Set The Tempo

A Guide To Proper Etiquette In The Men's Restroom

2012-02-16T17:34:00.000+10:30

Ever since man crawled out of the primordial ooze, he has built himself
structures to contain the processes of bodily waste removal. These have been
known as "restrooms," "bathrooms," "outhouses," "commodes," "men's rooms," and
several other names. (For Australia add: Thunderbox, Crapper, Bog, Reading Room)
As with any exclusive organization, wholly half the human race aren't allowed through the door, and a number of exceedingly complicated customs have arisen to maintain a sense of order and dignity.

General rules:

1. Don't talk to somebody you don't know. You may chat quietly with an
acquaintance, but must absolutely not call attention to yourself.

2. A quick glance in the mirror is permissible, but absolutely don't spend a
significant time arranging hair, clothing, etc. Zit popping is only
permissible after checking to see nobody else is around.

3. No profanity of any kind. This is reserved for locker rooms, only.

4. If you must wait, form a single-file line, ragged, and be sure to keep
looking around. Read graffiti.

Urinal rules:

11. Given a string of unoccupied urinals, you must choose one on the outside.
When one outside urinal is occupied, use the other side, then middle. Avoid
standing directly next to somebody at all costs.

For example, given seven urinals, here are acceptable configurations:
X...... (X = occupied, . = empty)
X.....X
X..X..X
X.X.X.X
XXX.X.X <-- These are only acceptable when significant
XXX.XXX <-- "privacy" dividers are available. If the
XXXXXXX <-- urinals aren't divided, use a toilet.

12. Always look at the wall. Looking down means you're obsessed or don't know
what you're doing. Looking at other people is threatening.

13. Flushing is optional. Over time, the water will become a rich orange. At
this point, flushing is mandatory.

14. Don't start unzipping until you're protected by the privacy of the urinal.
Don't step back until you've closed your pants again.

Pissing Tips for "Real Men" (Addendum To The Above Rules)

a. Head for the largest open expanse of urinal available. If you stand too close to someone, they will think that you are gay. If you stand too far away from someone, they will think that you think that they are gay.

b. Three shakes only. Two is unhygienic, four is a wank.

c. If you fart, say "Whooaa, what a ripper!"

d. Don't look. Real men never compare sizes.

e. Never use the drying machines or the towels. Walking out with wet hands into the bar looks like the condensation off at least six pitchers.

.

When Women Drink...

2012-02-13T18:23:00.000+10:30

...and thats why we love them...

Air guns and superglue...

2012-02-09T18:28:00.000+10:30

At work we had to staple some wadding under a truck, (long story cut short…) the piss weak hand powered staple gun was broken.

The boss asked if anyone had one at home we could use for this small job, when no one else put up their hand I reluctantly raised mine. A quick drive to my place and I returned with my new, air driven power stapler capable of firing a 40mm staple or nail. (40mm=1 1/2inch)

It takes many sizes of nail or staple but it had the largest in it left over from it's first test firing a few months ago.

After plugging it into the air supply one of our young workers held the gun upward and pulled the trigger to test it…nothing! He tried again…nothing. He yelled to me that it didn't work (I was preparing the wood form board across the workshop)

I yelled back that it had a safety bar on the tip and had to be pushed down on the work piece before it would fire.

He pushed the safety bar down with a finger and promptly fired a staple right through his finger. (much screaming ensued)

The heel (loop end) of the staple was actually embedded in the fingerprint side of his finger with both sides of the staple 3/4inch (20mm) hanging out THROUGH his fingernail.

The blokes wanted to try pulling it out with pliers rather than tell the boss but I insisted the staple…and fool connected to it had to go to hospital.

Yeah, the boss was not happy!

We have this thing here in Australia called WorkSafe. Within fifteen minutes their representative was at the factory asking questions, taking photos and generally making an ass of himself.

In the end the WorkSafe guy wanted to take the gun for testing (which can take up to a year) I refused to allow it seeing as there was no fault in the gun and it was unmodified and fully Australian standards compliant. (and didn't belong to the workshop)

He tried for a full hour to make it fail then gave up and tested it by pushing the safety bar down with a bit of wood before firing it. The scrap of wood exploded with such force he damn near shat himself, he took a few more photos and left!

At the hospital they applied anesthetic, tapped the staple back through until they could get at the heel. Yes… they HIT it back through, then cut the staple flush with the nail on the other side and pulled it through the finger with pliers. (add my hysterical laughing here)

The dumbass is back at work now, his finger is black to the middle knuckle and apparently very tender. (more laughing)

For those of us who didn't know…the correct medical way to seal the holes through the nail and prevent infection was to put a drop of Superglue on each hole. (so damn funny)

..and this goes to show that the Australian educational system is turning out stupid people.. I mean, really. Who could be that stupid? Though I suspect that he has now learned to treat power tools with respect.

The Twilight Zone

2012-02-07T07:47:00.000+10:30

When I dream I like the way the mind flits from the ridiculous to the mundane and back again as freely as if everything is yesterdays news. How the totally weird seems quite plausible in the land of dreams.

Lately though my mind has taken to writing original comedy during it's midnight wanderings and for not the first time I've woken wondering how on earth the mind can write comedy at all while you're asleep. There mingled between the strange and crazy thoughts, snippets of the funny sit comfortably.

In a long series of connected but quite different thoughts I find myself washed up on a busy beach, with no explanation of how I got there I pick myself up and join with other tourists being shown through the small cramped seaside village homes of elderly ladies. One thought she had trained mosquito lava to swim the image of her long lost husband in the water of a baby bath but it turned out to be a cunning ploy by the mosquitoes to farm and harvest her blood. Casually one of my fellow tourists picked up a can of insect spray and with a swipe killed the lot… Her shrieks ring in my ears as we are shown into another cottage.

Another flit of the mind and I'm under a bridge in what might have been old Brooklyn, listening to Ashton Kutcher as he tells me about some woman that had screwed him over and then wrecked her life with drugs. I tell him that ordinary people really didn't care what someone born with a silver spoon and threw it all away did with their lives, that ordinary people had important lives full of life, love and tragedy and were much to busy getting on with their lives to really care much. We contemplate this as we watch a homeless woman cleaning out the inside of a wrecked car in which she will now live…

Another flit and the setting sun reflecting off the panels of that car as it corkscrewed through the trees catches my eye. I know the car and the man inside are being torn apart and it hits me again with a solid thump to the chest…

The birds singing outside my window break through the fog of sleep to welcome the new day and it's time to get up, for me at least…life goes on.

DUCK

2012-02-03T17:25:00.000+10:30

Back when my last dog was getting old I bought a heap of those big square lounge chair cushions from a second hand dealer and set about gluing them all over the inside of the expansive kennel. Eventually the roof, all the walls and floor were lined 100mm (4"0) thick with foam making it a very comfortable even in the hot weather we experience here in Australia. Toward the end of his life (winter) I added a queen sized feather down quilt to keep him warm, eventually though, inevitably, he lost his battle for life. (heart failure)

I hadn't given it much thought until the new puppy chose to move from the temporary cardboard kennel I'd put on the back verandah to the big kennel in the yard. (He tore the big cardboard box into tiny pieces)

I'd noticed a few stray bits of foam here and there and knew he was ripping lumps out of the insulation but I have to admit I was shocked when I came home one afternoon to find the garage strewn with feathers…lots of feathers.

When I opened the doors I found thousands of feathers blowing around the yard and in piles by the kennel door. Max took it upon himself to thoroughly kill the quilt, spreading the feathers everywhere. He greeted me with a wagging tail and stray feathers stuck to his mouth… (sigh!)

I cant imagine what the neighbors thought as for the next few weeks feathers blew around my front yard whenever the garage doors were opened.

Feathers are basically slow release nitrogen so they're actually good for the garden but I'd rather he'd left them in the (expensive) quilt.

In the month since then he's finished rearranging the kennel and let me assure you that foam insulation take no part in his plans. I've had to rake and sweep all the foam up again and again as he takes it upon himself to make the pieces ever smaller.

I'm sure he will regret this when winter comes, though I will of course have to relent and buy more warm things for him.

You've got to be kidding?

2012-01-31T18:26:00.000+10:30

Recently I went to my doctor to arrange an xray for a sore ankle.

The first thing he asked was whether I needed more of the pain killers he prescribed during my last visit, I told him I'd looked them up on the web and found they had several bad side effects and therefore I hadn't taken any and didn't intend to…. he began losing the plot.

We spent the next twenty minutes arguing over who knew my needs better…him or me. (he's been my doctor for less than a year)

Then we argued about why I was refusing to take pain killers that I didn't need…

I mean…really! Since when did doctors start trying to force patients to take medicines they don’t need? I left in a huff but had to make an appointment for the next day to see him about the still sore ankle.

The next day I refused to add to the medicines debate and only referred to my sore foot. (it turned out to be nothing much…I'm just wearing out)

I had the same doctor for 35 years, a straight talking, in your face old school doctor who knew his stuff but had the temerity to retire.. (Hmph!)

Rules for Good Housekeeping (Especially for men!)

2012-01-26T15:14:00.000+10:30

It's Australia day today, time for BBQ's and picnics outdoors usually accompanied by beer. No beer for me just yet, I'm taking the Yamaha out for a spin and don't want to fall off...again!
If you're in the mood for some great jokes I recommend a visit to Mags blog over at wordpress http://magsx2.wordpress.com/author/magsx2/

So anyway, I found this list on a feminist site a little while ago while searching for a counter post for the one I put up a couple of posts ago. As a single bloke I can relate to most of these and confess theres more than a grain of truth in some of them. Enjoy!

It is time to clean out the refrigerator when something closes the door from the inside.
Keep it clean enough for healthy, dirty enough for happy.
Never make fried chicken in the nude.
Do not engage in unarmed combat with a dust bunny big enough to choke the vacuum cleaner.
You make the beds, you do the dishes and six months later you have to start all over again.
If guys were suppose to hang clothes up, door knobs would be bigger.
My idea of housework is to sweep the room with a glance.
Thou shalt not weigh more than thy refrigerator.
Cobwebs artfully draped over lampshades reduce the glare from the bulb, thereby creating a romantic atmosphere.
When writing your name in the dust on the table, omit the date.

Meet Max

2012-01-22T19:55:00.001+10:30

*This is Max the day I brought him home...looks worried doesn't he?

I needed another big dog after losing Stan last year so I eventually forced myself to go looking; there were some self imposed rules: No huge dogs, No long haired dogs, No small dogs, No stupid dogs (three out of fours not bad eh?).

So it was that a beautiful bright white puppy came to join our little pack….Meet Max!

He joins two English Fox Terriers, Narla is a Standard and Roxy is a miniature and they rule the house, I needed a slightly submissive dog to avoid bloodshed.

Max is an American Bull Terrier, my Vet insists he's an American Pit Bull which is a problem here in Australia. We have a Dangerous Dogs Register and the American Pit Bull is on that register. That means more cost to register, higher fences and security gates are required and if they get out the fine is just short of the national debt. I'm negotiating to have him listed as a Bull Terrier which is how he was listed by the breeder who sold him to me.

*Pardon me while save Max, he's jammed himself between the long couch and wall.

*A week later and he seems to be settling in quite well dont you think?

None the less the soft white puppy came into the house at just seven weeks of age and started making it his by peeing on and chewing everything in sight. (I hate training puppies and my winging has burned the ears of my family and friends)

At fourteen weeks he had an appointment at the vet to have his manhood trimmed, micro chipping and vaccinations. As we walked out the front door of my house he promptly ran head long into the aluminum screen door striking it right on its edge, he was delivered to the vet split from nose to the top of his head and dripping with blood… what a start!

Now at eighteen weeks of age he's lived up to that start by being the most clumsy dog I've ever known.

*Pardon me while I go and stop Max chewing up my spindle full of Back Up discs wont you….

Up until this time I'd noticed that American Bull Terriers are always covered in scars and assumed the owners must have been terrible people, I smiled at the thought as it dawned on me..

*He was soon doing jobs around the house...like emptying the bin

Regular visits to the Grand kids and the other dogs in the family has helped to keep him friendly and playful. Although he's still only knee high at his shoulders he is already a very heavy dog and has no trouble bowling over the kids and unwary adults as he careers around like an unguided missile.

Although I've owned an English Staffordshire Bull Terrier, I've had no experience with the American version and I have to say, the American Bull Terrier is much more ugly than it's English equivalent.

What was going through the minds of breeders?

They've increased the height of the Staffy (from which the American Bull Terrier is derived) and bred for a heavier body but why on earth did they breed them that ugly? *Note to self: Might be best not to actually say this bit.

* Apparently he's never heard that you should not bite the hand that feeds you ..or maybe he's just trying out for a job as a body piercer?

*Pardon me while I drag Max away from the Fox Terriers dog treat or Max will be attacked for about the 500th time…

There will be many …. Oh bother, excuse me while I sort out WW3…

Clearly Max is an ongoing project…stay tuned.

(misogynistic) RULES THAT WOMEN COULD FOLLOW

2012-01-19T17:40:00.001+10:30

1. If you think you might be fat, you are. Don't ask us. Just get your ass to a gym.
2. Learn to work the toilet seat: if it's up, put the bloody thing down.
3. Don't cut your hair. Ever. It causes arguments when we comment on it.
4. Birthdays, Valentines, and Anniversaries are not quests to see if we can find the perfect present.......again!
5. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, expect an answer you don't want to hear.
6. Sometimes, we're not thinking about you. Live with it.
7. Anyone can buy condoms.
8. Get rid of your cat. And no, it's not different, it's just like every other cat.
9.Dogs are better than ANY cats.
10.Sunday = Football/Rugby/Any other sport. Let it be.
11. Shopping is not a sport.
12. Anything you wear is fine. Really.
13. You have enough clothes.
14. You have too many shoes.
15. Crying is blackmail. Use it if you must, but don't expect us to respond to it.
16.Your brother is an idiot, your ex-boyfriend is an idiot and your Dad probably is too.
17. Ask for what you want. Subtle hints don't work.
18. Dont throw ANYTHING in the bin without clearing it with us first.
19. Yes, peeing standing up is more difficult than peeing from point blank range. We're bound to miss sometimes.
20. Most blokes own two to three pairs of shoes, so what makes you think we'd be any good at choosing which pair, out of thirty, would look good with your dress?
21.'Yes', 'No' and 'Mmm' are perfectly acceptable answers.
22. A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.
23.Your Mum doesn't have to be our best friend.
24.Foreign films are best left to foreigners.
25.Check your oil. It is an essential part of the car.
26. The relationship is never going to be like it was the first two months we were going out.
27.Don't fake orgasms. We'd rather be ineffective than deceived.
28.Anything we said 6 or 8 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. All comments become null and void after 7 days.
29. Telling us that the models in the men's magazines are airbrushed makes you look jealous and petty and it's certainly not going to deter us from reading them.
30.The male models with the great bodies you see in magazines are all gay.
31.If something we said could be interpreted two ways, and one of the ways makes you sad and angry, we meant the other one.
32. Let us ogle. If we don't look at other women, how can we rate how pretty you are?
33. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during the commercials.
34. Learn to read a map.
35.Women wearing Wonderbras, low-cut blouses, tight tops, no jackets, chest level logo'd t- shirts etc. etc...., lose their right to complain about having their boobs stared at.
36.When we are in bed and look tired this means that we are tired and does not mean that we want to discuss the relationship.
37. If you want some dessert after a meal - have some. You don't have to finish it. You can just taste it if you like but don't say "No, I couldn't/shouldn't/don't want any" and then eat half of mine.
38. Dieting doesn't work without exercise.
39.If you're on a diet it doesn't mean my meals should be rabbit-food as well. A man's four essential food groups are: white meat, red meat, cold beer and cold beer. Please ensure all meals contain a good balance of the above in good quantities - everything else falls under the category 'garnish.'

There you have it, yet another silly list of things we could, would, might do if only....

(if only we were hard at heart and uncaring)

The great water caper of 2006

2012-01-16T17:42:00.002+10:30

I used to work in a factory, not your normal kind of factory...no, this one was still in the dark ages. They had no idea what a computer was, jobs were jotted down on stray bits of paper and often became lost for months, when they eventually surfaced we'd still be expected to know what the job was, who it was for and what the material list was.

The boss drew his mud maps* on real mud.. (this actually happened from time to time as he would draw it out with a stick in the yard and ask me to go make it)

One of our biggest problems though was a total lack of ventilation in this huge tin shed, in an Australian Summer it was quite unbearable; we needed lots of cool water.

We actually had to threaten a strike to be graced an old secondhand fridge to keep our drinks cool…

Each day I would cool two litres of rain water at home ready for the next day in hell, each day I took it in with me and put it in the communal fridge and each day when I needed a drink I would go to the fridge to find that someone had been drinking my water.

Now I'm not all prudish but the thought of these Neanderthals slobbering from my water bottle several times a day did not please me, in fact I would pour the water out, clean the bottle and try again. Day after day, week after week I tried everything to stop them, I put my name on the bottle, I even put half a cup of salt in it one day..

Then one day desperation kicked in and I thought to write on the bottle "I spat in this" (in fact I did, just once so some of them saw me do it)

It worked! They stopped drinking my water and at last I got to have nice cool water all day. (triumph!)

Until one morning when I went to the fridge and found two bottles with "I spat in this" written on them, my mate Jeff had taken my lead and copied the idea… My sense of humor kicked in and I headed to my toolbox to find several different colored textas.

Armed and ready I headed to the fridge..

Under Jeffs written warning I wrote 'So did I' in one color and under that I wrote 'Me too!' in another color, just to finish off I wrote 'And Me'.

An hour later I found his bottle in the bin….

My profuse apologies meant nothing to an upset Jeff…

*A mud map is a rough technical drawing

Ted Mulry Gang - Jump In My Car (1975)

2012-01-13T20:40:00.000+10:30

How about going back in time to Sydney harbor in Australia in 1975

A time when I was a young impressionable teenager.

.

The Secret Place

2012-01-08T18:05:00.004+10:30

Every fisherman has at least one 'special spot' where they take no one else. As a local I have many special places that I dont share, I'm even careful when taking photos not to show anything that would give up the locations.

One such place only fishes at night on a rising tide above 2.6metres, I always fish this spot with my mate Les who is the only other person who knows about it.

We always either do very well here with big fish galore or we get nothing at all..

*The very spot, looking East across the Spencer Gulf to the other side 20km away. This photo was taken right on sunset with the setting sun behind me.

Late one evening we were fishing our spot and getting nothing at all. The sea was flat calm with no wind (possibly why we were catching nothing) The moon was rising over the hills on the opposite side of the Gulf 20km away and shining low across the water making every ripple visible for hundreds of meters, a very comforting vista indeed.

It had been a hot day so we were standing ankle deep in the cool water, the tide had gone out and was now coming back in, making it necessary to take a few steps back every half hour or so. As usual I changed my baits every ten minutes, cutting up the old bait and dropping at my feet to help bring in the fish..

*This large Flathead posed for this one photo and was soon on her way. All Flathead this size are breeding females and we make it a rule to put them back to continue breeding.

It was so quiet and peaceful that I was drifting off to sleep even while standing there, I looked across at Les 20 meters away and he appeared to be asleep on his feet as well.

It had been some time since I'd summoned up the energy to step backward so I was over knee deep in the inky blackness of the rocky foreshore before us.

I knew there were fish out there as every now and then I could feel the rubbing of a fish as it swam past my taught fishing line, I was looking out to sea watching the moonlight flit on the tiny ripples when something caught my eye just to my right; I turned my head slightly and in the shallow moonlit water before me I saw the large mottled tail of a four foot shark about four feet from my legs.

I screamed like a girl and cracked a JC*.

Water splashed everywhere, Les nearly fell over from the shock of it all and I didn't stop running until I was well away from any possibility whatsoever of being dragged screaming back into the water.

*This is all you ever see of a Fiddler until it takes off from under your feet (very scary) or worse...flaps about pinned down by your foot. I say it's scary because we have a lot of common Stingrays which can do you a lot of damage and even Electric Rays...60,000volts anyone? It takes a few seconds of dread fear before you know what you've stepped on.

Les regained his composure and looked at me like I'd completely lost my mind, I gabbled a bit about huge sharks but just came across as a babbling nutter.

Eventually my heartbeat slowed to near normal and sanity began to creep back into my mind... but the fishing was over, any big fish would surely have been scared away by my indiscretion and we were no longer relaxed.

We began slowly packing up to go home, as I cut my remaining bait into pieces and threw it into the sea near where I'd been standing the 'shark' came back in and started picking up the pieces. It was a huge Fiddler Ray, a relative of the Shovel Nosed Shark and completely harmless.

Ive been catching these plentiful rays by hand and letting them go since I was a kid, the trick is to step on the flap of the ray so it cant swim away then simply pick it up by the tail; a neat trick taught to me by my father many, many years ago. You can eat them, but I've never been able to bring myself to kill one.

* This is a small Fiddler but the photo shows the tail which looks quite Shark like in the dark... it was a good thing I was wearing my brown underpants that night...

This one was without a doubt the biggest Fiddler I'd ever seen at around four and a half feet, but I hadn't seen the broad flat head of the beast, only the tail which looked like the tail of any of the common sharks here abouts.

At least Les saw the shark and knew I wasn’t losing my mind…just yet!

*Cracking a JC (Jesus Christ) is Aussie slang for 'walking on water'

This year I'm going to change the world! (maybe!)

2012-01-05T17:34:00.003+10:30

As usual I am starting the new year by solving the great problems of mankind...or rather I'm pondering the great questions that have plagued mankind for the last twelve months in an effort to ~~make a buck,~~ ~~get famous~~, help my fellow man (out of the goodness of my heart)

Ponder with me if you will:

Why do we wait till a pig is dead before we cure it?

Before they invented drawing boards, what did they go back to?

How can someone draw a blank?

How did a fool and his money get together in the first place?

Why is the third hand on a watch called the second hand?

If space is a vacuum, who changes the bags?

If a word in the dictionary was misspelled, how would we know?

Why don't people in Australia call the rest of the world `up over'?

I actually know the answer to that last one.. We are not 'down under', we are in the middle and the rest of the world (ie:YOU) are in the weird place...

Meltdown...

2011-12-27T11:15:00.004+10:30

Well, the old PC finally died...it was kinda old and horrid in the end but like your favorite old shoes it felt good.. I'm stuck with this new laptop which I dislike..but it works!
I took the good advice offered by others and backed up pretty much everything, but this little machine would never hold the 120 programs I had on the other machine let alone the thousands of photos and video. The old machine was 2.25Terrabites...(2250GiG)
It finally died on Boxing day...looks like I'll be searching for a new top end machine this month (sigh!)
I hope your Christmas went well for you and the new year lifts you up even more...

How are you going with your new years resolutions?

About 20yrs ago I got sick of people asking what mine were, so I made a resolution to NEVER make a New Years Resolution again...and I've stuck to it. How many people can say they've never broken their resolutions? LOL

.

Whyalla hailstorm

2011-12-22T18:10:00.001+10:30

This is my footage taken of whats left of my front yard and street. The area where I live got it easy compared to many...such is life!

The Great Storm of 2011

2011-12-18T18:53:00.003+10:30

Whyalla was pounded by a huge hailstorm at 8pm last night, cars wrecked all over the town, trees smashed and brought down, heavy flooding and the power went out. Just now the power was restored..22hrs later. I was lucky because my car was under cover but two of my daughters cars were extensively damaged.
My garden was smashed with the trees stripped of leaves and that nest which had a baby bird in it yesterday...empty today. (feelings of sadness sweep over me)
I took 8 min of video which I will process soon enough...

This car was at the end of my street, windows smashed, all the panels dented. Probably a write off.

Men never really grow up do they?

Our local mall, the Westlands was completely surrounded by a lake.... including inside

Some hailstones were as large as this, but most were golf ball sized.

.

Oops!

2011-12-15T19:03:00.004+10:30

This PC is about to die, it overheated badly while recently editing a friends very bad video footage from a holiday in New Zealand. 6 hours of vid which took an entire day to edit and burn and cook the motherboard etc. It's going now but for how long?
I have a nice laptop but it does not have my favorite web shit on it, my stories and my pictures... when this one dies I will have trouble posting worthwhile stuff.. (dont you say a word..)
Bear with me...

*I took a cheap package tour across the Bass Straight to Tasmania. I should have read the fine print or at least suspected something when it was so cheap… or when they took us past the big boats and into a small dark yard at the end of the docks.

Sure enough I found myself chained to a rowing bench with sixty other suckers who also thought they were onto a bargain. With the drums beating and the lash snapping around our ears we made our way out into the open sea.

I turned to the bloke next to me “Strewth, I hope they're going to fly us back”

He says: “I don’t think so mate, they didn’t last year”

*I’ve been divorced for some time now so I’m nearly over it enough to tell you the story of how it all came to an end.

We were up before the judge seeking a divorce and after hearing both sides of the story the judge gave his verdict.

He glared down at me, “You have obviously neglected this woman and failed in your duty to her.” He scolded. “I thereby award her the sum of $150.00 per week.”

“That’s very good of you, your honor,” I said. “I’ll try to slip her a few bucks myself from time to time.”

*Fred Farmer went to take some money from the bank, he took a slip from the counter and filled it in before getting in line. When he finally got to the front of the line the Teller noticed that Fred had filled in the form using a pencil. “Sorry sir but you’ll have to ink it over.” And gestured back toward the counter.

Fred took his form and went back to start again.

After a time Fred had made his way to the front of the queue and again presented the penciled form. “I’ve thought it over, and I still want the $50.00.”

Six Hours...Bah!

2011-12-14T20:58:00.004+10:30

After the Epoxy coating was put on and rubbed I took a recommended short cut by using car body filler to fix the tiny marks here and there just because I’d got carried away by this stage. Of course I used a really good brand of the best marine type, then sanded it to perfection before putting the first coat of two pack primer over it… (gulp!)

The two pack primer melted the filler and the whole sticky mess had to be scraped and sanded off.

The company who made the filler (3M) and the paint company (International Marine) got their heads together and discovered there was a chemical in the still curing Epoxy* that reacted with the Filler only when exposed to another chemical in the primer. They duly made notes for their information sheets… (Lucky me, making scientific/chemical discoveries in my shed)

Thankfully I’d only had to put filler in a few places so the re-sanding then repainting wasn’t too nasty.

*Freshly painted and glossy

I’d picked out a beautiful dark blue two pack paint which took weeks to get here, I went in and checked it but (foolishly) waited a few days until coming back to pick it up. When I did come back the paint was missing, gone! One of the workers at the paint store had stolen the paint (no one knew who) and they could only order more…or I could take what they did have. With Winter fast approaching I couldn’t wait weeks more so I went through their stock and picked the least nasty paint they had, which is an awful sort of crème. The other reason I couldn’t wait was that I had all the materials and permissions for a new shed and just weeks to have it up and finished, I had to finish the canoe because it had to go outside in the weather until I had a shed to put it in.

*Close enough to finished...

I had the usual dramas putting on the four coats of two pack paint but after what I’d already been through it went smoothly enough.

Finally finished and with 11 coats of epoxy, primers and paints it was put in the water just once in our local marina before being plastic wrapped and put out in the back yard for the long three months of Winter.

The shed is finished now and complete with boat racks close to the roof so I can simply slide the canoe from racks to the boat racks custom made for my trailer and back again… every thing is perfect except for that one little kick in the tail….

*It's one and only time on the water.

During Winter I took a fall off my Yamaha, a seemingly small incident except that I came down heavily on my left shoulder. I felt something give immediately but tried to ignore it hoping it would go away but after several doctors appointments, x-rays, scans and eventually three Cortisone shots into the shoulder I have to admit it isn’t getting any better. There are three new tears in the shoulder to go nicely with the one that was already there. I cant lift my arm above my head, cant lift weight (like the canoe) and certainly cant paddle a canoe until at least three to six months AFTER my full shoulder reconstruction sometime in the second half of next year!

Now you might be thinking I’d be pretty upset about that but I can see the irony in it...

I will eventually get to use the boat and maybe even catch a fish or two from it but the point of it was the challenge to build the boat and whether I can use it or not, I took the challenge and achieved what I started out to do and I feel pretty good about that!

* the Epoxy cures over several weeks but can be finished off well before that.

Best Birds

2011-12-10T19:03:00.003+10:30

This year has been busy…

I've had to clear out and tear down my 20 year old shed to build a much bigger one, as all this was done a few things went missing. A few tools taken by someone who thinks they need them much more than I do, some paint obviously taken by neighborhood kids to paint their bikes etc and a few very strange things too...

*I cant claim to know what kind of bird built this nest but that sure is an egg...sunny side up or easy over?

Among the strange things that went mising I noticed a lot of my plastic cable ties had vanished, I put that down to kids as well. They can be lots of fun you know, putting them around your fingers or wrist until the blood flow stops and the appendage goes numb...or better yet, someone else’s wrist..

..but I digress, as I was wondering around my back yard the other day I found the thief and my cable ties.

I am temped to snatch them back but I cant… They’ve been put to a better use than I would have done and I just cant take them without running the risk of taking a life.

Although we live between the sea and the desert, sticks aren’t that scarce here, we do have twigs to build a nest with… we do have grasses.. Hell, I’ve got a back yard full of nice big native trees planted especially to attract birds.…but in this plastic age and knowing just how long plastics can last I guess we shouldn’t be all that surprised that the birds are looking ahead to nests that last forever and can be used over and over for generations...

A close look at the nest shows plastic zip ties, plastic rope and even multi-strand stainless wire...at least this bird shows good taste for quality materials.

Evenings are especially noisy at my place as hundreds of tiny birds hop about in the trees taking their turn at the bird bath. Many people have commented that I must have a big aviary judging by the sounds coming from my yard but I don't believe in caging birds, I'd much rather watch them doing their thing in peace...except lately. A new kind of bird has found my place much to it's liking and early morning and evenings it's trill warbling song can be heard inside with all the doors closed as it goes on and on until nightfall.
A lovely sound of course but I can see a day, sometime in the future, with head pounding that I wont like it very much at all.
Oh well, that's what I get for encouraging them in the first place..

.

The six hour canoe

2011-12-05T18:54:00.005+10:30

So the pics in the last post about this canoe looked like it was about finished eh?...

That’s what I thought too.

But then I still had the front and rear bulkheads to make, fit a deck front and rear to keep the water out and make room for storage and floatation, then add strengthening strips to keep me on the inside and the water on the outside when I stood up or hit a rock. (Remember this entire boat is made just 6mm or ¼ inch thick)

Again this called for lots of wood glue, screws and a liberal sprinkling of Silicon bronze ring nails. (don’t ask)

*With the bulkheads in, the reinforcing done and the joins all epoxy resin coated and rubbed back.

By the way, the glue dried on my hands in minutes and felt like a second skin which had to be picked off bit by bit for days each time I got even a speck on me, bad enough? Not a bit of it, it also had the strange effect of staining my skin black, this black hands thing lasted pretty much the entire time I was making the canoe. (a harmless enzyme reaction to moist skin) I know what you're thinking…gloves? The glue is so tacky that the gloves fingers stick together within seconds of touching the glue and tear rather than separate…I was like a seal spreading the glue with flippers..

*The first coat of resin inside the boat all done, now to let it dry, rub it back and do it again!

I had something of a crisis of doubts here as it dawned on me that I had to coat the entire boat with the same resin and sand it back three times to encapsulate it.

I stopped work and went back to the web for information, on a forum I found an American who specializes in making these boats, he gave me the information I needed BEFORE I started.

He starts by coating the original plywood sheets with the resin before cutting them up thereby saving himself the huge job of coating and rubbing the boat. It’s much easier to paint and rub a flat sheet and you can use power sanders if you do it on the flat.

*Second coat done...now just one more coat (after rubbing it back)

Three coats of Epoxy Resin were required with a complete overall sanding of every millimeter between every coat because the epoxy dries glossy and the next coat wont stick unless the previous one is sanded… all while wearing a chemical respirator to avoid the poisonous fumes and dust. In fact nearly everything required a respirator, the wood dust while cutting or sanding is dangerous, the Epoxy and the paints are dangerous and anything to do with Fiberglass is dangerous… it was like ‘Darth Vader builds a boat!’

*Three coats of epoxy, holes filled and sanded, hollows filled and sanded and three coats of white 2pack marine primer. Now all I have to do is put the decks on and prime them before the actual painting starts. (enter huge list of doubts here)

Note: I haven't even started the outside of the canoe yet...still raw wood!

.

How to satisfy your partner...

2011-12-01T18:01:00.001+10:30

HOW TO SATISFY A WOMAN EVERY TIME

Caress, chat, praise, pamper, relish, savor, massage, make plans, fix, empathize, serenade, compliment, support, feed, tantalize, bathe, humour, placate, stimulate, stroke, console, purr, hug, coddle, excite, pacify, protect, phone, correspond, anticipate, nuzzle, smooch, toast, minister to, forgive, sacrifice for, ply, accessorize, leave, return, beseech, sublimate, entertain, charm, lug, drag, crawl, treat equally, spackle, oblige, fascinate, attend, implore, bawl, shower, shave, trust, grovel, ignore, tease, defend, coax, clothe, brag about, arouse, acquiesce, fuse, fizz, rationalize, detoxify, sanctify, help, acknowledge, polish, enticing, tempting, upgrade, spoil, embrace, accept, butter-up, hear, understand, jitterbug, locomote, beg, plead, borrow, steal, climb, swim, nurse, resuscitate, repair, patch, super-glue, respect, intimate, entertain, calm, allay, kill for, die for, dream of, promise, deliver, tease, flirt, commit, lecherous, enlist, pine, cajole, murmur, snuggle, snoozle, snurfle, elevate, enervate, alleviate, serve, rub, rib, salve, bite, taste, nibble, gratify, take her places, scuttle like a crab on the ocean floor of her existence, diddle, doodle, hokey-pokey, hanky-panky, crystal blue, persuade, flip, flop, fly, don't care if I die, swing, slip, slide, provocative, slather, mollycoddle, squeeze, moisturize, humidify, lather, tingle, slam-dunk, risqué, keep on rockin' in the free world, wet, slicken, undulate, gelatinize, brush, tingle, dribble, drip, dry, knead, fluff, fold, ingratiate, indulge, wow, dazzle, amaze, flabbergast, enchant, idolize and worship, and then go back, Jack, and do it again.

HOW TO SATISFY A MAN EVERY TIME

Show up naked ... with beer.

Blue For You...

2011-11-27T17:45:00.003+10:30

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…

Part Two

2011-11-24T20:00:00.000+10:30

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.

It’s up to you.

2011-11-22T18:47:00.000+10:30

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….

Back of Beyond

2011-11-20T19:56:00.002+10:30

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

2011-11-17T20:17:00.003+10:30

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!"

Flipper and Fish finger ..

2011-11-14T19:08:00.003+10:30

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.

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

2011-11-10T21:11:00.000+10:30

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...

2011-11-09T18:33:00.000+10:30

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!

2011-11-05T18:32:00.000+10:30

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

2011-11-02T18:34:00.000+10:30

"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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The six hour canoe

2011-10-29T16:52:00.000+10:30

Notice not one but two fire extinguishers... Confidant wasn't I?
This is the offending floor section after the repairs were made and the holes were filled. Dont look too closely at the edges, my sawing isn't the best.

(This was a long project so you will see bits and pieces now and again for a while)
If it looks like something you might have seen on a waterway near you dont be surprised, it's an old American design.
Reputedly the Six Hour Canoe can be built in just six hours... if you’re a ham fisted, rough as guts bushy who doesn’t care how it looks or how long it lasts.
But I tend to get a bit carried away with projects like this.

I was feeling a bit jaded and needed something new, something different.
It’s somewhat well known that the only thing I can build from wood is a decent fire, but what else would you expect from an ex-boy scout...

So what else would I choose but to make a wooden boat.

I’ve had printed plans to make the canoe for nine years now and thought it was just about time to actually make it. As I started I thought it would be easy enough and I could bore you with all the details...but that’s not what my blog is about.
Instead, I’ll tell you about the things that went wrong, and the things that went really, really wrong. (laugh with me now!)

First up you mark up two eight foot sheets of thin, flimsy ply wood and cut out the shapes, remarkably, this went well and I ended up with four bits that make up the sides and two more bits that joined together to make the bottom.
Joining the two side bits together went well enough, lots of glue, a thin cover plate of ply and clamps to hold it all together while it dries, but just where do you join a floor that measures out to 16 feet?
I decided to sweep the cement driveway clean and use that to lay out the pieces nice and flat, again lots of glue, a cover plate of the same marine ply and a big stack of bricks to weigh it all down. Clever eh?

Well, not really, you see the next day when I removed the bricks I found I’d glued the canoe bottom to the driveway and I couldn’t get it up, I had no choice but to use a power sander to slowly sand away the quarter inch thick joining ply. Eventually I was able to lift the sides one bit at a time with only a little damage.
I started gluing again and eventually ended up with all the bits ready to turn into a boat…

The sides came together rather well eventually. This stage took weeks as the stem and stern posts as well as the middle joints all had to be planed exactly to size and shape before I could put it together.

These pics were taken in my old cramped shed before it was torn down to make way for a new much larger shed. Now I've got room to swing a cat...if I had a cat.

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Bloody race cars again?

2011-10-28T21:11:00.000+10:30

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For a long time part of my work for the race team has been to make the bar work for the cars. Chassis, roll cages and bumpers, this includes Nerf Bars for the Formula 500’s. Nerf Bars are the small side bars that prevent cars getting locked together when they collide, what with all the bumping and jostling for place these bars get replaced every few meetings at least.
Up until now I made these bars out of my head, this does not mean I scull a pint of Scotch and go make them*; it means I remember the shrink and expansion rates as well as the lengths to cut and bend the pipes without ever writing them down.
Apparently this is no longer good enough! Now the team has delusions of grandeur everything has to be written down so every man can do every job. YeahRight!
So it was that I committed every length and bend to paper, labeled every sheet and made it as clear as I could.
Two of our team members decided to test the procedure by making a few Nerf Bars all by themselves…
They rang me at home to say:

A: Something’s not right, we seem to have done something wrong, please come and help us work it out.

B: Something’s not right, we’re not sure what’s wrong, please come help us work it out.

C: Something’s not right, your measurements are wrong! We need to change your plans.

If you guessed ‘C’ then you're more right that they were…
They, who had between them made just two bends in their life were sure I, who has made countless bars (ok, sometimes wrong) had got the numbers wrong and they wanted to change and alter my plans.
I went in to save my precious work.
After some time listening to them moan about how I had got it completely wrong I consulted the plans they were using to find they were using the measurements for one car and the bend rates for the other car… An almost understandable mistake as the pages followed each other in the book side by side. EXCEPT that one page had KAWASAKI RACE CAR printed across the top and the other had YAMAHA RACE CAR across the top.
Now and again I do make mistakes, but these bars are made from seamless stainless steel tubing which is very expensive, I triple checked my measurements…I knew they were right. There's only two of us that know how to use the hydraulic bender and I taught the other guy a few weeks ago; no one else can weld the thin stainless tubing but me so I don’t see the point in anyone else doing my work. It only adds to my work load by me having to fix other peoples mistakes. (grumble, mutter)

*though these’s an idea…

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Update..

2011-10-25T18:20:00.000+10:30

This is pretty much all that's left of the car that was supreme just a week ago...

Well the car came back in one piece but with a fair amount of damage. Race one did not go well, the car was sluggish and didn’t want to go. A quick carby re-jetting and it was supplying peak power again. This little car wheelstands the full length of the straight and you have to back off to get the front wheels on the ground long enough to go around the next corner, then it’s back on the power and front wheels off the ground again, lap after lap for the full race.
Toward the end of the second heat and well in front of the pack, a backmarker spun in front of us and we hit him hard… so hard that he went over the top of our car. He ripped the steering off, crushed the Nerf bars, bent the Jacobs Ladder and broke the disc brake rotor and caliper, bent the back axle and tore the big wing off the roof. All because the backmarkers steering wheel fell off in his hands…. He did the same thing in the next race and took out another car, he was black flagged for the rest of the night. (too late she cried)
We had all the new parts on hand so the car was quickly repaired in time for the Final Race…
Half a lap ahead with only a few laps to go the car suddenly lost power and pulled infield and out of the race.
The impact of the accident had critically stretched the control cable to the four carbies and it broke.. (weep!)
I’ve spent the last two days making new Nerf Bars and doing repairs to the body. We have a week off so there is time to fully rebuild the suspension and make ready for the next encounter. Of course we always hope to finish a race so we get the points but racing is often more about luck that good planning. (or whether some twit crashes and takes you out) LOL
Such is life! (Ned Kelly’s last words)

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Questions, questions!

2011-10-23T18:06:00.000+10:30

Our nearest neighbors, the young family down the creek a little.

In the Northern Flinders Rangers and far away from the nearest town I went camping for a few days rest. I took an older friend with me, he’s 65 and new to camping.
I’ll tell you his story and ask for your opinion…

We arrived at this usually crowded spot to find we were one group among only 6 or so small groups sharing thousands of hectares.
We set up camp alongside a small almost dry creek 300 metres from a young family, with about the same distance to a retired couple with their two grand kids on the other side. Late on day two a couple of young twenty something women rode in on their bikes. (cycles, push bikes.. whatever you call them)
They rode around a bit and chose a spot halfway between the two old guys (us) and the grandparents. I assumed they chose this spot as there is safety in numbers and old people are less likely to be axe murderers…maybe!
As they set up their camp I noticed that Kev (my friend) placed his deck chair so he could see their camp…Hmm!
After some time Kev turned to me (remember he’s 65) and said “ That girl fancies me, every time I look over she’s checking me out”.
I thought he was making a joke….

I’d put money on it that she turned to her friend at this point and said “Every time I look over there that creepy old dude is watching me”

Eventually the girls came over and introduced themselves to ask for water for the next few days travel. We chatted for a while and I found the young teacher and her Jeweler friend were riding 900km up through the ranges on an ages old cattle trail. I lament that I am too old to do that sort of thing anymore though my wife and I rode our horses along part of that very trail 30 years ago. (before it became trendy)
While in our camp Kev made several cringe worthy comments about women which the other three of us ignored completely.
The girls left our camp with the water and enough firewood to keep them warm through the night. (wood I’d brought from home, as we must these days)
The next morning they returned the wood they didn’t use, topped up their water and left to continue their adventure.
I was so pissed and embarrassed by his behavior that I spend much of the next two days paying him out every time he opened his mouth.
SO...do you find Kevs behavior creepy? …or is he just a foolish old man who doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up!

A piece of 600 million year old sea bed, 300 metres up in the ranges.

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...and so it begins

2011-10-17T20:21:00.000+10:30

Last season turned out pretty poorly after all that hard work getting ready for the season. We loaned our best car to someone who totally wrecked it. It was new, undriven and season ready when he rolled it every which way, he destroyed the new hand made body I’d built, tore the wheels off and tumbled the thing lengthways along the track.
So begun a rushed rebuild to make the car ready for the season…which had already started.
Although we missed a couple of meetings, the car was made ready and raced, but for the next several meetings it failed every time at the eleventh hour. Each failure was traced back to cracks and fractures coming from that first wreck, the last straw was a complete motor meltdown caused by a partial oil starvation as the motor had continued to run as it rolled. By the time it all became too much and every nut, bolt and replaceable item was replaced it had cost us a full season.
The lesson was learned…. In the off season the two cars have been stripped to the last bolt, everything being crack checked or replaced as a matter of course. New bodywork, new brackets and all these weeks spent crafting one off pieces so everything fits perfectly. Our team manager is a Fitter and Turner Machinist so everything is fitted to exacting specifications.
The two cars are now sitting on their own stands, surrounded by all new tools, flanked by a new spare motor each and several new bodies. They sit with their fully rebuilt Methanol engines ready to fire up, ready to race.
Nothing left to do but wait for the season to start…. This weekend!

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Whimsy

2011-10-14T17:58:00.001+10:30

I’ve been away for a few days camping and relaxing. (code for bored out of my head)
I fell off my Yamaha a while back and wrecked a shoulder, I’d just had three Cortisone injections put in and needed to rest it for a while. I went bush so I would have nothing to do but sit in my comfy chair and/or walk the trails. (both of which are good for resting shoulders)
Several interesting things happened while I was up there in the mountains of the Flinders Rangers S 32° 11.045 E 138° 00.564
One night I woke with my mind buzzing*, in my sleep I’d worked out the meaning of life and couldn’t believe it was so simple. I lay there considering the implications for a while, certain that life would never be the same again. Then I drifted off bent on writing it all down in the morning so I could share my revelations with you all.
I woke the next morning remembering the events of the night before but not remembering the revelation I needed desperately to share.
Damn, now I have to work it out again.

Feeling whimsical and admitting honestly that the only decent thing I could make with wood was a really good fire I decided to combine the two and took my one and only saw horse with me…
Very satisfying!

* I had not been drinking

Why would anyone have children?

2011-09-29T19:47:00.000+09:30

I have three daughters and eleven grandkids… Ahhh! (runs screaming from the room)

Im not bragging, I only tell you this so you’ll feel sorry for me… as you should!

My daughters are all grown up now and each has become wonderful and independent wives, mothers and rulers of their own roost.
Like you, I take the credit when they seem to have inherited something great, and like you I deny I was even there when it suits me.
My oldest two are identical twins, and as different as two people can be. I well remember when they were born, we really only knew which was which at the nappy changes as they had different birth marks…birth marks only their husbands see these days.
My youngest is still full of fire and still very hard to get along with (like her mother :-) given a few years she will be fine, I'm nearly sure….and what a crop of grandkids, as genetically different as nature could have made them.
I guess this means that I’m no longer required genetically, I’ve done my job of reproducing and my girls are doing theirs.
Should I scamper off a cliff somewhere like an outsize Lemming, or pack my swag and go on holidays?*

* I favor the holiday..

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Visit Australia

2011-09-25T18:02:00.000+09:30

Bad dog… Bad Dog!

2011-09-23T18:12:00.000+09:30

It’s been a couple of months now since my old dog Stan died of heart failure, kind of strange since I wasn’t real sure he had a heart.
He was given to me 14 years ago by a friend who had a pure breed Kelpie bitch, his father, it was claimed was another pure Kelpie, it turned out that his father was in fact able to jump a 5 foot iron fence and that is all that is known of him.
Stan was your average nondescript medium black dog with tan bits here and there, his claims to fame would be that he could bite a tennis ball in half at will (he really could) and that he shed like a Buffalo. The winter coat would melt off him 2 inches thick and if you rubbed him vigorously it would fill the air like a hairy black cloud.
Even as a puppy he could chew a misplaced shoe in half before you realized it was missing and his favorite game was ‘Pull the washing off the line…and kill it.’ He cost me thousands of dollars in wrecked clothing before I gave up and fenced off the clothes line.
I should say right here that he was foremost a guard dog, though his idea of guarding was something that seemed to vary somewhat. I watched one day as a neighborhood cat jumped the fence and headed to his food bowl just a couple of feet from where he was laying in the sunshine. At first I thought the cat may have made a big mistake… but he didn’t even look up as the cat helped itself to his dinner then wandered across the yard to jump the fence into the next yard. Speechless!
I saw him another day with Sparrows perched on his sleeping carcass as they to helped themselves to his dry biscuits, hopping about and breaking up their spoils with not a care in the world. It occurred to me then that he got way less of his food than the rest of the hangers on.
People however got the wrath of his aggression and it’s been many years since I’ve trusted him to be around kids,* his ferocious bark and hackles up stance left no one in any doubt that they should stay well clear of him. A brave friend assured me it was all bluff and he proceeded to prove it by walking straight up to him with an outstretched hand to pat him… he was bitten on the hand and face.
With me though he was always the playful puppy he once was and despite his zillion drawbacks I still got along with him very well, he only bit me a few times… accidentally (so he claimed) while playing, but even that was enough to draw blood and hurt like hell.

His worst problem was his mastery of the yard, here was I thinking it was my yard…but I was wrong. Everything that came into his yard had to be pee’d on immediately, and frequently, and if he wanted (and he did want) to crap right in the middle of the path.. who was going to stop him?
He turned the once beautiful garden beds into wallowing pits and chewed trees off to the base, in fact it became a real battle between us to see who could win. Over a few years I planted well over 100 trees and shrubs, I currently have just 36 survivors. (nearly half of which are in the front yard where he couldn’t get at them) His ingenuity knew no bounds, he chewed, he dug and when I caged the trees he pee’d through the mesh until they shriveled and died.
Imagine my yard then, with high mesh fencing around the trees and vegetable garden, around the washing line and compost bins**. With urine stains all along the sheds, the fence and on my park bench, large holes dug here and there, strategically placed to catch you unawares and turn an ankle.
It’s been a couple of months now and the plants have never been more lush and green, the bottom 2 feet of every tree is now growing again and I’m on the lookout for another guard dog…a small guard dog…one I can master.

* Only this week my grand kids have explored my yard for the first time ever..
**He didn’t care much for his dog food but when it came to compost he would eat his fill then come to you for a cuddle…just him and his breath of death.

I am reminded of the first rule of dog training.
Rule one: You must be smarter than the dog.

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iPod People.

2011-09-15T18:12:00.000+09:30

Ever wonder about those people you see about the place with the white cords hanging from their ears?
Nodding their heads in time to some unheard tune, smiling that weird way they do when they see you looking at them.
It may be easy to mistake them for some poor Tourette Syndrome sufferer, but don’t be fooled by their apparently harmless game of musical charades. They’re watching you!
They're watching you and what you do…because they're people watchers!
They observe your gestures and take notes for later… later when they add you as yet another victim of their blog!
..and what makes you think that they're not listening to you as well, you cant hear their music; and just because they bob theirs heads as if to some tune does not mean they actually are…for all you know your discreet conversation is being monitored to be later twisted into a very interesting blog subject.
Or maybe they just wear the earphones to stop people talking to them…it works! (oops! I’ve said too much)
So next time you're close to someone with the little white cords hanging from their ears and you think it’s safe to say what you're actually thinking…you better think again.

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Iron Knob... I always wanted to say that !

2011-09-09T18:57:00.001+09:30

Around here we have lots of Iron Ore. (How Much? I hear you asking)
Well, mountains of it…literally! Thousands of train loads of Iron Ore have already been blasted, railed, melted and smeltered into Steel, with the majority still in the ground. We have roads and paths covered with the stuff. It is so abundant here that it actually is used as a road and track covering with great outcrops of the ore jutting out here and there around this part of the state testifying to the abundance. Compass’s don’t work properly here because of the highly magnetic ores and the very first white people to explore the area noticed that immediately. Of course only the high grade ores are used for steel making, the rest is simply piled up next to the mines or used to cover paths or driveways.
There has always been this story told here that I’ve always wondered about… That our Iron Ore was so concentrated that you could actually weld it..
Wouldn’t that be so cool! To weld a rock?
Recently I had the opportunity to scavenge some high grade ore from the nearby nearly ghost town of Iron Knob…I actually had to bend down and pick it up from the iron ore path I was walking on. (So don’t say I wouldn’t go to great lengths for a good story)
A few days later I was welding and remembered the ore, I set it in a vice, connected the high amperage earth lead to the rock and turned the welder up to where I thought it should be. (Strangely there are no settings in the handbook for the welding of high grade ores)
I put my welders mask on and prepared for the enlightenment, I gently pulled the trigger and watched as the wire wound forward until it touched the rock… nothing!

So after a life time of believing this simple truth it turns out to be complete bullshit, a fable that could have been easily disproved, but I guess no one ever tried.
Strange is it not, that we often consider things to be gospel truth simply because no one ever double checks to make sure?

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Roo Mail

2011-08-31T17:03:00.000+09:30

Out here in the Australian outback sometimes the only way to get something done is to think outside the square.
The Roo Mail was started to cope with the harsh outback conditions that humans are not equipped to deal with.
After running for some time it's been found that the new Roo postal service has backfired somewhat. With their limited intelligence and preoccupation with food and sex it has been found that the Roos are better equipped for managerial positions. The situation now exists where the people do the hard slog out in the bush, crossing the rivers and coping as best they can with the harsh conditions while the Roos battle it out in the board rooms.

Such is Life!

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Who’d own a ute?

2011-08-26T20:48:00.000+09:30

Recently I sold my big Ford sedan and bought a nice little Toyota ute, it seemed like a good idea seeing as there’s just me in the house these days and a ute is very handy to have.
It all went well for a few months, and I learned some things about utes and about people. Firstly, owning a ute means everyone will be calling you up every time they need to pick up or drop off something. I’ve had people wanting to put everything in there from oily car engines to fridges and even horse soil… and I've mostly resisted the urge to comply.
But I recently had a trip to the state capital for a few days and the ute was a complete pain in the ass!
Every time I parked it somewhere I came back to find the tarp lifted and the ute searched for booty. (pirate talk not ghetto lingo)
My huge toolbox lives chained and locked across the tray and is covered by the tarp, one night they even had a go at removing the entire thing. They tried the lock, tried the chain, tried the mounts then gave up and tried to remove the whole box.
Every time I left the ute somewhere I had to move all the stuff from the back and stuff it all into the cab so I could lock it up, putting it all back later so I could drive it again.
This is where my sick sense of humor kicked in and I started looking for ways to ‘use’ this extra attention.
I invented a new and novel to get rid of rubbish, you just pack it into a store bag with a few rocks for weight. The bigger the stores name the better, I had one from an expensive boutique coffee shop packed with two days carefully folded rubbish and a couple of rocks from the motel garden. Sure enough somewhere along my travels that day someone was kind enough to remove the bag from the back of the ute.

City people can be nice like that sometimes…

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Decisions decisions!

2011-08-18T18:35:00.000+09:30

This is Roxy. (Ok, so I've Photoshopped it a bit for fun)

I'm the proud owner of two pure bred Fox Terriers, one lazy older bitch, Narla, and a much younger miniature female who has the killer instinct. I point out that I never encouraged her to hunt, in a country like Australia where even tiny spiders can kill you dead it’s not something you encourage your animals to do.
Roxy, the younger dog finds and kills more mice than most cats could manage, in fact the only thing she likes more than hunting is eating; this dog is very food oriented.
Yesterday while I was busy in the kitchen and the dogs were lying on their bed watching* me.
*code for hoping I’d drop something edible so they could be onto it like a lion on a staggering Wildebeest.

I saw nothing, I heard nothing, but when the small dog flew out of her bed and launched herself at the open Lounge room door I knew there had to be a mouse in the house. By the time I got there all I saw was her back legs hanging out from under my Jason Recliner, a scramble of claws and she was gone… under the chair.
I got to the chair and lifted the back to let her out but I knew from the sudden quiet that her job was already done.
She bounced out with her tail beating wildly, a dog biscuit in her mouth.
The mouse must have taken it from the dog bowl and scampered into the lounge to eat it… but was seen!
She’d chased the mouse and recovered her treat, but clearly the biscuit was much more important to her…and wasn’t she proud of her achievement, parading around for a few minutes before eating her catch.

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These are not my two but show perfectly what Foxies are about.

PS: don't let your kids name your animals...

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Damn!

2011-08-12T18:00:00.000+09:30

I was out with the family enjoying a day out with the motorbikes, between us there are about 8 bikes of various sizes. Mine is a very nice, very new Yamaha TT, at just a year old and without a single mark on it, it is by far the nicest bike in the fleet.
For some reason it usually falls to me to take turns with the kids so they all get a chance to go on the bigger bikes, it was on one of these runs that it all went badly wrong.
Weaving around old cow stalls and over a vast area of succulent weed and concrete the front wheel dropped into a small gutter throwing us both off the bike in the blink of an eye.
One second I’m riding and the next I’m sliding across the concrete on my head and into a brick wall. My grand-daughter Miss8 got a skinned elbow and knee and bruises, here we are a few days later and she seems none the worse for it but I’m not quite so young, so I’m still hurting. I got a bit of concussion and if I’d gone to the doctors and had x-rays (like I should have) I might well have some shoulder damage too, and the leg feels kinda funny….
My beautiful bike has scratches and other damage, I’ve bought the new parts and I’ll do the replacement work myself.
It’s not the bike though, it’s just metal and plastic after all.
It’s the fact that Miss8 could have been seriously hurt that worries me.
After 35 years of riding I know what I’m doing and I was being so careful, too careful. This is not new stuff for me, if it had been one of the newer riders I’d have understood completely but for me it’s just not acceptable.

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Cry Wolf

2011-07-30T17:37:00.001+09:30

I was laying under my trailer grinding clean patches on the frame so I could weld on brackets for my new water tank. As I looked up through the shower of sparks at the floor above, I could see a movement to one side. I stopped grinding as a large Wolf Spider ran across the floor directly over my face…around the edge of the frame it went and disappeared out of sight. Naturally I went back to grinding…
Later I took this photo of the juvenile spider sitting on the mudguard. When I looked away to change camera settings it disappeared without trace.

A few weeks later as I packed to go camping, the spider made an appearance as it leisurely walked across the floor as I was putting gear in…I was obliged to wait for it to cross.
Here we are another six months on and the spider still lives on my trailer somewhere, it’s been all over the state and shared the trailer with me as a bed on several trips. It’s been out bush with the motor bikes many times and lately back and forth with loads of house furniture as my daughter moves house. The trailer is still at my daughters, and today as I walked past it I noticed the spider sitting in the sun, soaking up all the heat it could on this otherwise cool day. It turns out it’s female (the males are smaller) and she’s getting to be quite a big spider now.
An apparently dangerous spider living in complete harmony with a large group of people?
You hear about Australia being full of dangerous animals but you don’t hear that most of them don’t want to interact with people at all… except for Crocodiles ..obviously! and Black snakes.. Sharks.. Box Jellyfish.. Tiger snakes…er! (I think I’ll shut up now)

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Australian Tourism: questions answered

2011-07-25T18:23:00.000+09:30

These questions about Australia were posted on an Australian Tourism website. Obviously the answers came from fellow Aussies.....just trying to help:

Q: Does it ever get windy in Australia? I have never seen it rain on TV, so how do the plants grow? (UK)
A: We import all plants fully grown and then just sit around watching them die.
Q: Will I be able to see kangaroos in the street? (USA)
A: Depends how much you've been drinking.
Q: I want to walk from Perth to Sydney - can I follow the railroad tracks? (Sweden)
A: Sure, it's only three thousand miles, take lots of water...
Q: Are there any ATMs (cash machines) in Australia? Can you send me a list of them in Brisbane, Cairns, Townsville and Hervey Bay? (UK)
A: What did your last slave die of?
Q: Can you give me some information about hippo racing in Australia? (USA)
A: A-fri-ca is the big triangle shaped continent south of Europe. Aus-tra-lia is that big island in the middle of the Pacific which does not... oh forget it. Sure, the hippo racing is every Tuesday night in Kings Cross. Come naked.
Q: Which direction is north in Australia? (USA)
A: Face south and then turn 90 degrees. Contact us when you get here and we'll send the rest of the directions.
Q: Can I bring cutlery into Australia? (UK)
A: Why? Just use your fingers like we do.
Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys' Choir schedule? (USA)
A: Aus-tri-a is that quaint little country bordering Ger-man-y, which is...oh forget it. Sure, the Vienna Boys Choir plays every Tuesday night in Kings Cross, straight after the hippo races. Come naked.
Q: Do you have perfume in Australia? (France)
A: No, WE don't stink.
Q: I have developed a new product that is the fountain of youth. Can you tell me where I can sell it in Australia? (USA)
A: Anywhere significant numbers of Americans gather.
Q: Can I wear high heels in Australia? (UK)
A: You are a British politician, right?
Q: Can you tell me the regions in Tasmania where the female population is smaller than the male population? (Italy)
A: Yes, gay nightclubs.
Q: Do you celebrate Christmas in Australia? (France)
A: Only at Christmas.
Q: Are there killer bees in Australia? (Germany)
A: Not yet, but for you, we'll import them.
Q: Are there supermarkets in Sydney and is milk available all year round? (Germany)
A: No, we are a peaceful civilization of vegan hunter gatherers. Milk is illegal.
Q: Please send a list of all doctors in Australia who can dispense rattlesnake serum. (USA)
A: Rattlesnakes live in A-meri-ca which is where YOU come from. All Australian snakes are perfectly harmless, can be safely handled and make good pets. (OK, so thats a lie)
Q: I have a question about a famous animal in Australia, but I forget its name. It's a kind of bear and lives in trees.(USA)
A: It's called a Drop Bear. They are so called because they drop out of gum trees and eat the brains of anyone walking underneath them. You can scare them off by spraying yourself with human urine before you go out walking.
Q: I was in Australia in 1969 on R+R, and I want to contact the girl I dated while I was staying in Kings Cross. Can you help? (USA)
A: Yes, and you will still have to pay her by the hour.
Q: Will I be able to speak English most places I go? (USA)
A: Yes, but you'll have to learn it first.

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"Come To Australia" by Scared Weird Little Guys

2011-07-22T19:08:00.000+09:30

City Rant

2011-07-17T18:03:00.001+09:30

I did manage to find their offroad parking where looters couldn't steal from my car.

..and check out these cool contraptions for checking out whats going on under your car..wish we had these in the country.

Some of you will know that I live in a largish country city of around 30,000 people, in outback South Australia that makes for a pretty big city.
I had to leave paradise behind last week to travel to the state capital for a family party.
Many of you live in big cities all over the planet, but I’m quite sure that you’re nothing like the weirdos that inhabit the big cities here in OZ.

What is it with city people?
They step off the footpath right in front of you like a sick game of Russian Roulette. In rows they stand, teetering on that last heel and weaving back and forth as if they cant decide whether to career across or not. Then one will step out in front of you…or not. This tends to happen more in direct proportion to the vehicular crowding around you at the time.
Being a Monty Python fan I cant help but remember the skit for the ‘100metres running race for blind people with no sense of direction’, this pretty much sums it up for the average driver just trying to get from A to B without killing too many pedrians*.
(*bicycle or walking, covers everything from stagger, through amble and right up to jog)
What passes for fashion in the city would see you get beat up in some outback pubs I know.

..the drivers.. glad you asked! We have this thing out here, Dirt Circuit Racing! Picture THAT, on the streets!
If you leave that proper braking distance thing, two cars pull into the space you left, leaving you with nowhere to go…. And why are they all in such a fricking hurry?
I always tell myself that I’m not going to stoop to their new fangled city way of driving but within a short time my halo is around one ankle and I’m cutting in and diving across 4 lanes to the exit I want just like the rest of them..
As an aside: have you noticed that nearly every city car has at least one scrape on it?

Oh, and heres a tip. Don’t book Motel rooms over the internet.
It looked good in the pics! Rows of shiny cars in front of lush garden beds. Security cameras, offroad parking, on suite, fridges and air conditioners in every room, etc, etc. But the lush gardens are now dusty hollows with the odd dead branch here and there to suggest a previous life, the 60’s styling hasn’t been done up since the photos were taken, in the, er.. 1960’s! My air conditioner sounded like a jet going over every time it rattled/wheezed into life?! ..but my fridge made up for that by freezing everything solid even though it was turned off.
When I staggered in at 3am after the party… Pretty young women were coming and going by taxi at regular intervals with much older men. Hmm! Who’d have imagined that some city girls could be so friendly?

With all this going on, you’d be forgiven for thinking that I didn’t have a good time, but you’d be wrong. I had a fantastic time, caught up with some of my favorite people, met some great new people and went to a wonderful party.
Oh, the stories I could tell you about that party…if only I could remember.

My paternal aunt came along for the ride.. and to force me to listen only to the radio all the way there and back..(from a sound system I had upgraded especially so I could listen to my CD’s on this trip) but she had a really good time too. I know that because she only complained half the way home, highly successful in anyone’s terms!

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Terror Alerts

2011-07-13T20:26:00.000+09:30

I've taken this word for word from John Cleese - British writer (of Monty Python fame), actor and tall person, because it's very funny (of course). I love this blokes work, from his early days in Monty Python to well...pretty much every thing he's done really.

ON TERROR ALERTS.

The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent events in Libya and the announcement of the death of Osama bin Laden, and have therefore raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved." Soon though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross." The English have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies nearly ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to "A Bloody Nuisance." The last time the British issued a "Bloody Nuisance" warning level was in 1588, when threatened by the Spanish Armada.

The Scots have raised their threat level from "Pissed Off" to "Let's get the Bastards." They don't have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years.

The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide.” The only two higher levels in France are "Collaborate" and "Surrender." The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France 's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country's military capability.

Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing." Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides."

The Germans have increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs." They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbor" and "Lose."

Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual; the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels .

The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.

Australia , meanwhile, has raised its security level from "No worries" to "She'll be alright, Mate." Two more escalation levels remain: "Crikey! I think we'll need to cancel the barbie this weekend!" and "The barbie is canceled." So far no situation has ever warranted use of the final escalation level.

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C'mon, visit.....please! (trying not to sound desperate)

2011-07-07T19:25:00.000+09:30

The story behind this pic is er...interesting to say the least.
It was taken at Indian Head on Fraser Island by tourists who were watching the scene from the lookout above the beach. From there they could see the young couple making love in the shallows, then they saw the huge shark come in out of the darkness. They shouted an unheard warning until they could bare it no longer and had to leave lest they see the couple devoured before their eyes...
Apparently the sight of humans 'doing it' was more than the shark could bare as well.
Just a day before this pic was taken a local went for a swim in the same place and was chased back to the beach by (probably) the same shark.

This is the stuff you dont get to see in the tourist adverts.

Thanks to Bronwyn for the picture and the info. (and the wonderful stories about what YOUR kids get up to when they holiday here in OZ. Bronwyn works in a Backpackers Hostel)

Busting Australian Myths

2011-07-03T18:11:00.000+09:30

The Ford John Goss Special

HG GTS Monaro (need I say more?)
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The GTR XU1 Awesome!

Possibly the ultimate Aussie car the XY GTHO

Aussie 'sheila's' all look just like this.

Just another day at the beach battling sharks, wild surf and saving lives (only tourists cant save themselves)

Not sure, this could be a pic of my wife...

Young, fit and marked only by the occasional snake or croc bite.

Me,in younger days. (maybe)

Here in Australia you will find all the guys look like these and the women like these.
We all wear Dryzabone coats, Acubra hats, RM Williams boots and checkered shirts, we call our friends ‘Mate’ and slap each other on the back much too often.
At dinner time we eat Aussie meat pies, inch thick steaks and Prawns on a BBQ while we drink beer from the bottle.
As kids we race soapbox carts down incredibly steep hills, handle Crocs and snakes and seem to live through it. We think Red Back Spiders and Blue Ringed Octopus’ are ‘Cute’.
As teens we all join surf lifesaving clubs and excel in all sports. By our early 20’s we either play football or we ride horses and round up cattle. Of course we go on to become stockmen and live under the stars with our cows, horses and mates.
By middle age we’ve settled into suburbia with a loving wife we call ‘The little woman’ and a few well tanned kids who race soapbox carts and bring home Crocs and snakes. We spend our weekends riding motorbikes with the family and cooking BBQ’s with a beer in one hand.
We love our Aussie muscle cars and everyone buys an old one and builds it up from scratch just because we love to work with our hands and take great pride in our workmanship.
…actually this Aussie myth isn’t a myth, we all do these things, we all look like these photos, we wear these clothes and we are Australia!
Believe it or don’t!

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Busting Australian Myths

2011-07-01T16:31:00.000+09:30

My grandson Zach feeding a few friendly park Euros. (a small type of scrub roo)

What everyone wants to see, a baby still in the pouch. Yep, thats his feet hanging out above his head, if youre thinking he's too big to be still in the pouch you'd be right...lazy sucker

Me patting and filming at the same time, she's hoping for food which is why she's straining to sense food coming. (she's out of luck...and fat enough already)

The humble Kangaroo, you will have seen the ‘Boxing Kangaroo’ in TV and theater productions but that is far from the norm, sure they will kick the stuffing out of you IF you annoy them long enough, but the Kangaroo is generally a friendly and gentle animal. This makes it a much loved icon of Australia.
Personally I really love the Kangaroo, we’ve raised a few joeys over the years (car crash survivors) and I've had a bit to do with our local wildlife park. They make great pets (believe it or not) and can be house trained quite easily.
Female Roos are always gentle creatures IF you don’t threaten them or corner them. Because they cant move backward they hate being confronted head on where they see no escape route, if you approach them side on so they can leave if they want, you will find they will stay most times.
The males however are a different story, they sense when a female is menstruating and that is their signal for breeding. The problem is that they cant tell the difference between female Roos and females of the human type. Female humans accompanied by male humans are fair game in their eyes and the male human will be challenged and beaten up. (Can you see where I’m going with this?...good, cause I’ll stop here then)
I made the mistake of gently pushing a male Roo off a picnic table we wanted to use one day. Because my wife was on her period he took that as a challenge and proceeded to attack me. Those of us used to handling Roos know that all you have to do is grab his tail and keep moving him slowly backward to prevent him getting the upper hand. Weight for weight I had a few pounds on him but he had great stamina and forced me to drag him around for nearly an hour before I managed to drag him into a toilet block and lock him in. By then I was pretty much knackered.
I never did find out what happened to the next guy that made the mistake of opening that loo…

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My Week as a Terrorist

2011-06-21T18:59:00.000+09:30

We have a big Army base near here and one of my mates is an Army Reservist, they often help out when the Army is in town doing maneuvers. So it was that he came to have a large number of empty Army ration tins which he saved for storing stuff in his shed. Somewhere along the way he decided to give some of them up so he actually had room in the shed for something other than empty ration cans.
He gave me several, the last of which I've only just managed to get rid of…but the intervening three years?
Sorting them out I discovered some strange semi hard foam in one of them, I put it in my daughters Busy Box. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, a Busy Box is any old box filled with household crap like cardboard tubes, wrapping paper, ice cream sticks, Easter egg foil etc. When the kids want to make something, you drag it out and let them go to town and build you something you don’t want.

I’d forgotten about the foam until I went to the box much later looking for some packing for several very expensive Stainless welding rods to send to my brother.
I wrapped the foam around the rods and taped it up good and tight, making sure my return address was on it and sent it off…no problem.
Early in the morning two days later I was busy at work when three police cars came screeching to a halt right in the doorway, armed police wearing flack jackets jumped out and made straight for me.
Vision me, if you will, looking behind me trying to see who they were coming for….
Surprise!
I was handcuffed and thrown into the back of a police car for the rather embarrassing ride down town. I don’t know if this has ever happened to you, but you drive past everyone you ever knew, and they all just happen to look up and see you there in the cop car being followed by another two police cars full of very serious looking cops.
A couple of hours questioning and then down to my house to see the cops have been there quite some time and made a complete search and a hell of a mess.
Eventually, with no real answers coming my way, one of the cops revealed the story…
An explosives alarm had gone off in the states main post office sorting area, the offending article looked a bit like Dynamite and had my name on it… The whole area was evacuated and remained so as we discussed the matter at length for most of the day.
It was about here the penny dropped and I remembered where the foam had come from… The Army!
I produced the rest of the foam and we headed off to the Airport to put it through their explosives sniffer… High explosives!
On closer inspection there were round marks on the foam to suggest it was once the lining of a box full of large cannon rounds.
Slowly the cops started to believe that I wasn’t really a mad bomber, that there were possibly no bombs to be found and that I had maybe made an honest mistake. (and they wouldn’t all be on TV having smashed a terrorist ring)

A phone call to the bomb squad to assure them it was safe to open the parcel and another hour of lectures and threats that they ‘would be watching me’ before they let me go home. A week later a couple of them dropped by to ‘have a chat’ and again a few weeks later, I guess by now they might have taken me off the terrorist register...but then again..

I never did get my welding rods back…but I wasn’t game to make a complaint.

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Busting Australian Myths

2011-06-17T18:29:00.000+09:30

This is an adult wombat, but still a small one.

..and this is just a baby...cute isn't it? just wait until it grows up though

Check out those teeth, they continue to grow so have to be worn down by biting roots, bark, fingers and ankles.

Believe it or not, this is a typical wombat burrow, they can do this in just one night...and you complain about Gopher holes

Busting Australian Myths

The humble Wombat known locally as the Bulldozer of the bush and that pretty much sums it up. It’s got huge teeth like a Rabbit which it uses to snip underground tree roots and very long, very strong claws which it uses for digging it’s burrows…like a Rabbit hole big enough for you to crawl down. But they’re dumb, very dumb and quite aggressive, the ones you see in the movies are all babies, they grow to over a metre long and 100 pounds and they bite. Typically going for the ankles and feet, you would be lucky to be able to walk after the first bite and they just keep going at you.
My uncle saved one from it’s dead mothers pouch after someone hit it on the road, back home he placed it carefully on the ground and they all laughed as it cutely burrowed out of sight in just a minute or so…and that was the last time they saw it for the 18 months it took to catch it again and move it back to the bush. But in that 18 months it ate all the neighbors gardens, dug up all their manicured lawns, overturned trees and caused incredible damage around the whole suburb. His garden looked like a building site, and nightly it would move tons of garden soil wherever it wanted; by morning the whole yard was rearranged…my uncle got over his love for Wombats quick smart.

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I got Nuthin

2011-06-11T19:02:00.001+09:30

From a childs eye...

Well, actually I just think these are good and wanted to share them with you.

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Busting Australian Myths

2011-06-09T19:27:00.000+09:30

The humble Koala, cute, cuddly and friendly, so friendly you can cuddle a wild one which will simply cling lovingly to you. Ahhh!
They're just the thing to get the tourists flocking to every wildlife park for their fix.
The problem is that it’s just not true…it’s like saying the Skunk is cute and refreshing. (Well, maybe it is, I’ve never seen one)
The truth about the Koala is that it’s dumb, cranky and well armed. . . Oh, and it stinks really bad! The males have a gland rather like the Skunk so you wont actually see a male in the wild life parks and even the females are shampooed regularly to make them more pleasant. These park Koalas are almost always hand reared after their mothers were killed in road accidents etc and cant be returned to the wild, so they live out their lives being cuddled by tourists…even so they still tend to use people as their toilets. (when you least expect it)
The little female pictured was saved when her mother was killed in a bushfire, after she was finished posing for these pictures she was handed around to all those interested in being filmed with her and wanting to play Russian Roulette with the chance of being sprayed with excrement.

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I said 'NO!'

2011-06-01T20:51:00.001+09:30

Today I said NO when offered a ride on a new bike…and it felt weird, very weird.
Why ? you may ask.
When I thought back, it was the very first time I’ve ever refused a ride…on anything!
Hell yeah, I've ridden mopeds to Harleys and just about everything between; sure I’ve been disappointed more than once but loved them all.
I’ve owned more than twenty bikes of most kinds but mainly Japanese bikes where I learned I rather liked the combination of powerful motors, accurate suspension and steering combined with the lightness they build in so well…then I rode a Harley. (knowing how much you Americans love that brand I shall not mention them again)
In the early 1980’s I built up a Methanol powered Yamaha 750 drag racing bike with two friends, the day we finally got it to the local drag strip for testing I was just a few days out of hospital after a serious hip operation and still on crutches. When the testing was pretty much finished one of my friends made the mistake of asking if I was up to a ride...Hell yeah!
They had to help me onto the bike, put my recently operated leg painfully onto the foot peg then hold the bike upright as I couldn’t walk much less hold up a bike..
I gave it everything and tore up the track as fast as either of them had done,they didn't get the time though as they said after, they hadn't expected me top actually race it...Geez that thing went, but I paid dearly for that ride... my girlfriend didn’t talk to me for days and that was the last ride I got for quite some time. (if you get my drift)
I owned a Yamaha TZ, a full race street bike that snapped drive chains or chewed gears out if you mis-timed a gear change, I sold it after my fourth gearbox in six months.. it went on to very nearly kill it’s next two owners. Since then many bikes have come and gone.
My current bike is a very nice, very new Yamaha TT with the finest suspension I’ve owned, it climbs hills like they’re flat ground and absolutely flies.
But my nemesis is and has always been loose beach sand, I climb massive rocky hills very well, fly down our outback tracks faster than I ride on the roads...but add just one patch of sand and I’m quickly laying on my ass.
That’s exactly what happened nearly a week ago now, I dropped my nice new bike fooling around in the sandhills with my kids... and hurt my hip..a lot!
I've spent two days unable to walk, sit or drive. Funny enough I can sit on a bike, so I could (if I was stupid enough) ride my electric start TT, but no! I've been a good boy and looked after whats left of my aging body, (this time) which brings us to today, walking again with the help of a cane and able for the first time to drive (with some pain) I went out to watch the kids ride.
When my son-in-law asked if I wanted to ride his new bike I thought about it.. and refused. Oh, there will be other days and I will take it for a ride but I was quite proud of myself today…
It’s only taken 35 years to learn to say ‘NO!”

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I'll just go and have a little cry...

2011-05-28T17:40:00.001+09:30

Between the problems with Blogger and the immense problems with TELSTRA Australia I cant post more than a few wor ...

She’s left home!

2011-05-19T21:17:00.000+09:30

Isnt it amazing how fast they grow up and leave home?
After many years together my baby finally left home today.
When we first got together she was a little worse for wear…even though she’d only ever had one person in her life before me.
There was several months of intensive care before we could even be seen together in public with lots of new things to do and many old things to repair, but since then we’ve been inseparable and no one else has lit her fires since those trying days.

But today…with little fanfare, she up and left home with someone else.

I guess it was always going happen this way…but of course I’m feeling the pain just now.
She was born early in 1975 and that makes her a true classic now, and that will ensure she lives on, highly polished and much cared for.
She was in damn fine shape when I got her but I replaced everything that could be bolted on including a new motor and new gearbox and even had to hand build panels where none could be sourced, she’s 100% rust free and a fine example of Mr Fords best work.
Next week she will have her 185hp straight six and auto removed and replaced with a genuine GT351 with 450hp, four speed TopLoader and Locker diff. In a few weeks she will have a new look with bright red paint (Red Pepper) and black stripes, her tags will be replaced and her chassis number will be changed to reflect her pure breeding. Yes, she’s becoming a Genuine XB GT 351…and I couldn’t be more proud!

Dads Coat

2011-05-14T19:09:00.000+09:30

A couple of lifetimes ago we lived in an old house with an outside loo, it was way down a very long yard past all the trees and vines, way down among the long dark shadows and hidden spider webs. Of course you had to be really busting to use it after dark…desperate!

Going to that toilet after dark was one of my greatest fears as a very young boy, and one of my earliest memories.

By the back door hung dads old WW2 army coat, ankle length on an adult and made of leather it weighed a ton and dragged on the ground behind me as I struggled to carry it. But it made me feel safe.

Full of fear I’d look out into the swaying shadows and howling winds, full of fear I’d take the heavy coat from its place right next to the door and drop it over me, the thick collar sitting on my head, the broad shoulders enormous over my small body.

Then out the door I’d go, no longer scared because nothing could get me under dads coat, I’d weave my way around the shadows and under the spider webs to the loo and back.
I could barely push the coat off my head and up onto its hook then slide out from under it without it falling and pushing me to the ground.

Even now the smell of leather brings back those memories, that musty, earthy smell of leather that I find so comforting. I’d love to own that coat, I’d love to have it hanging on a hook by my back door…just to remind me, you understand!

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The Last Flight To Hell

2011-05-04T17:31:00.001+09:30

Back when I was young and stupid I had occasion to fly to several important appointments 400km away. (I’m not young anymore) It was a rushed affair and I spent the entire day buzzing from one place to another to meet people and keep appointments. Toward the end of the day a friend picked me up for the run back to meet the last plane out. Along the way she stopped at her local watering hole and I bought us a couple of rounds, which is really not a good idea before boarding an aircraft.
As we drove toward the airport, clouds built up around the city and rain started to fall.
Once at the airport she produced a pipe of high grade dope and hurried me through it, (another bad idea) although we were running late I waited patiently as she emptied one herself then we staggered into the terminal. Once inside and out of the building storm I found a handling delay had choked the airport which was full of people in huge winding lines.
Paranoia started to set in..
As my flight got closer and it looked like I was going to miss it, several kind people let me through to the front of the line which only served to draw attention to us and increased my anxiety levels.
A quick check in and a rushed thank you to the people who allowed me to cut in on them and it was around the corner to the boarding platform…and straight into a high level security check.
Back then there were no security checks for flights within Australia except for very rare exercises; like the training exercise we had walked into.

Did she still have the pipe? Was there dope in her bag? Panic!

The dozen or so security staff ushered us through the metal detector and x-rayed our hand luggage. As we started to walk off a female officer stepped forward to stop my friend from picking up her bag.
“Hang on, I just want to check something!”
My heart beat was through the roof already and this just topped it off as I saw myself sitting in jail for the night.
She rummaged through the bag and produced a huge Bowie Knife nearly a foot long, I couldn’t believe it! It was just like the Crocodile Dundee “This is a knife” knife.
Surprisingly the staff just told my friend that she would have to leave it with them and pick it up as she left…
A quick goodbye and I could feel my hands shaking as I went out through the departure door and into the teeth of the storm, I was the last one to board and the ground staff were waiting in the rain for me, they did not look happy!
Head down and up the slippery stairs, I missed the little sign that said I should duck…WHACK! I walked straight into the top of the door and staggered inside, head spinning.
I turned down the aisle and stopped dead… the plane was full of really, really old people with gaunt looks on their faces, every eye on the bloke who had kept them waiting, every eye on the bloke that just walked into the door and interrupted the hostess’ briefing. I felt claustrophobic and the world closed in around me. The plane felt very small and I got an instant feeling of impending doom, if the door had still been open I’d have headed out of it again, but the door was up and the plane lurched as it started to taxi.
Now I've been known to have the odd premonition and the rushed day, the beers, the dope and the stress I’d just been through made this felt as real as anything Id felt before.
I settled into the only empty seat in the aircraft and started thinking about my life’s successes and failures and started thinking up excuses for St Peter, even on this cold day sweat beaded on my forehead and ran stinging into my eyes.
The hour long flight through the storm seemed to take forever and every bump and lurch had me silently freaking out.

No-one was more surprised than I as we taxied into the little country airport at the end of the flight.
It was only then that I saw the identically painted and very similar aircraft I’d flown out on that morning…identical but much larger, hence the feeling of claustrophobia.
Although they had remained silent throughout the flight the old folks outing had apparently been a great success judging from their chatter now they were safe at home, and their bus was waiting to take then back to their old folks home.

That was the day I gave up smoking dope…

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With a little help from my friends

2011-04-30T15:32:00.000+09:30

We have this thing here, when you find a lost hub cap you prop it up against a fence, pole or something in the hope that the owner will see it and get it back. Do you have that where you live?

Anyway, I recently bought a new car (not new, you understand) it came with the worst, nastiest hubcaps you ever saw. I spent the first week joking to everyone that they would have to pay big time to get them off me.

Eventually I had the time to take them off and repaint the wheels a decent silver like uncle Toyota intended. (Mission brown just did not look good)
On our recent camping trip, with the help of a few many beers, my son-in-law and I came up with the perfect way to get rid of them…

I took them for a drive and simply leaned them up against posts, fences and bushes as if they were lost ones. Some poor sad weird madman will eventually pick them up and ruin his otherwise tasteful car with these nasty imports. I’ll keep an eye out for them….I bet they turn up on a Volvo!

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Lets go camping

2011-04-26T18:32:00.000+09:30

Pats 'stick' Scorpion

Smallish female Australian Sea Lion on the beach in front of camp.

A large female Orb Weaver right in the camp.

The small Bandy Bandy in our Billy. (hows that for clever naming of a species)

Yep, lets go camping in Australia folks, these pics are taken from just one four day camp near Port Gibbon in Southern South Australia.
Other countries have great scenery, great mountain views and forests and lakes...we may have all those things but we're too busy looking down to see what we're treading on...
Of course we all know that the biggest White Pointer Sharks live right here in our waters together with the quite deadly Blue Ringed Octopus and many, many other poisonous sea creatures. Everyone knows that most of the worlds most dangerous snakes come from right here, while I was looking up this small snake I found that of the 27 snakes found here 23 of them are poisonous...hell, that’s near enough 100% for me!
..and spiders? It’s getting too cold for the Red Back now we’re into Autumn, so they can only be found under bark, tin or other cover but now it’s the time for Orb Weavers and other hunting spiders like the Huntsman or Wolf Spider which can be seen pretty much everywhere. One of our campers used his hand to collect the odd little Orange and Black snake (Bandy Bandy) and was very sick the next day and for several days after…though he insists he did not get bitten another camper says it looked like he did.
While I was Googling to see if he was likely to die or not it occurred to me that we Australians are pretty blasé about the deadly critters we share the country with.
Indeed our barefoot kids and grandkids were running around camp and playing while one camper lay sick and I was busy looking up his symptoms on the laptop.
Next day my daughter was busy in the camp kitchen (housework follows you everywhere) and noticed a ‘stick’ stuck to her shoe. Upon further inspection she realized it was a Scorpion she must have annoyed… she now holds the record for the fastest removal of shoes. A day later she was showing me where that happened and we found another one… or the same one that came back. (does anyone know about the homing instincts of Scorpions?)
Each evening the huge Orb Weavers quickly spin a new web to catch as many insects as possible before it gets too cold for them and they have to retire to their hides. The one pictured used the light streaming through the cars window to hunt right in front of us each night. There's nothing freakier than walking through an Orb Weaver web in the dark… you know that spider is in there somewhere. I’ve been bitten by Orb Weavers many times now…it’s about the same as a bee sting.
Danger was not reserved just in the camp though, the sand hills are covered with Snake, Spider and Centipede tracks…BIG poisonous Centipede tracks.. and the beach is home to Australian Sea Lions. Not your cute and friendly Seal types, these Sea Lions grow huge (over a ton) and have teeth like giant Rottweilers. If you surprise them or if you happen to disturb them they chase you with every intention of either crushing you or biting you, I know this from experience as I got too close many years ago and was chased up a sand hill. (OK, so it was only a few metres but it was just as well I had brown underpants on that day) During the day they haul out and lay in the warm sea weed, near enough invisible as you walk by, should you happen to invade their personal space however…
So why do we take these dangers in our stride and ignore the possible threats to our lives?
Fucked if I know!

* No animals were hurt during this camp, however one or two of the campers may still die.

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Why I Dont Work There Anymore

2011-04-18T18:45:00.000+09:30

A collection of photos from my workcover/resume folder, I've no ides why I'm finding it hard to find work....any ideas?

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Fishing For Dummies

2011-04-09T19:11:00.000+09:30

Typical of the many miles of foreshore around Pt Lincoln, nice eh?

The forest where we camped for several days, quiet and full of critters to check out...like the hand sized spider Kev found. (I'd have taken a pic but was laughing too much as Kev crapped himself)

Another bit of the forest, a natural arch.

Port Lincoln from the lookout, really beautiful in Autumn.

The plan was a good one, fishing, camping and Geocaching for a long weekend away with a friend. Now this bloke claimed to be well experienced in camping so naturally I didn’t tell him what to bring, I just told him where we were going, what the camping and fishing places were like and gave him a time and date…
So I get there to find the usual big pile of stuff to load into the car, I didn’t take much notice of what was there, I just crammed it all in. (as you do)
Once loaded up we hit the road with nearly 300km to our first stop at Port Lincoln. I guess we’d done nearly 80km when I realized I hadn’t seen any fishing rods in his stuff… I ask the question and it turned out he’d left all his fishing gear at home including several pounds of rapidly rotting bait on the kitchen table…
Not to worry though, he assures me that he has remembered absolutely everything else.
I commented that they were famous last words…

I've brought only two of my many rods, a few lures and tackle, about a thousand dollars worth all up, he has nothing, so a quick trip to a well stocked fishing shop and he has his brand new $5.00 hand reel with no tackle whatsoever. (Did I mention he’s tight as a fishes arse?)
We sought a few Geocaches and hit the grain loading jetty with all the other tryers.
I did well enough, Tommy Rough, Salmon and a few Leatherjackets came my way in the next two hours but then the Sea Lions turned up and that was the end of our fun. I released everything alive because we didn’t have storage for our catch. He caught next to nothing as his pre-rigged handline had huge hooks. (I ignored his plight)
We found a forest to camp in just before dark, it was only then he discovered he’d forgotten to take most of the food from the fridge before we left home. He had no bread, milk or most of his fresh food, just a few cans. He had no plates or cutlery, only one blanket and no airbed, pillow or warm clothes.
I know you're feeling sorry for him at this point, and thinking I must be a heartless bastard but this is our fourth camping trip and he’s just not learning. He nearly froze to death during the first trip because he only had one blanket then as well, and the one I gave him got rolled up so he could use it as a pillow…because he forgot that too. He woke in the morning covered in frost and unable to walk.
I'd given him camp supply lists…he lost them. Id suggested things he would need so he could add them to his list… he just didn’t.
He grumbled miserably the next day when he had to buy the food he’d left home then continued to winge all day about the cost…
I fished on and regretted not bringing my iPod to drown him out.
I didn’t have it all my way though…my pillow was harder than I would have liked…

During the entire trip he’d caught less than a half dozen fish…sad, suicidal fish!
I’m hoping he actually learned something this time because there's a big camp in a few weeks…another long weekend with 20 to 30 people this time, a big group of family and good friends.
There are two kinds of people in the world…quick learners and Kev..

I’m not complaining…I’m laughing!

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World of Barbed Wire

2011-04-03T18:19:00.000+09:30

Part of the display in Hall 12, 'The Wire Room'. Early and antique wires from around the world.

18th and 19th century wires from Hall 12

More barb wire fittings...wait a minute! No sorry, this is from the History of Dentistry blog for next week...

The very best of the strainers and joiners from Hall 10 'Strainers and Joiners'

This is just one level of the security to get into this renown museum, after this is the strip search, x-ray and ultrasound.

A tiny section of Hall 7 'Droppers and Spacers'

Strainers and Razor wires from the 'Detention Centers’ section.

Down in the basement of Hall 12 showing the early wires and pre-steel barb wires. The very sharp 'Ribbon wire' at the far left centre was made by blind people..."Ouch, thats sharp...Ouch, thats sharp..." (Yes, it really was)

You will not see this anywhere else on the web folks, in fact there is only one place in the entire world to see this wonder. I hope you truly appreciate the risk I went to in smuggling my camera through the tight security, into the inner sanctum to get these shots of: The largest Barb Wire collection in the World!

Spread out before you here are all the various types of barbed wires from way before the invention of steel, through WW1, WW2 and beyond to the modern concentration camps we in Australia call ‘Detention Centers’.
Here to you can see every kind of wire strainer, tensioner, joiner, post banger in thingy and post rip-er-out thingy. (actual scientific names)
To be sure to get these breakthrough photos to you I was forced to swallow the HDSD card and wait the several days to…er.. you know. Next time I’ll take the card out of the camera first. (Too much information?)

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Down on the farm

2011-03-24T19:12:00.000+10:30

There are a few skills I’ve learned during my life, one of those skills was Oxy acetylene cutting of steel, a skill nearly lost these days as it costs a great deal in gas and time to teach the skill. Back when I was considerably younger and working under a couple of very fine ‘old time’ boiler makers I foolishly thought it was cool to learn to cut steel with hot gas...stupid boy!
Of course I've done my best to forget the skill but copious amounts of scotch and beer simply have not done the job.
The worst of it is that some people who have known me for all those years know that I can still do it… and you just cant kill them all!
A few weeks ago an old mate who now owns a farm down the coast a bit rang to coerce me into coming down to oxy cut for him.

Do you have friends that call from time to time, and when they ring, you kind of go… ‘Oh no!’ ? He’s like that, a good friend and a great bloke but…well, he owns a farm and works like a dog.

Anyway… I get there to find two huge air seeding machines waiting for me, a combination of over one hundred plough points to cut off as well as a similar amount of holding plates and rusted bolts, and all of it had to be done without any damage to adjoining parts. (my adjoining parts somehow don’t bear consideration)
As you can see the machines are so low and so heavy that they cant be lifted, you must crawl under it, between sharp and nasty bits.
As soon as you light the torch the spiders who have taken refuge in the equipment in the preceding nine months start dropping off everything above you…angry spiders!
So there you sit, in the dirt, with Red Back and Orb weaver spiders raining down on you, you don’t worry too much about that however because the red hot steel is also raining down on you. If you twitch or move suddenly you get a plough shear in the head, or back, or somewhere and of course the melted steel ends up on the ground where you're sitting.
I felt something crawling down my back and nesting between my buttocks…probably just another ant. Half an hour later when I got out from under to learn to walk again I found a Red Back dropping from my shorts on a web. (note to self: Next time wear long pants) (Further note to self: make sure there is no ‘next time’)

I ended up spending two twelve hour days sitting under those machines collecting melted steel in my undies… and I've got the burns to prove it.
Then I spent another day bolting on new sharp bits and scratching, scraping and impaling myself on those as I did… and I've got the wounds to prove that. (the things you do for friends)
A few restorative welds here and there and the mighty machines are ready to put the next crop in…any day now.
If I were a bit younger I could make a very good living working the farms, but this old body is simply not up to the task.
After my holiday down the farm I need a holiday!

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Dont throw your life away!

2011-03-09T19:13:00.000+10:30

A tough looking group of bikers were riding when they saw a girl about to jump off a bridge so they stop.

The leader, a big burly man, gets off his bike and says, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to commit a suicide," she says.

While he did not want to appear insensitive, he didn't want to miss an opportunity he asked "Well, before you jump, why don't you give me a Kiss?"

So, she does and it was a long, deep lingering kiss.

After she's finished, the biker says, "Wow! That was the best Kiss I have ever had. That's a real talent you are wasting. You could be famous

Why are you committing suicide?"

"My parents don't like me dressing up like a girl......"

I've been busy

2011-02-25T21:10:00.000+10:30

The beginning, the sides cut out and clamped and glued together.

The hull together, glued and ready for Epoxy coating.

Looks nice in this one does it not? Three coats of Epoxy coating to waterproof the wood forever. (so the story goes)

Two more coats of Marine grade two pac primer.

..and here we are now. Ive had second thoughts about painting it Stark White though.. Even on this cloudy day it's still too bright to even look at...and this is only the dull primer. Im not bad at spray painting so it has quite a bit of gloss off the gun but nothing compared to the gloss it will have in two pac hi-gloss.

I’ve been building a boat…more about that later. (slight overstatement…it’s a canoe)
I started at Christmas time and fully expected to have it in the water by now, but living in the middle of nowhere has slowed me down somewhat, it takes two weeks to get anything I order. Run out of stainless screws…two weeks, need a bit more Epoxy…two more weeks..
During the process I’ve learned many new terms…tradie things like Bow, Stern, Thingamajig and Whosiwhatsit (official nautical terms)
I learned the finishing steps, the hole filling, sanding and finishing is called ‘Fairing’ or ‘Making Fair’. (not that I’m quite there yet)
I had some major work done on my house a couple of years ago and I learned many things...like ‘complete price’ does not mean it’s actually the complete and full price of the job and the process of hole filling, straightening things which should have been straight in the first place and finishing and sanding is called ‘Making Good’.
I’ve had some experience in the steel industry and the bringing together and joining of two parts of steel is called ‘marrying’, you bring in one part and marry it to another permanently by welding.
I’m thinking in this day where marriage is anything but permanent this misnamed procedure needs to have it’s name changed…I’m thinking it should be called ‘Partnering’. The bringing together and welding…for a while.

Just a thought!

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War On America

2011-02-18T20:12:00.000+10:30

Lately I’ve been thinking of declaring war on America.
You may well wonder what brings on this apparent madness on my part, after all America is one of our major trading partners, our comrades in arms and a constant source of wonderment.
Her beautiful natural wonders, her incredible scientific accomplishments, the great many fine people and friends I have there, the natural barrier she provides to prevent Canadians coming South. (sorry Cal)
Despite the wonderful people, the wonders and the accomplishments, there is something for which I cannot forgive…
TV..
not just any TV mind you.

Let me explain.
Here in far away Australia we have a new TV channel…Channel 11.
Channel 11 seems to be caught in a time warp, time zone 1970’s and the reason for my despair. Why, in the 1970’s did America commit this crime on us and TV viewers throughout the world. What did we do to deserve this bombardment of…of..
Well…have a look for yourselves.

This is just tonights ‘Entertainment’…and there are worse nights than this.
Mork and Mindy…
The Love Boat… (weeping now)
Happy Days… (shamelessly crying)
The Brady Bunch… (reaching for the razor blades)

Come on...what have you to say for yourselves?

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The tale of the Drop Bear

2011-02-16T18:49:00.001+10:30

It is well understood that the Dropbear has evolved over thousands of years. It's diminutive cousin the Koala was more often found in dryer areas of Australia where it's herbivorous lifestyle was a natural adaptation to scarce food supplies. Conversely, Dropbear prides were more common in sub-tropical forests, where larger mammals (a primary food source) were more prevalent. The population density along coastal areas accounts for the less than comfortable relationship shared over the years by humans and Dropbears. Due to habitat destruction, many Dropbear prides have divided over the years, some of which head further inland in search of more plentiful food sources, and safer environments in which to raise cubs. This in turn has displaced some koala populations. This in fact serves to provide the Australian government with a convenient cover story. They (and others) claim that coastal Koala habitats are being destroyed, thereby lowering the count of koala's typically seen around urban Australia. This is a fallacy, as koala's never inhabited coastal areas in any great numbers due to the Dropbear not being particularly concerned with matters of etiquette regarding the feeding on relatives. However, since many tourists tend to be disappointed that they do not see a koala in every eucalyptus tree, the government perpetuates this story of an endangered species in a shrinking habitat. As horrible as it is, it sounds a lot better than saying "Oh, those cuddly things? Yeah, the Dropbears ate them all".

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I am a vegi

2011-02-07T18:50:00.000+10:30

Shamelessly Stolen from: http://thingsthatarenotnormal.blogspot.com/

Aussie Spirit, alive and well!

2011-02-04T21:05:00.000+10:30

A friend posted this on her site today Spiral is smart and funny and a joy to her many friends. http://mymandorla.wordpress.com/
There is no original credit so I'll just have to thank her/him here...Tah!
This is typical of the kind of thing we have to put up with in Australia.. it pays not to take yourself too seriously here or you'll get the piss taken out of you. (made fun of)

Hmm, seems I spoke to soon.

2011-02-04T20:01:00.000+10:30

Right now it's pouring here in lower South Australia, some 4000km away from where Cyclone Yasi made landfall we are all coping big rains. Virtually right across the country it's raining hard. To put that into perspective...Australia is over 5500km from East to West(3200miles) and some 4000km from North to South (2500miles)and it's raining over most of it.
Yep, it was a big storm!
It's not so bad here, being near the sea there's little likelihood of serious flooding since the water will run straight into the nearby marshes and to the sea..but even so, my yard is completely under water just now...just an inch! But an inch can make all the difference...so my Ex-wife used to say!
It's been 100% humidity and most uncomfortable for several days now but that was broken late today when the rain started..it's still hot and rather nice to go out walking in the rains but a little cooler now.
I had coffee at the beach with daughter/son-in-law and all the kids and friends late today and we really enjoyed the pouring rains, we all got saturated and loved it!

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Queensland Floods

2011-02-01T18:28:00.000+10:30

When your local sewerage works goes under water you dont want to go into the water..this one was at Rockhampton.

No aircraft coming or going from here, this is why the armed forces were brought in.

Where do you start?

One wrecked boat, one stuffed bridge.

Gday mate!

A man saving a roo, just one man, just one roo but every bit makes a difference.

This guy is a dead set hero, he will probably be forgotten by history but he motored around hauling drowning Roos into his boat and taking them to high ground. You can see theyre not happy with their ears back like that..but are reserved to being rescued. (these are wild roos)

This is why were having troubles here. Australia is a largely flat and the flood spreads far and wide.

One TV station said in places the flood was 2000km wide. (1250miles)

You have to have a sense of humor, even at times like this..Queenslands mud army.

I wasn't in a hurry to put these up but good ol' Queensland is already heading for it's next disaster and I need room for that. Thats right! as you read this a cyclone closes in on the former flood zones.

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Unashamedly Stolen

2011-01-26T20:38:00.000+10:30

Unashamedly stolen in it's entirety from Magsx2 wonderful blog at.. http://magsx2.wordpress.com/

An Aussie pirate walks into a bar with a wooden leg, a hook and an eye patch.
The Barman says ‘Sheesh – How’d you lose the leg’

The Pirate says ‘Arrrrr – A shark took it off at the knee’

The Barman says ‘Thats no good, what about the hand?’

The Piarate says ‘Arrrrg – Lost it in a bloody bar brawl’

The Barman says ‘Jeez – Well what about the eye then?’

The Pirate says ‘Thats easy a seagul crapped in it’

The Barman says ‘What?!?!’

The Pirate says ‘Arrrrrrr…I’d only had the hook one day…’
————————————————-
A man and his wife were sitting in the living room and he said to her, “Just so you know, I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine and fluids from a bottle. If that ever happens, just pull the plug.”
His wife got up, unplugged the TV and threw out all of his beer.
—————————————————–
A bloke escapes from prison where he has been for 15 years. He breaks into a house to look for money, beer and guns and finds a young Australian couple in bed. He orders the bloke out of bed and ties him to a chair. While tying the girl to the bed he gets on top of her, kisses her neck, then goes into the bathroom.

While the man is in the bathroom, the husband tells the wife: “Listen, this guy’s an escaped inmate, look at his clothes! He probably spent lots of time in jail and hasn’t seen a woman in years… I saw how he kissed your
neck. If he wants sex, don’t resist, don’t complain. Do whatever he tells you. Satisfy him no matter how much he nauseates you. This guy is probably dangerous. If he gets angry, he’ll kill us. Be strong, honey. I love you.”

To which the wife responds: “He wasn’t kissing my neck. He was whispering in my ear. He told me he was gay,thought you were cute, and asked if we had any Vaseline. I told him it was in the bathroom. Be strong honey, I love you too!”

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A walk on the dark side

2011-01-24T20:47:00.000+10:30

Heres the short bit of info that started this whole thing.

This year we will experience 4 unusual dates,1/1/11, 1/11/11, 11/1/11, 11/11/11, now go figure this out, take the last two digits of the year you were born plus the age you will be this year and it will equal 111 its freaky? Do the math of your dates and see.

I put this info on my Facebook page recently and this triggered a close friend to tell me an amazing story about a set of circumstances that revolve around the whole 11.11 thing. Interesting, strange even freaky, but I believe it completely…I don’t have permission to tell you about that, but it got me thinking about other weird things that I can attest to.

My gran was a minor physic, she kept it secret but told just me about the many things she knew about way before they happened, she even knew on the day she died. Unusually, she wished me well and told me to be strong as we got into the car that later crashed, killing her and leaving me crushed and broken. None of my family knew about this as far as I know.
I didn’t inherit her gift (gift?) but I do occasionally get undeniable feelings and more rarely, visions. For many years I took these things to be manifestations of the damage done to me in that accident…then of course I simply did not want to believe.
Eventually though…
The most powerful of these things...and I swear this is completely true, I will tell you about now.

I bumped into one of my brothers in law at a shopping center two years ago now, he began telling me about a solo trip he was planning. Within days he was going to drive right across the Nullabour desert to Perth in Western Australia. As he was telling me about his leaving dates etc I suddenly saw a vision of a white car sliding out of control, it spun around as it slid along the road and the vision ended in the car disappearing backwards into a cloud of dust. Vision over…maybe three seconds?
I felt disturbed by this and had an urge to tell him…but I didn’t because people view this kind of thing with great suspicion. As I walked away I was still uneasy and I noticed my heartbeat was very fast. I continued to feel doubtful and disturbed for the rest of that day.
Just a week later I saw him again as he walked along a road close to where I live, I stopped because I knew he should have been half way across the country by now.
…and now he told me the story about how his white Falcon had seized a wheel bearing on the drivers side front wheel, how the wheel and hub had torn off and how his car had spun around at highway speeds and slid off the road backwards. I felt chilled to the bone as he told me the story I already knew quite well…

What I want to know is whether this is a common human experience or whether it’s as rare as it feels, I’ve never told a soul about this…ever.

Tell me your stories, have you ever…?

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Call me Lefty

2011-01-20T19:45:00.001+10:30

When I saw this pic I wondered where the rest of the Vet was...down inside the croc?

This one looks even worse, can you imagine the vet down in his gut reaching out for an aspirin or something? (I've got SUCH a headache)

But NO! here he is, his hand all bandaged and an appropriately silly and embarrassed look on his face. He was quoted as saying that it was the last time he was going to brush a crocodiles teeth. (ok so thats a lie)

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Shh, dont tell anyone!

2011-01-17T17:58:00.000+10:30

My nemesis for this weekend... (no killing the wildlife!)

My grand daughter Amie with just one of the many small crabs the kids caught and released. Hows this for lovely clear water?

This was our beach for the weekend with the stairs in fore ground.

Then I turned around and took a pic facing the other way, you can see the sand hills where we sand surfed, at the base of the sand hills is the seal colony and the rocky headland where the lads got their arms stretched.

Sand boarding anyone? This is the beginner slopes with hills twice this size further around

The lads on the headland known as Snapper Rocks

One of the Australian Sea Lions..not dead, just lazy!

What with half the eastern states of Australia under water I felt kinda bad about swaning off for a weekend away…for about half an hour.
There's this almost untouched area only 70 miles away you see… people drive past it every day without knowing that just down that dirt road is paradise by the sea. (Shh! Don’t tell)
Untouched beaches only broken here and there by the rocky headlands that provide great fishing and designate where my beach ends and yours begins. Just back from the cliff edge the camp sites hide under low trees for protection against summer sun.
Normally it would be too late in the season already and this area would be baking in unbelievable heat, but this year is different. Temps in the low 80’s (low 30’s C) and above average rain this year has left this area green and inviting even now.
So it was we set off with 4 kids, my daughter and her other half and another friend, two cars, a trailer, a mountain of camping gear and an assortment of alcohol. (medicinal purposes only of course)
Our chosen beach was at the bottom of a stair built down the low cliffs many years ago by someone called Mills, (so the sign says) our camp perhaps 150 yards from the cliff for child safety sake and everything within a mile or so of everywhere we wanted to see… I wont bore you with the details but our weekend consisted of much swimming in the warm water of our beach, fishing on the prominent headland a mile away, watching the sea lions on the beach where you can walk right up to them (if you have a fish for them) sand surfing on the huge dunes, hunting for and placing a few Geocaches… I think that about covers the main things.
I also had some rather wonderful 12 year old scotch left from a Christmas present (cant have it going off before it’s/I’m drunk can we?) and Pearls rather good first book in what I hope will be a series…(http://pearl-whyyoulittle.blogspot.com/) I read, I drank, I laughed, I staggered to the beach with fishing rod in hand, I spent a lot of time with the grand kids…wonderful!

There's almost nothing bad about this spot…almost! There are rather a lot of sharks here abouts, not that we actually saw any this time, and there are a lot of creepy crawlies. Last time we found a beautiful jet black 3inch Scorpion wondering about the camp and this time I found a really big Wolf Spider. They grow about twice the size of this one… but this one found the box for my camp stove and would not give it up for some reason. I though, ‘Ok, you can have it then’ and put the box and spider 20 feet away from my camp. It marched about on the box guarding it from me for 15 minutes then decided it wanted my camp too. It abandoned the box and marched directly back into camp…I was just thinking it might be a nice night to give up the camp and sleep out under the stars… But no, I’m the bigger of us so I got into bed and ignored the spider rampaging about the camp until it eventually gave up showing off and went home (where ever that was)
We’re going back in a couple of weeks…my son-in-law now knows about this hidden wonderland and cant wait to get back there. He caught some fish, but not the huge monsters that smashed up his gear and bent his best rod double…probably Snapper or Sharks, I’ll let you know!

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Just for fun

2011-01-12T20:18:00.001+10:30

"Did you ask if you could take my picture...did you?! "

Oh Look, it's a...it's a...it's a...

OH SHIT!!!

Understanding the car...for Hoons: Understeer is when you hit the wall with the front of the car and oversteer is when you hit the wall with the rear of the car. Horsepower is how fast you hit the wall, torque is how far you take the wall with you...

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England under water

2011-01-10T18:41:00.000+10:30

Australia's had more rain this past year that anytime for many, many decades, in fact it's still raining in far off Queensland and there's no sign if it stopping anytime soon. So far there has been around 25 drownings, mainly from fools jumping into swollen rivers for some surfing or boogie boarding but occasionally by people trying to drive though flooded causeways.
None of this directly affects me here in the desert country of South Australia, except that we'll be paying a lot more for fruit and veg during the next year or so...but the prices always go up anyway, ever heard of grocery prices going down?
But I digress:
From Queensland, through New South Wales and soon into Victoria there is already a chunk of Australia under water greater in size than the entire United Kingdom...and the rain hasn't stopped and the flood waters still haven't reached the sea, and wont for another three months!

Come on people...drink more water and help us out here!

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