17 August, 2012

Sad news today for all on-line vendors of witchcraft and wizardry – eBay is set to ban the sale of magical workings from the first of September.

So get in quick if you need a mystical unicorn incantation or a little something to thwart the mother-in-law.

While they’re at it, there are a few other things eBay should look at banning: lots of happy meal toys, which may or may not be broken and, let’s face it, were without value new; Twilight merchandise; and vintage toilet paper.

No, I’m not kidding –


What else do you think we could do without on eBay?


Mystery Spending
12 January, 2010

Just read a newspaper article:,23739,26582157-953,00.html

Apparently,  Australians are the sloppiest cash managers in the world, losing track of an average of $60/week.

ONLY $60? Maybe it’s just me. I’m  convinced that those ‘anti-theft’ scanners in the supermarket are  money evaporators. Here’s how it works. Your income, initially in a solid state in your purse, wallet or back pocket is vaporised into a volatile gas. Then (insert name of hypermegaglobal shop here) reclaim the dosh from the filters in their air-conditioning  ducts. It’s the only way I can explain the amount of money that disappears  every time I go grocery shopping.

PMT + 32 C + 85% Hum + CC + NM = ?
16 December, 2009

What do you get when you cross pre-menstrual tension with searing heat, sticky humidity, the usual Christmas chaos and a New Moon?

I don’t know what to call it, but I can give you two bits of info:

  1. It’s no more pleasant to experience than to suffer from
  2. It ain’t pretty.

If there’s a cure, other than moving to Svarlbad and not leaving  a forwarding address, please advise

Christmas Poem
10 December, 2009


Christmas is coming

so let us flee

the artificial jollity.

Avoid all presents,

tinsels’ drape and

Spurn the mobius sticky tape

Don’t try the Plaza;

Santa’s there

Stuck – pervy sweat on plastic chair.

The freeze-dried carols,

strain on faces,

shopping carts sudden death races.

The beach is worse

‘cause sand and heat

can’t make up for the par-cooked meat

of tourists lying

on their towels.

Let’s bury some – you bring the trowels.