You Are Here: Why?
6 July, 2011

By now, you’re all well aware of my feelings about tourists: they park out the library; they stagnate the supermarket aisles; and often they have heads straight out of H.P. Lovecraft.

So, I’ve got nothing but praise for the new signage Council have plonked down the front. Isn’t it perfect? We call it “Four Ways To Die At Coolum Beach”. All it really lacks, in tourist-repulsion terms, is a big arrow pointing north that reads “Noosa That Way: Open All Hours”.

But I think the sign should be  more explicit. It is a matter of public record – police reports, death certificates, transcripts from the Coroner’s Court – that our proud beach-side community boasts many more ways to die than those depicted. There should also be a little stick man, hurling over the balcony rail out the back of the surf club – ALCOHOL POISONING. A stylised chalk outline  in the pub car-park, with a halo of blood – GLASSING. A hotted up V8, speeding away from a broken stickman – HIT AND RUN. And a little stick woman, bludgeoned in her own kitchen over a meal she was preparing – ANSWERING BACK.






Tasmanian Sperm Shortage: Cum to the party
21 December, 2009

The Courier Mail has given me an early Christmas present. Awoke in the already warm pre-dawn to work on the never-ending submission and look what the on-line paper gave me:,23739,26512986-5013016,00.html

Seems there are only four sperm donors currently giving it up for Tassie. Is it just me or does this seem both screamingly funny and a fairly major potential problem? Alright, probably all the mainland gags about inbreeding are largely unjustified island bashing. Still, at present, all babies conceived in Tassie using an anonymous donor have 1 of 4 bio-daddies. Umm, hello? Are they going to mandate that those kids (1) only date and procreate off island or (2) spend their lives from 12 on forced to wear a tee-shirt that proclaims “Proudly conceived using sperm from Daddy #3”

I’m no statistician, but seems to me like Tassie may be only one generation off bringing all those 6-finger jokes to mutant life. Come on guys – all you Mainlanders whose swimmers are still wriggling. Why not plan a humanitarian trip Way Down Under and make a deposit or six while you’re there? If they pay for donations and you’re a prodigious wanker you might come out ahead – and it’s the safest and least exploitative form of sex tourism ever.

Disclaimer:  There is nothing funny about infertility, and I have every sympathy for women (and couples) who have difficulty conceiving.