Malingorer

I'm desperately, though not diligently, trying to learn shorthand.

For the second time.

Not that I actually learned it the first time 'round, which is why I have to go through all the pain once again.

So let's see, that's shorthand (twice), French (twice), Spanish (twice) and Indonesian I've now attempted.

Their mangled phrases are piling up like train-wreck carriages in the cornfield of my mind.

Eightelweiss

Man, if you can't remember the 'eighties, you weren't there.

Keep your eyes Peeled

Hazel and I read in the local rag this morning that some archaelogist reckoned he'd found Western Australia's oldest building up at Mt Brown* down in the corrupt-councilled City of Cockburn.

The current title-holder for oldest building is Fremantle's Roundhouse. However, the groundbreaking archy reckons the 1830-built foundations of Thomas Peel's original cottage, located at Mt Brown (rather than destroyed beneath rubble at Woodman Point as everybody had thought up until now), beats it by a few months.

Anyway, this morning Haze and I decided to get all Leonard Nimoy and go in search of. Over hill, over dale, over chip 'n over dale, we haled at pace with nary a glimpse of said foundations.

Leaving me baulking at the explosive consequences of disobeying the pictured warning, Hazel's last resort was to disappear up the sandy path in search of Peel's cottage.

"I'll text you the deets once I've found the house, slacker," and, "What the hell's UXO anyway?" were her final words as she scrambled up the path and into the bush.

She may be gone for some time.

Darkside, Dockside

Well, I went out to a local boozer with SuperFreo! last night to watch his beloved Dockers receive a velocoraptin' from arch-villains the West Coast Eagles.

There were lots of drunk people in this particular pub, because it's owned by Dockers Matthew Pavlich and Paul Hasleby, among others.

What I couldn't understand was the large number of stupid Seagulls (Eagles) supporters that had driven down from Mullaloo just so they could say they saw the Dockers receive a shellacking on a TV screen in the Pav's pub.

Well, my blonde-of-hair, cap-of-tooth, leather-of-skin ladies and gentlemen, I have news for you.

Good luck to you and your families.

Spare the rib, spoil the child.

... and that tetchy mood lasted well into the evening.

Some short minutes ago, I had occasion to breeze through the kitchen, Coopers Pale Ale stubby in hand, exclaiming, "oooh, that looks like a healthy meal you're concocting there, Haze!"

"What are you talking about?!" my miffed wife rebuffed, slaving over her hot stove. "I always cook healthy, low fat meals."

"What about the pork?" I deadpanned.

"That's a lean cut!"

Only Hazel would describe spare-ribs as a "lean cut".

And I am going to bite you!

Hazel woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning ...

Deadset

Hazel's at it again, launching another raunchy blog from her blue collection.

This one surpasses all before it, and is set to rocket to the top of the pops.

So do yourself a favour and visit it.

Give it the best chance that you can.

Nodulaid your land.

And I'm drinking

I am not a computer geek.

Just a geek.

Which is why this new blogger systemyjibbit really gives me the Sanskrits.

Can't we just leave well-enough alone?

When will we be forced to uptake the next version of blogadyjibbit?

And will it again crap all over the preferences I've painstakingly preferred over the years, which I have neither the time nor inclination to rectify.

Blogger sux.


Long live Blogger.



He loved Big Blogger.

Zed's dead man, Zed's dead

I've just made up my mind there's gonna be some big changes around here.

Really big changes.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I may be gone for some time.

My, how I've missed my blog.

You see, loyal readers, I'm a closet Luddite and when Hazel and my computer carked it late last year I found it difficult coming to grips blogging from my work 'pooter.

But now I'm back. Back and slack as a half-arsed hack.