Friday, March 31, 2006

A Man, A Plan, A Canal... America??

Today I went out for lunch with my good friend Chris and among our normal conversation one topic that came from left field started with Chris asking the question,

"Do you want to go to America?"

I nearly choked on the piece of chicken I had just placed in my mouth.

"What??" I spluttered.

"I've been talking to an uncle of mine who lives in America and he does the stuff you do."

After resuscitating myself I asked just what on earth he was planning on doing.

"Well, I don't know yet, just thought I'd run the idea past you to see if you're interested."

"Yeah, I'd love to go," I asnwered.

"Cool, I'll ask my uncle if he'd have us."

Whether anything comes of it will remain to be seen - I know Chris just had 4 weeks off recently so I don't know when he'll be able to get off work again, and considering the fact that U2 is likely to have a concert in November and I'm not sure whether he'll have any holidays left in 2006! But... no harm in planning and asking I guess.

I know Americans are quite hospitable so I can't imagine their being any problem on his uncle's end.

I'll guess we'll wait and see.

Just need to warn Chris about all those properdom women!


(PS - I'll have to make sure that on our way through (or back) we stop at Hawaii! To check... out... the... waves... of course!)

My First Love

I picked up a basketball today.

It's been quite awhile since I picked one up having gave it up about 6 years ago.

Maybe this move will help get me back into playing it again, or then again maybe not. Either way it felt good back on the court again.

In fact I had to chuckle when I made way onto the court I threw the ball from mid court towards the furtherest available hoop and as it skied through the air it rattled and fell straight through.

Yeah, baby.

I'm back.


A Troubled Past?

A couple of things I learnt yesterday that I forgot to mention about the grandfather I never knew was that there was a time in the past where the family had a falling out.

See, back when my grandfather was growing up his father was sent to France to face the first World War and died in battle. He left behind a wife, 2 sons and 1 daughter all of whom were now left to fend for themselves.

Throughout the next few years my grandfather set out to help his mother by providing for her needs and keeping her sustained throughout the remainder of her life.

It was when she passed away where all three siblings thought they were the rightful owner of the property their parents left behind - and this is what divided them.

Although the details were sketchy it hurt Roy financially as he had put so much of his earnings into the house never to recover anything back.

As the years passed and us grandkids grew our current step-grandfather wanted us to know our real heritage and went about setting up a meeting with Roy's uncle: Laurie.

Unbeknownst to us grandkids (apparently I was only about 10 at the time) my step-grandfather Bill put the proposal forward to my uncle (the eldest of the boys Roy had) and according to what Bill said, my uncle was vehemently opposed at the idea of us grandchildren meeting Laurie.

It must have been some fall out!

The meeting was then cancelled and within 6 months Laurie too passed away.

I don't know whatever happened to Roy's brother or sister, a part of me wants to know, wants to see what they all look like, but then again maybe that's why the past is so hidden...

It's not for us to know.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Another Great Laughter Quote

I love these quotes that involve laughter, here's one I received today...

Laughter is inner jogging.
- Norman Cousins

The Grandfather I Never Knew

I was feeling a little nostalgic today.

I don't know why, but upon visiting my grandfather today I wanted to learn more about our family's past.

I found out many years ago when applied for a passport that on my father's application form that his surname was different to ours.

Quietly I asked my mother about this strange discrepancy and she looked at me softly and said,
"Maybe your father should tell you about it."

I could sense something weird bubbling up inside me. Immediately I began thinking that my father was a tax cheat, or an ax murderer, or maybe a real-life James Bond, nothing to what I expected his real answer to be...

"Dad," I asked when he came home from work that day, "how come on your birth certificate it has Hindle as your surname?"

I could sense my father was a little shocked at my question, obviously mum hadn't prepared him. He smiled and for a moment I thought he was going to cry, I quickly added a little humour by adding,

"Are you a top secret spy?"

He turned the smile into a short laugh and then took me under his arm and guided us to the couch. It was going to be a long answer.

"When I was a little younger than you are now," he started (I was 13 at the time I received my passport), "my real father passed away."

He looked at my reaction knowing that although that was all I needed, a barrage of questions were now bottlenecking at the tongue.

"What??" was the first one that popped out.

"That's right," he confirmed, "if my father was still alive today we'd be Hindle's."

"What happened?" evolved the second question.

"Well, one day a truck driver was late on his delivery and asked your grandfather Roy for help with unloading the carcasses from the truck. As Roy began unloading a blood vessel in his brain burst and he died instantly."

I was beginning to get a little choked up in the throat and I could see my father staring off into the distance trying to fight off the tears that had been welling up for so long. I didn't want to continue probing so I left it at that and re-visited it again later in life.

But today I decided to ask my, I suppose you could call him, my step-grandfather if he knew Roy as he had spoken about him in times past.

Today though I was able to glean a lot about the grandfather I never knew.

He was a tall man, such as myself and apparently quite strong (such as myself).


Very polite (but wasn't that the norm back then?) and also shy and reserved (hmmm?).

Smoked (but again that was the norm), but strangely never drank - which explains why none of my father's side of the family drinks too!

He was a prolific reader and oddly enough would eat honey and banana sandwiches (here I was thinking I was the only person whoever eats that stuff!).

I definitely enjoyed travelling down memory lane today as I'm fascinated at the people who were responsible for how I came to be today.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

Better Than Winning Lotto

What do the following items all have in common?

  • Lingerie

  • Mud cake

  • Dinner for 2 at Observation City

  • Dress

  • Underwear

  • Expensive watch

  • Necklace

  • Haircut

  • Candles

  • Flowers

Give up?

It was this woman's birthday gift yesterday from one of the crazy blokes mentioned in that same article!


1 crazy guy + 1 attractive woman + a 20th birthday = 10 gifts!

I don't even want to know what the other guy gets her!

And what's it with giving her lingerie AND underwear???

Am I the only bloke that thinks this is kinda weird?!

Anyway, one other thing is that my opinion of this woman has recently changed.

It seems as though she really is taking advantage of these guys even though what she told me was different. Apparently the same bloke that endowed her with all those birthday gifts told him that she would really like a personal $2,000 music production studio (to help start her singing career)!!

I had to laugh.

Although the crazy guy didn't appreciate my laughter.

Who needs to watch soapies with drama like this unfolding in front of your very own eyes, hey?

(But it does make me somewhat glad that I'm moving to the other side of Perth - I hate soapies)

Paying For Love

If there's one thing that annoys me about men it's that they think they can buy love.

At the moment there is an attractive woman I know who is dating two guys.

Yes, you heard me right a woman with TWO blokes.

Both of these dumb ass blokes are throwing gifts at her to try and impress her. Take a look at some of the things that she has recently been given...

1. An $800 mobile phone.
2. A digital camera.
3. A return flight from Adelaide.
4. A fully paid 8-day trip to the Gold Coast.
5. An iPod.
6. A car (okay, I'll admit that the bloke who gave her this didn't fully pay for it - just half).

I could go on and on but I think you get the idea: some of those toys are quite expensive. Add to that the fancy restaurants, clubs, and other outings she's no doubt been on and these guys are either very rich or very broke!

Do I think it's wrong?

No not all. In fact, she tells me that she tries to refuse these idiots their gifts... but they forcefully give them to her.

She then feels bad for them spending such large amounts of money on her, and equally feels bad that she now has to spend time with them for giving her a gift.

I wonder who will be the first to buy her her own Fijian island?

I even had the opportunity to ask one of the blokes why he bought this woman so many gifts and his dumb reply was,

"Because I love her."

Do you even know what love is??

I know some of the best times I've had with women have been on some of the cheapest outings and this made me realise that women don't need to be endowed with expensive gifts to impress them.

How shallow does that make a woman if she only likes you for the things you buy her! Do you think that maybe, just maybe, a woman might love being in your company?

I know I personally wouldn't want to be around a woman who sees material items as a sign of my love towards her (I'm not that rich!).

No, what I really believe is that these guys are making up for a lack of something they know keeps a woman attracted to them. They probably think that because they're unattractive, lack confidence, have no personality or sense of humour they'll make up this deficiency by giving her the world.

In a similar fashion I think people who try to enlarge certain body organs to try and please the opposite sex are making up for a lack of some of the more important things needed to attract the opposite sex.

I know from my own personal point of view a woman with a beautiful smile, gorgeous laugh and great sense of humour gets my attention quicker when compared to a woman who has large breasts.

But... maybe that's just me.

PS - no I'm not chasing the woman mentioned here. I'll give her credit for her looks, but personality, smile and sense of humour is virtually nonexistant.

New Location

During the past couple of months I've been looking for new accommodation as the owners of the current place are returning soon.

And boy o boy has it been tough finding a rental property!

The rental market in Perth is becoming pear-shaped with huge demand and short supply of rental properties.

Rental buyers have now gone to crazy lengths to ensure they get the property they want by increasing the weekly rental asking price, paying higher bonds, paying several months in advance... etc etc - it's all getting too crazy.

In fact, my sister came up with an idea to search for a rental property together as she has currently secured a full-time job as a primary school teacher and is looking for a place closer to her work.

I stewed over the pros and cons before giving my final answer several days after voicing her idea.

The pros...
1. My sister is a great cook.
2. I love my sister (we get along just fine).
3. The rental costs will be halved.
4. It will be easier getting approved because of her job.
5. My sister has some "nice" friends (who may have even "nicer" friends). ;op

The cons...
1. My sister works north of Perth and the places of accommodation we'll be searching for are pretty much at the northern-most tips of Perth - family and friends will be over an hour's drive away.
2. Bringing home lady friends may be a problem. ;o)

In the end though food, easier approvals and halving costs were the clear winners, so I told her we'd do it.

And what a deadly rental-buying team we were.

We used our alluring charms on unsuspecting rental agent's of the opposite sex and by the 6th or 7th rental property we inspected we finally found one worth fighting for.

After filling out the application my sister received a phone call from one of the agent's informing her that we'd need to up our rental payment to match other prospects who similarly were vying for placement at the same place.

Initially the agent "hinted" to my sister (they can't legally tell you what to put down to be assured of getting the property - it obviously isn't fair to the others) that we'd need to write down an amount between $250-$270 per week! This was from an advertised asking price of $210 per week!!


My sister told me of the new charge and we still thought it was okay (considering that the previous properties we had been searching were in that price range anyway).

The next day when I was ready to submit the new application I received a phone call from the rental property agent. During our phone call she opened up and informed me that our application was one of the top 7, she then began to talk about price.

If there's one thing I learnt in the Marketing & Sales 101 course I did at university it was this:

There are some hot chics in marketing.

Ok, besides that it was...

Silence is golden.

After an offer is made the first person to speak...


I can remember that lecture at uni so clearly, he scared the crap out of everyone. He went something like this:

"If you're ever selling anything and you've laid out the benefits of your product at meeting the wants and needs of your prospect once you've made the offer..."

The lecturer paused, making sure he had everyone's attention.


He boomed out. We all looked around thinking that a group of people were talking amongst each other during the lecture, but the lecturer repeated what he had said, without the pause.

"When you're selling and you make your offer you need to shut up. The next person who talks loses."

After that several people left the room to no doubt go and clean their pants.

And so it was with the agent I had on the other line.

Initially she "hinted" that I place something around the range of $250, and when she paused, I too kept silent - as if procrastinating over her offer (even though inside I was bursting at the seams knowing all too well that $250 was fine and that if we didn't get this place my sister was never going to cook for me ever again!). And then when it felt like an infinity had passed she began "hinting" at a lower price.

"I suppose you could put something in the range of $230 to $240 though," she said.

It was good enough for me, but I decided to squeeze it a little more - I still kept silent, I even took a deep breath just to know that I was still on the other line.

"Or anything between $220 to $230 will be okay, but maybe not highly considered as we have applicants above $250."

This time she held.

I could sense it, but I had a price range.

It seemed the best price for us was around $230.

$220 was too low, $230 was okay, $250 was a shoe in - and considering I wanted to pay as low as possible I told her we'd apply for $230.

After that phone conversation I had a funny feeling we be approved.

And the next day I received word that we did!


On the 7th April we move in to our new place and begin what will no doubt be an interesting journey.

Here's a Google Earth map of the move:

PS - and our new place is only 10 short minutes to the nearest beach - Mullalloo Beach (which is a nice beach BTW). I might have to find a new beach jogging track again.

Summer's Officially Over

Technically summer has been over since the start of March, but officially is wasn't as we had a bout of two to three weeks of great summer weather.

Now though we're back into the mid-20s.

Speaking of weather it reminds me of that joke that goes...

Don't complain about the weather. If it weren't for the weather 9 out of 10 people wouldn't know how to start a conversation.


Anyway, Perth may have a couple more days of beach weather, but they'll be the exception not the the norm.

I hope everyone north of the equator has a better summer than we did down here.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

U2 Update

Before I go it seems that U2 will be re-scheduling a tour of Australia in November.


My only concern is that if they happen to cancel it again I'll be stuffed as my plane ticket would expire near the end of that same month.

So this time I'm going to at least plan a holiday in Melbourne with or without U2 (sounds like one of their songs!). But more on this stuff when it becomes more concrete.

Anyway, I've been quiet over the last few days mainly because Perth has had some mildly hot days - or in other words: BEACH WEATHER!

In fact the forecast over the next few days is...
Friday = 33 (beach)
Saturday = 32 (beach)
Sunday = 35 (beach)
Monday = 36 (beach?)

SO BRING IT ON... Summer is finally coming around!!

And I don't want to hand summer over to the Northern Hemisphere folk TOO quickly... they'll only take advantage of it!


Dunsborough & Golf

Apart from Friday night the remainder of the weekend went quite well.

Dunsborough is a great modern sleepy hollow type town that I could easily spend a lazy weekend at.

Unfortunately the weather wasn't conducive for swimming, but it was great for golfing.

Which brings me to the topic of this post...


Everybody knows about the kangaroos in Australia, if you don't then here's a close up photo of a couple:

Now the strange thing about kangaroos on golf courses is that they don't move!?

I mean, here you have Jon-Jon swinging at a rate of knots at a golf ball that is headed straight for a bunch of roos holidaying on hole #4 and do you think they moved as this ball whizzed passed them?


In fact there were may instances where a golf ball landed no more than a foot away from a roo yet it just looked at it and continued chewing on the grass.


But if there's one LAST thing I want to disclose about the weekend and that's the Dunsborough bakery.

Tas' Bakery is the best.

So have a guess what I had for breakfast Saturday and Sunday mornin?

I'm drooling all over the keyboard just looking at it.

Cabin Of Horrors

Much to talk about, so I'm just going to jump right into it...

If you ever see the words "Fouor Seasons" at a place that you're likely to spend the weekend, be afraid, be VERY afraid.

After travelling for some 4-odd hours in the eerie dark we drove down the main driveway of the Four Seasons Hotel to try and locate our place of accommodation. It should have been an easy task, I mean, 4 blokes, 1 place of accommodation - although we can all read maps we certainly didn't them in a small area such as this.

Or so we thought.

As Jon-Jon and I were the first party to arrive we decided to drive around and use our extremely observant Y-chromosome enhanced eyeballs to spot the place we were staying at.

"What's the number of the cabin?" I asked.

Jon-Jon uncrumpled a sheet of paper that had two large words written in red emblazoned over the page:


"R5?" I echoed thinking how weird it was to number a cabin with the prefix R. It then had me pondering on what the R could possibly have meant.

"R?" my mind echoed, "Ryan? Rebecca? Rachel? Rabbit..."

"Yell out if you see it," Jon-Jon said looking out the driver's side at the campervans and other strange contraptions that dotted the driveway.

"Can you even see a number?" I asked, finding it terribly difficult to see any further than several meters in front, "it's just so dark. Maybe we should ask someone if they know where it is?"

We both thought it was a good idea, and we made our way back to the front.

On our drive back to the admin building I noticed four cabins labelled 1 to 4, but no R and no 5.

"Maybe 5 is at the back there?" I said pointing into the bowels of the Four Seasons camp site where it seemed even shadows didn't escape.

"How about you go down out the back and I'll go and check the front desk," Jon-Jon said passing me the cabin key.

It initially seemed like a good idea and I leapt out of the car and wandered down into the darkness.

Hmm, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all, I thought after seeing Jon-Jon's tail lights disappear into the night, I mean, isn't this what usually happens in horror movies? Everyone splits up and get's taken one by one?

I kept walking further into the night, but every step screamed my whereabouts in the still night.

Eventually I came across a cabin, I found it terribly difficult to read the number located above the door post, so I grabbed the key Jon-Jon had given me and I tried the lock.

The key went in!

But the stupid thing wouldn't turn?? I tried a little harder tried wiggling it a little, but it just wouldn't budge.

And then something freaky happened...

Through all my pushing and budging the door on my left... creaked open!

Uh oh, my mind screamed, you idiot somebody probably lives here!

I quickly stepped away from the door and kept my eyes transfixed at the darker darkness behind the door that creaked open.

"Hello?" I asked sounding more like a whimper than a normal every day salutation.

Nobody responded.

I decided to check it out and went up to the side door and pulled it open. For some strange reason I could make out the forms and objects in this room even though there was no light - it's amazing what white walls can do.

As I stood there in the doorway with my wide eyes making sure I didn't miss anything that moved the dark objects began to take shape:

I was in the outhouse.


Well at least now I could take the opportunity to clean my pants!

But the job was still not yet done.

Where the heck was R5?

I had to move deeper into the bowels of the Four Seasons campsite deeper into the abyss. So, being the Aussie bloke that I am... I did.

The next cabin I came across had an eerier feeling about it. A large tree overhung the cabin as if clasping it in it's branches like a venus fly trap.

I approached this one very cautiously.

As I stepped onto the front verandah a wooden plank loudly creaked and broke the dark quietness. No sooner had I stepped onto the verandah had something above me in the tree rustled through the branches.

It made no noise, it didn't fly, it didn't shriek it just made a hell of a scarey noise moving frantically away from me.

It's just a possum, I told myself, JUST a possum.

I took another step on the old porch and again it creaked. This time a noise in the nearby bushes made my heart race a little more...

It's just a possum... on land, I reiterated to myself, JUST a possum on land.

By now I didn't care how much noise I frickin made so I jumped at the cabin door and tried inserting the key.

But there was NO door knob! Just an old keyhole.

Just where in the hell am I?

I quickly sped back the way I came content that I had tried "all" the cabins "down there" and that the cabin which had the key fit but wouldn't turn was the right one.

As I raced through the bush back to where I thought the Four Seasons admin building was I began to notice that this wasn't the way I came, and for some strange reason there was white sand every where with one pair of fresh tracks dotting through it.

Uh oh.

This clearly wasn't good. Somewhere somehow I had taken a wrong turn, and now... just as I was looking around I saw a man's shape in the distance. It clearly wasn't Jon-Jon or the other boys.

The body was silhouetted in the distance and for a moment it stopped looked around to see if anybody else was around and then proceeded towards me.

Okay... time to run.

My body was ready for the next step in the fright, flight and fight response and high tailed it back to the cabin with no door handle.

I found it quite easily, but knew that time was against me.

I had to keep moving.

Behind me I could hear the sound of faster steps approaching. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

He's chasing me!

I had to move... NOW!

I quickly bounded off the porch and ran like grease lightning. I cleared about 100 meters before I heard the creak of the front porch I had just left from. That only meant one thing...


My eyes scanned at a rate of knots as my heart and legs similarly moved at the same pace. I just couldn't see Jon-Jon or his car anywhere.

Where the hell could he be?

As I looked to my left I saw a dim cabin light and assumed that it was probably, at the very least, sign of life. I didn't dare turn around through my spirited sprint knowing all too well that stupid actors who did often met their demise after tripping over some innocuous thing.

The only problem though was that my heart beat, my heavy breathing and my running was muting all noise from the attacker that lurked no more than a 100 meters behind me.

Eventually I decided to slow down. I was nearing the cabin light and I needed to catch my breath. It was then that I decided to look behind me to see if I was still being followed... nothing.

Phew... maybe he had lost my trail.

I took a deep breath and when I rounded a clearing I saw the Four Seasons admin building... but with no Jon-Jon or car!?

What is going on??

By now I was getting a little angry. I had some mad man chasing me down, my heart was in my throat, and my legs were just about ready to collapse.

It wasn't until I was within a few feet of the admin door that I knew why Jon-Jon had moved on...

The CLOSED sign was displayed.

Great? Now what?

My mind began flickering through a few horror flicks just to make sure I didn't do anything silly, things such as screaming, or going over to the phone booth to dial Jon-Jon's mobile (which I wouldn't be able to recall from moemory anyway) were both a no no.

So what to do what to do?

I decided that the next best thing for me to do was to go through the camp site. Maybe, just maybe cabin R5 would pop out in my travels.

So I did. I went wandering through the campsite.

This turned out to be freakier than the dark scrub I had returned from.

As I made my may down the main stretch of road I looked to the left and to the right - just as Jon-Jon and I had done when we initially drove down, but now my eyes had adjusted to the darkness and I could see numbers where I hadn't seen any before...

"3... 4... 50... 51... 90...??"

What the hell is going on?

Nothing was making sense, and there was no sign of any cabin with the letter R prefixed at the start.

I decided that it was probably best if I walked off the main road and went up and down the cabins. This was a bad decision... a Hollywood horror type of decision, but I had no choice - I was getting no where and the night was wearing on.

To me it was either be captured by some madman, get eaten alive by mozzies for standing still doing nothing, or die trying. I preferred the latter option.

So, as I made my way along the cabins locating cabin numbers that were in conspicuous places I would occassionally walk past the back of a cabin that had a hungry German Shepherd dog that probably hadn't eaten all year.

"Nice doggie," I would whisper as I slowly backed away.

But the climax of the night was finding a cabin that had "5" written on the side of it. I went and walked through the gate to the front door to try the sliding door with the key only to be met with someone staring out at me! You could probably appreciate the fact that by now my heart was evacuating it's shell and high-tailing it back to Perth.

After bounding over the gate and running back to the main road I ran head long into a car...

Jon-Jon's car.

"Hey man, I've found the place," he said matter-of-factly.

Not sensing any response from me, he wound down his window further and yelled,
"Come on, let's go... this place gives me the creeps!"

Just the creeps? I thought.

So what did the "R" stand for in "R5"?



Yes, that's right.

Right what?

I don't know. I suppose it depends on how you view the Four Seasons layout. If you're looking from the inside out then the cabin we stayed in was on the right-hand side of the campsite, however, if you are like me, and looking from the outside in then the cabin we were staying in was on the left-hand side.

Here are some photos of the cabin and the place in general (it doesn't look as freaky during the day as it does at night, but if I showed a night photo it would just be pitch black)...

Thursday, March 09, 2006


The U2 concert has officially been cancelled. I just got off the phone to Aaron and Chris who've both been contacting around getting all the details about refunds, returns, rainchecks and the like.

Aaron's not happy, Chris is not happy, and (more importantly)...


Add to the fact that Qantas will only give us a CREDIT on the value of our tickets and the flame is really starting to burn.

But let's get this fire really cranked up hey Qantas?

We've also been informed that we need to use that CREDIT within 12 months from our purchase date which was back in November last year!


I've got 9 months to organise a flight to goodness knows where, and right now the only thing that wants to fly is my foot up Qantas's...

Okay - I'm livid, so I'm going to explode elsewhere... the gym sounds good.

Outta here.

U2 Concert Postponed??

I've just heard on the radio that the U2 concert in March has been postponed!


Don't they realise how difficult it was getting accommodation during the Commonwealth Games?? How difficult it was to get flights??

Not happy.

Not happy at all.

I just hope that we can postpone our flights and accommodation - although I've got a funny feeling that the likelihood of this happening will be close to zero.

Well that's just made my day.

Another Weekend Down South

It shall be yet another interesting weekend this weekend.


Oh nothing much, just some torture to be meted out on my little brother from a bunch of our crazy friends.


Yes, just a little pain nothing much.

See, it's my brother's buck's weekend this weekend and we're dragging him down south to the sleepy hollow town of Dunsborough where I suppose it will no longer be sleepy or hollow!

As for the finer details on what will happen unfortunately it's a case of "what happens on tour stays on tour", but I will say one thing:

He will not want to get married again!

So we really do have his fiancee's best interests at heart.

Anyway, I'm signing off for a few days, hope you all have a good weekend.

I'll end with an interesting quote I read today...

"Assert your right to make a few mistakes. If people can't accept your imperfections, that's their fault." - Dr. David M. Burns

Monday, March 06, 2006

Labour Day

Today in W.A. we had a public holiday.

Oddly enough the holiday is termed "Labour Day"... where no manual labour is done??

Why such a weird name? I hear you ask.

Well apparently it's a public holiday to commemorate the legislative change from a 48 hour working weeks to a 40 hour working week.

That's it.

I know, I thought it would've been something more grandiose, but alas... it isn't.

So what do people do on "Labour Day"?

Well on a day like today they go to the beach, which can be a real pain for people such as myself who want to surf a few waves and don't enjoy riding on top of 50 other people doing so!

And when you've got two kids throwing sand all around the place it can get even more frustrating.


But I still had fun... and yes, I'm a tad sunburnt, 4 hours surfing is probably a tad too long in the water - heck, even my skin was starting to wrinkle!

But as I was out waiting patiently for the next set of waves I looked back towards the beach and upon seeing several "sights" I wondered...

Whatever happened to female modesty?

I mean, it was quite rare back in my childhood days to see a topless woman on a popular beach, however, today it seems that it's rare to NOT see at least half a dozen topless women.

So whatever happened to modesty, ladies?

It reminds me of the time when I met a chic called Melody, after exchanging names our conversation went a little like this...

ME: Oh no.
HER: What?
ME: Your name is Melody?
HER: Yes. Why?
ME: Well I like the name Melody and I was hoping to name my daughter Melody, but if I get to know you you're probably going to ruin that name for me! Which means I've got to try and think of another name for my girl... and it took ages just trying to find that name "Melody". So, before we go any further, I need to know... are you a good Melody or an evil one?
HER: *laughing* Not too many girls around my age like to admit that they're "good". Most blokes want a good girl when they introduce her to his folks and an evil one every other time.


So is that what has happened to modesty?

It's been the blokes' fault??

So women lower their standard by being noticed and hopefully try to pick up by blokes??

(What does that say about the standard of the guy you attract???)

But then again, maybe all those types of women are just from Europe.

More about European women later.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Leighton Beach At Sunset

Just thought I'd share some beach photos I took last night at Leighton beach.

I'm off to the beach again today she's a hot and dry 36 degrees... perfect beach weather.

(Paul contemplating whether there'd be any sharks lurking out in the water...)

When I was checking my photo album on my photo I forgot to post about this pic that I took over a week ago...

The photo was taken at a new icecreamery place in Freo (I suppose you could have guessed that!) and as I was enjoying this new guilt free delicious I noticed that nearly everyone who walked by this big icecream prop somebody did something to it. I saw a couple of little kids go up to it lick it, boys going through puberty head-butt it, or rub it like a genie was going to pop out and grant them three flavours, or people doing other crazy and crude things to it.

So I thought I'd video capture the event and set about recording from my mobile phone.

But wouldn't you believe it...


I had about 10 minutes of video recording from my top-secret-hidden-nanny-cam mobile phone location and nobody did anything wacky.


Oh well maybe next time.

Anyway, I'm hot (and that's not because of the temperature outside ;op ) so I'm off to Brighton beach to catch me some waves.

Outta here.

Friday, March 03, 2006

Women That Frighten Me

If there's one thing that scares me about women (besides them being Canadian) it's...


Take my brother's fiancee for example.

My brother throughout his short 25 years of male development fell in love with certain sportswomen and female celebrities... as most guys do.

Now strangely enough I thought most women knew this simple fact about men - heck I thought women knew everything about men! However, it seems that there are some women out there that have actually been living under a rock and haven't known of this simple fact! And I've discovered one such woman of whom my brother's marrying!


See, two such women that helped my brother during his hormonal years were Denise Richards (actress in Wild Things, Starship Troopers... etc) and Martina Hingis (Swiss tennis star). And as I soon discovered, not so long ago, that whenever any of these two women are mentioned within earshot of my brother's fiancee it brings about the worst snotty attitude, and even if the context were funny she wouldn't even register a smirk.

This worries me.

If a woman can't laugh at herself, or even on harmless jokes about women that her man WAS at one time during his life attracted to then I think it throws alarm bells that she has issues.

I mean surely the mere fact that her man actually looked at other women should be a good sign - it shows that he at least isn't gay!

I know with my last relationship there were times where I'd jest about Kate Beckinsale, and even though I knew Ella was mildly jealous (or acted as though she was jealous) she made fun of the situation saying such things as,
I'll scratch her eyes out, or
Isn't Kate a chain smoker? (nothing turns me off faster than a woman who pulls out a cigarette and lights up)

But can you see the difference?

Anyway... as you can see insecurity frightens me. Just as women test blokes, blokes similarly test women, and if there's one thing that guys will more than certainly test it will be a woman's insecurity.

So for all those women that are living under a rock (which wouldn't be my regular viewers - so you'll learn nothing new here ladies) the best thing a woman can do when being tested in this area is to call their man's bluff - laugh it away, tease him about it, but whatever you do don't get snotty and develop a sour attitude about it.

And for the guys, etch this onto the inside of your skull:

You'll know the good ones by their laughter.

It speaks volumes doesn't it?

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Summer's Over

I'm a little mixed about the summer we had.

On the one hand there clearly weren't enough beach days, yet on the other hand because of all the rain (etc) we didn't have any heavy water restrictions.

I guess you can't have it both ways. I mean, do you want to be able to live, or have a good time?

Hmm... tough question.

Oh ok, what's a few rainy days amongst friends, eh?

Regardless of summer overall, the last couple of days Perth has had some mid-30 degree temperature days so during Sunday through Tuesday I've had the opportunity to go to the beach to enjoy what may very well be summer's last fling.

And it's been great.

Yesterday I was out body surfing some waves and started talking to a bloke who was learning how to ride a surfboard.

During our conversation I asked him what it was like - as I had never ridden on a board before. After failing to find the right words the guy tore off his ankle strap and said,

"Here. Try it."

I thanked him for the kind offer and tried to decline, but he persisted.

Giddy as a school boy I took the first small wave, paddled as it neared, rode it, fumbled my way on trying to stand up and... fell. This went on for a few more times - falling backwards, forwards, upside down, inside out... you name it I more than likely fell that way.

I cracked myself up laughing and nearly drowned in the process (laughing underwater isn't recommended) and if my surfing attempts were caught on camera it would have been hilarious.

As I didn't want to stretch the friendship I promptly returned his board and thanked him for the opportunity. It sure was a heap of fun!

It then made me think of whether I too should consider taking surfing up. I suppose if I did I could always ask the old man for tips and help as he and his brothers were avid surfers back in their time.

Oh well, thoughts for another time.

But yes, summer is now over.


But I'm sure there will be bouts of it between now and May.