Sunday, August 31, 2008

WA Liberal Party election launch

Being a safe seat, it makes perfect sense that the WA Liberal Party would hold its election launch in leafy Floreat - see image above.

The budget was tight, so the team opted for a lawn gathering, without furniture (teh Constable woman is keeping it all accountable).

Sniffy was upset he didn't have a chair, but Col was happy because there were plenty of reticulation canals to peruse. Claims of water wastage turned out to be a mis-gnomer though, as the whole gig was a bore.

If you're in the Floreat area, you might just catch the team hard at work - they shift from lawn to lawn mysteriously overnight. No doubt looking for uranium deposits. Rich pickings in them western suburbs.

No sign of the ALP combi van as yet though - last seen parked outside Sizzler with the whole team jumping on board the gravy train, man.


Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Love Pump - live at the Wizbar

I just came across this weblink while backtracking through some archival material about Perth music in the 80s.

For those of you who ever had the pleasure of catching a wild Love Pump gig back in the late 80s, either at the Shents or the Wizbar where this audio was captured, no more need be said.

If anyone has seen my stovepipes and my black suede winklepicker boots, give me a shout!

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Fear and loathing on the WA campaign trail

This election has given me the yips. There is no doubting that the Libs were in disarray only a few short weeks ago, but somehow, Colin Barnett has managed to haul himself out of his slippery-sided retirement canal and looks like having a 'sniff' of winning this race. Who woulda thunk it?

Much of his campaign to date has been based on asserting that Carps' decision to call a snap poll just as we were heading into two weeks of Olympics was the act of an arrogant and desperate man. "He's running and I'm chasing," Col said at the time.

Even Carps is now admitting that much of the shit being thrown has stuck to the blanket and his party is now claiming underdog status - the anti-arrogance ploy... would you like a powerpoint on that?

Making hay while he was nipping at Carps' heels, Col commissioned a series of ad campaigns that tailed off with the slogan, 'Carpenters can't fix everything' (or something equally as corny) complete with the sound of sawing and hammering. A particularly lamentable effort that appears to have been coined by the office work experience kid who no doubt thinks he / she has a fabulous career ahead in advertising - no, you don't.

But that old adage, it's time for a change, seems to have some momentum in this campaign. Yes, we all know the Libs have a list of ex-leaders that rivals Imelda Marcos' shoe collection, but apart from the canal cock up, Col appears to be gaining traction. It's a steep and treacherous slope, but he only has to hold on for two more weeks.

In a bid to knock Col off the pile, Carps is doing what all good West Aussies would, and launching a few well aimed boondies at his rival's bonce. He's hoping to find that rarest of rare boondies that's hiding a stone inside the crusty outer layer of relatively harmless sand. A boondie with a stone at its core is a sure fire way to land an unexpected and potentially critical blow to the Lib's campaign... they've been known to take out an eye and this is the sort of collatoral damage that the ALP is needing right about about now.

Today, Carps held a presser in the back of a combi van in South Terrace, Fremantle, promising to legislate to ban uranium mining... man... if he was re-elected. After passing the doobie across to the Greens - Olympic baton style - Carps calmly readjusted his kaftan, splashed on some patchouli and strolled arrog... ummm... purposefully across the road for a refreshing cup of lemon zinger.

Meanwhile, Col was impressing the kids on NOVA by promising the hosts that he'd personally buy them a handball to kickstart their bid to have Australia represent the sport at the next Olympic Games. Hip man. Broken hip.

So far, the voter comment that most effectively sums up this campaign was aired on 720 ABC radio yesterday. In response to the question, 'who will you be voting for?' a Kingsley woman giggled and fired back with, 'I dunno, whoever my husband's voting for'.

Is it any wonder that in this great State we can't buy groceries on a Sunday and people start foaming at the mouth when you mention daylight saving? And don't get me started on the front lawn. Just don't.

Hang tough and watch out for flying boondies.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

JDRF Walk for a Cure

Hi all, time to show me the colour of your money!

In October, I'll be taking part in JDRF's Walk to Cure Diabetes, an event that raises money to find a cure for type 1 diabetes - a chronic, life-threatening illness that affects over 140,000 Australians and millions of people world-wide.

Almost every family is touched by this disease in some way, including my own.

Type 1 diabetes is an auto-immune disease that is not caused by poor diet or lifestyle choices. An individual with type 1 diabetes needs up to six insulin injections every day, just to stay alive, as well as multiple finger prick blood sugar tests.

People don’t grow out of type 1 diabetes and they are at risk of developing long-term life threatening complications, including kidney disease, blindness, limb amputation and heart failure.

As a father of three, and watching first-hand what this disease can do to a young person both physically and emotionally, a week doesn't go by when I don't wonder, "What if it's one of my kids next."

Type 1 diabetes is a disease that changes the lives of whole families. While young children are great at handling these profound changes, it can be heart breaking to watch as they grow into young adults only to realise the enormity of their battle ahead.

To put it into perspective, how would you feel knowing that by the time your son or daughter reaches the age of 25, they may be facing blindness as a result of diabetic retinopathy? Or, as was the case of one of JDRF’s long-serving patrons Susan Alberti, holding your daughter in your arms as she suffers heart failure mid-flight on her way for treatment?

JDRF is the world's leading non-profit contributor to type 1 diabetes research and the only charity dedicated solely to finding a cure through the support of medical research.

That's why I am walking – to help find a cure, to consign type 1 diabetes to the history books. All donations, regardless of amount, will bring us closer to a cure - and a cure is close, so your donation is very important.

Donate now by clicking on the link below.
When you donate a receipt will be automatically generated.


Sunday, August 17, 2008

Bendigo Bank ad drops the 'C' word

I'm so very glad to see that it's not just me who thinks that the Bendigo Bank's latest ad is sending out a not so subtle message about how the community perceives your average financial institution.

Like myself, the good people at Crikeymedia couldn't help but notice that when the assembled characters in its ad come together, each bearing a different letter from the word COMMUNITY, the three letters in the background stand out from the rest - C_NT. Yes, the most wicked C word of them all.

That's all well and good, but the missing 'U' is being carried in the form of a balloon by a small girl, who is lifted into the heavens as the ad disolves into the Bendigo Bank logo, with the U rising up alongside it.

The first time I saw the ad I turned to my wife to ask the question, only to find her doing likewise and nodding with a bemused, wide-eyed smile. This morning a colleague wandered past my desk and asked if I'd seen the ad - 'yes, and yes' I replied immediately.

All I can think is that Bendigo Bank is using this not so subliminal message to tell us that while we're a part of your community, the bigger banks are just c**ts.

Hats off I say. As long as the nine-year-old doesn't turn to me in the break between Olympics action and ask 'Daddy, doesn't that spell c**t?' then why not.

I would have thought maybe a series of ads featuring different swear words might have been the go - start with a fart, build up to a shit, throw down the gauntlet with a f**k and then ram home the message with a c**t.

But then I'm not in advertising...

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Subcontinent call centres go Aussie

I'm one of those people too lazy to have registered my number on the 'Please Stop Calling Me, Now Piss Off Before I Blow a Whistle In Your Ear' website.

Also, I like teh sport... like putting Sympathy for Devil on high volume and answering the door in your undies when the Mormon's come a knocking.

But just lately the call centre operators in whatever foreign locale they come from - primarily the subcontinent - have gone all Aussie on us. I'm juggling a baby in one arm, while knocking up a vegemite sandwich and doing the dishes at the same time, when inevitably the phone rings.


....loooong pause (the dead giveaway it's a call centre operator on the other side of the globe).

"Hello, Mr Cookster? This is Kevin from South Sydney calling..." Now imagine Peter Sellers in The Party and that 'Birdy Num Nums' accent... or perhaps Greg Ritchie doing his outlandishly patronising 'Mahatma Coat' character. You get the idea that the liklihood of Kev being a Rabbitoh-supporting South Sydney lad is about as plausible as ... ummm... (can't think of his name) leading the Liberals to victory in the next Federal Election.

"How are you today Mr Cookster?"

"A bit crook to be honest Kev. Had a blue with the missus this mornin' then got done over by a used car salesman who's as slippery as a butcher's digit. Fair dinkum, I was that angry at the bloke I was shakin' like a shithouse in a thunderstom. Took me for a test run and the bastard couldn't drive a greasy stick up a dog's bum!

"So, Kev me old, what can I do you for? Mate, you there mate?"

Now there's one very confused phone operator who would have been asking some strange questions at the family repast that evening. "What is this, butcher's digit? And why do Australian's put greasy sticks in dog bottoms?"

To be honest, I would have given Kev the benefit of the doubt in this instance, particularly with foreign call centre operators copping a right old pasting in so many other forums, until I met Barb.

"Hello Mr Cookster, this is Barb from North Melbourne calling. How are you doing today?"

"Barb, g'day love, I'm bonser thanks - hey how about that grouse win by the Roos on Fridee night ay? Jeeze, a bloke wouldn't be dead for quids!"

You get the idea?

Anyone else taken a call from the likes of Murray from Mildura, Barry from Brisbane and Maureen from Mandurah? Drop me a line.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Too bad, so sad - Election 08

It appears that Mr Fels forgot to set his alarm clock and missed the cut off date to register People Against Daylight Saving (PADS) for the coming state election... what a shame. It's been a while since we've had a loony left runner to make things interesting.

But I wouldn't worry too much. Although Barnett's chief of staff position has gone to Deidre 'don't let the door hit you on the arse on the way out' Willmott, someone will need to be in charge of the Grand Canals Project (GCP) when it is sneakily foisted back onto the agenda. Anthony, that job is YOURS.

Expect more from me on the election later, but to be honest, I'm yet to be inspired. Right now I'm heading over to The West Online to see what in hell Paul Murray's latest blog headed up 'Is baby sniffing going too far?' is all about... surely not???

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Drop me a line, or subscribe

A happy Wednesday to you and just a short note today to ask that if you are a regular visitor to The Perth Files, do me a favour and leave a comment on the post that takes your interest.

Or, look across to the right hand side bar and click on RSS feeds - takes two seconds and you'll be able to check when the latest posts are up... that way when I'm being a lazy bastard you don't have to waste your time dropping in.

A couple of simple reasons for the request:

Firstly it lets me know that you're out there and links me back to your site if you're a fellow blogger... if you've got an interest in what I'm saying, I'm sure I'll find your yarns of interest as well.

Quite simply, you interact with me and I'll drop in and help populate your comments pages...

Secondly, it raises my hopes that some of the dodgy keywords that bring people to TPF, read 'Kerry Anne + witch', 'Perth animal sex', 'cops die blog' etc, aren't leaving people disappointed in what they find here. I don't mind if these particular people are disappointed, in fact I hope they are, but it'd be nice to know about it when people actually find what they're looking for, or enjoy what they find.

I also don't mind if you have a go at me either. Nothing like a bit of robust debate, so knock yourselves out :-)

So go on. Can I has comments pleeze? You can also find me lurking about facebook, or going by the monicker of freocookster on twitter.

Thanks to Darren Rowse at pro blogger for his insight.

Friday, August 01, 2008

People Against Daylight Savings - update

* Okay, I've just heard that Anthony Fels new party is actually called People Against Daylight Savings (PADS).

According to Labor, pads will be lining Anthony's cell as he takes a one way ride to the "political lunatic fringe".

Fels launches Anti-Daylight Savings Party

Fallen Lib Anthony Fels says that starting an Anti-Daylight Savings Party and running under this ticket at the next election is not a diversionary tactic, just a cheap way to win votes in the rural sector.

Attempting to extract Noel Chrichton-Browne's hand out from within his sock puppet persona, Felsy claims that DLS is the most pressing issue to our rural voters. To hell with climate change, salination, drought, land degredation and a faltering economy... nup, DLS is the cruncher.

And he's already started on the propaganda trail, inserting a call to arms on the issue in this very clever cinema advertising campaign - it kicks in at about the two minute mark.

Wasn't life great in the 50s? No nasty DLS and you could buy butter soaked popcorn, braised offal and your favourite full strength ciggies from the drive-in snack bar... why do I get the feeling that some people would like to take us back there?