete safety."

"IT'S A GUY THING"
Translated: "There is no rational thought pattern connected with it, and you have no chance at all of making it logical".

"CAN I HELP WITH DINNER?"
Translated: "Why isn't it already on the table?"

"UH HUH, SURE HONEY," or, "YES, DEAR."
Translated: Absolutely nothing. It's a conditioned response.

"IT WOULD TAKE TOO LONG TO EXPLAIN"
Translated: "I haven't the foggiest."

"I WAS LISTENING TO YOU. IT'S JUST . . . I HAVE LOTS OF THINGS ON MY MIND."
Translated: "Is that woman over there wearing a bra?"

"TAKE A BREAK HONEY, YOU'RE WORKING TOO HARD".
Translated: "I can't hear the game over the vacuum cleaner."

"THAT'S INTERESTING, DEAR."
Translated: "Are you still talking?"

"YOU KNOW HOW BAD MY MEMORY IS."
Translated: "I remember the theme song to "F-Troop," the address of the first girl I ever kissed, the license plate numbers of every car I've ever owned, I just forgot your birthday."

"I DUNNO . . . I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT YOU, AND I GOT YOU THESE ROSES. . ."
Translated: "The girl selling them on the corner was a real babe."

"OH, DON'T FUSS. I JUST CUT MYSELF, IT'S NO BIG DEAL."
Translated: "I have actually severed a limb, but I will bleed to death before I admit that I am hurt."

"I'VE GOT MY REASONS FOR WHAT I'M DOING".
Translated: ". . . and I sure hope I think of some soon."

"I CAN'T FIND IT."
Translated: "It didn't fall into my out stretched hands, so I'm completely clueless."

"WHAT DID I DO THIS TIME?"
Translated: "What did you catch me at?"

"I HEARD YOU."
Translated: "I have no idea what you just said, and am hoping desperately that I can fake it well enough so that you don't find out."

"YOU LOOK TERRIFIC."
Translated: "Oh God, please don't try on MORE clothes."

"I'M NOT LOST. I KNOW EXACTLY WHERE WE ARE."
Translated: "No one will ever see us alive again."



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