Well here we are again then. Apologies for my prolonged absence, it was all in a reasonable cause (writing and workshopping lots of new flash). However, with Festivus looming here we are. Despite a few flirtations with commercial radio I have yet to enter Whamhalla. How’s everyone else coping?
Ta da! Don’t think I’ll be using the moon roof much but the rest is schmicko.
So this is it, then. My golden first-born son, my funny, clever boy who’s been my best mate since he was born is off to Canberra to become a highly-trained killing machine in charge of a pack of other highly-trained killing machines.
I know it is a terrific opportunity that should set him up for life. I just get a bit teary wondering if the gentle parts of him – his magic with little children, compassion for the elderly, love of animals – will survive the Army.
Ok, even I’m sick of scrolling the comments on the last thread now. Nothing to see here, just a Goth gnome I made for Gogantor’s GF.
Scene: Me, baconing.
Enter the local One Nation candidate. We’ll call him Steve, because that is his name.
Steve: “Have you got any wholemeal rolls?”
Me: “Only white. Isn’t that the way you like it?”
I’m not going to crack jokes any more. I’ll never be funnier than that. Steve went whiter than the rolls, I wish you could have been there.
A fabulous evening with the captivating Miss Melony Breasts and the talented Miss Sal Monella. It was the Bison Bar – the same venue as the Datson + Hughes single launch. And I won the final call, and was presented with the coveted Bingo Scrubber award, so now I can die happy.
Too much scrolling through the previous comments, so check this out. It filled the gallery. To get an idea of scale, I could walk under the second loop easily.
It had already been a hectic and strange – even for us – day in the Cabana of Chaos. Gigantor and I were chilling as Australia came in to bat against the Pakis, when he dragged me outside to look at “the amazing sunset”.
With vibrant orange illuminating puffs of cloud, it was no sunset. The bush behind the houses on the street running along the end of ours was ablaze. I checked the police feeds and sure enough, a fire that started west of the Sunshine Motorway earlier in the afternoon had jumped the road and was heading for us.
When I saw a map on Facebook that included us in an advised evacuation zone, I had to stare at it for a few minutes until the streets that I had driven and dog-walked resolved into any sense.
Gigantor has obviously watched enough American Preppers because he had his bike – and school supplies, bless – in the car while I was still wandering in circles trying to find the cat carrier (still on loan to a friend). In that time the wind dropped, the apocalyptic glow had moved north-west of us and we decided to stay put.
I’d like to thank the crews, and relief crews, of firies that battled all night to defend us. Most of those blokes – and sheilas, if applicable – are volunteers, who, as Gigantor said, would have been having a beer or so watching the cricket until called to risk their health and lives so we could continue to enjoy ours. I was given 3 copies of the Firies’ Calendar this Christmas and wasn’t sure what to do with the overflow. Now I don’t think that was enough! Thanks, fellas. Nice work.
Fun in a box 