Musings

Did you know that in Queensland, the sun rises at 4.15am during the summer?
I’m sitting here at about 7.30am and the sun is as high in the sky as it normally is at about 10am in Perth.
I’m here because my grandma passed away on the weekend.
My parents offered to pay to fly me over for the funeral, and since then, I’ve found out I will be delivering a eulogy and will also be a pallbearer.

I’ve never really had to deal with death in my family before. I’ve been pretty lucky in that respect. As you guy know, grandma’s death was expected. That doesn’t really make it any easier. I was okay when I was in Perth, but once I got on the plane and started to get closer to Brisbane, it started to hit home. This would be the first trip I had made to Brisbane without seeing grandma.

I guess the thing that has hit home for me is that death is so… permanent.
Meeting up with family I haven’t seen in ages has been great, but reminiscing about grandma just makes me sad. No longer will I be enveloped in those big, warm grandmotherly hugs. No longer will I be able to walk up the back steps of the house on Long Street, through the sleepout and into the kitchen that always smelled fantastic.
No longer will I be able to have thick slabs of bread with lemon butter, surrounded by Tupperware containers that are older than I am.
But she’s in a better place now.
And I’m here to celebrate her life, for want of a better cliché, with my family. That’s the important part.

Seasons Bleatings

It's that time of year again!

Every year, I fail to get swept up in the pre-Christmas hysteria. Usually it's not until a couple of weeks before Christmas that I actually click and think "it's Christmas!"

Usually it's one event that sets me off.

Today, I was standing out the front of my house waiting to be picked up and a bus went past that was driven by Father Christmas.

He turned, looked at me standing over the other side of the road and we waved at each other.

This set me off like a giddy little child.

I'm not embarrassed to say I get excited at these times of the year. Christmas, Big Day Out and, to a lesser extent, Easter make me feel like a little kid again.

I love it. Get excited people :)

Bad bad bad

Now that I'm living in a house with cable television, I find myself searching for the best movies to record and watch at my convenience.
My search for the best movies, however, has seen me neglect my other favourite movie pasttime - watching really bad movies.
So it was purely by chance I happened upon a movie the other night called Renegade Justice. It was made in 2007. It stars Steven Seagal.

Now, I'm having trouble conveying just how bad this movie really was. I'm talking uber bad. I'm talking so bad I was genuinely laughing at the cheesiness and predictability of it all.

Here's the plot - Steven Seagal plays some sort of martial arts expert (of course) whose son, a policeman, is killed in an apprently random gang-related killing. So he goes into the heart of gangland, wherever that is, and kills everyone in his way.
My favourite scene, however, was when he was telling the token love interest about how much his son meant to him. All of a sudden, this a capella voice starts singing over the top of Seagal (think the final scene where Russell Crowe dies in Gladiator). The viewer is then subjected to a montage of black and white mocked up photographs of Steven Seagal with his son as a kid, a teenager then finally, as a young man.

It was soooo bad. So bad I loved it.

End of Year Report Card for the Liberal Party

Ability to perform as an effective opposition FAIL

• Able to give constructive criticism D-
• Able to offer good alternative government E
• Able to make ground in polls F
• Able to unite party behind leader D
• Able to make PM and Wayne Swan look bad F

Things really have changed

This is a welcome news article this morning - one of the Federal Government's men's health ambassadors has been sacked because he refused to repudiate gay-hate views in an article he contributed to for a publication called Gender Matters.
Something tells me the guy wouldn't have lost his job under the last government.

Love Actually

I know I've blogged about this before but I watched it again the other night after the lovely Phynea bought it for me as a present.
This scene in particular is one of my favourite all time movie scenes.
If you haven't seen it yet, watch it.

Housemates

Housemates are a funny thing, aren't they?

I'm currently living with two housemates. One has practically been my best mate for the last 5 or 6 years. Luckily, we don't have any issues between the two of us so far. He works at night, I work during the day. We see each other enough, but not too much. We also enjoy hanging out with each other still. It works well.

The Third Housemate was, until recently, working on the mines up north. He would work two weeks on and one off. His one off would be spent lying on the couch, watching tv and taking drugs and not much else. It was a little annoying for him to be doing that the whole week, but since it was essentially only one week a month it wasn't such a big deal.

But last week, TTH came home for good. He is now unemployed. I don't know if any of you have ever lived with an unemployed housemate before, but if they're not studying and don't have a slightly active social life it can get a little trying at times.

He tells me his grand plans. He's going over east in January, he's doing this, he's doing that, blah, blah, blah.
I've been having trouble figuring out what annoys me more - the fact that I never get any time to myself at home anymore or the fact that he is getting away with doing what I'd love to do. Nothing. Ever.
You be the judge.

Time to say goodbye

I've had a bit of sad news recently.
My grandma (my dad's mother) has taken a turn for the worse and it looks like she won't be around much longer.
It's hard for me because she lives in Toowoomba, QLD, and I don't really have the finances to get over there and see her at the moment.
But my dad's over there, and he was with his brother and sister this weekend so the three kids got to be together one more time. His brother lives in the US so they're all spread apart a fairly large distance.

For me, I've had a pretty good run. Not only do I still have my parents around but right now, as I type this, all four of my grandparents are still alive. For a 25-year-old, that's a pretty good run really.

So Dad called me today when he went to visit Grandma in hospital. I spoke to her for what is likely to be the last time I ever will. It wasn't easy. She was very croaky and had a lot of difficulty speaking but I told her a bit about how well I was going and how my life was pretty excellent at the moment.

In true Grandma style, when I asked her how she was, she said "I'm prety good. We're managing pretty well over here." Never mind that she's quite literally on her deathbed.

While it was hard talking to her, I fully appreciate how lucky I am to a) have had all my grandparents around for so long and b) to speak to Grandma one more time and tell her how much I love her.

When I was three, I used to go over Grandma and Grandad's house when we lived in Toowoomba. I remember playing with Grandma. I would be Kermit the Frog, and I would pretend to go to work with my litle suitcase. Then all of a sudden Grandma, playing Miss Piggy, would scram "Monster!" and I would run back and kill the monster, saving Miss Piggy.
These sort of memories I will cherish forever.

Overheard in my office

English sales rep: 'Nationality' is like where you're from, right?

Aussie sales rep: Yeah, it's the country you're born in.

English sales rep: So my nationality would be English?

Me: ...

Cultural observations made over the weekend

Okay, so we're in the middle of the week already but bear with me.

Please don't grind in my direction
I went to a basketball game on the weekend to see the Perth Wildcats play. Look, I know the game itself originated from the US, but the Americanisation of the whole thing - even here in Perth - bordered on sickening. They play music over the PA during the game - you know, crap like "We Will Rock You" - and every 30 second timeout is accompanied by either dancers, hip-hop artists or cheerleaders.
And the dancers. Don't even get me started. I know cheerleading etc is an (almost) valid part of any American style sport, but at least make the cheerleaders over the age of 18. Please. I don't get offended easily, but seeing pre-pubescent girls bumping and grinding on the court in front of me was just too many types of wrong.

My Big Fat Greek Christening
I also went to a Greek Orthodox church for the first time. The lovely Phynea was in attendance as the godmother of her 8 month old niece, who was getting baptised. It was an incredibly interesting experience, especially considering I had been brought up in the Catholic Church. The basic tenets are the same, it's just there's more Greek and the services are longer. It's also a much more informal affair. I was told that it's okay to chat amongst yourselves before and during the service, and that kids running around the place is not frowned upon.
Phynea told me to expect something in the vein of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding". It wasn't. But maybe that's because it wasn't a wedding.

People-watching observations from a Leederville Cafe.

I love people watching. I sometimes look at people who pass me by and wonder what their story is. They have an entire life behind them and ahead of them with which I may never come into contact. Where have they been? Where are they going? Why are they going there?

With this in mind I thought I'd share some people watching observations I made at a Leederville Cafe recently.

• The underaged indie rocker boy and girl who looked like they were on their first date. Very cute, both ordered hot chocolates and sat across the table from each other and laughed at each other's jokes. The boy was wearing skinny leg black jeans, white sneakers and had a crazy mop of blonde hair. The girl was wearing striped stockings and black clothes.
• The brisk man in the business suit who had worry lines creasing his face and looked slightly lost.
• The group of paramedics that stopped for an hour to have coffees and chat. I'm hoping nobody was dying at the time. Maybe this was their way of reducing the waiting queues at emergency departments?
• The group of four young guys who sat out the front, smoking like a group of chimneys. When they got up to leave, one of them was wearing a purple singlet, had a moustache (I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume it was for Movember) and a beret. Interesting...

They did what??

The news of author Michael Crichton's death was a bit of a shock to me this morning.

I do love thriller/action fiction but the passing of this author brings a different issue to the forefront - that of movie adaptions of novels.

I was a big fan of Jurassic Park, the movie. It was great - Steven Spielberg did a top job, considering it was created in 1992 or something like that.

And so when Crichton came out with the sequel to Jurassic Park - The Lost World - I got very excited. The book was great - I loved every second of it and eagerly awaited the release of the movie.

But I was to be sorely disappointed with the movie adaption.
To this day, it stands as one of the worst book-to-screen adaptions I have ever encountered.

In the book, the scientists basically went to this island, had run-ins with a myriad of dinosaurs and then escaped with (most of) their lives.

But not in the movie. No, in the movie they just tacked a Hollywood ending onto the plot. In the movie, the scientists capture a Tyrannosaurus Rex on the island, bring it back to New York and - you guessed it - it escapes, wreaking Godzilla-style havoc throughout the city.
Shite.

Which leads me to my next question: what, dear readers, are your favourite (bad) book to movie adaptions?

An Open Letter to the soon-to-be Former President George Bush

Dear George,

First of all, fuck you.

Secondly, I'd like to thank you for your contribution to world politics. You have almost single handedly made the world a scarier place in which to live. You have shamed your entire country so that most of them cannot travel without having, as one of my fellow bloggers put it "shit hung on them." You have ruined this election for your own political party.

I hope history judges you for the dimwitted, near-sighted, power hungry war monger you are.

All the best,

Dave.

P.S. Obama rocks.

Could it be?

It's been a while since the front page picture on our State's daily paper has sent a shiver done my spine.
But today I feel hope. I'm excited.
The West's page 1 picture says it all - Bill Clinton and Barack Obama arm in arm at an election rally.
Surely they can pull it off now. I mean, Australians got together and kicked Howard out after 11 long years in power. Surely the winds of change can reach across the Pacific Ocean and affect the US election result.
The last eight years under Bush have been an abhorration. The world has lost faith in the US as a 'superpower' and the world is a much more dangerous place because of some of his direct policies.
But I'm willing to forgive all that if the US votes in their first African-American president.
I'm willing to forgive all that if they dump the Republican party and vote for a party that cares more for its fellow people and the world at large.
I'm not dancing a victory dance just yet. But my heart is in my mouth.
Fingers crossed.

Did you know...

...that there is a condition - abbreviated to CIPA - that essentially means a person cannot feel pain or extreme temperatures?
Its full name is congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis. It is a condition involving the mutation of nerve cells which are responsible for transmitting signals of heat, pain and cold to the brains.
How do I know this, you might ask?
From Orhan's blog The Death of Retail Price. Sure, Kate and Observer caught on before me. I'm a bit of a newcomer, but that doesn't make his blog any less awesome.
Check it out.

Sick days

It's interesting being the boss these days.
I've had no less than three separate staff members struck down by gastro in the past few months.
I'm beginning to think gastro is the new 'food poisoning'.
Now, I'm not here to pass judgement. Some of those staff members may well have had gastro. I've never had it before, so I'm not really one to judge how long it would take you to get over it. I suppose it's different for different people.

I do know, however, that my sister had gastro recently. She was seriously ill and had to take three days off work. Which makes me wonder if a one-day recovery from gastro isn't a little fast.
Incidentally, I also got an email one morning saying one of my staff members, who had previously used the gastro excuse, had food poisoning.
I didn't believe him - but that's mainly because he's not a trustworthy member of staff.

The thing is, you can't really "not believe" someone if they call in sick. It's not fair. But at the same time, I've used the food poisoning excuse before. When I didn't have food poisoning.

A former employer once told me they had a staff member whose grandma "died" three times over the course of 18 months. Needless to say, third time was a charm.
My rate of sickies isn't particularly high, but usually the common cold is the best excuse - if you can pull off the symptoms, that is.
Which makes me wonder, dear readers, what are your best excuses for calling in sick when you aren't actually sick?

Otis Redding - My Lover's Prayer (1966)

Spend the time and have a listen to this song.
I heard it on an episode of the Sopranos the other day and looked it up.
This is real music, with passion and emotion.
I love it.

We've been here before...

Any regular reader of this blog will know of my deep love for the show Heroes.
It is pretty much my favourite TV show ever.
But I'm a little concerned.
After a brilliant first season, I recently watched the second season in it's entirety (thanks Bri) and am now onto season three, courtesy of a friend in the features department at work (thanks Ross).

Let me explain. I watched the first episode of Lost. It was a brilliant pilot, full of promise and enough to get anyone interested in the show. But six seasons later, the show has become a mess. I stopped watching after season one, when the script writers refused to answer any of the questions raised by the show. Rather, they raised more questions. Before long, a show that had a definite goal - for everyone to get home - became convoluted and messy.

After watching the first five episodes of the third season of Heroes, I'm starting to wonder if the same will happen to this show. Sure, Heroes doesn't have a definite goal, so it's going to be less frustrating than Lost, but it is starting to raise more questions than answers.
And that has me a little worried.

No...

...I will not do a story about:

a) your car being broken into. This shit happens every day. Talk to the police.

b) your 'good cause' story sponsored by a multi-billion dollar global corporation. They can pay for advertising.

c) the fact that the gardener at the school across the road from you disturbs your slumber at 7.30am every morning by using a leaf-blower.

d) your missing cat. I'm sorry, I'm sure you feel terrible, but go put some flyers up.

Stupid, stupid, stupid

I could bitch and moan about how my 'competition' newspaper, a stupid, worthless rag whose name isn't even worth mentioning, has just hit new lows.
But I won't.
Instead, I'll just direct you to Observer's blog. She's done it all for me.

Quick question

What do you think of the name Pandora for a baby girl?

The Flip Side

As I type this blog I'm sitting in the loungeroom of the lovely new house I moved into today.
Now don't get me wrong - I'm not here to gloat - but I just need to share with you guys how I'm feeling at the moment.
Right now, I'm not far off calling 2008 The Best Year Of My Life.
Unnecessary use of capitals, perhaps, but I really can't stress enough how happy I am right now.

In the last six months alone I have had a job promotion (in the process getting away from the office - and boss - that I moaned about quite regularly in this very forum), a pay raise, a wonderful new girlfriend and a new car.

I've also started to get on top of my finances - something I'd not been able to do my entire life before recently - and have moved out of the house I hated into one with one of my best friends.

It's sickening, I know, but life is seriously looking up.
And that makes me smile.

The Battle of Long Sandwich

So we went to the 2009 season launch of a local theatre company last night at Government House.
After arriving midway through the speeches, we took up pole position at the back of the room and knuckled down.
Soon after arriving, it became apparent that while the alcohol was free-flowing, there was a severe shortage of finger food.
Then, out of nowhere, a waitress walked to the table I was standing next to and plonked down a full tray of gourmet sandwiches.
I thought all my Christmases had come at once.
I picked up a sandwich and started to congratulate myself on standing in such a fine position for the speeches, until I noticed a shadow over my shoulder.
Another man, who obviously hadn't had the chance to grab dinner before the launch, had seen the opportunity of a platter full of sandwiches and moved nearby.
Then it began.
I'd take one, pause for what I thought was a respectable amount of time, then have another.
My competitor shadowed my every move.
It was almost like an arms race until, before we knew it, there was only one left on the plate.
I glanced at the sandwich, then at the competitor, sizing him up.
He did the same to me.
Then he leaned forward and made some comment about the speeches.
It was a clever move, designed to throw me off guard while he claimed the sandwich for himself.
But in a brilliant counterattack, I swiped the remaining morsel as I leaned towards him to listen to what he had to say.
Turning around, I smugly devoured the sanwich, feeling his cold hard stares on the back of my head.
But it didn't matter.
Victory was mine.

A collection of short thoughts on Parklife OR Festival hats and their dual purpose

• Bands in general are fantastic to watch at dance music festivals. At an event where most of the acts include a couple of guys bent over some turntables, it's always refreshing to see a band play music the old fashioned way. Soulwax and Goldfrapp were cases in point. Truly sublime.
• Yesterday was the first time I'd worn a hat to an outdoors festival and let me tell you, it's something I will be doing regularly from now on. Not only does it prevent your scalp from burning bright red, but when the sun goes down it keeps your head warm. Genius.
• Text message from me to mate who was spending the weekend in Albany: "I got into Parklife - I got a free ticket plus VIP entry! How's Albany?"
  His response: "Yeah, well it ain't Parklife..." How true.
• Festival text messages and trying to find someone. Gotta love it. The chances of you finding the mates you are looking for are always pretty low, but once you do find them, it's all worth it. I also love receiving five text messages at once because the network is jammed and everyone at the festival is trying to do the same thing.
• Perth weather. It really is the best for outdoor music festivals - a fine, 24 degree day is pretty much the optimal condition you could hope for. And that was what we got.

Good times

It is with great excitement that I feel I should announce I am finally moving house :)
No longer will I be living all the way down in Fremantle but, as of October 11, I shall be a West Perth resident.
How exciting.
What's more exciting is that I am moving in with one of my best mates and at the same time moving away from one of the worst housemates I have ever had. But let's not re-open old wounds.
Suffice to say thinigs are most definitely looking up.

PS: Did I mention the house has a plasma television and Foxtel? Oh, yes it does.

In case you were wondering...

A learned friend of mine pointed me to this article which, for those of us not involved in the business or finance worlds, gives a pretty good, understandable explanation of all the fuss happening in the world of economics at the moment.

Bit o' this, bit o' that

I haven't had much of note to blog about this week so I thought I'd post a little update on how I'm going personally.

Quitting smoking is still going well - there's been a lapse or two here and there but overall, I'm forging ahead as planned. Already I've noticed a difference in my lung capacity when I'm going on one of my (now regular) morning jogs.

I'm also in the throes of sorting out some of my financial issues - I've drawn up a repayment plan for my outstanding debts (credit cards, personal loans etc) and started putting money aside for savings, holidays and Christmas presents. Pretty soon I won't know myself.

I'm still enjoying being editor - sometimes I miss the writing part a bit but more often than not I can sink my teeth into a story if I want to. And I do love being my own boss, to a certain extent.

I went to the ballet on Friday and saw what was touted as a modernised version of the nutcracker. In essence, the ballet wasn't really anything like the nutcracker, apart from a couple of tenous thematic links, but I actually enjoyed myself. Last time I went to the ballet (to see the Taming of the Shrew) I hated it. The high point of the ballet on Friday was seeing the you-couldn't-carve-these-out-of-wood-if-you-tried abs of the female lead. They were horrifying and inspiring at the same time.

And on Tuesday I went to see Hellboy II at the movies. Put together by the ever brilliant Guillermo del Torres (the director of Pan's Labyrinth) it was more than just a superhero movie, it was a fairytale of sorts. This guy is amazing in what he can do to weave intricate stories and create magical worlds. See it if you can.

And that's me. Thanks for listening. :)

Music news

There's a couple of new albums that I'm incrediby excited about at the moment.

The first is End of Fashion's new one - it hasn't been released yet, but a well-connected sales rep at work managed to procure a copy of the album and gave me a listen.

And I have to say, it sounds brilliant. I was a big fan of their last effort, and this one seems to take it up a notch for the Perth band. Think the Killers' second album in comparison to their first.

There's one song on there in particular that, when it's released, could elevate End of Fashion into or close to the realm of Silverchair and Powderfinger.
But don't take my word for it - grab a copy of the album when it comes out.

The second album I'm thrilled about is - at the risk of switching off some of my regular readers - the new Metallica album.

Hear me out.

It came out today and I grabbed a copy of it this morning. It is SO good I'm having trouble putting it into words. It's epic, fast furious, metal a la Metallica in the 80s.

This album is by far their best release in the last 20 years. If you are at all a fan of early Metallica, you must get this album. From the screaming guitar solos to the softer ballad-style songs and the hate-filled lyrics, no Metallica fan will be disappointed. The shortest song on it is seven minutes and some go to more than 10 minutes long.

Roling Stone gave the album four stars and the reviewer likened it to the musical equivalent of Russia invading Georgia: "a sudden act of aggression from a sleeping giant."
Not bad for a bunch of sober, balding guys in their 40s.

Day in the life of an editor #2

8.53am: Receive press release about art exhibition, along with eight megabyte attachment that turns out to be an application form for said exhibition.

An open letter to Mr Carpenter and Mr Barnett

Dear sirs,

It is with much interest I watch the two of you scrambling for allegiances to form a coalition after what was a really, really close election.

I love the fact that the Nationals are holding the two of you over a barrel.

Mr Barnett - well done - you've done exceedingly well in uniting the Liberal Party in four weeks, win, lose or draw.

Mr Carpenter - I told you so. Act like an arrogant wanker for long enough and, whether it's true or not, the public will soon start believing it.

Whichever way the election falls I have quite enjoyed watching the outcome.
I'm prepared to go out on a limb and call this election a victory for justice and accountability.

Regards,
Dave

Lily Allen vs Sir Elton John

The greatest retort you will ever see from Sir Elton.

Day in the life of an editor #1

9.44am: Received phone call from Channel 9 journalist asking if I had any idea where Fran Logan was. Sorry, Fran who?

It's on

(Please excuse the crudely edited image - we have a poor man's version of Photoshop on our work computers and as a result I can't do exactly what I want to do.)

I saw today that Dark Knight is a measly $100 million off beating Titanic's box office record for highest ever movie takings.

So this is a call to arms guys.

Everyone knows Titanic was crap. Everyone knows Dark Knight was awesome.

Go out and see it one more time - you know you want to - and help make it the greatest movie of all time.

I'll be doing my bit :)

Over it

Ir's really hard trying to quit smoking.
I wasn't going to blog about this because the last time I did, with much fanfare about a year ago, I lasted a miserable 5 days.

But I changed my mind.
So, yesterday, I decided to quit. For the first time in five years I went for 24 hours without a cigarette.
And I feel great. Fantastic even.
But the worse part is the negativity I have had to battle from friends and colleagues since announcing it.
Ranging from "whatever" to "don't worry, you'll be back on them by the weekend", it surprised me how few people actually encouraged me quitting.
Only my parents and a couple of office colleagues have even gone to the trouble of commending me.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not doing it for the pats on the back. I've adjusted my attitude today. It doesn't matter what other people say or do - I'm doing this for me.
Let the fun begin :)

I like Tom Cruise again.

And believe me, that is not a statement I would make lightly.

The man who went from heartthrob to headache has redeemed himself - completely - in Ben Stiller's latest laugh-fest Tropic Thunder.

In it, Cruise plays a mega-rich Hollywood producer in disturbing make-up. He's bald, and has the arms and chest of a particularly hirstute gorilla. Even his hands are fake.

The movie itself is brilliant. It is essentially a massive piss take of Hollywood and the film making process, as well as the mega rich actors involved in it.

But Cruise steals the show as the foul mouthed money-means-everything producer. The best part? When he, out of the blue, cranks some crappy 50 Cent-style R and B song and proceeds to dance like a white man trying to imitate a black man.

I don't want to give away anything else but go see this film. It's a great laugh and Cruise's ability to completely take the piss out of himself - and I do mean completely - has made me believe that the man is human after all.
By far one of the best comedies I've seen in years.

There's even a little part of me that wants to do a donkey vote. Only a little part though.

I'm becoming increasingly concerned as the State election draws closer.
There's two weeks to go now.
The West, as to be expected, has railed against the Labor Government from the moment the election was called.

The problem I'm having is that, as the day draws closer, I'm starting to see that most of what they're saying is right.

I've always been a left-wing Labor voter. I even voted for Mark Latham, for god's sake (hey, i was young and didn't know anything about politics. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.)
My grandfather worked on the docks in the 1940s, so I guess you could say left wing politics have kind of always been in my blood.

But the Labor Party does not deserve to be re-elected.
And now I find myself agreeing with the West's criticisms of Carpenter and his inept and uncaring government.
I read today that Eric Ripper pulled $1.5 billion out of nowhere and pushed it through cabinet the week before the election was called. $1.5 billion! And this from a Government who caused disgracefully paid teachers to strike because there wasn't enough money. The same Government who had a god-knows-how-many-months pay dispute with police over a meagre rise to a paltry salary.
They called the election the day after the Liberal Party installed a new leader.
And now all of a sudden they're throwing millions of dollars at anything that moves.

They need to be taught a lesson, but at the same time the idea of voting for a conservative Government grates so strongly with me that I just can't bring myself to do it, regardless of how good the politicians are that make up the Liberal Party.

I live in the electorate of Fremantle. I can tell you right now there's no way I'll be voting for Jim McGinty. But the Liberal candidate hasn't even made himself known to me down there. And not only am I a Fremantle resident, but I'm the editor of the Fremantle community newspaper! Not one press release, not one flyer in the post from this faux-candidate.

So I guess I'll be voting Greens. They've been the most vocal in my electorate - I'd be willing to vote independent but again, I've heard nothing from any independent candidates.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm frustrated. Frustrated that the State Labor Party, led by Alan Carpenter, have made me so disillusioned as to not vote for them. Frustrated that the only other choice of major parties is a party that traditionally and morally places money and business ahead of social welfare and compassion.

At the end of the day, at least I can take solace in the fact that John Howard is no longer our Prime Minister.

Pure TV Gold Vol I

Last night, I watched a half hour show on Channel 9 called Dog the Bounty Hunter.
This show is awesome.
It basically centres around Duane "Dog" Chapman, a bounty hunter who lives in Hawaii and goes about catching people who have missed court dates or have outstanding warrants issued against them.
He catches them, cuffs them then takes them into the cops and picks up the reward for their arrest.
Him and his 'team' of bounty hunters, that is.

Oh, did I mention it was a reality TV show?

I don't know what the legalities of it all are - they wear some kind of badge, but they're not cops.
They also have guns and handcuff people, as well as sometimes just walking into a house and grabbing their 'target'.

But apparently it's all okay, because they made a TV show about it.

Oh, and the best part about it? Once they've captured said criminal, they spend a little while with them, trying to make them see the error of their ways.

Of course, Dog himself is an ex-con - but he's since rehabilitated and now spends his life trying to do the same for others.

Check it out - if only for the massive lion's mane of a mullet this guy sports.
Channel 9, Tuesdays, 8pm.

What was said vs What was meant to be said

During a drunken Friday night.

What was said:
"I didn't mean to shut you off, it was just all about me then and I didn't realise I was upsetting you."

What was meant to be said:
"I didn't like you then and I don't like you now. Let's not pretend to be friends."



What was said:
"Wal's friendship is not a competition, I realise that now."

What was meant to be said:
"Wal's friendship is a competition. It's okay for me to say that now that I'm winning."



What was said:
"We should definitely make this a regular occurrence."

What was meant to be said:
"Don't call me, I'll call you."

No, seriously...

How's this for a TV show - grab eight drug or alcohol addicted celebrities, put them in rehab for 21 days and film the whole thing.

When I saw the ad for Celebrity Rehab with Dr Drew, I was rather excited. How trashy! Surely this would be reality TV at its best.

And I was not disappointed.
Now, before I go into it I should let you all know that this is a Foxtel show, so the only reason I got to watch it was because I was staying at my parents' house and using their pay TV.

Nonetheless, it's great television.
The celebrities are premium B grade celebrities. First cab off the ranks is Jeff Connaway, the actor who played Kenickie, one of the T Birds in Grease. There's Brigiette Nielsen, there's the lead singer from that one hit wonder rap/rock band Crazytown, there's the actress who played one of the children in the long running sitcom Family Matters and even a porn star named - wait for it - Mary Carey.
Gold.

But that's about where the trashiness stopped. The show was actually quite full on, confronting and intense.
All of the 'celebrities' arrived at the rehab centre drunk, stoned or high.
Jeff Connaway had to be helped out of his car and was in a wheelchair for the first 24 hours, which gives a pretty good indication of his level of inebriation.
He then had a seizure less than 24 hours later as he started to suffer withdrawals from the cocaine and alcohol.

Don't get me wrong, the trash factor is there in the celebrities that appear on the show. But the content and subject matter of the show is far from trashy. If you can download it, or buy the dvd, I highly recommend it.
I'll probably never get to see another episode again because I don't have Foxtel, but it was well worth it just to catch one episode.

Did I mention the porn star's name was Mary Carey...?

I have something to confess...

...I'm a bit of a softie at heart.

Don't tell anyone, it would ruin my reputation, but I don't mind a heartwarming tale of long-lasting love of an afternoon.

Sometimes I actually like to write the stories about Golden Wedding anniversaries we do with some of our community newspapers. I know, I know.

Like the one I wrote down in Rockingham this week, about a couple who first met as teenagers in Malta, where the wife was born.

She saw her future husband - an English orphan who was living nearby - and, after expressing her interest in him (late 1940s style) he swiftly turned her down by saying "I'm not interested in little girls."

Years later, she grew up and moved to Australia. When the jive scene started in the 50s, she used to go out with her sister and at on of these events met a man who turned out to be her childhood crush from Malta.

They've now been married 50 years.

But that isn't really why I wanted to blog here today. What I really wanted to point out was the picture, taken by our photographer.

There's nothing particularly eye-catching about the subject, but the framing is almost perfect. Note the position of the couch and the matching vases in proportion to the edge of the picture. But it's not just that - look at the couple gazing at each other. Then look down below the waist. They're both wearing tracksuit pants and tatty shoes.

This picture just sums it all up for me - they didn't go out of their way to get dressed up for the photo or anything like that. They didn't need to.

They have everything they need right in front of them.

Note to the "journo" whose story I just spent 15 minutes re-writing:

1. It is not okay to copy and paste an entire story from a press release. Journalism 101.

2. Especially when part of that press release is plugging someone's business.

3. Names have CAPITAL LETTERS.

4. You can't spell a politician's name "Shenton" in the title and "Shorten" in the article.

5. Go back to England. Oh, you are. How fortuitous.

Quote of the weekend

From Lindsay's leaving drinks on Friday night.
By a person who will remain nameless:

"I stan't cand."

Or the time that Matt J punched Matt C at the bike rack and then rode off on his bike?

I got the message this morning.
On Facebook, nonetheless.

"Hi guys, has anyone heard anything about our ten year reunion? 2010 is only a couple of years away and I wasn't sure whether this was planned by the school or if we did it ourselves."

Oh god.
Are we really at this stage?
Are we really planning for a ten year reunion that's still two years off?

Not that I'm too worried - but I do find the prospect of a reunion slightly sickening.
Likewise with the fact that everyone is friends with everyone else on Facebook these days.
Everyone seems to have forgotten the relationships we had in school.
On the one hand, I think that's a great thing - we're all moving up and becoming adults, which to a certain extent may mean that we can put the past behind us.
But part of me also thinks it's a little superficial.
Do you think, for example, that Daniel thought about the time Adam punched him in the face in front of a growing crowd of 13-year-olds before adding him as a Facebook friend?
Or do you think Kate thought twice about adding people like Elaine and Susan as her Facebook friends, people to whom she would not have given the time of day during our school years?

It is funny though, seeing where people are at these days.
For example, seeing a handful of the "popular" girls at school running around with children 18 months after graduation.
And seeing the guy who was one of the most homophobic men I'd ever met come out of the closet and become one of the campest guys I know.
And seeing the kids who were picked on in school becoming more successful and making more money in their adult years than their detractors.

Maybe it won't be so bad after all. Swings and roundabouts and all that....

Well it's a big, big city and it's always the same...

This is a line I hear from fellow bloggers all the time, but - I've been a slack little blogger lately.
My apologies for not updating you with the tales of the wonderful and the mundane, but I do have a few excuses.
Firstly, my new job is fairly busy. It's not often I get the chance at work to sit down and gripe about this or that. And secondly, I actually haven't had that much to bitch about. Yes, life is still going well. Sickeningly well in fact. The old me would have said that something must go wrong soon - but I no longer take that view.

If you tell yourself something's going to stuff up, nine time out of ten, it will. It's all about the positive thinking.

So, instead, let me regale you with a story about the band I saw last night. They were called The Fratellis. And the absolutely rocked my socks off.
No, really, they were that good.
And then they got to that song that everyone's waiting for. Chelsea Dagger. And bugger me if it wasn't the most fun-filled live song I've ever heard.
Before that, the crowd was loving it.
But when this came on, something changed.
All of a sudden, people were jumping around, singing along, reaching for the sky - and I was a part of it.

Stuff like that makes me happy to be alive.

RIP Hell

Today I bear news of fellow blogger and journalist extraordinaire Lindsay's retirement fom the world of blogging.

For just over two years, young Lindsay has been a tour de force in the blogging arena, entertaining us with stories of her times, travels and tribulations.

The blog itself has been shut down with no fanfare or farewell message, so I thought it best to pay my respects individually.

So here's to you young Lindsay and thanks for the memories.

Is it just me?

Music, to me, is my main passion in life.
Sure, writing is great, and I do love my sporting teams, but for me, there's nothing better than that shiver down the spine you get right when the lead singer hits THAT note at a live gig.
Or even the shiver you get when the moment you've been waiting for, that moment when the background music fades out and the band walks onstage to the overflowing anticipation of audience members.
In fact, I get the shivers a lot when it comes to music.

I don't know what it is about me in particular, but I'm yet to find someone who gets quite as excited as I do when a) one of my favourite bands put out a new album, or b) one of my favourite bands announce a Perth show.

I'm like a kid at Christmas. I've now been to eight Big Days Out on the trot (I will never miss one as long as they're running) and I have trouble sleeping the night before.
Seriously.
I sleep in fits and starts and, usually, at 4.30am, I'm wide awake at the prospect of seeing a plethora of bands that I've never seen before.

I'm the guy who, mid conversation in a restaurant or cafe, will stop and say "Oh my god I love this song," while the person I'm talking to makes some comment about not realising the music was even on.

I say all this because one of my favourite new bands, The Fratellis, are coming to Perth next week. I'm so excited. I've been listening to The Fratellis songs for a good month or two in anticipation, trying to decide which ones they'll include in the set and where.
No doubt I'll tell you all about it next week. But for now, I'm just going to try and focus on the work at hand and push the idea of seeing them aside.
Otherwise there would be no work done at all.

Deja vu

Next week, I'm going back to my roots. Kinda.
Well, in truth, I'm going back to Rockingham for a fortnight.

For some reason unknown the powers that be have decided that it would be better for me to travel down to my former office and act as editor while my former boss is away than to leave it in the more than capable hands of the senior journalist who (apart from working there for six years) has been acting editor on numerous occasions.

Despite my tone, I'm not actually dreading - I'm kind of looking forward to it.

A couple of the people I worked with will have resigned or will be on leave when I'm down there, but on the whole, it is a fun office in which to work.

The news is always interesting, and the editorial team down there have actually had a bit of stability for the first time in a while.
And my old boss will be on leave, which means I won't have to deal with her.
And it's only for two weeks.

Have I convinced you yet?

Quote of the weekend

(From the horrifying bogans sitting behind us at the rugby, after an Australian player scored a try):

"Show me where he shits and I'll roll in it!!"

You know the one

What's the word for that sinking feeling you get when you look at the story list on deadline day and realise you've only got half the amount required to fill the paper?

How not to win over an editor to your cause when sending him or her a press release

Fill the envelope with star shaped confetti that spills out all over his or her desk when they open it.

I'm still in awe

Last night I was lucky enough to be invited to the premiere of Dark Knight, the new Batman movie.
After handing in our mobile phones and going through a metal detector to ensure we had no recording devices on us, we sat down and buckled up for the ride.
And what a ride it was.
Seriously, this is the best Batman movie ever made.
I'm not going to give too much away, because it doesn't come out for a couple more days, but suffice to say Gotham is a dark, dark place, the Joker (Heath Ledger) is one of the scariest bad guys I've seen on film in a while and he unleashes hell on Gotham in a self-declared war with Batman.
And Batman is oh-so-cool.
I'll shut up about it now, but take my word for it - the film lives up to the hype.
In fact, I'm seeing it again on Friday :)

10 Guidelines for Making a Superhero Movie - something the makers of Daredevil really should have looked at.

1. Don't hire Ben Affleck as the lead.

2. Don't make him blind - he just looks a little bit disabled with cloudy, crossed eyes.

3. Don't hire Jennifer Garner as the female lead.

4. Don't throw in a weird, almost matrix-like fight scene as a 'romantic' interaction between the two main characters.

5. Don't hire Ben Affleck as the lead.

6. Don't put a piss poor background story about the superhero's dad - who was a loser, but a good guy at heart - getting killed by an underworld kingpin.

7. Don't insert a sickening Hollywood sex scene between Affleck and Garner. No, really, please don't.

8. Don't insert a Catholic priest with an Irish accent. It's just too convenient.

9. Don't use Evanescence on the soundtrack.

10. Don't hire Ben Affleck as the lead.

Idiots

There is one thing that really, really irks me. The mob mentality.
There is nothing worse, and certainly nothing more frightful, than a group of rednecks who gather together and protest about something that they a) know nothing about, or b) are simply wrong about.
I refer to the recent kerfuffle in Queensland about a convicted paedophile for whom the State Government i desparately trying to find accommodation where he won't be picketed, threatened or lynched.
Now, don't get me wrong, I am by no means condoning what he was convicted of in any way, shape, or form, but the thousand-strong mobs that hav been picketing the front of his house and calling for him to be removed from the community are shooting themselves in the feet.

You see, the guy recently had another charge against him dropped because the presiding judge stated that he would have no chance of a fair trial. As difficult as that may be for the victim or their family/friends to accept, that is the way the justice system works.
However, since moving to the latest property, there have been strong, emotional calls by outraged rednecks to get him out of their community.

The thing they don't understand is, by doing what they're doing, they are jeopardising the chance of him getting a fair trial even more, and he will end up having any charge he is brought up on dismissed on the same basis.

Police officers and Government Ministers have tried to appease these crowds that have begun to gather daily out the front of his house, but they just don't get it.
Sure, I understand they might be concerned for their kids, but the guy is under 24-hour police watch until further notice. That's 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, there is a police officer by his side.
How can anyone possibly do anything with that sort of attention on them?

The whole episode scares me, and it reeks of the Deep South in the US circa 1960s. Ku Klux Klan, anyone?

Breaking up is never easy

I caught up with my sister last night.
She's 23, and her four and a half year relationship with her live-in boyfriend has just come to an end.
It's a sad time for her and being so young and having been through such a long term relationship can be either a blessing or a curse.

I like to think of it as more of the former. She's got her whole life ahead of her. She knows, deep down, that she'll be okay, but not having been there before it's hard to see past the immediate short-term future.
But my words to her won't necessarily make it any easier.
It hurts me to see her in pain. I'd love to reach across to her, give her a big hug and absolve her from any hurt or pain but that's something I can't do.
I've been there before. I know the pain subsides, I know the hurt fades and I most certainly know that that old cliche, "there's plenty more fish in the sea" is as true as any other.

When I was in high school, I used to channel my break-up angst into writing song lyrics. It was a great way to put your feelings down on paper and you get the added bonus of getting your creative juices flowing. Recently, I found a book of lyrics that I had written during such a time.
Man, were they dark. It unsettled me a little knowing there was a time and I was in a place in which I felt that angsty.

At the end of the day, there's not a lot I can do for my sister other than be there for her. I can take her calls, catch up with her when she wants to and give her a shoulder to cry on - but she needs to find out for herself that there is life beyond the person you loved, the person you thought you knew, the person who was, for all intents and purposes, your best friend for a number of years.
And for me, that's the hardest thing about break ups.

SOOO excited

The first reviews of the new Batman movie are out - and bugger me if the film just may live up to all the hype.

Follow this link to read the reviews from the Sun and Rolling Stone.

I've been a fan of Batman since I received my first Batman costume at the tender age of 5, followed by a cool-as-hell Batman skateboard I got a the age of 6.

To this day I still have the skateboard - I think I actually used it once but the design on it is too cool to throw away.

Then came the Batman movies - Tim Burton's ones - the first and second, with Michael Keaton, were always my favourite. After that, they got crap pretty fast. The ridiculously over-the-top Batman Forever and Batman and Robin destroyed the name of Batman in my books.

(I mean really, Val Kilmer??? What were they thinking??)

But Christopher Nolan has resurrected the franchise. He brought Gotham City back to the dark, festering breeding ground for criminals it once was, and with Heath Ledger playing what, by all accounts, is a bone-chilling villain in the Joker, I can hardly contain myself.

Oh. My. God.

Did you hear about this???
I'm so outraged I'm speechless at the moment. I had no idea this had even happened.

Bunghole

(n) 1. A hole in a barrel or cask; used to fill or empty it. 2. Vulgar slang for anus [syn: arse] 3. Affectionate nickname given to Bunbury, usually by people who have lived there.

This weekend, I made a trip down to Bunbury. For those who don't know, I started my journalism career down there (a regional city with a population of about 50,000, about 200km south of Perth) and lived there for what seemed like forever. In reality, it was only 8 months. But I hated it. I'm not a country boy, I'm a city boy through and through an spent most of the 8 months down there driving back up to Perth every single weekend to hang out wih my friends.

Despite this, I did make some friends down there and it was my former housemate's 30th birthday, which was the reason I travlled down.

While I had fun, the bogan to normal person ratio was way too high - I spent the night dumbing down my conversations and talking about boring stuff.

Until one of the bogans decided to start a political discussion with me. I tried so hard not to take the bait. I really tried hard.
I was good when he told me that he voted for Howard and that he was the best Prime Minister Australia had ever had. I didn't take the bait.
But when he launched into a tirade about the apology to the Stolen Generations, I could hold back no further.

Really, I was good overall, but I basically explained to the guy that the apology wasn't about porportioning blame so much as expressing regret for what happened. But he didn't get it. He told me that because the Government made the apology, he felt that he was being blamed for what happened.

In the end I let it go but it really encapsulated for me what it is that I hate about Bunbury - and why I'm so happy I don't live there anymore.

Best cover EVER

Read this article and play the clip.
Celine Dion and Anastacia doing a duet of "You Shook Me All Night Long" By ACDC.
Pure, unadulterated, embarrassing gold.

A little faith has been restored

Last night I had the privilege of seeing Powderfinger play at Metro City (perks of the job - I had to write a review for the paper).

They were brilliant, but that's not what I wanted to talk about.
While I was standing there watching the band, a young man who appeared to be quadraplegic moved alongside us in his wheelchair with a friend of his walking nearby.
While trying not to stare, I could not help but be moved by the unconditional love shown to him by his able-bodied friend.
Firstly, he ensured his wheelchair-bound mate had a good position, clearing people out of the way who were lingering in his line of sight.
Then he made sure he was most comfortable.
He removed the braces from around his legs, gently removed the windpipe from his mouth and then pulled his mate's glasses out of his pocket, wiping the lenses clean before placing them on his nose.

I was almost overwhelmed by the love and care this guy showed for his mate. I could not even begin to imagine what it would be like being disabled to the extent this young man was. And yet, nothing seemed too hard for his friend.
I started wondering whether I'd be capable of giving that level of care to someone close to me. I hope I never have to find out, but I would like to think maybe I would.

About 15 years ago my cousin in Queensland was involved in a car accident. A guy who had no license and was too stoned to be driving crashed into the back of her car, sending her into a coma for three months.
When she woke, while her mind was as sharp as ever, she literally had to learn how to walk, talk, write and use basic motor skills all over again.
Her husband at the time left not long after she woke up. He was roundly criticised by family members and written off, but still to this day I find it hard to blame him. Can you imagine the situation he was in? Can you imagine how terrible he would have felt pulling the pin?

There's not really a point to any of this rambling other than to say that seeing this young man last night gave me a little more faith in humanity.
And I love it when that happens.

Hi

Since I haven't blogged much this week, I thought I'd give you all a quick update on, well, me.

Current likes:

• My new job. In particular the bit that involves not working for my old boss. Also the increase in pay.
  
• Cigarettes and alcohol. They're fantastic together. 'Nuff said.
  
• The new Fratellis album. Review to follow when I can stop listening to it.
  
• Making new friends and catching up with old ones. Always a favourite of mine.
  
• Watching the state Liberal party wrench that knife even further into its own back.

Current dislikes:

• PR people pushing a McDonalds initiative and then querying why I didn't mention the company name in the story. It's McDonalds. They do not need free advertising from me. No offence to the particular PR person involved if he's reading this.
  
• Sales reps who try and stamp their authority over new editors and tell them what stories to write. You picked the wrong one, sorry :)
  
• Receiving calls from my old boss who continues to whinge about how hard her life is for her - I can't get away from it!
  
• People whose personalities change when they get promoted to a position of authority. There's just no need.

Overheard in the office

In keeping with Dan and Kate's respective blogs on toilets...

Manager at employee bathroom: Why is this door propped open?
Waiter: Eric just dropped a bomb in there.
Manager: Fuck, man, spray that air freshener.
Waiter: I did. The stink actually laughed at me.

Circle Centre Mall
Indianapolis, Indiana

Retail Therapy

So with my first (editor's) pay packet this weekend, I went shopping.
I bought myself my first pair of black skinny leg jeans, and they're awesome. I never thought I'd be able to pull off skinny leg jeans, but I actually found a pair that not only look good but are comfortable as well.

I also managed to snare a pair of Converse sneakers for half price - $40 - to go with the jeans. Awesome.

And all this in time to go The Fratellis' concert at Capitol on July 31, for which I also bought my ticket today.

How exciting.

And in world politics today

Gordon Brown seems intent on completely handing over power to the conservatives in the UK.

Not content with Tony Blair ruining his image by so closely aligning himself to George Bush and pledging troops to a war that never should have happened, Brown has pushed a new bit of anti terror legislation through the house.

Now, in Britain, if you are a terrorism suspect you can be held without charge for 42 days.
That's six weeks. Without charge.

It's interesting in the current world climate that conservative governments such as those led by John Howard and George Bush are now suffering (or have been kicked out already) largely as a result of decisions they have made in their war on an abstract noun.
What's disappointing is that the Labor Government in Britain seems intent on pigeon-holing itself with the same decisions.

And in other news, George Bush doesn't think he deserves the image of warmonger bestowed upon him by pretty much the rest of the world.

In an article in the West today he says his gun-slinging talk leading up to the 2003 invasion of Iraq made the world think he was a "guy really anxious for war" with Saddam Hussein.
He said he was misunderstood and expressed regret: "I think that in retrospect I could have used a different tone, a different retoric."

No regret for the millions of Iraqis who have been killed or injured as a direct result of his war.
But then, hindsight's always 20/20.

Sucker for punishment

Roughly a year ago, I blogged about a good friend of mine who had just broken up with his girlfriend for the fifth or sixth time over the course of - wait for it - one year.

Since then, he's been on again and off again with her a few times, most recently off again.
I know this isn't a nice thing to say, but she's a horrible person, and his attempts to patch up the relationship really aren't worth it.
Particularly when the reason they break up all the time is because she won't tell him if she's pissed off with him, rather, she'll keep it to herself until one day when he does something trivial like puts the wrong cutlery down on the dinner table, upon which she flies off the handle.

So anyway, the long and short of it was that they've broken up again. I was on the phone to him and he was saying how he couldn't do it anymore.

Me: "You've only just realised this? How many times did you guys break up, like, eight? Didn't you think after the first two or three that perhaps it wasn't worth it?"

Him: "Actually, it was more like 30 times, at last count."

Me: "..."

30 times!!!
Now THAT is ridiculous...

Sex and the City - A Guy's Take

I saw the SATC movie the other night. If you haven't seen it, don't worry, I promise this blog contains no spoilers.

About four years ago I fell in love with four New York girls by the names of Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte.
The show was groundbreaking - we were seeing female lead characters who were fiercely independent, hot and funny, yet at the same time they all had a human side and were not machines.

I loved it. One by one, I hired or bought each season and watched the entire series through.

There's been a lot of debate about the movie. A review in the West said that while it was good, it failed to live up to it's naughty, sharp reputation.
Bollocks.
It was great. Yeah, it might not have been as provocative as the first episode, but that wasn't why I was there.
I went to see the movie to see the characters one last time. To see where they had been, what they had been doing and to finally find out what happened to them in the end.

The film was all this and more.
Go see it - it's worth the 2 and a half hours just to see all the loose ends tied up.

Back by popular demand...

The story about the money in the bag.

So, last night, a woman who only wanted to be known as Melissa successfully claimed the money from police.

She said that her and her boyfriend had been on their way to make a deposit on a business.

She went on to say how happy she was that there were still honest people in the world.

Personally, I'm still a little skeptical - why was she making a business deposit in cash? And, more importantly, why a brown paper bag?

Maybe I'm just a little quick to convict someone based on what appears to have happened...

Overheard in my office

Journalist, on the phone to a friend: "So how's your mate with that child sex thing?"

Did you hear the one about the $10,000 cash the guy found on his front lawn?

He handed it in to the police.

Seriously.

There's been a story in the news in the last couple of days about a family in a Perth suburb who noticed a brown paper bag on their front lawn.
After not doing anything about it for the first couple of days, thinking it was rubbish, the son eventually went out to clear it off the front lawn and found $10,000 worth of hundred-dollar bills inside it.

So he handed it in to the police.

Now, my first reaction was that I would do no such thing, but it would appear that their honesty might just pay off - if no one claims it within 60 days it is given back to them.
And let's be honest, whoever's brown paper bag it was, they'd have to have a pretty damn good excuse to actually get it back off the cops without themselves being investigated.
On the news this morning a police officer said there had already been two failed attempts by members of the public to claim the money.
Hilarious.

So...

I had the BEST weekend just gone.

Had birthday drinks on the Friday night, which attracted a sizeable crowd from work as well as friends from school that I hadn't seen in ages.

I got some awesome presents, including a couple of ultra cool t-shirts, a couple of great books (a collection of Rolling Stone interviews, from John Lennon to the Dalai Lama, and Red Hot Chili Peppers lead singer Anthony Kiedis' autobiography) and a couple of other goodies to boot.

Friday night also involved lots of pictures, as you can see below.

And the rest of the weekend was spent in similar style, sleeping in, shopping, drinking, relaxing and just enjoying myself in general.

Long weekends are never long enough...

Stunning

Quote from a story about the Sam Newman debacle - the story was written by a journalist as a reaction to the whole thing:

“There are lots of knockers in women’s footy but I don’t think he’s one of them.”

And that was a woman that said that. Awesome.

And now we cross live to another blog...

An old school friend and wine expert I know has started a blog on wine called Tannic Teeth.

The blog also touches on music and food and is rather interesting if you're into any ofn those three topics. Which most people are.

Check it out.

I am SO outta here...

Yesterday morning I went to a Chamber of Commerce breakfast.
After the breakfast I was offered the position of editor at Myaree for three of the company's mastheads.
By yesterday afternoon I'd found out I was starting next Tuesday, after the long weekend.

It's all hapened so fast - and I couldn't be happier.

So today, right here, right now, is the last day I will have to make the half hour trip down to the Rockingham office.
It's the last day I'll have to put up with my soon-to-be-former boss.
You, dear readers, have heard me whinge and moan about this place on a fairly constant basis.

I want to get one thing straight - it really hasn't been all bad.
I've made some great friends both in the office and in the wider community, I've had the opportunity to get to know an area that I otherwise would never have known about, and I've gained some invaluable experience from working in an office where a half-hearted effort was never good enough.

To be fair to my boss, she has been good to me overall. She fought for a pay rise on my behalf and she was the one that encouraged me to go for this new job.

But it's easy to look at things in a different light when you're moving on.

As for me, I can't wait. Working in an office that is so close to home, editing a paper that is delivered to my doorstep, and being given an opportunity to do a job of which I know I am capable. AND I get to work alongside Observer.

I'm very excited.
Oh, and did I mention it was my birthday tomorrow? :)

I won't be crying into my weetbix over this one

This just in - Australian Olympic hopeful Nick D'Arcy has pretty much had his last chance of swimming for Australia in Beijing denied.

Good.

I try not to be the vindictive type, but the time has come where we stop idolising our sports stars to the degree where they get off with little or no punishment for doing stupid things like abusing drugs or assaulting people.

Seriously, this guy D'Arcy - allegedly, he hasn't been convicted yet - punched a teammate of his so hard in the face that he busted the guy's mouth. He was charged with grievous bodily harm - this is not just common assault we're talking about, people.

The worst part was that he did it only hours after qualifying for the Olympics.

Now, I don't know about you, but if I had just qualified for the Olympics, I would be on such a natural high that there would be very little anyone would be able to say or do to make me want to throw a punch at them.

Suffer the consequences D'Arcy - maybe next time you won't resort to being such a thug.

I need to share something with you guys

I am sickeningly happy right now.

Like, happy how the male protagonist is at the end of some crappy romantic comedy where everything goes to shit but in the end everything is sorted out nicely.

Happy enough to evoke retching in most of the people I know that read this blog.

Apart from the fact that I am actually, finally getting on top of my finances for what is really the first time in my life, apart from the fact that I have some really promising job prospects on the horizon and apart from the fact that I have some of the most amazing friends ever.

Apart from all that I'm still giddy with happiness.

I've made some tough decisions about my life in the past few weeks and so far, they've all paid off.

I am so happy with where I'm at right now that I just needed to share that with my dear readers.

I hope some of this happiness brushes off onto you guys :)

Okay I'm done now. Thanks for listening.

Blah blah blah

I've written no less than four blog posts this morning and deleted each one of them.
The truth is, I don't have much to say today.

My birthday is coming up this weekend - which is always fun - and in other parts of my life I'm generally either happy or making changes where I'm not.

Working with my boss is finally starting to get a bit too much so I'm starting to consider my options elsewhere.

I'm reading a great little book called "Blood Sucking Fiends" which is a cool little comedy about a girl who wakes up in a dumpster as a vampire.

I went bowling on Friday and, for the record, I am bad. Really bad. Out of a possible 300 (perfect) score, I got a measly 58. Isn't that just awesome?

The Eagles won on the weekend - a rarity these days - so that makes for a pleasant little surprise.

And did I mention my birthday was coming up? :)

Facebook grammar terrorism

It's a frightening concept, isn't it?

You know those quizzes you do on Facebook? Well I got one sent to me the other day called "Stylish, Smart or Social?"
For the uninitiated, you answer a handful of questions based on your personality/lifestyle and they tell you whether you are, in this case, stylish, smart or social.

So I answer the questions and the following result is posted:

Your You

You are you and you may not be the smartist or the stylish or the most social but you have your own qualities and thats great!

Jesus...

Another week, another trophy

Last week Manchester United were crowned Kings of England.

This week they were crowned Kings of Europe.

To those WA footy fans out there, regardless of your team at the moment, I would strongly recommend diversifying in terms of your sporting interests.

The fact that the Eagles are so woeful at the moment is like water off a duck's back to me - because I've got United to follow too :)

You know what I love?

Being up at the crack of dawn.

Hear me out.

I love the fact that the air is crisp and clean. I love the fact that the sky is gradually yet noticeably getting lighter. I love the fact that the moon is still in the sky. I love the fact that people are darting backwards and forwards like ants, on their way to their respective homes or works. I love watching the streetlights slowly blink out, one by one, as the sky gets lighter. I love the fact that the whole day is ahead of you.

But most of all, I love the fact that a new day equates to a fresh start, a new beginning. Anything could happen.

Just a quick update

I'm listening to some music and reading a book I'm quite excited about at the moment -so I just thought I'd let you know.

The new Pendulum album - In Silico - is everything I'd hoped it would be and more.

Also, I received a new CD today from the lovely folk at Amphead Music by a band called Dirt River Radio. Apparently they're a blues-rock outfit, but it's the cracking title that got me, despite the fact that it sounds a bit country and western - Come back Romance, all is forgiven.

Reviews for both of those CDs will follow in the next week or two.

And finally, speaking of cracking titles, I'm reading a great little book loaned to my by a lovely work colleague of mine that was written by a guy named Paul Carter.
The title is Don't tell mum i work on the rigs, she thinks I'm a piano player in a whorehouse.
Gold.
I'm about halfway through, and basically it's a bit of an autobiographical tale about Carter's crazy experiences working on oil rigs around the world in dangerous and exotic locations.
I'm loving it - I read halfway though it the first time I opened it, and hoping to read the rest tonight :)

That will be all.

Oh. My. God.

Okay I've just returned from Dan's blog and I am so excited I can barely contain myself.

When I was younger there was one television show that I watched religiously. Week in, week out, I would tune into the supernatural adventures of Special Agent Fox Mulder and Special Agent Dana Scully.

That's right - The X-Files - and with the news that another X-Files movie is being released I'm having a lot of trouble containing myself :)

Get excited people - and visit Dan's blog to see the trailer.

Awesome.

I'm sorry, what?

You would think, wouldn't you, that being the host of a daily current affairs program on the national affairs broadcaster you would have a pretty good handle on your grammar?

I was listening to the ABC's PM program last night when a story about UFOs came on.

The host proceeded to pronounce UFO as a word, rather than three individual letters.

It came out sounding something like yufow.

Now that's paranormal.

Feel the love

There's nothing quite like a bit of an upheaval to really sort the wheat from the chaff in regards to your friends.
I'm going through a couple of major changes to my life at the moment, some of which have been doing my head in, but a few kind messages of support from friends goes a long way to making it all okay.
Thanks guys. You know who you are :)

Sabbath's Theatre

Some time ago, Observer blogged about a novel she had read called Sabbath's Theatre.

With my curiosity piqued, I decided to borrow the copy through the CNG Lending Library and give it a read.

I've never read any Philip Roth before. My dad told me that he was apparently banned in Australia in the 60s or 70s for writing a book about a guy who could not stop masturbating.
After reading Sabbath's Theatre, this sounds about right.

Basically, this was the most challenging book I have ever read. Many times I put it down when it was just too hard and too wordy to read, but about halfway through the book I clicked.

Roth, like the absolutely reprehensible protagonist in the book, Mickey Sabbath, was challenging me to put the book down. He wanted me to say it was too hard and give up. So I persevered.

And in the end, it was ultimately a rewarding read. Sabbath is such an unlikeable character - everything he says or does throughout the book is intended to cause pain to the people around him.
He is a twisted old man with an obsession for sex and goes to the point of shutting out or offending pretty much everyone in his life that ever cared about him.

Roth uses the nice little stylistic trick of switching from first to third person about half way through the book, pretty much at the point in which you realise Sabvbath is slowly losing his mind.

*WARNING: spoiler ahead*

In the end though, he ends up with nothing, and while I was expecting a slightly more spectacular ending, in hindsight I thought it was pretty appropriate considering his escapades over the course of the novel.

My car hates me right now

My car and I have been through a few rough patches over the turbulent three years we've known each other.

I almost wrote it off once - but no, I had comprehensive insurance and, surprisingly, the insurance company decided to fix the car rather than junk it.

Since its resurrection some two and a half years ago, I have added a myriad of scratches, nicks, paint marks and small dents to various sections of the car body.

Then, on Monday, one of my friends reversed into my car. The worst part was I was standing there watching it happen.

I called out my friend's name once, twice, three times, then on the fourth I heard the bang.

It's such a sickening sound, isn't it?

Metal on metal, car versus car.

To my friend's credit they are in the process of organising it to be fixed and I know they feel terrible about the whole situations.

I've managed to pry open the driver's side door just enough so I can get in the car without climbing across the passenger seat.

And still, the old girl dutifully starts every day and takes me to and from work.

More loyal than a dog, I say.

Touch wood.

Soccer mad

Following a readership survey of this blog, I have calculated that roughly less than 3 per cent of my readership will care about the following blog entry.

But I don't care.

Because, you see, Manchester United have gone to the top again, winning back to back English Premier League titles in style.

That's all. I won't bore you with the details.

I'll be handing down my budget mid-week

Today is my first day as acting editor while my fearless leader is away on a self-funded jaunt.

To celebrate, I'm bringing in a raft of changes that will be applicable in the office from today.

• Triple J is the only station permitted to be played during work hours.
• All staff shall address me as Sir David.
• I will start at 11am and finish at 3pm every day. Other staff will pick up the slack during the hours I am not here.
• Certain members of staff will be charged an idiot tax - how much that tax is and when it is charged will depend on the circumstances and the level of idiocy shown. In the interests of fairness and equality, I myself am not immune from such a tax.

I'm also announcing a major reshuffle of office duties. In a bid to create a better understanding between staff members about their own separate roles, I have decided that, for the next week, sales staff shall write editorial for the paper. Journalists will be put in charge of distribution and sales assistants who man the front desk will become advertising representatives. Distribution staff will be out the front in a bid to make them a little more customer focused.

Heck, if it doesn't work, we'll just change back on Monday week when the boss returns.

Faker - Be The Twilight

Okay, so this isn't exactly a new album - it came out in February - but I've had trouble taking it out of my CD player long enough to do the review on it since I bought it.

I should put this review in a bit of context - I loved Faker's first album Addicted Romantic. It was dark and broody yet packed full of power pop rock.

So Be The Twilight was pretty much a perfect follow up.

Kicking off with the hit single This Heart Attack, the CD is pretty much the perfect Aussie pop rock album.

Are You Magnetic?, the band's latest charts offering, is a great little ditty about life and it's intricacies: "Are you magnetic?/Do you land in the right place?"

However, it's after the first two singles that the album really shines.

Killer on the Loose is laden with groovy bass and drums while the soaring melodic guitar riffs round out the track.

In general, the album shows a more mature Faker (great rock and roll cliche number one).

The Robert Smith-style twang of the lead singer's voice has been reduced a little in this latest offering - which can't be a bad thing.

There's even a slower, ballad-style song reminiscent of Crowded House (Kid, Pleas Try Harder).

But by far the standout track on the album is Dumb Mistakes - a brilliant narative on the - you guessed it - dumb mistakes we all make when falling for one another: "If we joke and we continue to talk like this/I'm scared we might be making the same dumb mistakes/I want you/and your same dumb mistakes I want/your same dumb mistakes I want."

Love it.

Four stars.

Are you kidding me?

You would think, wouldn't you, in this day and age, that if a guy walks into work with a pink business shirt on it wouldn't be such a big thing?

I went to a function surrounded by State politicans, industry representatives and the Deputy Prime Minister of Australia this morning. No one made any comments about the fact that I was wearing a pink shirt.

I get to work and my editorial colleagues say nothing.

I walk past the sales area and nothing is said.

And then I walk out the back into the - you guessed it - distribution area and Dumb and Dumber are out there.

D1: What's with the pink shirt?

D2: What pink shirt?

D1: Look at Dave.

D2: Wohoo!! Dave! What's going on here hey, who've you been hanging out with on the weekends that's making you want to wear pink?

Me: Jesus guys, I really thought we'd moved on a bit from those sort of comments in the last decade or so. Apparently not.

I walked out of the office, turned around and said: Sorry, guys my mistake. I must have given you two a bit more credit than you deserved. I won't make that sort of assumption again.

I don't think they got it.

Just so you know

I had an awesome weekend.
Caught up with some old friends, made some new ones, had a big night on Saturday followed by a lazy Sunday.
What more could you want?

I have something to confess

I'm in love. Completely and overwhelmingly. Have been since I was 15. With Jennifer Love-Hewitt.

Stop it! Stop laughing! Stop groaning and rolling your eyes!

Seriously though, ever since I saw her Oscar-worthy performance in I Still Know What You Did Last Summer, my life has never quite been the same.

Now, I'm not normally one to go for the waif look. I am not a fan of scrawny girls. At all.

But for Jennifer, I'm happy to make an exception. As far as I'm concerned she fits (just) inside the healthy weight category.

And this week comes the news that young Jennifer has been voted TV's sexiest woman.

Good to see the rest of the world agrees.

But... what do you want me to do about it?

In most jobs, if people aren't getting the required job done, there's a process. Usually that involves counselling, followed by workshopping and a whole bunch of other workplace cliches.

At our paper, we are having a few distribution problems.
Heck, that's nothing new. Anyone who has ever worked at any paper can talk to you about distribution problems.

But I have come to realise our problem lies within.
You see, we are one of the only papers in the company to have our own distribution manager. Its a pretty large area so I'm sure that's what the job requires.
But this person has been in the same role all their life. Literally. They are in their 30s and they have never. held. another. job.
Let me repeat that again. In their 30s, never held another job.

I don't know what you think about that, but for me, that's just not healthy.
But it's frustrating because in today's litigious world most bosses are too frightened to fire anyone - even if they do deserve it.

Which led me to my next thought - what are this person's (workplace cliche alert) key performance indicators? Surely if the papers aren't getting delivered properly, they're not doing their job properly.
Simple, yes?

Apparently not.

Emotive Anzac Day writing? Never...

An excerpt from a local (opposition) paper and a story about Anzac Day:

"A cool breeze at the war memorial carried the sounds of anticipation in the lead up to the commemoration service..."


I'm sorry, the sounds of anticipation?? Wtf does anticipation sound like??

I've made a decision.

I'm going to stick it out down here for the time being.
As much as I whinge and moan about the job and, more specifically, my boss, I think that if I stick it out for the next year or so I will have a chance to do something worthwhile, and maybe even make editor in the process.

Don't get me wrong, I still reserve my right to whinge, but for the moment I'm going to concentrate on work down here and not potential plans elsewhere.

All in good time :)

Grammar Terrorism alert

From the business card of a Mexican restaurant that I love to frequent. The restaurant will remain nameless.

"Mi casa es su casa. As we say in Mexico, my house is your house. We are pleased you have payed us this visit..."

The Raveonettes - Lust Lust Lust

From the opening fuzzy chords of The Raveonettes' fourth studio album Lust Lust Lust, the listener is transported to a place far away.

The understated vocals and Garbage-inspired drumbeat of Aly, Walk With Me conjure images of dark alleys and back streets in a large cityscape.

After parting ways with major record label Sony/Columbia, The Raveonettes have hit back with an album that is dark, groove-laden and, quite simply, brilliant.

Black Satin is the fifth track of the album and one of the best sounding tracks on the record.

Soaring guitar licks lift the feel of the track and the album, again transporting the listener to a far away city.

The fuzzy guitars are engrossing and act as a veneer for the deep, dark lyrics throughout the record.

One of the final tracks, With My Eyes Closed, is one example of such lyrics, with lines such as “I close my eyes/to hurt you/to leave you/I never told you/that I/can't stay/it was never meant/to be/for me.”

The bleakness of Expelled From Love resonates with any red-blooded listener and the entire album in itself seems to be a patchwork quilt of stories from the Danish duos' personal journals.

The listener is taken on a journey of despair and debauchery with a smattering of hope thrown in to even things up.

In all, the album is top notch and it is one that will sit highly on this reviewer's list of favourite travel albums for some time to come.

Sorry, where exactly do you think I am?

Voice message left on my phone from HSBC:

"Hi, this message is for David Johns, can you please call HSBC on 1300 163 163 between the hours of 8am to 8pm Monday to Thursday. We're on Sydney time so we're about six hours behind you."

By my calculations, there is no time zone on this planet that is six hours in front of Sydney.