The Perth Files

Need Someone Who Bats (Cool for Cats)

2012-01-13T10:00:00.001+08:00

To the tune of Cool For Cats by The Squeeze (with apologies)

The Indians send signals
From the Narrows overpass
The WACA groundstaff drinking
On the pitch and on the grass

Sharma's with the captain
Munching lamb chops with Dhoni
He doesn't mind the curry
It's the media he don't need

He likes to ride on go karts
When the coach is fast asleep
He wakes to find the spirit's dead
And arrows in their backs
And Bradley Haddin rides around
And says 'you need someone who bats, someone who bats...'

Hilfy’s bowling ninety
'Cos he's got the word to go
They've got a gang of pacemen
In the sheds ready to go
They're throwing down the bouncers
The openers choke again
In and out the changerooms
Single numbers on their names
It's funny how their scorecards
Always look the bleedin' same
And meanwhile in the nets
There's a couple of Aussie lads
Who swear like Rodney Marsh
That they're very keen to bat
They're keen to bat

To change the mood a little
Tendulkar's bought in some flash grub
Cooked by Gogo Govardham
Lamb chops fat and plump
They fancy this, they fancy that
They wanna have a dash
They do a bit of sledging
Bout the grass that's on the track
All they get is caught behind and stumped behind their back
And by the time last drinks are called
They’re miserable and sad
And ev'rybody tells them that they need someone who bats
Someone who bats

Shake up at selection
And they think they've got Pup's mark
They fire down the short balls
And he nails them to the wall
He misses for the first time
And then they drop a catch
He notches up a triple ton
They choke on lamb chop bones
He likes to go the tonk you see
But he's not on his own

He said I'll see you later
And sends them in to bat
But it's not happy in Chennai
They want someone who bats
Someone who bats

The Great White Shark Hunt

2011-10-24T10:55:00.000+08:00

Apologies to Hunter S. Thompson.

Don’t ask me how, but I did the impossible and wangled a CHOGM media pass not only for myself, but for my outrageously loud Fijian lawyer who I’d bought with me on this gig to handle ‘supplies’. And the way things were shaping up, we were going to need all the supplies we could lay our greedy hands on if we were to maintain some semblance of sanity and avoid having our skulls cracked by the trigger itchy security goons on every street corner.

Welcome to Perth, home of the all mighty mining dollar where everything’s fast, shiny and shuts at six. As all good gigs go, this one had taken a sharp turn to the left and was fast sliding into the realms of absurdity – a place where only the most drug addled of minds can operate successfully without succumbing to crippling, eye gouging paranoia.

It was not a place to be without a high powered weapon. I had been here before and I would be here again, but first something had to die.

Lazlo and I found ourselves riding high on the fly-bridge of the FarQ II heading out of Fremantle towards Rottnest Island. We had intended to spend the day running amok on a Captain Cook winery cruise, but that was until shark frenzy took a choker hold on Perth City and every redneck who owned a tinny suddenly morphed into a wild-eyed cross between Captain Nemo and Crocodile Dundee.

Another week, another shark death. It was all too much for a town on the verge of CHOGM glory, so the call went out to ‘shoot to kill’ and the race was on to see who would string this monster of the deep up by its murderous tail and bring justice to the land once again.

We’d packed lightly for this trip. An esky full of dark rum, three sheets of blotter acid and enough cocaine to keep the Bolivian Army marching for a year. We also had two high tensile trolling rods baited with whole pig’s heads, 120 litres of sheep blood, a pump action Ruger shotgun, a .45 Colt and an Alaskan pick axe just in case the fight came to close quarters.

We were half way across ‘Stragglers’ when the drugs began to take hold and the shit began to go down. Captain Jack had been busy ladelling bucket-loads of gore into our wake, when suddenly line started screaming off one of the trolling rods, as the water exploded about 100m off the starboard bow.

The whole boat lurched and I spilled most of my rum down Lazlo’s shirt as he scrambled around on deck like a ludicrous, hairy crab trying to find its footing. “Stay still, you fool. You’ll get us all killed carrying on like that.” I pushed him back into his chair and stood back to take stock of the situation.

Line continued to burn off the smoking reel and it was obvious that we’d hooked into something huge and terrifying that would drag us all to our death, boat and all. “There’s only one thing for it, we’ll have to shoot the fucker!” I screamed grappling for the shot gun and taking the steps to the deck three at a time. “Stand back Captain Jack, this one’s mine!”

The crew cowered in the bulk-head fearing the worst as I surveyed the broiling, inky waters before me. Shapes loomed from the deep, bats screeched from the heavens... yes, there are ALWAYS bats... as I took my bead on one evil murderous eye that gleamed from the head of a white pointer bigger than a Kombi Van and now only metres from where I stood. One, two...

‘BARPPPPP!’ The sound caught me like a punch in the face as a fast moving ferry cut across our bow and a single figure leapt gracefully from the deck clutching a spear in one hand and a Swiss Army Knife in the other. In a second the hunt was over and my final moment of glory snatched cruelly from my grasp.

I reached for the rum and chuckled quietly under my breath. “We meet again Freocookster... we meet again.”

When pranks go wrong...

2011-09-30T09:17:00.000+08:00

Listening to a commercial radio station today they were talking about how the condom full of icecream prank at McDonald's Geraldton went so horribly wrong. They asked listeners to share their examples of when seemingly hilarious pranks went wrong.

Now those who know me will understand that I'm a keen prankster who would lie to his own Mum for the chance to get a laugh at someone else's expense. Generally these pranks involve a small white lie that I put right before the whole thing goes pear shaped and the poo hits the proverbial.

But sometimes time gets away from me and I forget the seed I've sown until it blooms into something way beyond a simple joke and threatens the balance of peace in the free world... or in my world at least.

Here's a great case in point...

Back in the 90s I worked at the POST Newspaper group where we put out a half dozen papers covering Melbourne's outer eastern suburbs. At the time I was working as editor of the Whitehorse POST covering the Box Hill area and surrounds, but had until recently edited the Maroondah POST which takes in Ringwood and Croydon.

So, I'm digging through my in-tray one morning and come across a police media alert about two men who had been arrested and charged with grievous bodily harm after assaulting a man at Jooce Nightclub (yep, as bogan as the name sounds).

The report was from a year earlier, but I thought it'd be rib ticklingly funny to white out the dates and change it to the current day, then photocopy it and slide it into my mate Peter's tray who was now editing the Maroondah POST.

Of course, he pulls it out, we have a quick yarn about the story and then I promptly forget all about it and start work on my front page story about poison dim sims in a suburban supermarket (seriously).

Fast forward two days later and the whole office is in a deadline frenzy. I wander past Peter's desk where he's hunkered over his screen with our editor in chief Mal, working on his front page story - both are in a lather to get it right, given it has serious legalities about what can and can't go to print.

That's when the 72pt headline jumps off the screen and rabbit punches me between the eyes: MEN CHARGED WITH JOOCE BASHING

And that's when I had to explain why it would be a very bad idea to run with that story and how very sorry I was to have left them stranded on deadline day without a front page yarn.

I think the C word may have come into play that afternoon.

The upside for Peter was that a few weeks later he convinced me that I'd gone to print with a headline talking about the Mininster for the Farts. Touche!

When has one of your pranks turned around and savaged you in the backside?

A very Gonzo Sexpo Perth 2011

2011-05-29T23:03:00.000+08:00

It's all over for another year, but Sexpo 2011 has been a blast.

But the biggest highlight for me came about through the power of twitter. As the bloke behind the @SexpoPerth twitter account, I spent quite a bit of time interacting with the stars of the show online, so thought I'd do my last tweeting live from the show.

I got a snap of adult film star Katsuni (@Katsuni)in action posing for pics with the punters and tweeted that I'd like to go say hi, but she was obviously too busy. And I didn't want to look like the creepy fanboi Sexpo single guy. There were enough of those already.

Anyway, a couple of minutes later a guy taps me on the shoulder and asks, 'Are you the Sexpo twitter guy?' I give a slightly hesitant, 'um, yeah...' and he tells me Katsuni wants to say hello.

So I go and sit on the couch with Katsuni, we have a nice chat and I get a photo of us on my iPhone and another glossy 10x8 which is now on the office pin-up board... how nice is that? A lovely lady and a French accent to die for.

Sure it's pretty cheesy and I'm fairly certain Mrs Freocookster isn't a big fan of me hanging with porn stars, but it's also kinda cool in a Gonzo kinda way.

Twenty years ago I would have taken the whole shebang down the Gonzo path aka HS Thompson, right from the get-go.

Back then I would have been liquored-up to the eyeballs, thrown Miss Katsuni over my shoulder and stumbled outside to my waiting topless Cadillac Eldorado, waving people away with a giant vibrating black dong.

I would have thrown her in the back, popped the trunk to snatch a handfull of blotter acid and a quart of ether, then pointed the Caddy down Great Eastern Hwy on a course for the Great Sandy Desert... pausing only briefly to swat the bats from my face (with the dong) and pick up my crazed Samoan lawyer.

But of course that was 20 years ago. This time around I smiled for the camera like a creepy fanboi, wished Katsuni a safe flight, got a peck on the cheek and set off home for the Western Suburbs in my Mazda 121 hoping to beat the rain. Gonzo man, pure Gonzo...

Bran Nue Day in Broome

2011-05-11T15:45:00.000+08:00

A short clip I took of Stephen Baamba Albert singing Bran Nue Dae at the North West Expo in Broome last weekend.

Back on the Sexpo bandwagon

2011-05-10T15:13:00.000+08:00

It's hard to believe it's been a full two years since I was handing out pink fluffy handcuffs to the Perth media set to promote the arrival of Sexpo to town.

But indeed, Perth's naughtiest four day event is back from 26-29 May at the Perth Conference and Exhibition Centre. And this year we gave out pink feather boas - far more tasteful!

Today's Inside Cover in The West Australian drew attention to the fact that even Kevin Rudd is following @SexpoPerth on twitter... we're working on Joe Hockey as the opposition representative!

In addition, International ambassador for Sexpo 2011, Michelle ‘Bombshell’

McGee will be sliding between the sheets in a custom-made four-poster bed at Barrack Square on Wednesday, 25 May and she wants Perth couples to join her.

‘Bombshell’ will be looking to set a new record for the most people in one bed at the same time and kick-start the world’s biggest adult lifestyle show.

If you're interested in participating in the bed record attempt you can register by emailing April at april@sexpo.com.au or by direct message on twitter to @SexpoPerth.

Giddy-Up!

Starter Bar Tonight!

2011-01-28T09:21:00.000+08:00

THE STARTER BAR

Starter Bar Tonight at the North Fremantle Bowling Club!

Tonight at The North Freo Bowls, DJ Ipod Sally plays 60s Garage, Psych Pop and 80s indi trash !!!!

Catch an acoustic performance By Michael Gabriel and his Quixotics, featuring his newly written song, 'The Don Walker Blues'.

ALSO The 'New and Improved' Long Strides without the bass player and second guitarist.

When asked what happened, singer songwriter and lead singer Matt Jenkins was posting on his Twitter account: 'There's no room on these tiny stages for my style, cute butt and sexy lips. I had to clear my head and five instruments was too much clutter. My new vision of the music is simple, and I am a slave to that single vision.

'It is a simple chain saw pop song with a thumping rhythm, and tasty morsels of meaty guitar. No bass no extra guitar no fuss!! Hey it's not like I shot them. I just fired their arses. My vocal chords are an instrument of andemic proportion and they needed more space.'

Also playing, the no mess no fuss FAGS will shake it just before their big Day Out Gig, not available for comment at the time of writing....

$5 at the door be early :)

7:30-8:30 IPod Sally 60's tunes
8:30-9:10 Michael Gabriel and The Quixotics
9:30-10:10 The Long Strides
10:30-11:10 The Fags
11:10-I-Pod Sally

More info: Richard Lane 0406 883 709 rbg@hotmail.com

Flood Fundraising Gig

2011-01-21T08:13:00.003+08:00

A great Flood Fundraiser gig at North Fremantle Bowling Club tonight from 4.30 until late!

More than a dozen local bands and musicians will take to two stages, indoors and out, with plenty of other activities to keep people of all ages happy.

Entry: Adults - $10 Kids - free.
Woodfired Pizzas
Jumping Castle until sunset
Free bowls
Heaps of prizes and giveaways, bring your friends and have some fun for charity :)

BOWLING GREEN STAGE
Outdoor (Solo and Duo Acoustic stage)
Also featuring : Casual Compare /Street Poet and Host With The Most Mr Damon Hurst

4.30-5.00 That Velvet Echo
5.00-5.20 Steve Andrews
5.30- 5.50 Michael Gabriel from The Quixotics
6.00 -6.20 James Mittell
6.30- 6.50 Elk
7.00 -7.20 Gabriel Lee (Stillfire)
7.30-7.50 Lachy Banjo (ex Kill Devil Hills)
8.00.-8.20 Fremantle Ukelelle Collective
8.30 9.00 Brown Dog Salloon

INDOOR STAGE
9.10- 9.50 pm The Morning Night
10.10-10.50 pm Salvage Diver
11.10-11.50 pm The Moltens

Hanging at the bowser on tight arse Wednesday

2010-09-17T09:09:00.002+08:00

The fourth Wangle column - click here for the original story.

I worked with an editor in Melbourne for about five years, who apart from wearing socks and sandles had a rather infuriating habit.

Every Wednesday night he’d drive around the foothills of the Dandenong Ranges to find the cheapest petrol, then buy as much as he could while the going was good. I’m talking jerry cans, the works.

Good on him for wanting to save a few dollars to fill up, but what price all the driving around and wear-and-tear on his car?

Let’s not even start about the carbon footprint he was leaving as he stomped around the suburbs in search of that elusive two cent saving.

I’d forgotten about this behaviour until just last week when I pulled into the servo with a flat back tyre and a petrol tank drier than a dead dingo’s proverbial.

I’d left my run to the last gasp and was urging the hail-pocked Mazda onwards to the finish line. If I was a jockey, I’d be using the whip.

But the finish line was blocked. My run had been thwarted by a line of at least 15 cars queuing for petrol.

What in hell’s name was going on here? Were petrol prices about to soar?

As the Mazda farted its empty discontent, it suddenly dawned on me… it was a Wednesday, the cheapest day in the fuel price cycle. These people were lining up as they would do every Wednesday to save themselves a few bob at the bowser.

And indeed it’s true. If you check out the FuelWatch price trend graph, the chart looks like the heart rate of an AFL player who’s been eating the No Doz like Tic Tacs.

But is it worth waiting in line for 30 minutes chewing through the gas to get one over the oil companies? And why does it seem that everyone waits until after 5.00pm to join the line?

Surely the pensioners would be better off buying their petrol during work hours when there’s less traffic and less demand?

When I finally limped up to the bowser, I understood that this was a special club and these people had made the whole tight-arse petrol Wednesday trip into something of a ritual.

People were wandering from car to car for a chat, sharing a joke over a coolant top-up and generally behaving like they were in the crowd at an Andre Riue concert.

One middle aged gent thought a quick buttock grope was in order, while he gathered his betrothed in a ULP embrace. Betrothed? No, not on your nelly. The lucky gropee scampered off shortly after to attend to the diesel pump hanging out of her Patrol.

What was this madness? Had I been consumed by fumes?

Some 40 minutes after first joining that conga-line of price conscious, socially gregarious fuel fanatics, it was time to hit the road.

I looked over to the designated air and water area in hope that I might get a clear run to fill my flaccid Goodyear, but my hopes were cruelly dashed.

From what I could see and hear a bloke called Ted was running a workshop on tyre pressures and the best time of day to achieve the most satisfactory result. I do believe he was even running a tea and coffee service out of his boot.

The point of this rant? The source of my anger? To be honest, I no longer recall.

I’m too busy planning my run for Wednesday arvo and hoping that Ted has some feedback on the best type of lubricant to ease my creaking ball joints.

F*@K OFF! WE'RE FULL (of racists)

2010-09-17T09:05:00.003+08:00

The third of my Wangle columns - click here to visit the original story.

Bumper stickers say a lot about the person who drives the car.

For example, the other day I was wandering back to the car from a family event, enjoying the Sunday sunshine with the kids, when something caught my eye.

It was a bumper sticker on the rear of a blown-out SUV that was half blocking the footpath – a map of Australia with the words printed inside, ‘F*** Off, We’re Full!’

It’s a message we’ve all seen many times and it’s nothing new, but on this day Mr 10 noticed it too. He cocked his head to one side, furrowed his brow, and asked me, “Are people allowed to have the F word on the backs of their cars?”

I responded, “Only very small minded nuff-nuffs son. People who are proud to put their hands up and say I’m a racist – check me out.”

In a flash I’d made an addition to the message thanks to the dust that covered the back window. The message now read, ‘F*** Off We’re Full – of Racist Pricks Like Me!’ If it was your car, I’m sorry. Sorry I didn’t let your tyres down while I was at it.

The saddest thing about this encounter wasn’t having to explain to my son that some people feel threatened by people of non anglo-saxon origin coming to our country. It was knowing that this was a family vehicle and all the occupants, right down to the toddler in the booster seat, would be tainted by this attitude in some way.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m all for free speech. I had a chuckle at a sticker on a ute this morning that read, ‘Cheer up Emo Kids!’ I winced at the ‘I Fish With a Stiff Rod!’ sticker and was bemused as to why you’d advertise the fact that you’re a big Bundy drinker, but I wasn’t offended.

Not so with the ‘FOWF’ sticker. I don’t appreciate my kids having to read this sort of crap on the backs of your cars, on t-shirts, caps or novelty boxer shorts.

Knock yourself out when you’re at your own dinner table or down the pub with your like-minded mates, but sharing the message in public is just dumb. And offensive. What, you think we’re gonna come up and shake your hand, maybe make you PM for a day so you can turn back the boats single-handedly armed with nothing but a pointy white hood?

No, most of us just cringe, shake our heads and hope our kids don’t see it. Peel them off, please.

Digging up the grass

2010-09-17T09:02:00.001+08:00

This is the second of my Wangle posts - click here for the original yarn.

Okay, I opened a can of worms by reintroducing the daylight saving debate, so why not go the double by suggesting we dig up Perth’s front lawn?

I might just point out before you start with the ‘if you don’t like it, leave’ mantra, that I was born in Perth, my parents were born here and so were their parents. We’ve all had close connections with the Swan River throughout our lives and I’d be the first one to say it makes Melbourne’s Yarra seem like a roadside drainage ditch in comparison.

But like many West Australians, I think the city would be a far more appealing place to visit when we have a greater range of amenities along the waterfront. At present we have a Bell Tower, The Lucky Shag and a bloody great big, underutilised front lawn.

Now, the idea of a ferris wheel on the Swan never really floated my ferry, but then it wasn’t really about a ferris wheel was it? It could have been a giant model of a dog poo and still made the same point… the Perth foreshore is boring and is crying out for more than just beer and bells. Hardly anyone ever uses all that ‘beautiful, wide open space’ as I once heard it described.

No, the ferris wheel was all about plonking something large and distracting into an area that is grossly underutilised in order to make people sit up and think, ‘okay, if we’ve got room to install an oversized fairground attraction, maybe we could so something even better in that space?’

You see, us Perthites suffer from a rare and degenerative condition known as ‘Lawnus-idioticus’… in common terms, a desperate need to install large tracts of lawn at the front of our homes that run from the front door to the road and are rarely used except for parking.

Take a run through leafy Floreat or Wembley one day and you’ll get the picture. These days the disease is on the wane, but only because developers are cramming as many dwellings as possible on what were once single home blocks.

So what’s this got to do with Perth City?

Well, just as our suburbs were infected with this disease, so was the city itself. All that parkland stretching from the front door mat of our city, right down to Riverside Drive and beyond, to meet the uninspiring limestone retaining wall on the river’s edge, are our city’s very own front lawn.

Sure, a few office workers wander down there to eat lunch and there’s a few games of softball hosted over the weekend, but tell me, when was the last time you made use of the city’s front lawn? Did you stand there on Australia Day, draped in the Aussie flag, tapping your toes to “You’re the Voice” while you watched the fireworks?

Our city waterfront needs a makeover and I very much hope that plans currently on the table will do our city and the Swan River the justice they deserve after many years of neglect. Sure, we have one of the world’s best views from Kings Park, but it’s only a view. How long can you stand there looking at the Perth city skyline before you think, ‘oh well, back to the suburbs, there’s the lawn to be watered…’

There are plenty of good things happening in the City of Perth and Lisa Scaffidi is a powerful force of change who should be applauded for her work.

But now that the ferris wheel is rolling-on to some other destination in need of a landmark, let’s give up our grass habit, get a bit creative and dig up the front lawn once and for all.

Thanks for nothing folks!

2010-09-17T08:54:00.004+08:00

Apologies for being such a poor correspondent, but of late I've been sharing my ideas, thoughts and feelings with the good people at Wangle.

Here's the first of those posts and you can check out the original story by clicking here.

These dark winter mornings and watching the miserable light fading from my workplace window at 5.00pm of late has put me back into a funk about the fate of daylight saving in Western Australia.

After 11 years enjoying daylight saving while living in Melbourne, I returned to Perth with my young family just in time to see DLS re-introduced and then cruelly snatched back from my grasp three short years later.

Yes Perth, you Indian givers, you have decreed that daylight saving is officially dead in the water in WA for the forseeable future. I now hear there are plans afoot to bring back roster petrol stations.

WA, one hour and 57 years behind the rest of Australia. Would the last person to leave Perth please turn out the lights? Were they ever on?

But it’s okay, this summer I’ll be bringing the kids around when they wake up at 4.45am every day and we’ll have a nice play on your front lawn. At about the same time that every species of bird gathers outside my bedroom window for a good chat about how dandy it is to see the sun up so early.

All I wanted was a bit of time in the afternoons to get out of the house with the kids when I came home from work… maybe a barbie, go to the beach, or kick the footy. But no, you lot wouldn’t have that.

According to you, normal people should be eating dinner by 5.30pm and tucked up in bed with Fat Cat before the hour reaches double digits.

I’m mad as hell. While you early morning dog walkers, tradies and sports enthusiasts are no doubt salivating about the prospect of blazing sunlight at 5.00am, think about those of us with small children who have no good use of the morning hours.

Thanks for nothing folks and keep an eye out for me this summer – I’ll be the one driving around honking his horn at the first sign of daylight, making sure you ‘NO’ voters really are awake to enjoy this most ‘precious’ time of the day.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty to love about living in Perth. It was my decision to return from Melbourne and choose this city as the place to raise my kids, but do we really have to endure this ‘if it aint broke, don’t fix it’ mentality forever?

Fair suck of the sauce bottle people!

A WAAPA of a night at Crackerjack's

2010-05-10T15:18:00.003+08:00

The North Fremantle Centre's Crackerjack’s Comedy Club will be awash with guffaws and a cacaphony of chortling as it plays host to an evening of comedy from the WA Academy of Performing Arts (WAAPA).

WAAPA's third year actors will be putting their improvisational skills to the test on Saturday 22 May with their inaugural 'Impro Comedy Night'.

The 17 young actors, hailing from all over Australia and all graduating later this year, will provide the audience with a unique opportunity to see Australia’s stars of tomorrow before they take off to pursue their artistic careers in Australia and overseas.

Leading local comedian and 2009 National Theatre Sports Champion, Glenn Hall, has been working with the students this year on the skills and secrets of improvised comedy.

And this is what they promise...

The actors, inspired by suggestions from the audience and facilitated by Glenn, will create incredible characters and perform outrageous sketches with only seconds to prepare and with hilarious outcomes!

The laughter is, of course, for a cause. The students are fundraising towards the production of a DVD demonstrating their film acting to be used as an example of their finely honed craft and talents when seeking employment in the entertainment industry.

So get a gang together, come on down and join in the fun, laugh a lot and prepare to be impressed – very impressed!

Tickets can be purchased on the door and Crackerjack’s can be found between Thompson Rd and Stirling Hwy in North Fremantle. If you reach the Swan River you've gone too far. And you'll be wet.

Ronald McDonald House search begins

2010-05-10T14:57:00.002+08:00

Nationwide search for the faces of Ronald McDonald House begins
Help connect the House with people from the past

Ronald McDonald House (RMH) Perth has launched a national search for people whose lives have been touched by its work providing Western Australian families with a place to stay while their children receive treatment for a serious illness.

In its 20th Birthday year, the charity is seeking to contact as many as possible of the 3,000 families who have called RMH home at some stage since its inception in 1990. The house would also love to hear from the countless staff and volunteers who have contributed to making the house a home for so many people over the years.

Their stories – from the heartbreakingly sad to the joyously happy - will be recorded for a visual history of RMH as part of its Birthday celebrations in November this year.

Executive Officer Alison Salmond said thousands of people from all walks of life had experienced the unique love and support provided by RMH over the past two decades and they could now be living anywhere in Australia.

“We are putting the call out to the community to help us find the children and families we have known over the years,” she said.

“We want to know what the families are doing now and what it meant to have a place like RMH to stay during the days and months while their child was undergoing gruelling treatment.

“We also want to get back in touch with the staff and volunteers who have cooked, cleaned, provided fun and entertainment, and, most importantly, been a shoulder to cry on when families have found life to be extraordinarily tough and unpredictable.”

Ms Salmond said bringing together 20 years of personal stories will be a huge task, “but challenges are nothing new to RMH”.

“We have jumped over some pretty big hurdles over the years and resilience is definitely one of our hallmarks,” she said.

Should you be able to help the House in their mission to reunite the faces of the House, please contact Kellie Hanna at Ronald McDonald House Perth on 08 9346 9002 or kellie@rmhwa.com.au by Monday 31 May.

NewsMaker - Shhhh….Let's hush to help homeless Australians

2010-04-21T11:50:00.001+08:00

NewsMaker - Shhhh….Let's hush to help homeless Australians

A Kick-Ass success, or just bad taste?

2010-04-09T09:45:00.007+08:00

It would seem that director MATTHEW VAUGHN's latest film Kick-Ass has polarised the community thanks to a foul mouthed, ultra violent (but very cute!) 11-year-old character, Hit Girl (CHLOE GRACE MORTEZ).

Thanks to Universal Pictures, I was able to organise two screenings for the Perth Twitter Community via the Perth Twitter Underground Brigade (@PTUB) and judging from the tweets that came flying back faster than a Hit Girl throwing star, young Chloe was the genuine star of the film.

Indeed, 'when I grow up I wanna be Hit Girl' was a comment I saw time and time again. You can check out the online chatter yourself here.

Last night on ABC TV's At The Movies, David Stratton made all the right noises about Kick-Ass in the first half of his review, but choked on the (throwing?) star rating when it came to the Hit Girl stumbling block:

"The screenplay has some sharp comments to make about the meaning of heroics, and MATTHEW VAUGHN, who started out working with Guy Ritchie and who previously made LAYER CAKE and STARDUST, handles it all with confidence. But you have to keep reminding yourself that it's 'only a movie' every time Hit Girl does her stuff- mega-violent action scenes of multiple killings obviously inspired by the early films of John Woo, starring CHOW YUN FAT (Woo is specifically referenced in the dialogue). These scenes are deliberately over-the-top and incredibly violent and the fact that an 11-year-old is doing the killing - shooting and stabbing bad guys - all of whom die very bloodily - will be understandably concerning for many." (from the At The Movies website)

If you haven't seen it already, check out what it without doubt one of the most entertaining exchanges between David and Margaret in some time. David: 'Can I just say something?' Margaret: 'No'.

Judging from the comments on the At The Movies web page, people are split into two camps - those horrified to see an on-screen depiction of an 11-year-old girl dropping the 'C' bomb and taking off baddies' heads with a machete, and those who see it as one of the most refreshingly stylised superhero films to come out of the US in many years.

Make no mistake, I'm a father of three and I have no desire to see my five-year-old princess grow up to blow the backs out of people's heads with a high calibre glock. But nor am I going to take her out to an urban wasteland to fire rounds into her bullet proof vest protected chest to acclimatise her to what might happen when she's mugged by junkies and pimps, aka NICOLAS CAGE who plays her father and fellow superhero, Big Daddy.

But this is an adaptation of a COMIC BOOK. Complete fantasy. It's a vehicle for delivering an outrageously funny superhero flick using characters and scenarios that challenge - no, DEMAND us - to see things in a different light.

Indeed, while some would say that embracing a blood drenched film that uses an 11-year-old girl as a central character is a sign of how desensitised we are as a community, I'd argue the opposite.

Once you scrape away the gore and think about this film for what it really is - a comic book fantasy - I think Kick-Ass actually asks the question why is one form of violence more acceptable than another? Does it really matter if a Rastafarian drug lord is disemboweled by a cute 11-year-old masked girl, or shot through the temple by a rogue middle aged cop?

Park your conservatism at the candy bar, grease-up the bazooka and strap yourself in for some rollicking Kick-Ass superhero fun. Just leave your little princess at home :)

Talking about twitter with the AIM

2010-02-24T14:46:00.001+08:00

Random Top 10 Twitter Twips

2010-02-09T12:20:00.004+08:00

Someone asked me to put together what must be one of the 38 million lists of top ten tips for Twitter that exist in the ether... so I did.

Keep in mind that this is a list of tips for people in the communications game, but I think some of the points are fairly unanimously accepted across the twitterverse.

Main point being, don't spam my assss, or you will be doomed to #Fail.

@freocookster presents the Top 10 Twitter Twips:

1. The first step on the path to having any influence on twitter is to build a strong network of followers and to interact with this group on a regular basis.

2. Don't soil your twitter nest by rushing in with the hard sell and posting up links to your latest press release - you will only confirm your status as a spam merchant.

3. Be interesting and in turn show interest in what others in your network are saying - re-tweet and share information on a regular basis.

4. Don't be tempted to follow everyone in the twitterverse in a quick fix attempt to build your network - befriending random strangers doesn't work in real life and it won't work online.

5. Be patient, remain engaging and the right people will follow you in time.

6. You don't have to follow everyone who follows you, and be super wary of opening links preceded by comments like, "Hey, I saw this pic of you and thought you should see it!"

7. It's okay to be a brand advocate and to share an opinion or response, but refrain from turning yourself into an online ad - it's boring and unlikely to have any cut through anyway.

8. If you want your followers to engage with your brand - or your client's brand - do it in a fun way that makes it a tangible experience for all. Free stuff is always good!

9. If you are in the communications industry, always be up-front about representing your client's interest and be careful about the battles you pick.

10. Remember, without a good network of followers who you engage with on a regular basis, your tweets will fall on deaf ears... be a part of the conversation!

*Thanks to Dom O'Leary for the birdie pic :)

The dead eye opens...

2009-11-27T13:05:00.003+08:00

This just in from the Melbourne Desk. Your correspondent is B Hawe, keen observer of the human form, Harley Davidson mechanic, stockbroker and purveyor of fine 'erb... mon.

It was a hot and muggy day in Melbourne yesterday and storms were forecast for the afternoon - on these days I leave the bike at home and take the tram - very civilised, tram commuting.

As it turned out, 2.30pm brought the biggest downpour we have seen in 6 years or something. It was like Brisbane weather in December - hot and steamy.

There I am on the tram at the end of what I wished was going to be a busy day, but was an absolute dud. I sat down opposite a bloke who looked very very unusual. When you're sitting 2 feet away from someone opposite, it's hard to really examine their face in detail, you sort catch glimpses when you can. This poor bastard had had some kind of surgery and it was a pretty good job. But it wasn't perfect. If it were perfect, I wouldn't have noticed anything unusual, but there it was, a scar that circumnavigated his eye socket. It was hard to look at but, like the train wreck, it was hard not to look at.

Unfortunately, to add to his disfigurement, he was not what you would call the most attractive old bugger that you can imagine. He was a bit like Homer Simpson's father, but an uglier version. I tried to draw a sketch of him (attached), but even with my excellent portrait skills, it doesn't do him justice. Have a look anyway. This chap had a face like a smashed crab, he sat with his knees straight out in front of him - how annoying is it when you're on a tram and the person opposite makes no attempt to give you any room. As a result, his knees kept knocking into mine. I moved mine out to the side. It was like they were magnets...attracting each other...knock knock bump touch. Instantly I thought this is just my luck that he'll be on the tram until my stop or a couple before...that drives me nuts. An annoying fellow traveller, you can't wait to get off and they stay on until about your stop. That's NOT civilised. Whenever he wanted to look at something outside the tram, he almost had to turn his whole body. Unusual, but not uncommon.

Did I mention it was hot and sticky? Well it was. Many people fall asleep on public transport here - I'm sure it's the same everywhere. The curious thing is that this chap was no different from us all, even trapped in that disfigured face of his...God I wish I could stop glancing at his mug. He was falling asleep too. It must've been a hard day at the ugly stick factory - I assume he was a tester. I should give thanks that he had no BO as many chaps and chapettes do on days like yesterday. Anyway, he began his impersonation of the nodding dog we have on the back bench of our Valiant and duly started to nod off to sleep.

This is where it gets really unusual. You see he half nodded off. Can you do that? I hear you ask. Yes you can. When you have had what appeared to be a fairly major operation on your looking-gear, chances are that the old eye was no longer of any use. He had a glass replacement. The glass one did NOT fall asleep. That's right, he was asleep with one eye open, it was sort of funny, sort of disgusting, sort of cool. He could, in theory, keep an eye on his wallet and catch up on some shut-eye (not shut-eyes) at the same time. The only thing missing from the whole picture was some drool out of the side of his mouth.

The old saying about talking a glass eye to sleep now hold true and relevant meaning for me.

He then got off.

Media140 comes to Perth

2009-11-18T17:12:00.003+08:00

Media 140: Perth 25th Feb 2010

Social Media in the Corporate World: The Impact of the Real Time Web on 'Brand, Marketing & Communications'

Buy your earlybird tickets now here.

From just $187 for the full day conference and networking events.

Originating in London Media140, an international conference phenomenon is travelling around the world in 140 days and hits Sydney in November 2009 and Perth in February 2010.

This innovative conference will bring together a host of prominent and influential speakers to discuss, explore and examine the effects and implications of the real-time web.

For more information click here.

Partners include The West, PPR, CCIWA, AWIA, Networking WA and more.

For sponsorship/speaker/partnership information please contact
rebecca@networkingwa.com.au or @perth140

This conference is for you if you are in the following fields:

-Marketing
-Brand
-Communication
-Online Marketing
-Web
-PR
-Journalism
-Media

or if you simply have an interest in Social Media and the implications for Corporate business and beyond!

Follow the team on twitter
@perth140 @media140
#media140

As a sponsor, PPR will be right in the thick of things, so be sure to follow us on twitter as well for live updates:

@Freocookster @PPRwa

An open letter of thanks

2009-11-13T08:53:00.004+08:00

One of the most rewarding aspects of my role in providing public relations services for McDonald's, is the opportunity to promote the work of Ronald McDonald House.

Over the past decade I've worked with some amazing people across Victoria, Tasmania and now Western Australia and have come across some of the bravest families you could ever hope to meet.

I think the letter we received this week (see below) really puts into perspective just how critical the role of Ronald McDonald House is in providing a home away from home for families who are facing what is potentially the most challenging period of their lives.

Please take the time to read this through and then think about what you can do tomorrow on McHappy Day, Saturday 14 November, to make a difference.

Dear Mr Creasey,

On Saturday night myself and my partner Clayton had the wonderful pleasure of attending the Ronald McDonald House Charity Ball.

Clayton, myself and another family "The Rossi's" Jason and Laura were invited as guests of the Cerebos Group who provided us with tickets. This was arranged through the Ronald McDonald House as ourselves and the Rossi's have for a while called The House "home" over the last year or two.

This time last year Clayton and I were two very tired and scared parents dealing with having a new born son who was battling a cancer called Nueroblastoma. We had already been in Perth for a month before Eddie's birth in August 08 as doctors were suspicious of a lump that was previously believed to be cyst.

We were down from Port Hedland having our last holiday before becoming parents when life changed suddenly and completely unexpectedly.

As the lump was growing we were advised not to leave the metro area and we had to make do with our suitcase of clothes until Clayton could return to Hedland to get all the things we had up there for the birth of our baby. Eddie was born on the seventh of August and was taken to Princess Margaret the following day by infant ambulance and placed in Neo Natal intensive care. We were totally unprepared for this turn of events as doctors were positive that once born, the "lump" would not be a problem.

Unfortunately the lump was so large it had pushed Eddie's stomach shut and he was unable to ingest anything at all. After a few days of endless talks with doctors and surgeons an oncologist visited us with the news that she had heard about Eddie and would like to review him as she was certain that he might have a cancer called Neuroblastoma.

Her suspicions were correct and after many tests and meetings Eddie was scheduled for surgery with the hope that the tumour could be removed. Removal was successful but following surgery the cancer spread to Eddie's liver causing many complications and the only alternative was chemotherapy, a path both us and our oncologist had hope to avoid.

So at seven weeks of age, Eddie began treatment and we moved into the Ronald McDonald House.

I cannot stress enough the role The House played in us dealing with such an emotional time. There are many words you can use to explain how you feel when you watch your child fight the battle of his life. Tired, lonely, scared and dealing with the feeling of our lack of control over his health, we were overcome with gratitude and emotion at being welcomed into the house with open arms by the staff and other parents.

We were already exhausted from the ordeal of the last two and a half months, a fact noticed by our social worker who told us to accept some help and get ourselves to the House as we had been living out of suitcases at the hospital for weeks.

The friendships formed and the tears shared at the House all help with the healing you need as a parent. There is nothing like the joy of celebrating with other parents when they receive good news and nothing like sharing a hug when it is bad.

Fortunately at five months of age, Eddie was deemed fit and well to finally go home. There were tears of joy and tears of sadness at leaving the House and the friends we had made, many of whom are now at home with their healthy children.

We still use the house a lot as Eddie will have a follow up program until he is 18 and it is a joy to know that when we fly down to Perth and you are coiled up inside with the fear of a bad test result that at least you have the sanctuary of the house for your time down there.

It is on that note that I would like to thank everyone involved with the ball from the bottom of my heart for the wonderful job done on Saturday night. I was truly overwhelmed sitting at our table watching people bid way over the value on the auction items. Both Laura and I got a little teary knowing that the huge part the House plays in our lives was made possible by the generosity of these people.

One of the most amazing experiences of our cancer journey with Eddie was coming face to face with some of the most giving, amazing, compassionate people we have ever had the pleasure of being involved with, and Saturday night reminded us that Perth and Western Australia is filled with the most amazing giving people.

You guys should be proud of yourselves for showcasing that(and that huge $700,000 raised).

So now we are back in Hedland boasting to our friends about our glamorous night on the Silk Road with the divine food and of course that fantastic band. And I would like to say on behalf of any family who has ever had the experience of the sanctuary provided by the Ronald McDonald House a big thank you and all the best for next year's ball.

Yours Sincerely
Dannielle Aggiss

The Rottnest Island experience

2009-11-05T21:04:00.001+08:00

Rottnest Island isn't the most scenic holiday location on earth. The accommodation is a bit rough around the edges, food prices are steep, there are poisonous snakes in the sand dunes and quokka shit sprinkled liberally across all walking surfaces.

Have I put you off? Good, cause to be honest it's my favourite place on the planet and I'd rather keep it to myself. You can have your lush rainforest resorts, or drink cocktails out of two litre buckets in Bali and I'll have my Rotto.

So it was with great pleasure that I spent the last two weeks on the great southern island with Mrs Cookster and the young Cookster clan aged 2, 3 and 10. Having spent much of my childhood on Rotto, marking such memorable occasions as learning to ride my bike and getting drunk for the first time, it was a visit filled with much misty-eyed nostalgia.

In a case of life turning the full circle, I was able to watch my own son come to grips with a bike in almost the exact spot that I had some 35 years earlier. Back then the road on the Bathurst end of Thompson Bay was shaded by Bungalow 5 where our family would spend two weeks every January.

My Nanna Flora was the ruler of that rickety bungalow and in charge of duties including the shooing of rogue quokkas with the broom, boiling the water for the nightly 'bucket baths', preparing the freshly caught herring and procuring the fabled bakery cream buns.

My Grandad Len would work with Dad to set up our illegal 'hose and shower head' set-up in the back courtyard so the adults could take an illicit shower without having to line up and pay for a wash at the shower blocks.

This recent visit gave me time to reflect on those happy days and bring my Nanna back to the island for one last time. Our family gathered on the rocks beneath the Bathurst Lighthouse and scattered her ashes into the waters at Pinkies Beach where she would swim every morning in her powder blue bathing suit and matching swimming cap. Enjoy the stay Nanna, we'll be keeping the tradition alive.

That night I dreamt I was nine years old, lying on my cot on the verandah of bungalow 5, smelling the scent of Rottnest Pines and salt lake foam, reading war comics and rubbing my sandy feet on the RIB army blankets at the foot of the bed.

The next day we learned that a young boy had been killed by a collapsed pillar in a unit not far from where the now demolished bungalow 5 once stood. It was an awful feeling that such a tragedy should take place on an island that's supposed to be about creating treasured family memories.

With sentimentality running high, I texted some rather flowery prose in praise of the great island to fellow Rottnest lover, POST Newspaper journalist, union heavyweight and purveyor of smoked herring David 'Fucking Outrage' Cohen.

Of course, he bought me back down to earth by calling me a "wanker" on his cult blogsite Rotto Bloggo.

So in closing, I shall return the favour DC - wanker - and start dreaming of next October when I'll once again tread the sandy shores of Little Parakeet Bay and wallow in its crystal clear waters.

PR & social media - time to get jiggy with it

2009-10-05T12:52:00.001+08:00

I was talking with someone this week about the plethora of social media 'experts' that have cropped up like new season mushrooms over the past 18 months and we got on to the subject of where PR fitted in to the scheme of things.

As PR people we are not necessarily tech-savvy. We have IT people to fix our computers and keep us humming along on 'teh interwebz'. We hang about on the geek fringe, dabbling in social networking... or do we more than dabble?

As a blogger for the past five years I've been around the online community for quite some time and would consider myself to be something of an early adopter in that realm.

That being the case, recognising the obvious benefits that social media could bring to my client communication strategies wasn't exactly a huge leap. If I'm online talking about stuff, then surely there are people out there talking about my clients' stuff that I should know about. And if they're not talking about my clients' stuff, then maybe they should be?

That's where some of those PR skills are handy in sorting out the wheat from the chaff. But it's a double edged sword *damn, I should stop with the analogies already!*

Ahem, anyway, as a PR professional my job is to develop clever communication strategies and execute them in a manner to generate as much positive publicity for the client as possible. It's all about the content and the execution.

It's the same with social media strategy. Good content is critical, BUT and it's a huge BUT, the execution is even more critical. It's one thing to pump out a word doc via email to your media lists and follow up with the schmooze, but that just ain't gonna cut the iSnack 2.0 sangers on the interwebz.

What us PR people have had to embrace in a massive way is the idea that we are now communicating with the public directly. Hello, I'm doing it right now! Sure, we still rely heavily on our dear friends in the media to act as the disseminators through traditional media outlets, but we're also coming to you live straight down that copper pipe and into ur 'puters at home.

This is where the big but comes into play. Okay, you're a PR professional kicking huge goals in the traditional sense - column cms coming out of the wahzoo - and then your client says 'let's get jiggy with it on twitter... can you deliver?'

Then you have to ask yourself, 'can I?' Do you have a twitter profile? Do you tweet often? Have you been networking and building your list of followers? Are you sitting there asking 'WTF is he talking about?'

Think of it this way, how important are your media contacts in the PR game as you move through the years and build those links? Bloody important. It's what sets you apart from a PR newby.

The social media arena is no different, if you don't have the contacts, you're not being taken seriously. That point is quite obvious on twitter - if you don't have a good list of followers, you're talking to no one. Sure, Mrs Kutcher and K Rudd will add you to their list, but are they really going to join in the chat about a new burger or pie you're trying to launch?

Don't miss the boat... just sayin'. But just as important, don't suddenly come trampling into the social media space slinging media releases about left right and centre because that'll end in tears. Remember, you're trying to generate a conversation - spamming will win you no friends... trust me, I've been there, but I'm back.

Take the time to develop your contacts and win their trust. Listen to what the tweeps are saying, share ideas and don't just bang on about your clients all the time. Make them WANT to read what you've got to say.

Please excuse any typos, I'm in the middle of organising a tweet-up in Perth to launch Mrs Mac's new Tex Mex pie. Those Perth tweeps just love a pie and a pint :)

The birds are back in town

2009-09-18T10:48:00.002+08:00

I was awake at 4.30am this morning. There was a dull glow - a hint of dawn - tapping at my bedroom blinds and then it hit me... this is only going to get MUCH worse as we march into Summer and there is NO daylight saving to come to my rescue.

But it wasn't the light that woke me today. No, it was the early morning cacophony of our native bird life that dragged me from slumber.

First it was the dreadful warbling of the two million magpies that hang out in the adjacent golf course. Excuse the French, but what the fuck are they shouting about? 'Hey, this is my tree - youse can all fuck off and find your own.' 'Hey Frank, there's a baby dugite crossing the 18th fairway that's got our name on it.' 'Man, any of you dudes spot me some worms till my pension check comes in on Wednesday?'

I mean seriously, why at the mere hint of dawn do these noisy bastards have to start up with all the warbling? No wonder koalas are so freakin' grumpy all the time and wombats bury themselves 15ft underground - it's the maggies.

Of course, not long after the maggies start up you get the mother of all noisy bastard birds, the Victorian kookaburra getting in on the act. Throw in a couple of crows having a stoush over the contents of a discarded KFC box and you have a regular fucking orchestra in play.

I don't mind the sound of birds during the day - it's restful. And I get the fact that for some reason they are genetically wired to shout at each other first thing in the morning, but that's why daylight saving was so very, very handy.

As we move into summer, the sun is going to rise progressively earlier and with an increasing level of intensity. Back in 2005 I remember waking at 4.45am one morning thinking I'd slept in. That summer the kids were all awake no later than 5.30am.

For the last three summers the kids have been in bed by 8.30pm - no issues with late sun - and been up at the reasonable hour of 7am. But no longer.

So I'm thinking of making a statement. I'm looking to track down an old Mr Whippy van and when the magpies start their early morning warble, I'm gonna fire that sucker up and hit the streets where the 'NO' DLS voters live and MAKE SURE they're awake to appreciate their glorious early morning light.

And instead of Green Sleeves, I might instead opt for a bit of Enter Sandman or Good Morning Sunshine. Maybe the Pixies doing Gouge Away. I'd be keen to hear your suggestions?

The world of Socialnomics

2009-08-19T21:35:00.000+08:00

This video sorta makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck.

There's no doubt that social media / networking is THE new way of communicating and engaging with the world around us, but some people really do still see it as some kind of fad. If that's you, then watch this video and give yourself a short reality check.

Hell, I never saw a computer until I was about 14 and that had a room to itself that could have housed a small family. I watched black and white TV until grade seven and thought Space Invaders was about as far as technology could possibly ever go. Hah, my first computer was a Commodore 64 - 64kbs, about as powerful as a calculator!

My point is, this change is happening and for people in the communications game it represents a whole new ball game. This beast is galloping along at a powerful pace and I reckon we all need to hang on tight and get ready for the ride of our lives.

Guess who's coming to dinner?

2009-08-16T23:35:00.000+08:00

The West Magazine is running a competition asking people to name the five people they'd most like to invite to dinner and why.

Most of the celebrity responses in Saturday's mag were fairly pedestrian, but of course Luke Steele was suitably off-centre, listing Brobee from Yo Gabba Gabba, Al Green, Jane Fonda as Barbarella, James Stewart and Elvis Presley.

I think limiting the number to five is a bit harsh and points off to those who chose to list their partners in the mix - that's gotta be a given doesn't it? And besides, we want to hear about the people who interest you, not about how much you wuv your wife!

So off the top of my head, here's my list. Is there any way to avoid looking like a pretentious arse? I think not...

Hunter S Thompson: Okay, okay, I can hear the cries of wanker ringing out, but imagine the party favours he would bring to the table. And when it all gets too much we could simply dip into the ether supply.

Paul Keating: to remind us of a time when Australian politicians had some clout and could fire off a clever retort like a whip crack.

Carl Hiaasen: A ferociously funny environmental evangelist who writes about the rape and pillage mentality of land developers in Florida. I'd like to see him turn up as his alter ego - the character Skink who has a glass eye and stalks the everglades wearing a shower cap.

Robert G Barrett: author of the Les Norton series of novels that are absolutely compelling, despite being devoid of any literary merit whatsoever. Ideally we'd meet over schnitzels and ice cold Emundi Lagers at the Hakoa Club in downtown Bondi... ah, you wouldn't be dead for quids.

Melanie Safka: the voice that beguiled me back in the 80s when I thought my black suede winkle picker boots were way groovy and Melanie was singing just for me. I reckon both HST and Bob Barrett will have slapped faces before the night is through.

Okay, this was compiled without a huge amount of through and I fear the gender balance is somewhat lopsided, but you get the idea - your fab five???

Club O update

2009-08-16T21:39:00.001+08:00

This Friday, 21 August sees another stellar line-up of original bands set to blow the roof off the North Fremantle Centre.

Club O - O for original - is barely a month old and has already cemented itself as a 'must go' Friday night gig for lovers of live original music from across Perth.

This Friday night you can catch:
- Traffic Stoppers
- The Hectics
- Leon Ewing
- Brown Dog Saloon
- The Shambles

Doors open from 7.30pm and the entry fee is $5. Club O memberships can be bought at the bar... Cookster Senior will sort you out.

You can follow the NFC on twitter by clicking here.

Banging the drum

2009-08-06T21:54:00.000+08:00

It's winter. It's cold, it's raining, the bowling greens are soggy and it's hardly the weather to prompt the desire for a cold ale. So what to do if you're heading down to The North Fremantle Centre this month?

Well, I'd suggest you grab an African drum and beat it to within an inch of its life!

On Sunday, 30 August, the NFC is hosting an 'African Drum 'n' Dance' workshop with Master Drummer Tuza and The Salaka Ensemble, on tour in Australia for just the second time.

There's a session for beginners and advanced drummers and African dancing for people of all levels.

If you can't make it to the NFC in August, there's another workshop taking place in O'Connor in September - click on the image for all the contact details.

PPOP culture - say no to pokies

2009-07-27T20:44:00.000+08:00

Don't worry about the swine flu people, there is something far more insidious heading this way from the eastern states if what we're hearing has an ounce of truth - the cursed pokie machine.

I'm not sure about the business agenda of the Bendat boy and his claims that Coles and Woolworths are bringing pokie machines to Perth, but if he's got the cojones to take them on and stop this scourge in its tracks, all power to him.

I'm no wowser and to be honest, I couldn't give a fat rat's clacker if people want to pour their hard-earned into a machine to get their thrills - each to their own.

But be warned. The Sunday outing to Burswood for Nanna to spend a nice day at the Caz and come home with change from a twenty, this is not. Nor is it the odd flutter when you're tanked just for a laugh. No, this the very thin end of a very fat and intrusive wedge.

After living in Melbourne for 10 years the pokies lose the 'harmless fun' sheen very quickly. You don't have to go very far to find row after row of gormless people of all ages sitting dull eyed in front of their 'favourite' machines, feeding coins into slots and punching flashing buttons like robots in a car assembly line. Grandmas have been clubbed to death to feed pokie addictions.

Yeah, it's a happening scene alright. But what really shits me about pokies is what they do to the local pub. In essence, a pub full of pokies is about as much fun as having a cyst taken out of your eyeball. And let's be honest, the pub scene in Perth is already dire enough. Adding pokies would be like an ice pick frontal lobotomy on a patient already struggling for signs of life.

Can you imagine popping down to your local for a quiet ale and a yarn, only to be confronted by a hideous wall of machines that compete with each other for your dollar by sporting the most garish, fit-inducing bells and whistles possible?

We're not talking that romantic vision of the old 'one armed bandit' where you pull the lever and watch the pop-art style cherries and diamonds spin frantically to stop in a shower of golden coins at your feet. No, we're talking electronic boxes covered in terrible artwork that will swallow your money in whatever form (notes as well as coins) as quickly as you care to feed them.

The issue was discussed today on the NOVA 937 breakfast show and there was talk of why wouldn't you have these in your pub if they generate income? We could offer cheaper food and drink and the punters would love that - wouldn't they?

My response? Would you go and eat a $10 chicken parma and pint in the public crappers at Kings Park just because it's a bargain? How about $5 bangers and mash in the emergency department at Charlie's?

It's all about A.T.M.O.S.P.H.E.R.E and a pub full of pokies has foregone that right for the sake of chasing a dollar. Live bands, quiz nights, great food? Nah, who needs that sort of time consuming nonsense when you can just plug a machine into a wall and let it do its thang.

Don't get me wrong, Melbourne still has a pub scene that is second to none, but once you push further from the CBD and the choice that precinct offers, the scourge of pokies is more entrenched.

And don't be fooled by any promise that gambling areas would be separated from the main drinking / dining areas. Pokies are dangled in front of punters shamelessly - you can even get free tea and coffee if you've got a pocket fat with coin.

No. It's time for Perth People Over Pokies (PPOP) to take a stand and keep these soul destroying vermin from making their way across the Nullabor to breed with their buddies at Burswood.

Make your mark on the pokie poll to the right, share this link and stay tuned for the facebook page.

Club-O comes to North Fremantle

2009-07-17T11:39:00.003+08:00

The music scene at the North Fremantle Centre just keeps getting better, with tonight seeing the launch of regular Friday night gigs at Club-O... 'O' for original.

Tonight's line-up kicks off at 7.30pm, featuring The Hectics, Traffic Stoppers, Slow Coach and The Shambles.

It's just $5 to get in and stay watching this space because we'll soon have some free Club-O memberships to give away.

In the meantime, don't forget to follow the North Fremantle Centre on twitter at http://www.twitter.com/NorthFreoCentre

Check out the facebook group as well :)

Doesn't really do it for me...

2009-07-16T23:11:00.001+08:00

I hadn't been to a Sizzler in years, but on a wet Thursday night during the school holidays, with much prompting of the three Cookster Kids, it was time to pack up the people mover and head off to the Innaloo multiplex.

Hell, I've been hearing that guy banging on for months about how it "does it for me" so maybe I've been missing something?

It's always an odd concept waiting in line for an experience that you know is probably only going to be satisfactory at best, but wait we did. And peruse the options along the way - the cheapo salad bar experience only; salad bar with extras; or salad bar plus a plated main meal of either steak, ribs, or fried seafood.

When we get to the head of the line I opt for the barbecue ribs, Mrs Cookster the steak, the nine-year-old boy a smiley faced cheeseburger, and the other kids the salad bar (ie, spag bol and soft serve ice cream).

"Chips or mash with those meals?" We opt for chips, a standard pub grub fare that most large volume restaurants tend to get right. Right?

Next it was drinks, you do everything straight-up before you're seated at Sizzler, including drink orders. There was a big Perspex tub attached to the front counter filled with ice and their own-brand wine, so I've fished one out and said, "we'll have this too. Do I take one of these?"

"That's okay sir, I'll get you a fresh bottle from the fridge." Feeling a bit like Withnail in the cake shop I suddenly realise that it's a display. But why the ice?

"We only have chilled champagne glasses left, no wine glasses, is that okay sir?"

I agreed, although I wondered why bother to chill wine glasses at all? It's one of those folksy things I guess that creates a veneer of 'class', albeit in a suburban doesn't make any sense kinda way. I was going to mention that wine is best drunk out of a broader, deeper vessel, but then a kid screamed and threw spaghetti at his brother and I remembered where I was.

We get to the table and I decide a liberal dose of plonk is required to set the ambiance, immediately. It was then that I realised my champagne glass was covered in more than just frost - it had at least three sets of lip prints (very faded) and some other detrius attached. Mrs Cookster's glass had "chunks" on it she said, so the baby wipes came out and all that good work in the chiller was lost.

Cheesy toat was next. I seem to recall liking this once, but white bread lathered with a cheesy, butter spread and grilled on one side no longer does it for me. Pass.

To give credit where credit is due, the Sizzler salad bar was far better than my last visit and the Perspex sneeze guards quite reassuringly sturdy. I chose a selection of crisp assorted salad leaves; some Herdsman Fresh-style dolmades; pedestrian coleslaw and potato salad; cubes of beetroot and; Asian beef salad. It was all quite decent and makes the $21 salad bar deal pretty good value for money. Just leave the beef salad alone - I haven't had beef of that texture in my mouth before and don't want to again.

The younger kids both had a plate of passable spaghetti bolognaise. The pasta was al dente and the sauce quite meaty, but it needed a bit more tomato in the mix to give it a traditional bolognaise flavour. Like everyone else in Australia, the Cookster is an expert on spag bol.

The finicky older boy got his open-top cheeseburger with a smiley face made out of sauce on the meat patty. But while blobs for eyes were okay, the sauce mouth was something of a grimace, a sneer if you like - I think he'd spied the chips that had just arrived with my ribs.

Now chips aren't that hard to bugger up, even if they're mass produced fare that's cooked in oil that might have seen better days. You fry them, salt them and serve them HOT. Unfortunately my chips had been plated at least three days before they were introduced to the ribs and I could find no signs of life whatsoever. DOA.

Okay, I exaggerate. Maybe they'd been put on the plate 15 minutes before the ribs, but 15 minutes or three days who cares? They were cold, the fat had congealed and they were entirely inedible. You know those chips you find down the side of your seat when you vacuum the car? You get the picture. I would have sent them back, but that'd be like sending back your chips at a fast food place - you take your chances.

The positive side was that the ribs were tender, of generous size and covered in a sweet, smokey sauce that was quite enjoyable. Mrs Cookster's steak looked the goods as well. Given the abundance of salads, the chips weren't really missed, but it was a sore point all the same.

Desserts? Well, bowls full of soft serve, some pretty good chocolate mousse and lots of sugar-laden sprinkly bits that have the kiddies squealing with delight.

And squeal they do. Atmosphere-wise it's a bit like dining out at childcare centre where all the kids are fed sugar sachets and red cordial. This is not the place for romance, but handy if you're ducking in to catch a flick at the adjacent megaplex.

All in all, for $94 including a bottle of wine ($14.95) it's a fairly reasonable night out if you want to keep the kids happy. But major points off for the chip fiasco. Perhaps they took them out of the display cabinet by mistake?

Riding for homeless youth

2009-07-10T11:32:00.005+08:00

Yohei Takahashi – a 21-year-old university student from Japan – will today complete his journey after riding a push-bike across Australia in an epic 7000km ‘Ride for Youth’ to raise money for young Australians suffering from homelessness, addiction or mental illness.

Of course, his final leg from Northam to Perth has been dogged by driving rain and unpredictable wind gusts, making it all the more important for West Australians to kick in some dollars to make his efforts worthwhile.

And I strongly urge you to read Yohei's blog updates - the English isn't great, but the intent and insights he captures in his short posts are priceless. When you consider donating, remember this is a guy who has been living off $5 a day and considers his daily can of cola his little piece of 'heaven'.

Why? Well when he was studying English in Brisbane, Yohei saw a level of poverty – particularly among young people – that he hadn’t seen in Japan. Moved by the generosity Australians had displayed towards him during his stay, Yohei decided to ‘give something back’ and started his ride to help disadvantaged Australian youth.

Yohei hopes to raise $1 for every km he rides, but is unfortunately behind on his target. He has already travelled through Brisbane, the Gold Coast, Byron Bay, Sydney, Canberra, Melbourne and Hobart, Adelaide and is currently riding through the outskirts of Perth.

If every West Australian blogger, twitterer or facebook friend donated just $1 to support Yohei’s efforts, we could out-do the rest of Australia.

Yohei will donate all proceeds from his Ride for Youth to Mission Australia's services to help disadvantaged young people - a cause that's very close to the Cookster's heart.

So come on WA, it’s time to show the rest of the country that we care about disadvantaged young people just as much as Yohei does by supporting his efforts.

Yohei’s journey across Western Australia – and all the way to Perth – can be followed via his online blog and you can also stump up some cash while you're there - click here

Lights on in North Fremantle

2009-07-02T09:22:00.004+08:00

WA Premier Colin Barnett came to turn on the new floodlights at the North Fremantle Centre last Friday and ended up staying for a night of entertainment while the winter storms raged outside.

The lights, donated by Fremantle City Council and the Fremantle Port Authority, will bring night bowling to the club for the first time, adding another element to what is fast becoming the region's thriving entertainment hub.

After carrying out his official duties, the Premier and a huge crowd of locals of all ages danced along to a lively performance of African song and dance by Dunumba.

But it was the performance by indigenous singer songwriter Rodney Drummond that really caught Mr Barnett's ear, extending a half hour visit into a whole night. From all accounts the Premier is keen to catch Rodney live in action the next time he's in town.

The North Fremantle Centre is quickly becoming a cultural hub, hosting a range of events from comedy nights through to alternative music events supporting local musicians and performers.

This Friday, 3 July come on down and catch The Traffic Stoppers & 'friends' and see for yourself what all the hype is about. Sunday is also looking good for barefoot bowls - come and have a roll!

Colin Barnett to flick the switch

2009-06-26T10:48:00.003+08:00

Western Australian Premier Colin Barnett will officially flick the switch on the new floodlights at the North Fremantle Centre (North Fremantle Bowling Club) at a function today at 5.30pm.

The lights, donated by Fremantle City Council and the Fremantle Port Authority, will bring night bowling to the club for the first time.

The Premier will be giving a short speech and carrying out his official duties at 5.30pm, followed by a foot stomping performance of African song and dance on the green by Dunumba. This will be followed by solo guitarist Rodney Drummond and a show by the Pocket Theatre.

Word up - get there early and be entertained by a performance from children's orchestra, the String Beans. If they get old and fat later in life they can call themselves the Broad Beans... boom tish!

The North Fremantle Centre is quickly becoming the cultural hub in the region, hosting a range of events from comedy nights through to alternative music events supporting local musicians and performers. We even have Pirate band Rumskull hoisting the Jolly Roger on a frequent basis!

WHAT:
Official turning on the lights ceremony by Premier Colin Barnett
WHERE:
The North Fremantle Centre, off Stirling Hwy, North Fremantle
WHEN:
5.30-7.30pm today, Friday 26 June
CONTACT:
John Cooke (Jnr) PPR, 0433 679 780 / John Cooke (Snr) NFC Manager, 0409 848 721

Snuggie electrical storm

2009-06-22T19:15:00.003+08:00

Thanks to my Mother-In-Law the Cookster household now has its own Snuggie. And before I go too far, we are very grateful for the new addition... Mrs Cookster is looking forward to many snuggie nights ahead.

Me? Well, let me just say straight up that if the Snuggie was a restaurant, it would be a pie van at the local football ground as opposed to a fine diner. It is in a word, NOT snuggie.

It is advertised as a convenient blanket replacement, but it's not blanket material. In fact it's felt. Mrs Cookster says it's "fleece", but that would be fleecing the truth somewhat. So felt it is and thin felt at that which isn't very snuggie at all.

However, the material is particularly good at building up static electricity. After two minutes of draping this material around my person, I began to generate my own micro-electrical storm. The air was fairly crackling with static, my hair was on end and *apologies to the weak of stomach here* even my chest hair was at 45 degrees. Every hair on my body was at attention, much to the disgust of Mrs Cookster who suggested a good waxing might be in order.

Of course, the kids were roaring with laughter at Daddy's clownish sci-tech display, but the two-year-old got the fear when a small lightning bolt shot out across the room and struck Dixie Marshall on the cheek. Okay, okay, I made this bit up.

It was only when the Western Power rep smashed through the front door trying to plug me in to the grid, to "harness my Snuggie potential" that I realised it was time to shed this quasi-religious static suit before someone got hurt.

Of course, it didn't take long to get it off, because it doesn't have a back. It's the hospital gown of leisure wear, designed for the person who likes to share their backside with the world. Thinking back to the TV ad, I can't remember seeing a whole lot of butt on display... a half ar5ed idea perhaps?

This is my considered opinion and even though some people clearly get off on the Snuggie phenomenon, a static-charged felt blanket with baggy arm holes and no arse covering is just not for me. Go figure?

I'm thinking the duvet suit might be more my style...

Why social media is like punk

2009-06-17T09:18:00.002+08:00

Thanks to mUmBRELLA for this thought-provoking link. You know I always wanted to be a punk, more in a Saints or Sex Pistols kinda way than those wannabes Green Day... hey, maybe it's time to re-open the piercing in the ear?

Melbourne-based PR consultant Gerry McCusker - author of the PR Disasters blog, presented at the International Association of Business Communicators conference in San Francisco last week.

His topic was Why Are CEOs Scared of Social Media? As part of the presentation he created this two minute presentation on the similarities of social media to punk rock.

Withnail's theme

2009-06-11T10:10:00.002+08:00

Have I ever told you my favourite film is Withnail & I? Probably a hundred times. I went to see it when it first came out, then rushed home to grab the flatmates and went back for the next screening... ahhh, the 80s.

Anyway, before I start smoking banana skins, here's a particularly delightful piece if music from the film, 'Withnail's Theme', enjoy.

Turn off your spinklers, you nonces!

2009-06-10T05:21:00.002+08:00

I took the bins out first thing this morning inbetween heavy showers sweeping in off the ocean, only to be confronted by sprinklers in full flight on the properties both sides of my house.

Watering in the rain. Are we stupid, or what? Okay, so people program their reticulation for ease of use, but is it really that hard to turn the system off when winter arrives and just turn it back on manually if we hit a dry stretch?

I say not, and so does the state government.

Water Minister Graham Jacobs said the frustrating and disappointing aspect from the Water Corporation's point of view was that throughout summer and well into autumn, daily water consumption was less than what would have been expected and well on track to saving the anticipated 45 billion litres through the sprinkler roster and other water demand measures.

“However, from that time on, despite the long warm and dry spell, during which it could be expected consumption would be a little higher, it became much higher and, until last week, remained ridiculously high,” he said.

“The State Government supports the Water Corporation’s concerns that, if we can't quickly get back on track, serious consideration will be given to a winter sprinkler ban.

“This idea would not be a panic move but a realistic reaction to the current situation. The State needs to bank water now for the summer, even if we do get good winter rains."

Now hear this Perth, we live on a freaking sand dune (most of us) and by rights we should have no lawns whatsoever.

Would our gardens really suffer if we weren't allowed to use reticulation in winter? No, they wouldn't. Even when it's dry, get out there at 6am and roll around on your lawns to check out just how wet they are anyway.

Okay, so you use bore water so it must be okay? No, you're an idiot. What, you think the world is an empty ball that's full of water that will last for ever? No again. It's a limited supply and it too is running out, just like our ludicrously low level dams.

In Melbourne you can't water your lawns at all in summer. It's a fact of life and people have built a bridge and got over themselves.

Here in Perth we're getting all 'cat's bum mouthed' over the prospect of losing the sprinkler during winter.

I would never propose that people take the law into their own hands, but an old 3 iron used in anger would take the tops off those sprinkler heads fairly smartly if they happened to show their heads in the rain.

It's okay neighbours, my clubs shall remain locked in the shed... for now.

Sexpo takes over Perth radio

2009-05-22T12:41:00.005+08:00

It's been a hectic few days in Sexpo land, with Harmony porn stars Keisha Kane and Ree Petra setting up shop at Nova 937 to entertain the Action Battle Team one day, then Nathan, Nat and Shaun the next!

Here's a link to the ABT interview video... warning!... and note the amount of microphone fiddling that goes on!

You can see the images here.

Nova's breakfast team took advantage of having two real life porn stars in the studio by directing their very own Nova Pornos- click here. Yes, Nathan made his directorial (is that a word?) debut and the results speak for themselves. He makes a good radio jock.

The photo gallery of the visit's right here. What's the deal with that rubber hand?

But we haven't only been getting jiggy with the team at Nova, Sexpo has been all over the airwaves. Shane from Mix 94.5's the Big Couch joined us at the launch event and simply had to get himself a Sexpo Showgirls Sandwich. You can add your comments on what you think's on his mind here.

The afternoon guys haven't had it all their own way though, with Botica's Bunch in the morning making great use of some therapeutic massage devices I dropped in during the week - us Sexpo people like to call them Love Rockets.

You would have heard Sexpo emcee Russell Gilbert all over the 6PR breakfast show with Millsy and Tony Mac. Sexpo GM Rob Godwin and Penthouse Pet / pole dancer extraordinaire Miss Suzie Q were also on 6PR, giving Howard Sattler's show a bit of sauce.

And last, but not least, Em and Sam Mac at 92.9fm have also been having plenty of fun with the whole Sexpo concept. Indeed, Em had to have a quiet parent moment when her daughter walked into the room wearing the pink fluffy Love Cuffs I'd sent her in the Sexpo media kit. Still, better than a Love Rocket!

Sexpo circus rolls into Perth

2009-05-20T18:00:00.006+08:00

We were halfway around the Causeway round-a-bout when the porn began to take hold... the Hyatt Hotel turned into a giant swooping Love Rocket and the Bell Tower loomed as a 15 metre phallus hopping wildly across Langley Park...

It's every red-blooded, 40-plus PR bloke's wildest dream - a client that offers porn, pole dancing and the opportunity to spruik as many sexual euphamisms as you can wrap your tongue around.

Yes, for the past two weeks I have been emeshed in the world of Sexpo. Australia's largest travelling adult lifestyle and entertainment show.

Harmony porn stars Keisha Kane and Ree Petra caused quite the 'stir' in at Nova 937 Perth today when the lads from the Action Battle Team interviewed them before the start of Sexpo Perth, 21-24 May.

The double entendres flowed thick and fast and the girls were rather taken with the turkey slapping machine in the foyer.

Earlier in the week it was off to Parliament House for the launch of the Sexpo Stimulus Package. Under the banner of Wake up Perth - Sex is Fun! we gave WA's MPs the last ray of flesh-fueled sunshine before the arrival of winter.

The latest images from the Sexpo launch, Thursday 21 May.

WA votes no to daylight saving

2009-05-17T13:27:00.003+08:00

It's official - daylight saving is dead in the water in Western Australia and there are plans afoot to bring back roster petrol stations.

WA, one hour and 57 years behind the rest of Australia. Would the last person to leave Perth please turn out the lights? Oh, that's right, they were never on...

Dear NO voters, that's okay, I'll be bringing the kids around when they wake up at 4.45am every day in summer and we'll have a nice play on your front lawn.

Who the f@#k needs sunlight that early anyway? All the selfish old farts pouring precious water on their gardens, or walking their arthritic dogs. Sports people? Those without kids and empty nesters?

All I wanted was a bit of time to get out of the house with the kids when I come home from work... maybe have a barbie, go to the beach, kick the footy. But no, you lot wouldn't have that. According to you all normal people should be eating dinner by 5.30pm and tucked up in bed with Fat Cat.

I'm mad as hell - the miserable, backwards thinking people of Perth would rather have the sun blazing in while most of us are either still in bed, or getting ready for work / school. More sunlight hours during the time of day when we have the least chance of actually using it... unless you're old, childless, or milking a cow.

Someone scoffed today that talk of the yes vote bringing about cultural change was ludicrous. I agreed. Indeed it would have been more an evolutionary change, akin to the time when the human race ceased being monkeys and ate our own faeces for fun.

Thanks for nothing folks and keep an eye out for me this summer - I'll be the one driving around honking his horn at the first signs of daylight making sure you're all awake to enjoy this most 'precious' time of the day.

Dockers Vs Eagles - who are the NO voters?

2009-05-14T16:22:00.004+08:00

Maybe I'm blinded by purple, but from recent conversations it would appear that more Fremantle Dockers supporters are set to support the introduction of daylight saving than their feathered West Coast Eagles cousins... twice removed.

Certainly from Cookster HQ deep within the western suburbs the word yes has been banished from the language altogether. Any utterance of the word is greeted by a 'cat's bum' closed lip snarl and the roar of an SUV engine as it roars away in disgust.

Given the spartan presence of fellow Dockers in the cultured west, you would have to think that it's the chardy-sipping blue and gold brigade that will swing the vote over to the deep, dark NO side.

If my family's anything to go by, then I'm certain this must be the case. Happy to concede I'm wrong though, so please make your mark in the poll to the right of this page.

So, in which footy team's lap does the future of daylight saving lie?

In response to the NO daylight saving mob

2009-05-05T12:43:00.002+08:00

Just thought this was worthy of its own post...

Hi Jo - in response to your arguments, non-CWA related of course:

Try living in a country where the sun goes down at 4.30pm. That justifies DST absolutely.
- I've lived in the UK, but still don't see why we can't enjoy DLS here? What, we should whip ourselves because we live in a country that's just too good for us? Are we not worthy?

1. DST definitely interferes with the biological clocks of children, making it harder to sleep, and harder to get up.
- I've got three aged from 2-9 and they all sleep better during DLS summer. The baby wakes up at 7am as opposed to 6am. The nine year old never wants to get up, regardless of the season.

2. By deferring the hottest part of the day until later, the biggest change I've noticed in my neighbourhood is the excessive use of air-conditioning.
- We're all outside enjoying the late summer sun until well after 7pm, so the aircon goes on later, if at all. If it's a hot night, it's hot regardless of when the sun's out! A lot depends on the 'coolth' factor in your home design and whether there's a seabreeze. The Freo Doctor doesn't care about the time, DLS or not.

3. Who wants a 38 degree day to last all night? I can't think of a worse torture.- As above, when it's hot, it's hot!!! Another hour of daylight at the end of the day hardly constitutes a whole night.

4. I had no trouble finding the beach before DST, why is it such a YES issue now?- Cause when you work until 6-6.30pm and it's already getting dark the beach isn't an option.

5. Going to a big concert at night, in daylight, is just plain wrong!- Christ, I wish I had the time to go to a concert... too busy playing with the aforementioned kids!!!

6. No golf courses cater for more daylight so why bother?-
I live across the road from one and there are still people thwacking away at 7.30pm-plus. Wish I had time to play golf though. Too busy with the, etc, etc :)

7. People are still watering their lawns at 6pm, wasting our precious water supply under the hot sun.-
Then those people should be shot. They are dick heads. Tell them to put their hose away and get up in the morning to do it. I think watering should be banned altogether.

Time to crank up the YES vote

2009-05-04T09:57:00.003+08:00

Add your voice to the poll to the right of this page and let's send a message to the early to rise, early to bed mob who would have us live our lives between 4 - 10am... time to fight the good fight and if we can't be good, let's throw a few sucker punches their way.

The NO group launched its campaign yesterday to a packed house of 20 CWA ring-ins and a half dozen bloked who'd been bribed by talk of free tins of Emu Export. The average age was about 75.

The wild mob was waving placards saying 'we're sick of dark mornings and hot afternoons' and 'bring back roster petrol stations'. The action was shortlived, however, as most of the crew had to be home for dinner at 4pm and in the jammies by 5.30pm for asn intimate evening in bed listening to nightline.

I'm surprised we didn't see big Quentin Lynch from the West Coast Eagles there on the day, but I'm told that he's so ugly he's only allowed out in daylight hours to play footy. Scares the kids. No wonder he's dark on the whole DLS issue.

The YES campaign launches next Saturday in South Perth, so I suggest that anyone with a vested interest in WA staying in touch with the rest of Australia and not becoming a time capsule, should get along and show their support.

Lean to the left, lean to the right, lean to the left and fight! fight! fight!

Old Spice Boys waft into town

2009-04-21T10:44:00.002+08:00

The Old Spice Boys, from Byron Bay, are teaming up with local Singer/Songwriter Brenda Chapman, for an impromptu evening this Wednesday that will take you on musical journey from the sublime to the ridiculous.

Fresh from the Fairbridge Festival, these performers have kindly agreed to do a gig at the North Fremantle Centre*. So, if you missed them when they played last weekend at the festival, come and join in this spontaneous gathering.

Wednesday April 22nd –The show starts at 8 pm but feel free to come down early and have a drink and takeaway meal or perhaps a game of lawn bowls. Doors open at 7pm. Cost: $10/5 (conc)

*UPDATE - the boys will also be playing a gig at Clancy's in Fremantle on Thursday, 23 April.

THE OLD SPICE BOYS
The Big Men of Small Music: Azo Bell - ukulele, Tim Reeves - snare drum, Billy Milroy - tea-chest bass.

The Old Spice Boys are a comic swing trio. They play their, minimal instruments with virtuosity, charm and wit.

From Byron Bay, 800 km north of Sydney on the North Coast of New South Wales, they are big favorites at jazz, folk, blues and comedy festivals throughout Australia.

Using just a ukulele, a tea-chest (one-string) bass and a solitary snare drum the Old Spice Boys stroll fearlessly through an extraordinary repertoire of their own hilarious songs along side most unlikely interpretations of tunes by artists from Miles Davis to Ian Dury, from Prince to Bill Haley and from Bo Diddley to the Seekers.

The Old Spice Boys have been the audience favorites at a range of events including folk festivals, product launches, gallery openings, many a corner pub, family concerts, blues nights, outdoor celebrations, jazz clubs, weddings, wakes and whatever else needs a warm and witty trio of wonderful musicians dedicated to having fun and making great music at exactly the same time. Charlie Parker meets the ukulele. Website: www.oldspiceboys.com

BRENDA CHAPMAN
A gifted singer/songwriter based in Fremantle, Western Australia, Brenda writes to express the heartfelt stories from her own colourful life.

She delivers her engaging storytelling with velvety, soulful vocals and a unique Earthy guitar style. Brenda has been referred to as “The Queen of the Chorus” for her captivating melodies. She will be joined by some special guests. www.myspace.com/brendachapman

For further details, please call Jane on 0419 912 510 or the NFC Bar Manager, John Cooke 0409 848 721

(*located in the old N Freo Bowling Club, between Thompson Rd and Stirling Hwy)

Centre for Lawn Bowls & Tennis-Social Events & Hire Venue-Music, Comedy & Drama Productions

What is this, Lovers & Lobbers?

2009-04-07T10:48:00.008+08:00

Ye gads, I was persusing the interwebs yesterday and came across a rather banal sort of post on Rotto Bloggo from a bloke calling himself Michael Hunt who runs a blog called Lovers and Lobbers.

To be honest, I thought it was the ramblings of some bogan couple without much care for spelling who liked a bit of jiggery poke in the great outdoors, in this case the lovely Rottnest Island. And then I checked the site stats and saw that the blog was attracting over 4,000 hits a day.

On closer inspection I see it's really a site dedicated to capturing Perth's young folk in varying stages of drug and alcohol-fueled madness. Lot's of clenched jaws, weird hand dancing, tongue displays, pashing and back-room groping.

It holds a curious fascintation and I for one would like to see more of the 'on the road stories' as featured on Rotto Bloggo. One to keep an eye on.

*Update - after various discussions, both in the office and via The Worst of Perth, I'm starting to reach the conclusion that Lovers and Lobbers is really just an extension of facebook, where instead of posting images ourselves, we're now allowing others to do it for us... the more compromising, the better... the y-gen brigade is hungry for fame and MySpace and facebook just aren't doing it for them anymore.

Seriously, when a bunch of 20-somethings are out on the town, check out how much time they spend taking digital snaps of themselves, invariably doing the same thing, just with different combinations of people.

Would I have done the same in my 20s if capturing the moment meant pushing a button on my mobile phone? Not that we had mobiles of course... For us to take photos at the same time as we endeavoured to get smashed required some pretty good organisation - you had to buy film for a start. It was an exercise usually carried out by the arty-farty amateur photographer among us... you know, the one with the woolly sideburns and the black horn rimmed glasses.

Carrying a camera around was only a viable option if it gave you some cred - a techy appendage of sorts, before techy stuff was around.

So am I pissing up the wrong tree here in regards to Lovers and Lobbers? Do today's 'yoof' hunger for a level of fame that carries with it the inherent risk that Mrs Brown from English will see them engaged in oral fornication under a grand piano while out of their skulls on MDMA?

Cookster
Follow me on twitter:
http://www.twitter.com/freocookster

Where the NO votes live

2009-04-06T09:40:00.003+08:00

Thanks to my esteemed colleague from the Rotto Bloggo desk David 'The Outrage' Cohen for drawing my attention to Antony Green's election blog analysis of who voted yes and no in the last daylight saving referendum.

No surprise to see it was the farmers who stitched us up last time, while the good folk of Rottnest Island were leading the charge for the extra hour of sunshine at the end of the day - the part of the day when it's actually of use.

I'm yet to hear anyone argue the case to end daylight saving? Cat got your tongue?

Daylight saving zombies ATTACK!!!

2009-04-01T23:58:00.000+08:00

Somebody's squeezed a few vials of Viagra into the tea urn down at Daylight Savings Zombie Central. Yes siree, there's a whiff of victory in the air and the cardigan brigade couldn't be more excited if Eoin Cameron was back on the electoral hustings.

It's been slim pickings this past week in the zombie hunt pack. Frank's done his best, but with Carps on the sidelines turning to fat and The Lazy Aussie running decoy for Barnett, he's pushing shit uphill with the proverbial toothpick.

Bento is hell bent on cutting the fiends down to size with his Ruger semi-auto with the hollow tip slugs Skink smuggled in from Taiwan, but the Bus Driver and his crazy partner Tea are providing safe passage in a steel plated ex-Transperth bus. Couldn't penetrate that sucker with a Zeliska 600 Nitro Express Revolver.

It's great to have new blood in Shazza come on-board to take on the hand-to-liver spot dotted hand-combat, but for every new body we gain, another falls by the wayside. The Outrage Cohen has been next to useless since he started mainlining that aqua-farmed squid from Chinese-Taipei. It was only a matter of time before the zombies commandeered the presses at The Post to turn out their JUST SAY NO propaganda, but at least the Stones Green Ginger-based Molotov that Poor Lisa lobbed through the window put a spanner in the works.

The regionals are where we're really copping it in the neck and although Rolly is making all the right noises, my fears are that he's working as a double agent. Word is he has plans to put Matt Birney under the wheels of his tractor and seed him with a GM-free canola crop.

The referendum is drawing ever closer. The excited chatter of false teeth and the snap of elasticated double-waisted pants is a drill boring through my skull, making passage for the savage rays that will surely exact their revenge when summer 09/10 rolls around.

As I wander the early morning beaches, taking out the kneecaps of those rendered incontinent at the giddy joy of banishing daylight saving to the dark bottom drawer where Sunday trading resides, my thoughts start to wander.

Lonely summer afternoons on the beach watching a feeble, febrile sun slink away into the Indian Ocean at 6.30pm. Riding back from Little Parakeet Bay on Rottnest Island asking no one in particular, 'Hey, who turned out the lights?'. Poking the snags on the backyard barbie in the half gloom wondering if they're going black, or if it's just the fading light. Sending down a beam ball to the number one son in the Floreat nets and realising too late that he can't see jack shit and is about to wear an incrediball on the chin.

But I guess that's okay, cause the zombies will march forth in the early morn like some remake of Wacko Jacko's Thiller video, boldly striding along to the beat of their own selfish drums as the rest of us consider block-out curtains to keep the baby from waking up at 4.30am.

They'll gather in excited clusters at suburban Chinese restaurants in the 6pm gloom, proferring wine coolers and competing with each other as to who goes to bed and gets out of bed the earliest. 'Water the lawn at 4am, tea on the table at 4.30pm and in bed with Graham Maybury by 6.30pm - that's the life Frank!"

I gather I'm not alone in the YES army, but I feel that our numbers are thin and the zombies are on the rise. Indeed, I think there will be people who vote NO simply because they feel that somehow the people in the eastern states are trying to get one over them. If it aint broke, don't fix it.

And then there's the crowd who say we already get more sunlight than the east, so we don't need daylight saving. Well, I say balls to that theory. Maybe we get more at 4.30am when it's about as much use as TOAB.

So I guess the question is, are you with me, or are you de-linting the woollen cardy and sharpening up the chopticks for a small night out with the zombie brigade?

Yes, or no?

Hooker's pole in the press

2009-03-26T13:57:00.002+09:00

Great to see the Fremantle Gazette throwing its support behind this Sunday's bushfire fundraiser at the North Fremantle Centre - link to the story here.

Fundraiser band update

2009-03-22T15:04:00.003+09:00

The line-up for the Victorian Bushfires Fundraiser at the North Fremantle Centre on Sunday 29 March has just been announced.

Pirate Band extraordinaire Rumskull, The Hectics and Rainbow City will be providing the eclectic mix of grooves, with a blues act to be locked away in coming days.

Olympic champ Steve Hooker will also be pole vaulting himself into the mix, along with a solo performance from Leon Ewing.

Slip your shoes off, sip on something cold and delicious, have a lazy roll and help top up the Victorian Bushfire Appeal at the same time.

3pm - 10pm, Stirling Hwy North Fremantle, enter via Thompson Rd.

Prank of the year

2009-03-21T09:59:00.010+09:00

Three states, road rage, wayward Chinese students and a 'cast'of thousands... some of the key ingredients in what The Perth Files is calling the Prank of the Year.

It all started about two years ago, give or take 12 months, when a stockbroking mate in Melbourne, Brendan, decided it would be a good idea to CC a random person from the blogosphere into our email conversations. Keep in mind, these were not conversations of the intellectual kind, they would more easily fit into the 'talking shit' category.

And so, along came Dom. Dom was a good sport and played along with Bren's funny ways, until a degree of 'stalking' entered his tone and all of a sudden, our 'third leg' interwebs buddy in Brisbane was threatening legal action.

Of course, I took all this with a shovel full of salt, until 'solicitors' became involved and I started to wonder if indeed it had all gone pear shaped and Brendo and I would be facing a charge of cyber stalking.

Of course, it was all a prank that Bren had cooked up with Dom's support, but full respec to the man, he held on to that prank like a Rhodesian Ridgeback holds on to the throat of a distressed Shitzu.

Round 1, full points to Brendo.

But that leads us on to this latest round robin of pranking. Dom was planning a trip to Melbourne and we thought what stunt could we pull on a man who can see a prank coming from as far afield as Geelong?

The answer? Tell him that a client's daughter would be visiting Melbourne from Perth and that she was keen to learn all about the world of stockbroking. A young tear-away, nightclub haunting rebellious Chinese student called Jiao Chen.

It was a busy day in the money world when the receptionist paged Brendan to tell him - 'and I hope I pronounce this correctly' - that Jow Chan was at reception.

Full of puff, Brendo handballs a major piece of work to a colleague and makes his way to reception to meet the pretty young Chinese girl that he's seen in so many facebook pictures that were emailed to him by his good friend Cookster.

Of course, who is waiting at reception? Dom, laughing like a drain. Hello Mr Brendan, you very strong man?

Revenge is on Bren's mind and with Dom due to land in Perth in a matter of weeks, he immediately hatches a prank of his own... with the devious Dom adding the master touches.

I get an email saying that Dom has almost run into a 'Car-Voyant' at a set of lights in Brisbane, who does readings of people's number plates. Of course, Brendo's right into it, so I supply my rego as well and two days later, we get our readings... all highly amusing stuff.

Then Dom arrives in Perth, but it's an awkward few days and it looks like we won't be able to catch up, so she spills the beans to me by email. The rego they got out of me was used in a bodgied-up red light infringement notice and it was due to be delivered to my office by D, Dom's other half.

As fate would have it, just that morning Mrs Cookster had been chased in the people mover by a cranked-up meth addict in a red ute who threatened to kill her. Great place Perth. She'd already filed a police report and I had a copy.

This is where Dom and I see potential for a double play...

Of course I email Bren to tell him that it was unfortunate that he chose today of all days to play his little prank, because when D turned up at my reception, waving a note with our rego in my face and acting like Mr Road Rage, I did what came naturally and pushed him down a short flight of stairs.

The result was, a broken wrist and Dom standing in the doorway of my office shouting 'surprise' while a dozen of my colleagues looked on appalled.

Not only did the wrist need a cast, but Dom and D had a fight and decided to travel home separately. D stayed on after his wrist was plastered and we had a drink to patch things up - and brood about the evil Brendo.

Of course Brendo could smell a particularly noxious rat here, but the official police report had him toey and he couldn't dismiss this one out of hand. We had him sweating and he went to ground waiting for us to crack.

But crack we did not, indeed we stuck it out for weeks and waited until Dom's next trip to Melbourne. To drive home our advantage we decided it would be a grand idea if D was to pay Brendo a visit - complete with a plastered arm, signed, sealed and delivered right to his office.

A huge thanks to D and to Dr Ced who combined beatifully to crank the prank meter up to 11 and leave a flummoxed Brendo contemplating where he could possibly go from here. I think the images below capture the closing scenes in all their merry pankster majesty.

Bowling for bushfire victims

2009-03-19T13:57:00.004+09:00

Okay, so holding a fundraiser on a long weekend didn't work so well... but, let's just call it a dress rehearsal for an even BIGGER, BETTER, Victorian Bushfire Fundraising Extravaganza at the North Fremantle Centre on Sunday, 29 March.

Not only can you slip the hush puppies off and have a lazy roll on the green, there will also be grass court tennis, a barbecue and four live bands. Yes, FOUR live bands, and we're talking some serious talent here... there might even be a 'Pirate' band, but watch this space for details.

And that's not all! You've seen Olympic Champion Steve Hooker fling himself really high into the air on the end of a large pole, now you can hear him SINGING. Yes, Steve will take to the stage, along with the legendary Leon Ewing.

Punters can even join the bidding war to get their hands on Steve's signed pole... one that he broke in training, *ouch!*

The show runs from 3 - 10pm and your $5 entry fee will go towards helping Victorian bushfire victims to rebuild their lives.

If you need more information, or want to help out with further auction items, call Cookster Senior on 0409 848 721 or leave me a message right here.

Volunteers needed in the House

2009-03-18T16:14:00.007+09:00

You've probably heard about Ronald McDonald House? Yep, the place headed-up by that red headed clown with the big shoes who likes to hang out with a cheeseburger dressed in prison stripes.

Well, first-up I should say that I work in a PR capacity for McDonald's Australia, and the House - along with the other activities funded by Ronald McDonald House Charities (RMHC)- is an area where we dedicate a lot of PR time and effort.

The services that RMHC provides for families going through what is probably the most difficult time of their lives is simply outstanding.

The cornerstone of the services is Ronald McDonald House, which provides a home-away-from-home for regional families needing to stay together while their child undergoes treatment for a serious illness.

I've been involved with the Houses in Melbourne, Hobart and Perth over the past eight years and it still affects me every time I visit. Many of the kids that helped us out with media opportunities, or came along to launch events, are no longer with us. On a positive note, many more still are and catching up with lost schooling through the Ronald McDonald Learning Program.

So, why am I blogging about the House? Well, the people that make the House in Subiaco tick are the volunteers who come along and help out with all the general housekeeping duties... AND WE NEED MORE, RIGHT NOW!

I was having a chat with West Leederville mum Simone Hart and thought her story about getting involved was fairly typical of what I've heard from other vounteers over the years.

When Simone’s daughter started full time schooling, she found she had three hours spare on a Thursday morning and immediately thought of the House.

“I approached the House and let them know of my limited availability. They were so flexible, and I have been doing my Thursday morning shift for almost a year now. It's very easy, but at the same time so very rewarding."

Simone cleans the bedrooms at Ronald McDonald House after the families leave, preparing rooms for new families to enter. She also helps tidy the communal areas and play rooms, assisted by three other volunteers.

“There are plenty of ways you can help at Ronald McDonald House. I didn’t really want to be in contact with the children – it would be too challenging for me. Instead I decided to assist with housekeeping.

“The volunteers I work with are just magnificent. One of the ladies I work with on Thursdays has been volunteering at the House for 18 years, she’s so admirable.

“It is a completely rewarding, selfless, and uplifting experience. Cleaning up is the last thing on people’s minds when they are experiencing suffering, and it's the least I can do to help.

“I’m no hero, I just want to do my bit. It makes me feel good, but I don’t do it for myself, I do it for the families in need. We go through life thinking of ourselves too much. For just three hours a week, I can make a difference – anyone can.”

So if you've got some spare time, or you know of a friend or relative who might be able to help, phone Nola Smith on 9382 2960. You can also help us out by sharing the link to this post with your own email list.

Sorry to come over all serious on you, but knowing the great work this charity does I'll do whatever I can to help - here's hoping you feel the same :)

Quilty quacks the big time

2009-03-11T08:10:00.006+09:00

There's always going to be controversy about the merits of an abstract rendering of Oz-rocker Jimmy Barnes, particularly when it's been made by squashing one canvas on top of another to capture the former booze hound "off his head".

But that's exactly what Sydney artist, and lover of vintage Toranas and budgies, Ben Quilty did to take out the very tidy $150,000 Doug Moran National Portrait Prize yesterday.

Titled 'There But For The Grace of God I No. 2', it's a typically lavish piece of art that brings to mind the sort of tradesman-like quality - think mortar and trowel - that won Quilty the Metro 5 Art Award for young artists in 2004.

Don't get me wrong, Quilty is no cashed-up bogan slapping paint around without a purpose. His work boasts strength, plenty of rich primary colours and a texture that makes you want to reach out and touch. It's devil may care sort of stuff and not for your average punter who thinks that art is all about picture-postcard realism.

Back in 2004 when I was working for Metro 5 Gallery in a PR capacity, one of the paintings shortlisted for the Gallery's annual award really caught my eye -'Elwood Torana No. 7'.

It was a thickly layered rendering of Quilty's much adored 1972 LJ Torana that I believe he still owns. I loved the painting and in a begrudging, as only he can do kinda way, our chief judge Jeff Kennett thought the same.

Of course the painting went on to take out the then $30,000 Judge's Prize, with Daniel Truscott - a self taught painter who was working as a cook in the Maori Chief Hotel in South Melbourne - winning the $10,000 People's Choice Award. Another good decision.

It was quite the day. We announced the award winner to media in the morning and then I bundled the boys into the Mazda 121 Metro (not quite a Torana, but it is white AND I still own it) and we headed off to do the rounds of Melbourne radio.

The public launch was later that night and while I slinked off into the Armadale night after a couple of chardys to prepare for more media frenzy staring at 6.00am the next day, Quilty and Co went out to put a dint in his $30,000 cheque.

As I cruised across the Westgate Bridge at 4.45am the next morning feeling less than spectacular, a young Sydney artist was ruing the fact that he'd bothered to go to bed at all that morning. Indeed, Ben Quilty was feeling not so much seedy, but more like the proverbial pig had "shat in his head" aka Withnail & I.

I pulled up outside his Spencer Street digs and Quilty bundled himself into the car, cursing the first lick of light rising over Port Phillip Bay. "We decided to have one cocktail of every colour," I can recall him telling me, the hint of tequlia rich in the close cabin. "I might be sick, I should never have gone to bed".

Winding the windows down we cruised the empty city streets, headed up St Kilda Rd and took a very slow and careful left into High Street to make our date with Steve Leibman, Tracey Grimshaw and the Today Show team... a live cross from the gallery, beamed across Australia.

When we arrived, Ben took solace in coffee, while I performed the ritual I'd done a number of times in the past - guarding a single car parking space out the back of the Gallery for the Channel 9 outside broadcast van to park. It was the only spot where they could get a signal and it was my job to stop wave after wave of Toorak's elite yummy mummies from stealing the show.

With the van safely in place I headed inside the catch up with the second star of the show Jeff Kennett, who was quietly chuckling as Quilty bemoaned his $30,000 hangover.

Of course it all went swimmingly. Jeff cracked jokes over the headphones with Tracy, Quilty was the rakish young artist looking stylishly bedraggled and I looked on thanking some higher power that another Art Award had almost run its course.

Well done Ben and to all the other Metro 5 (now the Metro Gallery) artists I worked with who have gone on to do great things over the past eight years: Daniel Truscott, Marcus Wills, Yvette Coppersmith, Michael Zavros, Zhong Chen, Jason Benjamin and Emma Langridge (among others).

Can't wait to see what the cashed-up bogans make of the Barnsy picture!

Marlborough Man Mason does not pass go

2009-03-09T14:47:00.003+09:00

A note from the man who had all Western Australia's hopes riding on his tiny silver thimble... or racing car... maybe the horse?

He had Lillee in his side, but alas, when the pressure was on he did a Kim Hughes... albeit minus the golden curls. In the plane on the way home from the Australian Nationals in Melbourne, he attempted to do a Marshy and empty the plane of tinnies, but again, he was a six pack short of a carton.

Friends/family/colleagues,

Many of you I know are already aware of my fate at the Australian National Monopoly Championships (the Nationals) last week in Melbourne. But for the rest of you here is what may prove to be the final word on Monopoly, or so you hope.

To paraphrase the great boxing commentator whose name escapes me: “there will be no trip to Vegas for this West Australian bounty hunter”

Like all WA sporting teams of late – be they Dockers, Eagles, Warriors or Wildcats – I went down in a screaming heap. I lost, I choked, I took a hammering in the ring bit, I, well, all of the above.

It probably didn’t help that Dennis Lillee declared that I was the best WA Monopoly champion he had ever seen and he was confident I would bring home the bacon. Thanks DK!

As the 15 minutes of fame clock clicks over to the 14 min 58 second mark, I just want to take time out to thank all of you who offered me your support, wisdom, advice, your anecdotal stories about the world’s most popular board game and generally took the p*ss out of me. Your interest was much appreciated.

A big thanks to everyone who sent me monopoly themed text message after I was eliminated along the lines of going to jail, going directly to jail, not passing go and not collecting $200.

The first message was funny, the second amusing, the third mmmm, the fourth stick to your day job and by the 12th, hey I’m in Melbourne enjoying a free holiday and you’re stuck at work.

As I cling to my last seconds of fame, I will point out that I am the reigning WA State Monopoly champion until 2013 and have more in common with Steve Hooker - who also holds his Olympic title for four years – than anyone else on this email list, possibly with the exception of Mick Collis. (Sorry I let you down Mick, I bet you didn’t know, you’re still my hero!).

Highlights, there were many. Was it seeing one state champion shed a tear upon elimination – no. Was it watching one state champion get eliminated in the semi-final and spit the dummy and not return for the final – no. Was it learning that two of the state champions actually lost their state title and then travelled interstate to win a “foreign” state title so as to compete in the nationals- no

Was it hearing about how one state champion quit his job to become a property developer on the strength of winning the Australian title 10 years earlier only to go bankrupt five years later – quite possibly. What killed him? Maybe the realisation that hotels could not be built for $200, or going to jail was not a necessarily a good tactic in real life.

I feel I represented my state, my beloved Western Australia, with the necessary pride, dignity and honour. I was the last to leave the pre-tournament dinner. I was only one of two competitors who decided that going for a punt at the casino and slurping cocktails into the wee small hours was a good idea the night before the tournament (Note: neither of us won).

The 2009 Nationals were always going to be my swan song in the world of competitive Monopoly but I can’t help but feel after the ecstasy I felt in surging to the state title (and crushing all those kiddies) and the subsequent agony in falling from grace at the Nationals, that there is unfinished business.

I know how General George Patton, Rocky Balboa, Timmy Watson et al felt as they stood in the hall of mirrors contemplating their future. It is a combination of unfinished business and not wanting to retire on a personal low.

I want to experience what Alexander the Great felt (and I don’t mean the Oliver Stone inspired homo-erotic portrayal of the undefeated Macedon military leader). To paraphrase Plutarch (or Hans Gruber) “When Alexander surveyed the breadth of his (Monopoly) domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer”. (Benefits of a classical education!!).

See you at the table in 2013.

Let me sell your stuff!

2009-03-04T17:19:00.004+09:00

An interesting article in the B&T newsletter saying that 'paid bloggers' will become the norm in the future - link here.

To be honest, I'm all for it as long as the blogger is straight up about what the deal is, doesn't give away editorial control of what's written and tries to have a bit of fun with what they say.

I think we'd all agree that standard advertorial copy is about as much fun as a stroke, and has as much cut-through as a 'shopper docket'.

But I'm guessing that's what the deal's all about here anyway, yeah? Forking out product in the hope that someone whips together a really edgy, funny piece of writing that becomes widely shared across teh interwebz?

Of course there are some obvious limitations, but if you put your mind to it, even a freebie 'do it yourself' will kit could be worth an amusing 200 words. As long as you didn't have to die to fullfil the contract.

So I put it to you business owners, fling me your stuff, I'll do my work with it and let's see where it takes us.

Fyi, I REALLY need a new car (or at least an aircon re-gas), fine wines, some new pants and electrical equipment. Oh, and a couch.

Top 10 Perth Twitterers

2009-02-25T15:39:00.003+09:00

According to a post in The Bloggers Guide.com I come in at number 8 in the list of Perth's top 10 twitterers - freocookster link here.

I was quite excited and somewhat amused by this online accolade, but my colleagues bought me straight back down to earth by proclaiming that they had always thought of me as the biggest twit in the office.

My, how they love their twitter, titter (hee, hee!) jokes...

Great to see The Worst of Perth also got a guernsey, but even better that it came in at a 'wince-making' number 9... just beneath me...

So if you want to follow me, please do. I'm not sure where I'm going. Sometimes I walk into doors. But I try to have fun along the way.

Bushfire fundraisers at North Fremantle

2009-02-18T08:46:00.007+09:00

The North Fremantle Centre (Bowling Club) is holding two events over the next two weekends to raise money for the Victorian bushfire victims.

Crackerjack

This Saturday night, 21 February, the Crackerjack series of stand up comedy nights (Ben Elton is Patron) will crank up a special show featuring Nick the Hippy, Ross Vegas, Josh Makinda and many more seriously funny people.

It's a bring your own cheese wheel (snacks) event starting at 8.00pm, with tickets $15 / $13 concession. Phone Geoff on 9337 2062 or email him at: generalcomedystore@hotmail.com

Mayor's Bushfire Appeal

On Saturday, 28 February, the centre will host the Mayor of Fremantle's Bushfire Appeal from 4 - 8.00pm.

Tickets are $5 a head at the door and as well as hanging with Peter Tagliaferri, you can also enjoy live music, a sausage sizzle, raffles and a kids music competition.

Groove on the Green

Don't forget that every Sunday from 2 - 7.00pm you can get down and Groove on the Green with barefoot bowls and an open mic session.

The North Fremantle Centre is on Thompson Rd in North Fremantle, adjacent to Stirling Highway.

Join the facebook group!

You can join the facebook group here and keep up to date with all The Perth Files special member events.

Australia Day Goon of Fortune

2009-02-12T10:31:00.006+09:00

Some great images from Australia Day continue to filter through to The Perth Files and there is none better than this classic Baz Luhrmanesque masterpiece from Redcliffe.

These funsters chose to celebrate Australia Day in the traditional way, with a 'Goon of Fortune' hanging proudly from the great Australian Hills Hoist. Look at that man at work, suckling proudly from the shiny, metallic bosom of the Stanley Leasingham cask on a day out in Heathridge - where the cask remains tres chic.

The second goon bag in the background contains some quality Rose for the more sofistikated family members. You know, Aunty Gene who smokes those exotic Winfield Greens.

Note the classic wooden pegs holding not only the goon bags, but also (we imagine) the Australian Flag, unfurled and proudly flying in the 'Freo Doctor' - Perth's much loved and daily anticipated afternoon sea breeze.

Best dressed on the day was the gentleman captured here in the image, saluting the said Hills Hoist dressed in national costume, 'wife beater singlet and jocks, teamed with thongs', before he heads over to the tin shed to pick up the waiting cricket bat for the impending backyard cricket match.

A beaut day was had by all and when drained the goon bags were definitely given the full Oz-Day treatment and recycled into the obligatory bladder pillows.

Go Aussie!

Victoria burns...

2009-02-08T17:38:00.004+09:00

It's tragic to hear the toll the bushfires are taking in Victoria right now, particularly given that I spent 11 years living and working as a journalist in various parts of Melbourne, including the Yarra Valley.

Indeed, my 'patch' of territory covered for the weekly Yarra Valley Post stretched from Yarra Glen, across to Healesville and then Yarra Junction. My very first day out was a trip to Mount Donna Buang to cover the season's first big snowfall - it was the first time I'd ever seen the stuff!

To now be watching this bushfire tragedy unfold from afar seems quite surreal. Just four years ago, Victoria was still my 'adopted' state - now I'm on the other side of the country knowing what's going on, but feeling it only via news reports and messages from friends that somehow only conspire to make it all the more distant.

It was back at the Post back in January 1997 that I was part of another bushfire that took hold in Melbourne's Dandenong Ranges. I posted about in a few years back, but though it might be worth sharing again.

January 1997...

I was working on a paper out in Ferntree Gully, in the foothills of the Dandenong Ranges and remember very clearly the first signs of a fire that went on to claim three lives.

I had wandered out to the front of the building on Burwood Hwy and noticed smoke rising from very close to the summit of the Ranges, near the television towers. It was a hot and windy day of around 35 degrees and it had been preceeded by a whole string of hot weather, similar to the current situation across Victoria.

It was fascinating to watch as that fire quickly took hold, with flames clearly visible licking the crest of the mountain and sending eddies of smoke and flame high above the undergrowth. A wind change then sent it in off in another direction, with one fire fighter later commenting on how the fire front quite literally jumped over his head as it roared back over the crest of the hill.

While attention was focussed on that fire high in the hills, another blaze was supposedly deliberately lit at the base of the Ranges in a suburb called The Basin, near Upwey. That fire, which I spotted when it was still relatively small and close to the Highway, turned into a raging inferno that blackened the sky above the eastern suburbs - it looked for all the world like a volcano erupting.

It was this fire that climbed rapidly up the other side of the mountain and caught three residents of Seabreeze Avenue, Ferny Creek, completely by surprise. Reading transcripts from the coroners' report, it would seem that the couple and their neighbour were confused by the direction and speed of the second fire and by the time they realised the danger, it was too late to evacuate.

Watching this all transpire from the safety of Ferntree Gully made it seem like a special effects movie on a super large screen. I actually covered activities in the Dandenongs as part of my paper round and to watch this fire consume bushland that I had travelled through regularly and take the lives of people I may well have stood with in the same line at the supermarket, was a sobering experience.

In the days, weeks, months and even years after the fires, the scarred landscape never failed to jog my senses as I wound my way up the mountain.

Here's hoping that loss of life isn't repeated again this summer and that we here in Perth don't face similar threats as the temperature continues to rise.

The $950 question - show me the money!

2009-02-04T23:07:00.003+09:00

The whole issue of whether Kevin Rudd or Malcolm Turnbull has the better package is leading this country to a place it hasn't been in a long, long time. A place where people are becoming actively involved in the political debate, rather than ambling along in a complete state of apathy.

A shame it took a bunch of $950 cheques for people to suddenly work out what side they're on, but I'm think there's a lot more debate to come as we all hang tight for the grim economic ride to come.

Yes indeed, the fat's in the fire and the deal's going down. There's a whole lot of scared, angry people gathering at the gates and I'm thinking those ranks are going to swell.

Already a simple facebook status update has created a torrent of discussion and there are further wildfires breaking out across the social networking system - just look at Malcolm Turnbull or Joe Hockey's facebook pages and follow the threads.

Below are some of the comments generated on my facebook page in the past 24 hours and I'm guessing it'll keep rolling on... your thoughts on the stimulus package? Has Rudd fired all his guns at once? Is Turnbull firing blanks and in need of his own personal stimulus package?

John reckons you should join the group 'Shut up Malcolm, we want our $950 cheques'.

Kate Mac at 4:08pm February 4
Done and DONE! Smug asshat...

Kate Mac at 4:52pm February 4
Ummm I think that's kind of the point. I've never taken a damned thing from the government in terms of benefits, yet I've been paying taxes for twenty-five bloody years! I want my $950. At least this proposed payment is going (basically) to people who are working stiffs like me.

Jamie Duncan at 5:03pm February 4
Yep. What he said. The one time the government is actually willing to lend my family a hand, and there's one of Australia's richest politicians denying us. Again.

Kate Mac at 5:08pm February 4
Agreed. Screw that silvertail, and his constant cries of, "I did it tough as a young 'un". He shits me to tears.

Dawn Gibson at 7:08pm February 4
I want one too....but I think I have to give it back to the tax man....how ironic

Skink McTestie at 7:27am February 5
to Natasha and Nathan and all those bitching about the handouts:

tough

you know why you didn't get it? because you voted for John Howard, probably more than once, and would probably have voted for Hanson of she hadn't been banged up. You aspire to voting Liberal in the same way that you aspire to private schools and aspire to a German automobile.

well, after years of Costello building up a massive surplus by never adjusting the tax thresholds and increasing the tax take by eleven years of bracket creep, Rudd is giving some of it back to those that were taxed highest by Howard.

I won't get a cheque, but I don't care. It was a brilliant move by Rudd - give a quarter of the stimulus package to core swing voters, annoy people like Natasha who will never ever vote Labor, and keepo the media talking about the cash handouts and ignoring the real 75% of the package. Skink McTestie at 7:58am February 5
...and best of all Turnbull makes a complete asshat of himself by trying to prise the cheques out of swing voters' hands and give it to employers as tax breaks for his mates in the 500 Club.

working people are shit scared at the moment, scared of losing thier jobs when many had their job security taken away by Work Choices, and scared of being stuck in negative equity as property prices fall.

They want someone to do something, anything, but do it quick. Turnbull would rather fanny around trying to score points for himself by attacking the government with all the menace of a moth attacking a light bulb.

Jamie Duncan at 9:44am February 5
Skink, old son, that's a tremendous spray. Great work.

Ugly Aussies raise their heads

2009-01-30T10:38:00.005+09:00

Sure, I've aired my opinion about all this Aussie flag flying fervour, so it's only to be expected that the other side of this debate would raise its head - in this case a rather ugly, close cropped, white supremacist kinda head.

Doing a search on the Australian flag in facebook groups took me to this charming site: 'People who find the Australian flag offensive should GET THE FUCK OUT!'

Not sure where the fuck out I'm supposed to go, but I think their logic that anyone who doesn't sport a flag out of every orrifice on Australia Day finds the flag offensive it quite fatally flawed.

There are a whole bunch of arguments in this group based around some council's decision to remove a flag on safety reasons that the 8,000-plus people in this group see as completely un-orstrayen... and somehow linked to the 'foreign invaders' in our midst.

And for the record, I'm your classic Anglo-Scot-Irish mongrel 4th generation Aussie, so no, I'm not pushing any racial barrow here.

But I am deeply ashamed when I read posts like this one from Victor Young, shown in his facebook profile pic with a young child in his arms:

Victor Young wrote
at 10:02am
there's nothing wrong with the australian flag, if u dont like the flag fuck off to another country and ian i quote "But this 'fuck off we're full' attitude is deplorable, and to my eyes - extremely un-Australian", it's not deplorable, we r getting full of pricks that come here and cant even speak our language and the citizen test is a load of shit, if u cant speak english, Fuck off we're ARE full, there is only so many jobs at the 7-11's.

I'd suggest Victor that if you're typical of the type of person that flies the Australian flag on Australia Day, then leave me out of it. This is deep south US of A circa 1950 sorta language.

I'd go as far to say Victor, that if you can't write proper English, should u also fuck off?

Surely, of the 8,000 people in this group, the vast majority couldn't possibly share these views? Could they? At this stage, the silence is deafening.

I'm over the Aussie flag

2009-01-26T10:52:00.000+09:00

Is it just me, or was this Australia Day a virtual patchwork quilt of Aussie flags flying from every vehicular orifice available?

I spent the long weekend up at Lancelin, two hours north of Perth, and the number of flags rose proportionately with the number of dirt / quad bikes on the back of trailers hitched up to preposterously large SUVs.

Greath swathes of sand dune conquering machinery festooned with the Aussie flag were lined up at the back of the bakery, as singleted, sand blown occupants spilled forth like ants joining the queue for their meat pies and iced coffee.

I am SO over that bloody flag.

The only saving grace was not actually seeing anyone wearing it this year. But there were plenty of board shorts, hats, bikinis and YES, singlets adorned with the Union Jack and its little mate the Southern Cross to make up for it.

What is it with all this OTT patriotism? Good lord, there was even a young bloke in the weekend paper getting the Southern Cross tattooed across his torso.

Funny thing is, I don't actually know anyone who had a car flag, or any other flag for that matter. Despite the fact that in Lancelin - and no doubt across WA - there were at least three flags for every man, woman, child and dog.

Is the crowd I mix with un-Australian? Is the fact that we find all this nationalist fervour somewhat cringeworthy a bad thing? I suspect not. At least we weren't hitting each other over the head with beer bottles.

But what is un-Australian is the fact that my local butcher ran out of lamb chops! Sam Kekovich's head finally made its way into my subconscious and I took heed of his mantra only for my butcher to let the side - no, no, the country - down.

Then the Aussie cricket team posted an epic-fail to lose the current series 3-1 and all of a sudden I didn't know what country I was in. I had a chicken stir-fry and watched a French film on SBS.

I WILL take the Christmas tree down next weekend...

WA Monopoly champ 'fesses up

2009-01-19T17:03:00.003+09:00

In a move that has the online community tearing at its thinning hair and gnashing its collective teeth, The Perth Files can today announce that it has signed up the 2009 Western Australian Monopoly Champion to the team.

Yes, The Perth Files is now the unofficial (cause we like it like that) blog of choice for Graham 'The Marlborough Man' Mason - 6PR producer extraordinaire, Hawthorn FC fanatic, purveyor of fine wines and NOW, WA's very own Monopoly Champion for 2009.

We caught up with the King of Free Parking at his luxury games room retreat on the outskirts of Perth. Wearing a toga and grinning like he'd just had a touch up from big Buddy Franklin himself, Mason welcomed The Perth Files and our six pack of Emu Bitter with open arms.

So mate, let's not beat around the bush here, what's the most blatant cheat you’ve ever seen?

I must say as there were plenty of judges floating around at the WA state championships and plenty of eagle-eyed competitiors, I'm not sure that any cheating went on.

On a personal level, I have added the odd number to the dice when I have played against my kids for fear of being eliminated early. If they're not alert to it, then fair move, play on. Did I mention they're only eight? Also when controlling the bank, I may have slipped the odd extra $100 into my kick when passing 'Go'. But nothing major.

Does violence ever come into the game and describe the biggest pain in the arse player you've met?

No violence at the state champs, unfortunately. In my past I did once have an anger management issue and was guilty of kicking over the table in disgust on a couple of occassions. But after being hauled up before the Monopoly judiciary and being given a last chance reprimand I began to curb my ways.

I went for the subtle, less obvious stuff rather that the grandstanding trashing of the board style-gig.

There are small things you can do to unsettle opponents. Without giving too much away, one tactic is to throw the dice in an opponent's eye when it's your turn. A simple raised hand, 'sorry mate, it slipped' apology usually gets you off the hook. Just make out that you're Peter Sumich kicking at goal and you have no idea where the ball/dice is going to go. Hell, he made a career out of that.

Free parking cash bonus or no free parking?

I'm a traditionalist. Free parking is just that, free parking. No cash bonus. Same as in life.

--- at this point TPF throws a bottle cap at Mason and the term wanker may have been deployed. A return deployment of dice at speed draws blood ---

Can you play monopoly drunk?

I have played Monopoly after I have had a few and it is in a word, chaos. It simply becomes impossible to fathom monetary denominations and do simple mathematical equations.

Monopoly skulls was a big game at university. One of the dullest plays in Monopoly is when you land on your own property - nothing happens. So my uni buddy Otis and I instituted the shot of tequila for when you landed on your own property. No comment on what happened when you landed on the "Go directly to jail" square.

So what piece are you - I'm thinking Graham 'The Iron' Mason?

Not sure about Graham "the Iron" Mason although it is probably better than "The Thimble". I was thinking of "The Marlborough Man" in honour of my favourite property, Marlborough Street, on my favourite colour group - the orange set.

where did you hone your skills? The family holiday house during breaks in the Boxing Day test matches?

I've played Monopoly since I was about 7 and come from a big board game playing tradition. Board games over computer games, any day. School holidays were always massive for Monopoly. OK, so I didn't have much of a life!

Hawthorn is touring the Premiership Cup, if you win in Vegas, will you tour the Monopoly Cup? Is it a cup, or is it a racing car, or top hat perhaps?

Mate, if I win the Monopoly World Title, did I mention it is being held in Las Vegas (sorry, that's Vegas, baby, Vegas) I will be touring the cup everywhere.

The last Australian to win the world title was back in 1983 (also a Hawthorn premiership year I note). Not sure what the physical prize is, but there is a US$20,000 cheque and the way the $Aussie is behaving that may be a king's ransom come October.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I still have the nationals in Melbourne in March and has all sporting greats say, I'm just taking it one game at a time.

Is the missus concerned about Monopoly groupies - the Bond Street Babes or Whitehall Ho's for example?

The wife is pretty keen to accompany me to Melbourne for the nationals and I suspect you have hit the nail on the head, it is in fact to head off the groupies, or "Monopoly moles" as she calls them. Or it might just be the shopping, the latter I suspect. I don't know, what is the classic Monopoly pick-up line, "fancy coming back to my place?" All the better if it's Mayfair or Park Lane and not Old Kent Road. It's all about "location, location, location".

Can The Perth Files join you for an official training session and better still, can we host it in a pub?

More than happy to indulge The Perth Files in a Monopoly session. And obviously it would have to be in a pub. I'll put a call into Otis and bring back "The Monopoly Tequilla Sessions."

Thank you for your time Graham and mate, since I supplied the grog, any chance of whacking some party pies in the oven?

So there you go folks, he is da man. The Marlborough Man Mason will contest the Australian Championships in Melbourne shortly, atop of Bruno Grollo's mammoth Eureka Towers complex.

If you want to join The Perth Files for a sneak peak into the training techniques of this great man - and get on the turps - leave me a comment right here, or do not pass go...

Burn baby, burn!

2009-01-17T13:23:00.003+09:00

Standing in the backyard yesterday it was easy to think a storm was brewing. Thick, bulbous clouds massed around the city and a similar storm head was pushing high into the sky over the back of Osborne Park.

But they weren't clouds of course, they were thick plumes of smoke from fires raging in Kings Park and... well, I don't know exactly where the other fire was.

Further north another loose-head pyromaniac was fiddling about with the Red Head matches in the Yanchep National Park and down south the bush around Bridgetown was about to be torched.

With the temperature nudging 42 degrees celcius, it was odds on that the fire nuts would come out to play, particularly with the Sydney blazes featuring heavily in the news.

I'm told that a lot of fires are actually started by volunteer firies who are keen to see action, but that's not a path I want to go down. I've heard enough stories about walls of flame that charge down valleys like blazing tsunamis to know that it's a job only for those with the sizeable cojones.

Today it would seem that Kings Park is 'contained', albeit scarred and blackened across a wide area, but Yanchep and Bridgetown continue to burn. Smoke hangs heavy across a large part of WA, including the Perth suburbs where I'm at.

Right now I'm sitting here looking out across a Beijing-like skyline, wearing a shirt that's soaked up its own small part of the Kings Park smoke. I wonder if the foreshore ferris wheel kept turning during the fire? Seems almost perverse really to think that people were paying $15 a pop to watch the city's landmark burn, but hey, you gotta make your money where you can get it.

Take your flag and stick it!

2009-01-16T11:07:00.004+09:00

So here we go, another Australia Day around the corner and another 50,000 drunken yobs in boardshorts and Bintang singlets careening around draped in the national flag shouting, 'Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oy! Oy! Oy!'

Please, give me a break! I love living in this joint as much as the next bloke - unless he's the homeless person, in prison, or biding his time in a mouldy detention centre of course - but, enough with the nationalistic (is that a word?) flag waving fervour.

Wrapping the flag around your shoulders doesn't suddenly transform you from a boorish yob to one of our country's proud pioneers. It just makes you a nob. Pauline Hanson did it for fu&#@ sake and she's a ranga to boot!

And of course our esteemed newspaper has got in on the act and is selling the flag for $2 a pop. They even got Matt Rosa and Matt Pridis from the Eagles to help spruke the booty:

To help others get into the spirit of the day, The West Australian is offering readers the opportunity to grab an Australia Day flag for just $2. From tomorrow, readers can get their coupon in The West Australian and redeem it at participating newsagencies for a flag to wave at the fireworks or put on the car.

With only 50,000 flags on offer, Rosa said he wasn’t taking any chances. “I’m going to stick it on the car. It’s a really good idea,” he said.

Yep, only 50,000 - a nice $100,000 into The West's kitty, minus of course the cost of producing the flags. Made in China perhaps? Yeah, really good idea Matt.

These flags are of the really annoying variety that people clip to their car windows. 'Hello, yes, I'm an Australian and I have a friggen flag to prove it!'

Good lord people, you don't need to have the flag hanging from every orrifice to be a good Australian. We aren't Americans yet. And dare I ask what about the Aboriginal flag - where does that fit into the scheme of things?

Ah bugger it, pass me a beer and a burnt snag. Oy, fricken oy!

Will YOU be wearing the flag on Australia Day???

The last Bushism?

2009-01-13T22:27:00.002+09:00

In his second to last public address, George 'Dubbya' Bush has given us a Bushism to truly remember. "I think the American people have misunderestimated me..."

Yes George, I think they did. In fact, I think the whole world has misunderestimated you, but not to worry. Not long now and you'll be able to join JW Howard in retirement, roping a few steers and hanging out in your tassled chapps.

Thanks for the laughs and watch out for them spurs.

Your favourite Bushisms???

Perth International Beer Fest

2009-01-12T11:28:00.006+09:00

Great work from Stu at YelPar for this invigorating bitch about the Perth International Beer Fest over the weekend.

Of course, my good mate The Lazy Aussie thought it was a motza for The Worst of Perth as well. Truly a grand Worst - if the reports are correct.

I'm loving the fact that according to our spies, punters lined up for over an hour, only to line up again at one of the beer 'tents' to be handed a warm bottle of something not very exotic at all.

Indeed, one of my colleagues here in the Hub commented, "I didn't mind it, but that was because I was pissed when I got there. You'd have to be pissed to enjoy it".

Shame Perth, shame. I think you'd find a better time swigging a bottle of Stones Green Ginger wine on the Cottesloe foreshore, watching out for sharks. If the rozzers don't get you of course...

Six metre monster shark menaces Perth

2009-01-09T15:34:00.005+09:00

Yeah, it's the sort of headline that drags you in doesn't it? In a sense it's true - there probably is a six metre white pointer somewhere off the WA coast, maybe closer to Antarctica than Cottesloe Beach, but by god the bugger's out there... waiting for its chance to hit our shores, gnashing its teeth and snapping surf skis in half like, well, like... surf skis.

These monsters live in our heads and I dare any one of you to make the claim that you never ever think - just for a fraction of a second - that there might be a big Noah's Ark with your name on it just about to burst through the next wave.

Like most gen-Xers and probably most baby boomers, I live by a creed of 'never turn your back to the sea'. It's in those moments, no matter how brief, that something built like a combi van with dead black eyes and a mouth like a cave filled with razor sharp stallectites, will suddenly appear from the 'dark patch'.

You know the dark patch? It's that bit where you can no longer see the sandy bottom. That bit that you glimpse when you open your eyes under water only to see multitudes of shifty shadows darting your way. I steer clear of the dark water. I fancy that if that hungry behemoth crosses from dark to light, I'll at least have a couple of seconds on my side to churn my way to shore.

I've seen a shark or two in my life. I've even caught two small bronze whalers and eaten the proceeds, so I know there are family out there with a reason to want me chewed on.

In one trip to Esperance alone I saw the mo-fo of all great white fins breach the foreshore surface and cruise silently between me and about a dozen surfers before sliding under again. I didn't say a word.

The next day we watched two gents of southern European experience frolicking with a school of dolphins in a remote bay. "Come and see the dolphin - is swimming with us yes?" It was quite a sight to see how quickly two men can exit the water when they're told the dolphins are actually tiger sharks feeding on salmon. One of them kept swimming right up the slope of the granite rocks leading down to the bay. Blood everywhere!

But we all let our guards down at times, despite the clear and present danger that Jaws taught us was lurking EVERYWHERE.

I'll never forget the day I was surfing at Cottesloe, on the Leighton side of the groin (meant to throw in a testicular shrinkage pun here, but forgot - thanks for pointing out my 'groyne problems 'notallpoppies.com.au') very late in the day. My mate had gone in about 10 minutes earlier, but I just wanted to catch one more wave.

The water was dark and almost oily with a thick layer of weed that pulled at your legs and arms as you paddled. The light was almost gone, so I sat up on the board and swung around to the horizon to see if any small sets were coming through.

It was then that I heard a splash to one side. A loud slap on the surface.

I whipped around and could see that something had broken through the weed about a metre away. Too close, no matter what it was. I lay flat on the deck and reached in to start paddling.

Suddenly a black mass burst through the weed about three feet from my face.

It was a seal. A damned seal, that had my heart punching its way out of my wetsuit.

Jaws had been the first blow to my life as a part-time surfer and that seal was without doubt the mortal wound. I could never quite relax after that and if you can't relax while you're having a surf, then what is the point I ask?

These days I still love a dip in the briny and I know that my chances of being shark chum are very, very slim, but there's no escaping those nasty thoughts. And who could blame me right now with the sort of headlines and constant parade of sharkies we see in the media every second day?

And I know you're all suckers for a good shark tale, because in the past three weeks I must have had over 600 hits to this site thanks to Google searches on 'shark sightings in Perth'.

So now that you're here, tell me why? What is it about those beasties from the deep that float, ahem (sink) your boat? For now I'll keep one eye on the latest happenings and the other on the sea [cue Jaws soundtrack here...]

*VOTE IN THE TPF SHARL POLL TO YOUR RIGHT - yes, ----> THAT way!

Perth shark sightings - the real story

2009-01-05T11:18:00.008+09:00

I thought that since 80% of the traffic coming to this site was linked to Google searches for 'Perth shark sightings', it would be remiss of me not to add to the discussion.

What a lot of people don't know - and I probably shouldn't be divulging this sort of information online - is that we've seen an increasing number of large sharks off Perth beaches this summer for one simple reason - the Cottesloe pylon and its dramatic lean.

Yup, that leaning tower of cancer ridden concrete that sits in the middle of the Cottesloe Beach bay plays a far greater role in shark protection than anyone, particularly government, cares to admit.

You won't read about it in the history books, but that pylon actually contains some of the most radical technology to come out of Soviet Russia during World War II.

A chap by the name of Vladmir Solsvensky bought this particular technology with him when he landed on our shores in 1935. The device, about the size of a football with a long tubular antenae, was designed to cripple the radar systems of German U-Boats when they strayed within 5km. More importantly it jammed weapons systems, rendering submarines useless, and had an in-built power generation unit that ran on sea water... the technical details I can't explain.

And so Vladmir just happened to raise this technology with a local councillor from the Cottesloe region over a few Swan Lagers one evening and the rest, as they say, is history.

The councillor had the device installed into one of a number of pylons installed in 1936 that were supposed to be anchor points for a vast shark net in the bay. Of course, the central pylon containing the anti-sub device was the most highly fortified and the only structure to remain after a storm swept in and knocked all the others down.

This is where it gets really interesting...

While there were no submarines to repel, over the course of the next 12 months the local authorities and surf lifesaving patrols noted a distinct drop-off in the number of shark sitings off the coast of Perth, at Cottesloe and Swanbourne in particular.

Vladmir insisted that it was his device that was now working to scramble the sharks' radars and detering them from venturing too close to shore. Alas, the Russian died in 1938 and knowledge of his device went with him to his grave.

Only the original councillor now knew what was really in that pylon, but he dare not speak for fear of retribution at having installed the device in the first place.

Over the next 70 years the effects of weather, vandalism and human modification have seen the effectiveness of the anti-shark device slowly wane. In recent years, as the pylon took on its distinct lean, the signals have almost disappeared.

This summer alone we've had shark sitings on a daily basis, many of these creatures well over four metres in length.

To be honest, I don't know if the sharks really pose a threat to humans, but I reckon old Vladmir's invention has probably saved at least a few swimmers from a close encounter of the very worst kind.

Christmas Lunch in the Park

2008-12-28T15:03:00.005+09:00

Thanks to everyone who helped make this year's Mission Australia Christmas Lunch in the Park such a great day for the 1,400 men, women and children who came along.

It was my first 'CLIP' and it was a hectic few months in the lead-up to what is without doubt Australia's biggest charity Christmas lunch, but the end result is worth its weight in gold.

A big thanks to Nathan Morris from NOVA breakfast fame, who bought along his family while he did the MC gig and made everyone chuckle as they tucked into their turkey and ham lunches.

I'll be asking for your help again next year, so be ready folks. Numbers were down this year, probably as a result of the federal government's $1,000 bonus payments allowing many families to spend Christmas in their own homes, but I reckon next year is going to be the big test.

But for now, stay safe and have a very happy start to 2009. X

Men behaving badly - so what???

2008-12-22T12:27:00.004+09:00

C'mon folks

What's all the fuss over the Andrew O'Keefe 'Guttergate Affair' huh? Did he snort cocaine off a stripper's bare backside? Did he throw a shoe at Kevin Rudd and scream 'The honeymoon is over pal!' huh?

No, he did none of those things. Sure he got maggoted and crawled in a Chapel Street gutter. Yes, he talked crap about kiwi fruit farmers. Indeed, he used inappropriate language and fell into the arms of strange girls...

Wake up Australia, it's Christmas party time!!! The only thing he's done wrong is get caught on video. Nothing going on here that I haven't seen at plenty of end of year functions.

I think certain sections of the meedya ought to get over themselves before more 'blooper' tapes make an appearance! Either that, or Ben Cousins should do something really special like walk down the street, fart, or scratch his bits, cause then there'll be no room left on pages 1-10.

I bet you lovely readers out there - and I'm sure there are at least three - can tell me some better stories than that? C'mon, time to fess up now... or, do you have any other celeb behaving badly stories.

If you're lucky, I might just tell you about my trip to Rottnest with Kim Wilde. Merry Christmas folks and have a safe and happy New Year!!!!

Kiwi fizz THE best lemonade

2008-12-18T13:20:00.005+09:00

Those who know me will tell you that I'm not shy of a little Kiwi baiting, you know, the tasteful sheep shagging gags, having a guffaw about their funny little words like jandles, chilly bins (chully buns) and hokey pokey... all harmless stuff... suxty sux, hee hee...

But hey, Bro, things are slowly starting to turn around. I have a new found rispict for our island cousins and it's come in the form of a 330ml bottle of lemonade.

Dead set, I walked into an upmarket bottle-o the other day in search of a warm cask of Fruity Lexia, when I was struck by a sudden thirst of the tongue swelling variety. So what to have, I thought as my eyes gave the small soft drink cabinet the quick once up and down... and there it was, Phoenix Organic Lemonade - Naturally Bittersweet.

I grabbed a bottle and rolled it around in my hands checking out what I'd be getting for my $3.20 and there it was, 'proudly made in New Zealand'. A bloody import. Can't we make a half decent lemonade over here on the big island???

But bugger it, this dry as a dead dingo's donger situation was now beyond my control and this lemonade was going to be mine, import or not. Even the bloke behind the counter was talking it up.

And to be honest, it was CHOICE bro... the duck's nuts, the bee's knees, the dog's bollocks. It really WAS naturally bittersweet and yes, I could taste that natural cane sugar on the back of my tongue. Bliss.

I was hooked. So much so that after picking the young bloke up from school and giving him a taste test to confirm my miraculous discovery, I had to go back and procure a four pack.

After checking out the website I'm now craving more. That cola is calling my name and there's a whole bunch of fruity stuff I haven't even had time to consider.

I'm yet to find the Phoenix range anywhere else, hence, I will not divulge the source of my find right now... if you do find out, I will quite simply have to kill you - a 330ml bottle in the back of the bonce perhaps?

Oh, and I forgot all about that Fruity Lexia in the end...

Marketing heavyweights descend on Perth

2008-12-11T09:36:00.004+09:00

Perth is set to play host to the biggest marketing and business conference in the State’s history at the Australian Masters Marketing Summit 2009 (AMMS09). You can join the facebook group and stay up-to-date here.

AMMS09, the brainchild of Yellow Empire founder Peter Aleksander, will bring together 19 of the world’s most high profile marketing gurus for two days of education and insight on March 17 and 18 at the Sheraton Hotel.

The event was launched on 1 December, with Mr Aleksander outlining his thinking behind hosting such a large-scale, big name conference.

“This event was born out of a desire to bring the world’s heavy hitters in the marketing game to us – to make Perth the destination for a change and create an event that really is world class,” Mr Aleksander said.

“To that end I’ve secured industry leaders from around the globe, including the US, Asia, Europe, the UK and Australia, to share their expertise in an environment that encourages creativity and collaboration.

“At long last, Perth’s marketing, advertising, promotions and event management people will have access to the elite of their peer groups – the innovators of our generation - without having to travel across the country to do so.

“It’s a chance to tap into the latest trends, mind-sets, practises and strategies from the greatest minds representing the leading brands that shape the marketing world and its consumers,” he said.

Mr Aleksander said the goal of the conference was for delegates to leave “armed with an arsenal of new ideas, solutions and strategies that can be immediately built into marketing budgets to drive revenue growth in 2009”.

The event will provide valuable marketing information to a wide audience, providing beneficial tools to assist small and medium sized businesses through to national and international brands.

Early bird tickets are available until 19 December, with further details available at www.amms09.com.au

Speakers at AMMS09 include:

• Bernie Mullins Ph D, Director The Aspire Group and former CEO of Atlanta Hawks & Thrashers.
• Larry DeGaris Ph D, Director Sponsorship Strategy Indianapolis, USA.
• Rebekah Horne, General Manager Fox Media Interactive Europe; My Space.
• Ian Stewart, Senior Vice President MTV Asia.
• Michelle Pilot, Vice President of Marketing Lexus Group.
• Andrew Ciae, Director of Marketing Lexus Group.
• Ben Wicks, Director of Sponsorship Fosters Group.
• Sean Pickwell, Managing Director Waterfront Media.
• Tim Addington, Editor B&T Magazine.
• Gina Unwin, National Manager Brand & Sponsorship HSBC.
• Mike Wilson, Director Naked Communications.
• Annick Perrin, Client Services Manager ikon Communications.
• Brian Gallagher, CEO Full Circle Media.
• James Neale, Managing Director Traffic Marketing.
• Steve Fontanot, Senior Account Director Making Waves Australia.

NOVA crew wrapping for charity

2008-12-04T15:14:00.002+09:00

It was great to see Nathan and Cambo head down to Mission Australia's East Perth headquarters today to wrap a few presents in the lead up to Christmas Lunch in the Park.

There were lots of bright, shiny things to keep Nathan distracted and a large bunny that needed binding before he managed to seal it in its Christmas wrapping. Cambo, of course, chose a cricket bat to parcel up, then had a go at wrapping Nathan up in some stunning gold paper - he came up a treat.

We're looking for more volunteers to do their stint in Santa's special workshop, so if you have a spare hour to help out give Jan at Mission a call on 9225 0413.

What are you doing Christmas Day

2008-12-03T12:10:00.004+09:00

Mission Australia's Christmas Lunch in the Park provides a special day out for Perth's homeless and disadvantaged communities.

And this year we need your help to stump up the dollars to make it all happen and to lend us some of your time to come into the East Perth offices and help wrap presents - details below.

Now in its 33rd year, the annual lunch held at Wellington Square Park in East Perth looks set to attract a record attendance in 2008. Indeed, increasing financial pressures will see attendee numbers rise considerably at this year’s event, which plays host to between 1,500 and 1,800 people.

Those numbers to rise even more sharply in 2009 and beyond as the economic crisis bites deeper into the WA economy.

The good news for Mission Australia and the people who join us on Christmas Day is that the overwhelming generosity of the WA public during the 2007 appeal meant that we had almost enough gifts left over to cover this year’s event.

What that means is we can focus on raising the funds required to pay for the cost of hosting the lunch and start preparing for 2009. It might seem premature to be looking ahead to next Christmas, but we’re expecting there will be a lot more people needing our help in the year ahead.

We’re asking the WA public to help us today, to make sure that those in our community who are most in need don’t suffer even more tomorrow.

It’s really a matter of putting things into perspective – we all talk about the impact of a global financial crisis, but it’s worth remembering that for those that are homeless or disadvantaged, ‘doing it tough’ is a way of life every day of the year.

Many families are already in a position where they can’t provide a Christmas meal and presents for their children and for them it’s going to get even harder.

Christmas Lunch in the Park continues to be a key feature of Perth’s festive season, bringing companies and hundreds of volunteers and donors together to make sure Christmas is a special time for everyone.

It's both an important service and a social event for families and individuals whose lives have been affected by poverty, sudden illness, marriage breakdown, unemployment, drug and alcohol abuse or homelessness.

Perth’s biggest Christmas Day charity event provides a meal, presents, entertainment and companionship for Perth people and struggling families.

Financial donations are particularly important to help us run this event and the people of WA can get involved through donations or table sponsorships.

We’re also looking for individuals and corporate groups to spare some time to come into our offices to wrap gifts, from Monday December 1 until Friday December 19.

For enquiries regarding donations of money or gifts, please contact Mission Australia on 9225 0416 or email huigenss@missionaustralia.com.au. You can also make online donations quickly and easily by clicking HERE.

To volunteer to help wrap gifts, please call Jan Gilbert on 9225 0413 or email gilbertj@missionaustralia.com.au or me direct at john.cooke@ppr.com.au

I'll be there on the day, along with our very special MC Nathan from NOVA and his Mum and Dad - watch this space for the post-event piccies and PLEASE, do what you can to help.

Ralph Magazine botches boob job

2008-12-02T14:54:00.007+09:00

According to news.com.au, men's mag Ralph has managed to lose a couple of sea containers filled with plastic blow-up breasts.

The containers turned up dockside after an uneventful journey from Beijing, but were totally titless, with nary a nork in site.

Thinking that someone had made a boob of the job and maybe mixed up the bevy of bazoombas with a shipment of floaties or inflatable air matresses, they went back to the shipping company with a big WTF?

As we speak, no one has yet been able to put a finger on the culprits, although the renegade terrorist group Benny Hill Jihad Alliance has claimed responsibility in a letter to 'Jugs Ahoy Magazine'.

In the meantime, Ralph Magazine is fast approaching deadline and looking at alternatives for its blow-up boob promotion. "Unfortunately, it looks like being a Christmas without many happy mammaries," a spokesperson said.

Australia the movie - what you don't know

2008-11-18T22:40:00.000+09:00

To be honest, I've never been a big fan of the big screen period drama, particularly when there's a faint whiff of Mills & Boon romance mixed in with the gumleaves, billy tea and horse poo.

It's the reason why I've never seen that over-salted, soggy sea cracker Titanic and probably never will. Too much schmaltz and seaweed makes for a nasty stink in my books.

But Baz Luhrmann's Australia is an Aussie classic, maaate! It's got Our Nic and Big Bad Hughie Jackman running around this vast bloody Western Australian bushland half naked, it's got war, it's got weird references to the Wizard of Oz and it's got REAL indigenous Australians in the cast.

God damn, it's the film that's supposed to stab Crocodile Dundee to death with its own hunting knife and bury the carcas under a rotting log never to cast its shadow across the oz-stereotype again.

Okay, sooooo...

Sifting through all the hype, to my eyes Australia was looking about as authentic-oz as a smear of Marmite on a piece of German rye. A few roos short of a top paddock.

But that was until I came across - let's call him David - an Aboriginal bloke and his wife hanging around to one side of a Western Force sponsorship announcement at Ronald McDonald House in Subiaco.

"David worked on that film Australia," someone whispered.

I wandered over and introduced myself, asking what he worked on during the project. 'David' explained that Baz had employed him to ensure the authenticity of the Aboriginal language captured on film.

"It was lucky," he said. "If they'd filmed a few kilometres further north it would have been another language spoken in that country and someone else would have got the job."

David had just got back to the Kimberley after a couple of weeks post-production work in Sydney. He and his wife had bought their son down for treatment at Princess Margaret Hospital and were staying at Ronald McDonald House while they were in town.

"Don't like this cold weather," he said with a rue smile.

To him the work was no big deal. He was just a bloke from the Kimberley who was lucky enough to land a job with a pretty big film that rolled into his corner of this vast continent. His son also managed to land work as a stand-in actor to one of the lead cast members.

It was after this meeting that I decided that yes, I would go and see Australia at the cinema and add my few dollars to the gross ticket sales that determine the success or failure of a film.

If Baz was prepared to go to such lengths to ensure the authenticity of the Aboriginal language spoken in that particular area of Western Australia where the film was shot, then he's got my two thumbs-up.

I might still walk away less than moved, but that sort of attention to detail deserves respect, maaate!

Groove on the Green

2008-11-15T14:28:00.006+09:00

Lawn bowls is my kind of sport. You can kick your shoes off, have a few lazy ales and roll a few bowls down without too much fear of breaking into a sweat.

And now the North Fremantle Centre, home of the Magpies, has pumped up the cool factor to 11, with its Sunday Groove on the Green sessions.

Not only can you indulge in barefoot bowls and the finest liquor available to mankind, you can also enjoy live music with an open mic session taking place from 2.00 - 7.00pm... whenever the groove grinds to a halt. Oh, and there's a barbecue in action as well to keep the tastebuds happy.

Now if you've read my previous post about the NFC, you'll know that it's seriously retro and The Perth Files (TPF) just LOVES retro, almost as much as a cold beer.

Best of all, there's a serious TPF link here, with Cookster Senior (my Fremantle correspondent) the man behind the plan and behind the bar.

Join my facebook group Friends of North Fremantle Bowling Club for news of The Perth Files 4th Birthday Bash in 2009.

The club is located on Stirling Hwy, North Fremantle - on the left as you head towards the 'new' bridge.

See you on the green groovers!

Help out the kids tomorrow

2008-11-14T09:36:00.004+09:00

Well, tomorrow is McHappy Day and if you've ever wondered what this fundraiser supported by - love 'em or hate 'em - McDonald's actually does, then I'd suggest you take a couple of minutes to watch this video.

This footage was shot just two weeks ago at Ronald McDonald House in Subiaco. I've met these kids, I've met their families and I hope that you'll want to help them as much as I do.

Tomorrow, 15 November, you can choose to buy a Big Mac, you can buy a Crazy Straw, a box of Byron Bay Cookies, a McHappy Meal, or just throw some coins into the bucket.

There are plenty of ways you can pitch in, so go on, even if you're a rabid member of the Young Socialist Alliance who thinks our clown Ronald is the spawn of Satan (trust me, he's not), hang up your hang-ups for one day and 'help teh kideez'.

The Obama victory - from the inside looking out

2008-11-09T10:15:00.001+09:00

Barack Obama may well be the President elect of the United States of America, but a quick Google search shows that in the online world, we're talking about the importance of this event on a global scale.

Maybe it's because we're all running scared? Maybe it's because at this time in world history it's no longer fun to have a clown in the White House, a good 'ol boy who can't grasp third grade linguistics. This shit has hit the world economics fan, the globe is combusting and no one seems to have a hand on the steering wheel.

To use a line from the Aussie 80s flick 'Going Down', 'This is a dog eat dog world and from where I'm standing, there's not enough dog to go around.'

We need a WORLD leader and maybe Barack Obama is that man? Someone who can cut through all the crap and actually inspire people to bring about real change in the world? As bitter and cynical about world politics as I am, I could use a fix of that right now.

And that brings me to the main event of this post - the thoughts and reasonings of a man who worked as a volunteer on the Obama campaign. What the hell drove Scott Barman, a coin collecting 40-something guy from Washington DC to say, 'You know what, this Obama character looks the real deal and I'm gonna help him to get elected as the next President of the USA'. What indeed, read on...

Next stop, 'HOPE' - Scott Barman

Where did we go right? What made us do it? What happened after eight years of a president whose popularity is the lowest since the 1970s, what made a country with years of racial and cultural divides elect someone other than a white man as president?

HOPE!

We hope that this man with a funny name and does not look like the presidents on the dollar bills will be as cool and calm under fire as he showed during this grueling campaign to lead the United States back from our last eight years.

It is that hope and watching him deflect the attacks against him that prompted me, a middle-aged white guy born in New York living in the Washington, DC-area to support this man.

I have always been a political junkie. Aside from reading as many newspapers as I could acquire, I would watch the Sunday morning talk shows as religiously as some watch entertainment television. But up until now, I had not become involved in the election process. I had never donated money to a campaign. Sure, I attended city and county council meetings, I wrote to legislators, and signed petitions. I also volunteer to help cancer-related charities in their lobbying efforts to ensure funding for related healthcare and research. But I never worked with a campaign.

After having knee surgery on an arthritic knee, I was contacted by a phone bank worker in the Obama for President office in Bethesda, Maryland. Since I had donated money, I was on "the list." The woman was very nice to me and asked if I could help with my time. Since I am still recovering from my surgery, she suggested that I come into the office and call others. I agreed.

My first day on this job was the Saturday after the second debate. I was brought to a computer, logged in to a secure website, handed a script, and started calling. I personalized the script a bit, added more of my personality, made it sound more exciting, and I called other Obama supporters.

I never asked for money. I asked for help. I asked if they would join groups of people who would knock on doors in Northern Virginia, just over the border, to gain additional support. That was important since Virginia is a battleground state and the more votes the better the chance that Obama could win the electoral votes from a traditional Republican state.

If the person at the other end of the phone was physically challenged or were afraid to do the canvassing, they could volunteer to call others, like I was doing. With very limited exceptions, the people I spoke with that day were excited to hear from me. Even though I signed up only one person, it was infectious. So I volunteered again.

As the election approached, the script changed and the calling region widened. First, I was calling people in Northern Virginia asking if they could canvas in other parts of the state. I made arrangements for dozens of people to meet other Obama supporters in targeted areas of Virginia so they could knock on doors to spread the word. Then it was other states. I called quite a few people in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Iowa, and Florida asking for support.

I missed the final weekend of calling to pick up a new puppy (see http://coinsblog.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-acquisition.html), but on Monday, the calls were to all over the country reminding people to vote. No more volunteering was necessary. We just wanted to remind people to vote. After the previous two election and the dirty tricks by the Republican Party, the only way to combat that was to win decisively.

Most of us were confidently nervous. Confidence came from the polls showing Obama winning. Nervous because we remember the polls showing John Kerry winning before the 2004 election and what happened in 2000.

But the trends in the polls were in Obama's favor and all we could do was let the process continue.

I attended a private election party on the big night. We watched as the results were being announced. Results were announced slowly. As the polls closed in each state, both candidates were "holding serve", winning the states they expected to win. Then came Indiana, analyzing the county-by-county count and showing how Obama was doing well.

Pennsylvania went to Obama, which was expected, but it was announced that Virginia was leaning to Obama. So was Florida, which was not expected. Then it was very close in North Carolina--too close to call.

The Rust Belt states of Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota were called for Obama and the excitement started to build. With Pennsylvania and Ohio going to Obama, McCain had to run the table. We were optimistic but still nervous.

Obama captured New Mexico and Colorado during the ten o'clock hour.
Indiana was trending to Obama. Virginia and North Carolina was too close to call. Florida is... well... Florida as it was announced there were problems in the southeastern part of the state.

It was 11 PM, the polls closed on the west coast. California, Oregon, and Washington represent 73 electoral votes. With 270 needed to win, Obama was projected to already have over 200 at the top of the hour. But it wasn't over until the electoral counter eclipsed 270 votes.

The announcement came: "NBC News projects that Barack Obama will be the next president of the United States."

As the picture on the television switched to Grant Park in Chicago, the scene of violent protests during the 1968 Democratic National Convention, it was a sea of jubilation.

Ten minutes later, the Commonwealth of Virginia was called for Obama.
For those of us who worked the phones and those who went door-to-door campaigning, it was a satisfying victory.

Our party broke up at 11:30. While we wanted to celebrate, it was time for sleep so we could return to our jobs in the morning.

It was a great experience. I do not know if I would do it again, but I thought it was necessary for this candidate and for this election.

President-elect Barack Obama will be inaugurated on January 20, 2009.
I cannot wait!

Inside the Obama camp

2008-11-07T16:16:00.002+09:00

Be sure and listen to a live interview at 7.15am tomorrow morning with Obama campaign headquarters volunteer and avid coin collector, Scott Barman from Washington DC.

Scott is soon to provide a campaign blog for The Perth Files, but in the meantime I've arranged for him to speak with the presenter of 720 ABC Saturday Breakfast, James Lush, to discuss what the campaign and - ultimately - the sweet taste of victory was like for someone on the inside.

Remember to share your comments about what Obama's victory means to you.

Can we fix it America?

2008-11-05T15:01:00.010+09:00

UPDATE: please leave a brief comment telling me what you felt when Obama took to the the stage to accept victory - and pass this link on to your friends to do the same!

YES THEY CAN!!! There was a touch of the Bob the Builders about Barack Obama's victory speech today and lord knows, he's going to need all the help he can get with the grizzled shell of a country he's been handed the reigns to lead.

I'll never forget the fact that I heard the speech while sitting in my car in the rain eating hot chips and gravy... hell, an event like this screamed out for comfort food.

Now that Dubbya's been told not to let the door hit him on the arse on the way out and John McCain can lay off the Red Bull, might we see another era of sanity prevail in the US?

I got the fear today when I heard an interview with Sarah Palin as she exited a polling booth and refused to say who she voted for... 'That's the neat thing about this country'.

Just have a good look at this video of the Hockey Mom and ask yourself just how safe the world would have been with this halfwit in charge?

But Barack Obama, can he fix it?
Barack Obama, oh yes, it appears he can.

Was it just me, or did this election result have a far more profound impact than anything that has happened in world politics in the past 50 years? How many of you shed a tear? How many kissed and hugged your partners and kids? Fired off text messages or twittered through the whole process?

Where were you when Obama strode on stage to accept victory and what was your reaction?

Daylight saving zombies - part III

2008-10-31T14:15:00.004+09:00

I had struggled under the weight of serious octopus induced hallucinations thanks to the workings of Teh 'Rage Cohen, only to find myself standing alone before the thrashing sea on the North Mole in old Fremantle Town.

The smell of sardines and diesel hung heavy in the air.

The weariness had set in and my limbs were savaged by the winds like poorly secured corflute signage at a corporate land sale.

In the distance I could see a vehicle painted in stripes, like a tiger - or was it flames? - but there was no sign of the barge and no sign of The Worst of Perth car and its rummy occupants, The Lazy Aussie, Skink and Frank.

I can't tell you precisely what happened next, except to say that a large hypodermic was thrust into my neck and the last sounds I heard were a cackling laugh carried on a Sambuca breath, breathing out the words, 'Say hello to the She-Ra from us...'

This sordid account of the dream state that followed comes from the foetid pen of none other than The Lazy Aussie, who truly does know The Worst of Perth... (language warning!)

'Picture if you can Cookster', said Rolly, struggling to remove his boot, 'A man driven by blind stupidity. A man whose spiritual blinds hang faded in tattered strips like Bodz Tanning Salon. A man whose cow of the soul has udders distended hideously like an inflated rubber glove...'

Cookster snickered. 'Like, five versions of Tiny Pinders knob?'

Rolly paused a moment in the struggle to remove his boot. 'If you prefer. Now imagine if that glove was expecting to be inflated beyond the physical limits of the structure of the fabric at a particular time?' With a tremendous effort Rolly's boot flies off.

'Im not with you', said Cookster.

'OK, let me put it this way', said Rolly, fishing an imaginary stone from the toe. 'Imagine if those five Pinder knobs were expecting relief at a particular time, say after a Wildcats game, and then they were told they wouldnt get that relief until an hour later?'

'Told? So you'd be talking into Tiny's knob?'

'Tap tap, is this thing working?'

'Just forget Pinder's cock!' snapped Rolly.

'But you said...'

'Never mind what I said. You're in PR right?'

'Yes. A house is not a home.'

'In that case, let me put it into words you can understand. C#@t kini.'

'Ahh. OK. Right.'

'With daylight saving, the c#@t kinis hanging in Stripper's World window would fade much faster," Rolly explained.

'Dont you think you're moving too fast to the punch line in this dialogue?' said Cookster. 'Shouldn't there be more Pinder cock talk?'

'No', said Rolly. 'I have to go to the toilet. Wine exhausted.'

To be continued...

Buggy challenge launches Handa Open

2008-10-30T15:34:00.003+09:00

This morning's launch of the Handa Open golf tournament at the Fleet Steps in Sydney's Royal Botanic Gardens saw four of the game's Legends battling it out in a Golf Buggy Challenge.

With a grey looking Opera House and Harbour Bridge for a backdrop, Stewart Ginn, David Merriman, Terry Gale and Handa Open defending Champion Wayne Grady, put the pedal to the metal in an epic challenge...

Okay, maybe not epic, but with Merriman only missing out on last year's largish purse due to a caddy mistake - let's not go there - any chance to get one over Grady was taken with relish.

Golf fans can catch this fearsome foursome and a whole host of other golfing greats in the Handa Open being played at the Concord Golf Club from Friday, 31 October to Sunday, 2 November. Entry is by gold coin donation.

Daylight saving zombies - part II

2008-10-30T13:55:00.004+09:00

The story continues, as told by the Herring affected, but often brilliant scribe David 'Teh Rage' Cohen, author of Rottobloggo: To make sense of the many non-sensical references - of the non literary variety that is - you'll need to visit The Worst of Perth... for herein doth the secret lie...

It was a dark and stormy evening; the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in Fremantle that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the scented candles that struggled against the darkness.

Through one of the obscurest quarters of the beautiful port city, and among haunts little loved by the gentlemen and women of the police, a man, evidently from the distant suburb of Floreat, was wending his solitary way. He stopped twice or thrice at different bong shops and houses of a description correspondent with the appearance of the quartier in which they were situated,--and tended inquiry for some article or another which did not seem easily to be met with. All the answers he received were couched in the negative ("F#@k off", were the plain'tive cries); and as he turned from each door he muttered to himself, in no very elegant phraseology, his disappointment and discontent: "C#*ts".

At length, at one house, the landlord, a sturdy sniper, after rendering the same reply the inquirer had hitherto received, added,--"But if this vill do as vell, Cookie, it is quite at your sarvice!" Pausing reflectively for a moment, Cookie responded, that he thought the thing proffered might do as well; and thrusting it into his ample pocket he strode away with as rapid a motion as the wind and rain would allow. He soon came to a nest of low and dingy buildings, at the entrance to which, in half-effaced characters was written "Fremantle Markets." Having at the most conspicuous of these buildings, a boutique brewery or fusion-food restaurant through the half-closed windows of which blazed out in ruddy comfort the beams of the hospitable hearth, he knocked hastily at the door. He was admitted by a lady of a certain age, and endowed with a comely rotundity of face and person.

"Hast got it, Cookie?" said she quickly, as she closed the door on the guest.

"Noa, noa! not exactly--but as I thinks as ow . . ."

"Pish off, you fool!" cried the woman interrupting him, peevishly. "Vy, it is no use desaving me. You knows you has only stepped from my boosing ken to another, and you has not been arter the book at all. So there's the poor cretur a-raving and a-dying, and you . . ."

"Let I speak!" interrupted Cookie in his turn. "I tells you I vent first to Poor Lisa’s, who, I knows, chops the whiners morning and evening to the young ladies, and I axes there for a rocket-propelled grenade launcher, and she says, says she, 'I 'as only nunchuks but you'll get a RPG, I thinks, as Bedford Crackpot’s,--the deranged, as we knows.' So I goes to Bedford’s, and he says, says he, 'I 'as no call for weapons--'cause vy?--I 'as a call vithout; but mayhap you'll be a-getting it at the bong shop hover the vay,--'cause vy?--the bong seller’ll be damned!" So I goes hover the vay, and the bong retailer says, says he, 'I 'as not a RPG: but I 'as a dirty bomb laced with canola, and mayhap the poor creturs mayn't see the difference.' So I takes the dirty bomb, Mrs. Poor Lisa, and here they be surely!--and how's poor Lazy Aussie?"

"Fearsomo! Men are beasts! He'll not be over the night, I'm a-athinking."

"Vell, I'll track up the ammo!"

So saying, Cookie ascended a doorless staircase, across the entrance of which a chunk of corflute, stretched angularly from the wall to the chimney, afforded a kind of screen; and presently he stood within a chamber, which the dark and painful genius of the bloke who painted the pic of the kneeling woman and the Alsation might have delighted to portray. The walls were white-washed, and at sundry places strange figures and grotesque characters had been traced in burnt orange by some mirthful inmate, in such sable outline as the end of a smoked herring stick or the edge of a piece of charcoal is wont to produce. The wan and flickering light afforded by a farting candle gave a sort of grimness and menace to these achievements of pictorial art, especially as they more than once received embellishment from portraits of Brendon Grylls, such as he is accustomed to be drawn. A low fire burned gloomily in a sooty grate; and on the hob hissed "the still small voice" of a kick-arse pan of mandrax. On a round deal-table were two vials, a cracked cup, a broken spoon of some dull metal, and upon two or three mutilated chairs were scattered various articles of female attire. On another table, placed below a high, narrow, shutterless casement (athwart which, instead of a curtain, bloodied mayoral chains had been loosely hung, and now waved fitfully to and fro in the gusts of wind that made easy ingress through many a chink and cranny), were a looking glass, sundry appliances of the toilet, a box of cricketers’ boxes, a few ornaments of more show than value; and a watch, the regular and calm click of which produced that indescribably painful feeling which, we fear, many of our readers who have heard the ravings of the Daylight Savings Murder Posse can easily recall.

To be continued...

Daylight saving zombies attack!

2008-10-27T22:25:00.001+09:00

It happened on Sunday morning. The world as we knew it was gone and a dark pall had fallen over suburbia like a blanket over a bird cage.

I stumbled outside to find out where the sun had gone. Yes it was morning, but the harsh glare that would normally prise my lids asunder and prod the sleeping baby until he screamed for his bottle was curiously missing. It had shrunk away and was hiding in the shadows like a dog licking its wounds.

But I had been tricked before. The cunning beast which is the coming of day in Western Australia does not suffer fools gladly. It will tear the eyes from your very sockets and sear your flesh before you have time to mutter, 'where is the 30+?'

I donned my glasses and faux-quokka baseball cap, put the poodle on a leash and ventured into the street. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Sensing danger I grabbed a five iron from the garage and wrapped the dog's leash tighter around my wrist. I was like Will Smith in that awful armageddon movie set in New York, except instead of an alsation and a pump action shotgun, I had a yappy poodle and a golf club.

The cause of my paranoia became evident immediately. It was pre-empted by a wailing sound, followed by large groups of people floundering about and clawing at their eyes, shouting, 'I can't see', 'Who turned out the lights?' 'Oh my Lord, why hast thou forsaken me?'

They appeared to be blinded, unable to see where they were going... staggering on hands and knees, or scuttling along crab-like, bouncing off trees, tripping on gutters. Joggers, dog walkers, retirees and empty nesters with nothing better to do. Individuals, some gathered in groups, others dragged by pets.

I grabbed a flannel-hatted senior by the collar of his cardigan and demanded he tell me what had caused this nightmare vision before me. 'Tell me old man or you shall feel the blunt end of my Ping!'

He cowered in fear, his eyeballs rolling back into his emaciated skull. His lips trembled. 'Don't you know? Don't you see what they have done? They have taken away our light... our shining beacon. Without it we are doomed. Doomed to wander the early morning streets as the daylight saving damned - wretched, sightless, aimless beasts.'

I threw him into the undergrowth in disgust. 'Get a grip man! The day is here - look around you... is this not light enough for you?'

But it was too late, he had stumbled into the path of oncoming traffic and disappeared in a puff of brown woollen fibres.

'You've had it too good for too long!' I screamed at them. 'You must adjust to the light and learn that you don't need to eat dinner at 5.00pm and be in bed before the final sirens sound on the closing credits of The Bill!

'There is life after Parkinson. It's okay to stay in bed until 6.00am! There is NOTHING to fear...'

But again, too late. Blind eyes and deaf ears. Rather than embrace the change they gathered in even tighter groups, huddled around radios sharing mobile phones to call talkback radio and wail down the line to Hutchison and Beaumont - whoever was willing to listen.

And in time the savagery began. Within days these rabid packs would begin wandering the early morning streets in search of the 'Savers', chanting 'Death to the Twilight' and offering up sacrafices to the 'God of Early Morning Walks'.

Meanwhile, on Rottnest Island, David 'Teh Outrage' Cohen was mobilising forces to take out these vast zombie hoards, but there was much planning to be done. He rolled his first herring spliff of the day, kicked off his deck shoes and leaned back to look out across Thompson Bay to the mainland beyond.

'You f*#kers shall rue the day...'

As the blue smoke curled languidly across the room to join the sea breeze snaking across the salt lakes, making music in the pines, he eyed the cream bun in the pantry and punched 1300-COOKSTER into the Nokia.

'Teh Rage here Cookster. The barge will meet you at the North Mole at 6.30pm once the zombies are safely in bed. You bring the golf clubs and I'll supply the octopus. Tell The Lazy Aussie to pick up Skink and Frank in The Worst of Perth Combi on the way - I have a plan.'

...to be continued.

Shit service...

2008-10-27T14:55:00.004+09:00

Okay, okay, I'm sorry, but something stinks about this whole 'turd in the icecream' drama that took place at the Coogee Bay Hotel.

Check out this footage of Jessica and Steve Whyte discussing the incident and look out for the bit where she starts talking about trying to beat the kids to the hard chocolate layer at the bottom, only to find out "Oh my god, they've served me shit!"

I dare you to watch this footage and maintain a straight face when Steve describes how he took the bowl to the maitre'd and said, "excuse me, but you've served us shit... yes, that's the word I used."

And the copper who tells them, "that smells like baby shit" ["baby poo" - steve interjects] only for Jessica to add, "... he obviously doesn't have kids because that wasn't baby shit."

Also a rib tickler is the "middle child" abusing the staff and running around screaming, "you fed my Mummy poo!" Is this some kind of reality TV stunt?

It's appalling, no doubt about it, but it's the Whyte's last comments about how "we didn't complain that much" which suggests the frozen faeces fiasco took place after some kind of incident with staff.

Now we've all heard the horror stories about what staff do with your food when you complain, and while I don't suggest for a minute that this was retribution by an aggrieved staff member, you can imagine someone thinking that a 'complimentary' bowl of poo icecream would be a pretty darned effective payback.

The clincher would be if they were the Brown family, rather than the Whytes.

Be interesting to see how this one plays out, but I've heard the government has called for a probe. No, seriously.

A bath, 756 balls and a semi-naked golfer

2008-10-24T14:02:00.007+08:00

Phew! One of the most challenging launch events I've held to date has just come to a succesful end, despite the 1,100 golf balls we ordered ending up in Queensland (instead of Nedlands), the weather turning nasty and much angst over the arrival of a claw footed bathtub...

Yes indeed, it's all well and good to be creative, but until the fat's in the fire and the media throng are within touching distance, the lead up to these events builds a level of anxiety that I imagine only John McCain could understand... okay, maybe not that bad, but enough to promote hair loss!!!

Today at 10.30am we unveiled a claw foot bath filled with hundreds of golf balls and one of the most vivacious and talented young golfers on the Australian women’s tour.

It was all in aid of launching the Handa Australia Cup golf tournament at Nedlands Golf Club, along with the public unveiling of the 2009 Australian Women of Professional Golf Calendar.

This year's calendar features a reproduced image of original calendar girl, Australian golfing legend and 2007 Handa Australia Cup champion Jan Stephenson, in her famous ‘bath full of golf balls’ shot from 1986. The 2009 edition pays tribute to Stephenson and four generations of women golfers participating in the calendar project this year.

To bring that image to life and in line with the Handa Australia Cup theme of ‘Joining the Generations’, young golfer Danielle Montgomery jumped into the bathtub, while Jan Stephenson reminisced about her time in the tub - complete with a frank discussion about her 'nipple covers'.

Also on hand at the launch were legends Peter Senior, Pat Bradley, Stewart Ginn, Terry Gale, Ossie Moore and Rodger Davis, who you can catch in action this Saturday and Sunday 25 and 26 October.

The $100,000 Handa Australia Cup is the world’s only golf tournament to feature male and female golfing legends playing alongside the next generation of golfing stars, including the leading junior boy and girl from each state. It is also the only competition where male and female golfers compete for the same trophy.

The competition was founded by Japanese businessman and philanthropist Haruhisa Handa, who is also the Honorary Patron of the International Blind Golf Association.

*Images courtesy of Natalee Fuhrmann

Legends of golf return to Perth

2008-10-22T17:01:00.003+08:00

A release I prepared this week to announce the Handa Australia Cup golf tournament to be held this weekend 25 - 26 October at Nedlands Golf Club.

The launch event will be a corker - we're recreating the famous Jan Stephenson bathtub shot by putting talented young golfer Danielle Montgomery in a bath kindly supplied by Reece and topping it up with 1,100 golf balls.

If that aint worth a 30 second slot in the sports news, I don't know what is!

Legends of international golf, including Ian Baker-Finch, Jan Stephenson and Peter Senior, have gathered in Perth for the Handa Australia Cup at Nedlands Golf Club this weekend, Saturday 25 and Sunday 26 October 2008.

The Handa Australia Cup is the world’s only golf tournament to feature male and female golfing legends playing alongside the next generation of golfing stars, including the leading junior boy and girl from each state. It is also one of only two competitions where male and female golfers compete for the same trophy.

The competition was founded by Japanese businessman and philanthropist Haruhisa Handa, who is also the Honorary Patron of the International Blind Golf Association.

“The Handa Australia Cup is about joining the generations – bringing together rising stars and past champions in one unique tournament,” Dr Handa explained.

Players confirmed to date include Ian Baker-Finch, defending Champion Jan Stephenson, Peter Senior, Pat Bradley, Stewart Ginn, Terry Gale, Ossie Moore, Cindy Rarick, Rodger Davis, Michael Clayton, Bob Shearer, Mike Harwood and many more.

Last year’s Handa Australia Cup marked the return to professional tournament golf for Ian Baker-Finch after a five year break. “Ian’s successful return to professional golf last year has raised the profile of the tournament and created a lot of excitement in golfing circles both here and overseas,” said Tournament Chairman Wayne Smith.

Now in its third year, the 36 hole event was preceded by a combined Pro Am on Friday, 24 October with the Australian Blind Golf Championship – Australian Open tournament from Wednesday 22 to Thursday 23 October.

The purse for the senior men and women professionals will be AU$100,000. This is the second largest senior purse in Australia, surpassed only by the Handa Open to be played the following week at Concord Golf Club in Sydney.

Spectators for the Handa Australia Cup are welcome and entry is free. For further information contact Event Manager Gemma Liddelow at Vault Sports Management: gemma.liddelow@vaultsm.com or (08) 9380 6978

What: Handa Australia Cup
Where: Nedlands Golf Club, Melvista Avenue, Nedlands
When: Saturday 25 and Sunday 26 October 2008 – daily tee off will commence at approximately 10.30am. The Pro-Am on Friday 24 October will have a shot gun start at 12.00pm.

Free WiFi at McDonald's Australia

2008-10-22T10:31:00.005+08:00

Some good news that I know many of my geek friends will enjoy. Now you can haz wireless internet connection at McDonald's AND enjoy a Rainforest Alliance Certified Coffee at the same time!

In fact, leave me a comment below, email, or DM me at twitter and I'll even line up some free coffee vouchers for the first 50 respondents (or is that respondees... hmmm, crap word either way, but I'm too busy to care!!).

* Only down side is that the WA roll out won't take place until Feb 09... but as the shampoo commercial states, 'It won't happen overnight, but it will happen!'

Tuesday October 21, 2008

McDonald’s enables customers to roam free

McDonald’s Australia today announced its plans to roll out free wireless high speed broadband internet access to 720 restaurants, making it the biggest provider of free WiFi in Australia.

McDonald’s Australia has partnered with Telstra, the country’s leading telecommunications carrier to offer the free service over Telstra’s Next IP™ network. The staged roll out is expected to be completed by March 2009.

Free WiFi will benefit a broad range of McDonald’s Australia customers, including business people on the move to those wanting to take time out at the weekend to catch up on the latest news or music downloads over breakfast.

In fact a regular hotspot user who pays to log on for an hour a week could save as much as $728 per year on premium WiFi charges by using the McDonald’s Australia free service.

McDonald’s Australia CIO, Henry Shiner, said this new technology will enable our customers to work online using their own laptop, personal digital assistant (PDA), mobile phone or games console at any McDonald’s restaurant.

“Many of our customers are looking to access the internet on the move and we see this partnership with Telstra as leading the way and providing a free and convenient service to further enhance our customers’ restaurant experience.”

“The internet continues to play a larger role in our everyday lives and access to the Internet continues to drive people to seek that opportunity to go online while away from their offices and homes,” Mr Shiner added.

Mr Shiner also explained the additional benefits available with the new service.
“The installation of the Telstra’s Next IP network will mean our staff will be able to access for business applications such as access to training programs and other online information,” Mr Shiner said.

The partnership between Telstra and McDonald’s Australia will ultimately give free wireless broadband Internet access to customers at 720 premium locations Australia-wide.

US Kath & Kim

2008-10-11T10:14:00.003+08:00

Okay, so the US version of Kath & Kim has rated well, but then having it sandwiched inbetween My Name is Earl and the US version of The Office is always going to get you a crowd - at least once, maybe twice.

And while US film and TV critics carry about as much weight as Michael Jackson as the CEO of The Office of Child Protection, by all accounts and from what I've seen, this concept hasn't travelled well. Indeed, instead of making it to the east coast of the USA, it would appear that USK&K has struggled to make it much further than Kuta beach before nosediving faster that a Qantas airbus.

I'll have to wait until I see the real deal play out in a full length episode, but to be frank, the greatest appeal of Kath & Kim has been its unique look at Australian life in the burbs - our bogan heartland, with the Kel and his chiploata puns, to Kimmy and her CHARdonnay linguistics.

I think the fact that Americans are unable to digest or appreciate humour from beyond their own border - hello Sarah Palin! - is probably enough to see any translation of Kath & Kim struggle. The only glimmer of hope is that while the yanks really, really don't like to laugh about themselves, My Name is Earl has been succesful in doing just that...

Is the US getting themselves a sense of humour? Christ knows that having figures such as the Bush father and son team, Arnie and Sarah Palin in public office, maybe the joke's really on us?

Last orders please...

2008-10-08T15:04:00.004+08:00

Hi folks… I might be an annoying and persistent prick – some would say a dog with a bone – but I’m dressing up like a day-glo remnant from a Happy Mondays gig this Sunday and walking 7kms with the team from Midland Brick to raise money for type 1 juvenile diabetes.

The least you lot could do is click on this link and sponsor me – whether it’s $5, $10 …whatever you can afford.

So c’mon, dig deep!!!

http://walk.jdrf.org.au/WA/JohnCooke/

Wake up Geoff, Richie's mine!

2008-10-06T20:27:00.002+08:00

It's funny how teh interwebs seem to render time irrelevant, or so you'd think according to one of the latest additions to Geoff McClure's Sporting Life column in The AGE:

Cheers for Richie, girls — he's 78

THE international 2008-09 cricket season may be just around the corner (22 days to go, in fact: just kidding), so what have the "stars" been up to in the lead-up? Well, in the case of Mr 22 himself, Channel Nine's veteran Richie Benaud, life hasn't been too bad at all. This snap of Richie was taken a few days ago in Positano, Italy, where the maestro was seen enjoying a glass of vino in the company of some of the locals' finest young ladies. Not sure of the reason for all the jubilation but maybe they knew of his coming celebrations. Yep. many happy returns to the ol' fella — he was 78 yesterday.

Now I've been a fan of Geoff's for many years, often scanning his column over the day's first coffee hit during a 10 year stint in Melbourne town. But he's taking a bit of 'license' in claiming the image above was taken "just a few days ago".

I actually received this photo via email from a mate in Perth on 24 July who had in turn received it from a friend - the person who took the photo - while on holiday in Europe.

Indeed, it was posted right here in The Perth Files on 30 July... Indeed, I flicked it across to my comedic buddy The Lazy Aussie who also posted it on The Worst of Perth.

But what the hell... it's a great pic and it fits too damn well with Richie's Birthday for me to concern myself with exact dates - what's eight weeks or so between friends? Hell, it may even extend Richie's longevity, which can only be a good thing, right?!

Geoff, if you read this, I'm the bloke who sent you the pic of Jess Sinclair looking like an extra from the set of Hair the Musical on the day he got drafted to Freo. Now that he's retired it might be time to give that one another outing?

Update: Good to see some loyal blogging support from Sunili at Because I Said So.

No pain, no game

2008-09-29T13:56:00.006+08:00

I stumbled across an article online recently from The Age in 2005 in which former Collingwood and Fitzroy ruckman James 'Killer' Manson discusses how football may well have cost him the opportunity to become a father.

Indeed, eight groin operations and countless cortisone jabs have landed him with a virtual vasectomy... a big price to pay in the quest for an AFL Premiership.

This weekend there is no doubt that a number of players would have been playing with the help of cortisone and local anaesthetics. Hawthorn's Luke Hodge was spitting up blood a week ago and would almost definitely have been on the boundary on Saturday, but there was a shiny cup at stake and indeed, his role in the game was pivotal.

His team mate Trent Croad hobbled off with a broken foot... broken in that game, or a fracture that was made worse because he played on the injury?

Former Collingwood player Mark Orval was touted as a future champion, but 15 minutes into the second quarter of his seventh game for the club he was finished. This is a quote from an interview I did with him back in October 1999 for The Footy Show Magazine:

"Fifteen minutes into the first quarter I went to turn and 'bang' it (foot) just snapped. All that artificial bone and the bone taken from my hips just snapped. I've got a tape of the game where you see me getting a needle in the huddle at quarter time... that was the last I saw of the number 10 jumper."

I've watched that tape and I still wince at the thought. Last week I had two cortisone / local anaesthetic injections in my right wrist and I can't remember anything quite so painful in my life.

James Manson, who I also interviewed for that feature on drugs in AFL, is no stranger to the needle either. Here's an extract from my article that paints a pretty clear picture of why he's in the position he is today:

James Manson is a big bloke. He shakes hnds like a big bloke. From the outside, you'd think his 6'4" frame was still more than capable of chasing the leather on the field. It's got to be said that the former Collingwood and Fitzroy ruckman looks pretty fit at 31 years of age. but something's wrong with this picture.

The furrowed brow and clutching of the stomach has me puzzled. He notes my gaze and offers an explanation.

"You wouldn't believe the size of this hernia," he says pointing at a spot just above the belt line.

"have you seen a doctor?" I ask, a little distressed at the thought of what's under there.

"Nah, I'm so used to them these days I just poke them back in myself." These are the words of a man who obviously has more to worry about than straining a hamstring or catching a cold.

The hernias - a condition where one's insides protrude through the stomach wall - are the result of years of groin strains, Manson tells me. He had his first groin reconstruction in 1986, in just his second year playing with Collingwood and the rest as they say is history. Bad history.

"The thing that concerns me most about my groin I that I've had that much cortisone pumped into it, I've lost count. One season I tore my groin but just opted to play the season through instead of having the op - God knows what it's done to me," Manson recounts, shifting uneasily in his chair.

"You hear certain reports about how many shots you're supposed to have in a year and I can tell you, I've had a lot more than my recommended dose. It's funny, a well known Melbourne vet once told me they stopped giving cortisone to racehorses 30 years ago. That really worries me," he says without any trace of a smile.

Now we do know what it has done. I haven't caught up with the latest on whether he has been succesful in having children, but watch this space...

Food secks

2008-09-25T10:13:00.002+08:00

Root me stupid – PR man Phil got quite the shock when he booted, or rooted up his computer only to be confronted by this blunt message.

We’re not sure if he’s being encouraged to sex up a small piece of corn, or it’s a typo and he is being urged to bend The Colonel over the front counter at KFC and play hide the drumstick...

Could be that he's contracted a nasty little virus, or simply plugged his USB into the wrong port. You know what they say, any port in a storm...

Colin buys the farm - Libs win in WA

2008-09-14T12:09:00.004+08:00

There's a smell of burning flesh hanging over West Perth and it aint coming from the aged porterhouses on the grill at Juliano's.

Colin Barnett has bought the farm and signed a deal with Brendon Grylls to form a tiggy touchwood Liberal - Nationals alliance to govern Western Australia for the next four years.

The charred flesh caught on the whipping westerlies down Hay Street could be mistaken for a celebratory lamb spit, but the akubra-fanned flames have bagged themselves a bigger catch - the carcass of the recently deceased Carpenter-led ALP government.

Yes indeed, the farmers have shed their 'pull on' ties and poncy leather loafers, to slip smuggly back into the blunnies and drizabones for some serious celebration.

While the metro crew cosy up to their bush buddies around the Parliament House camp fire, knives are being sharpened in the ALP war room. The farmers are in charge and very soon everyone will feel the sharp edge of their shears.

It's 12.20pm on a bleak Sunday in Perth. Here in the western suburbs the faint pop of champagne corks is carried high on the wind, drowned out only slightly by the thrum of rain on the colourbond roof.

The farmers are in the House

2008-09-12T14:41:00.003+08:00

The farmers are loose in Parliament House and Brendon Grylls has the keys to the liquor cabinet.

It's time to call in the national guard - don't worry about those indo shark fin snatchers up north, we've got rural types drunk on power and it's gonna take a flotilla of patrol boats to reign them in.

From paddock to parliament, these boys have already started whooping it up and it's getting ugly. Snorting coke off hookers' backsides in the public gallery, body shots on the Speaker's Table, guzzling straight Bundy from filthy Blundstones... god help us if someone sends in the hallucinogens.

Seat sniffing and bra snapping is an entree for this mob. The blood is rising faster than the vomit slick on the member's toilet floor and there is a call for a sacrafice... It's come to this already. Carps is running, Buswell is curled up in the foetal position, McGowan is wearing a floral blouse... 'kill the pig, kill the pig!!!'

Time to flee...

Bowling for North Fremantle

2008-09-10T22:54:00.000+08:00

I spent this Father’s Day at the North Fremantle Bowling Club having a roll and a barbie with Cookster Snr who runs the club and pours a top Guinness. It was a pleasant way to 'come down' after election night disappointment and I'm sure Kerry O'Brien would have agreed wholeheartedly.

I've shared the above pics with The Lazy Aussie at The Worst of Perth, so feel free to drop by once you've had your fix of The Perth Files.

The ‘Ladie’s Lounge’ is a veritable treasure chest of memorabilia from a time when Lumpers caught herring off the North Mole during their lunch break.

I was going to rifle through the LPs and position ‘the best one’ on top, but I took one look at a wistful Leo and knew that was the shot.

The men’s locker room is quite a sad affair - lockers ajar, displaying crisp whites on their hangers (seams ironed perfectly), bowling hats, shoes, jars of brylcream and combs that no longer have an owner.

Cases of bowls bear their former owners’ names - Jack, Bill, Fred, Tommy… all now gone, or just too old to bowl.

Good news is that the club committee want to preserve the sense of tradition, while at the same time starting a new page in the history book.

The club turns 50 this year and the old boy has plans to start a jam night, calling in a few favours from local musos who got a leg up in the industry during his time at the Seaview. We can also expect DJs by the green, comedy nights and the odd ball.

If I get enough interest I might organise a TPF Day on the Green - post a comment if you're interested in joining me for a roll.

Storming the election booths

2008-09-06T10:20:00.003+08:00

As election day snuck up on me like a lingering fart in a supermarket aisle, all I could think about was the insidious pain that continues to gather strength in my arthritic wrist.

Could I be feeling sympathy pains for Carps in my carpal region? Do I have a wrist that predicts political changes, just like some people can tell when rain is on the way?

I'm an outcast here in leafy Floreat. A battered man clinging to the bloated corpse of Brian Burke, desperately trying to stay afloat in a cruel sea of neo conservatism. The sharks are circling, taking sly snaps at mein host's greying flesh, waiting for me to lose my grip and sink below...

The local ALP candidate is hopelessly outgunned. There's no champagne on ice. In fact he's too young to drink - we hear he'll be showing his face at the local polling station once the soccer final is over. Another 10 years and the boy might be ready to step into the fray in a seat like Kingsley, where grinning ex-Brits are gathered around sausage sizzles, whinging about daylight saving and calling for graffiti vandals to be whipped in public.

Another handful of Voltarin and what the hell, let's wash it down with a slug of the Black Douglas the wife saves for Irish Coffee nights. It's going to be a long day and as I heard Shaun McManus say at a breakfast yesterday, 'that light at the end of the tunnel could well be the 7.35 to Fremantle.'

Time to head back to The Worst of Perth live election coverage...