I heart the Pixies

Now, where were we? The Pixies - STILL the greatest alternative rock band in the world and they proved it last Thursday at Blackjack 2007.

The last time I saw them was in 1989 and the crowd was simply going ballistic. This time around it was like gathering at a reunion - or going to church - to spend just over an hour as witness to something that is so good it's almost dangerous.

Excuse the puns, but there is no doubt that some kind of weird 'Black' Francis magic was involved in this tour - a Deal with the devil himself - reincarnating a maniacal shaven headed Francis and Santiago, an ageing magician on the skins and the bad-grandma of rock Kim Deal a smoking incindiary on the bass.

There was plenty of jumping, screaming and cackling from the crowd, but the big difference between this gig and the last one 18 years ago was that almost everyone was singing along with the lyrics - a group prayer, one last chance to dip our collective toes into the maelstrom of demonic, fret bending, screeching, eyeball gouging madness that changed the way we thought about music forever.

And despite the sheer joy of watching it all unfold, for me there was an underlying sadness - like bringing a favourite relative out from cryogenic suspension for one last party that you know is going to end all too soon and is unlikely to ever happen again.

Watching Kim Deal mouthing the lyrics, 'I.... Love... You', you just knew it was a heartfelt thank you and farewell - and the love flowed back onto that poorly lit stage in the Claremont showgrounds in abundance.

Away with The Pixies

I think it's fitting that my 101st post be a topic of some significance - a milestone to remember and one that will be hard to forget for this self confessed Pixies groupie.

Yes indeedy, the greatest alternative rock 'n' roll band in world history will be traversing the Nullarbor this week to appear as the headline act at Blackjack 2007.

They'll be playing alongside Eskimo Joe, the Living End and Gnarls Barkley, which is akin to The Beatles being supported by Danni Minogue and Delta Goodrem... no, I take that back... I have a healthy dose of respeck for the support bands, particularly if Jarvis Cocker makes his rumoured appearance, but hell, the Pixies are rock 'n' roll royalty.

Quite frankly, I'd sit through a five hour Boys II Men gig if it meant getting a dose of Joey Santiago's demonic geetar magic ripping riffs through my synapses, coupled with a bit of 'I'm fucking with your mind' Frank Black falsetto for good measure.

Oh yeah Kim, you and the boys are the real Deal and I am looking forward to seeing you again for the first time since 1989 more than a Fremantle Premiership... well, possibly on a par with that Premiership.

It may seem as though I need a good slap, or a glass of water in the face, but for those of us who experienced the Pixies back in the 80s, when psychedelia aka The Stone Roses, the Happy Mondays, etc, etc, was at the cutting edge, you'll know what I mean here. The Pixies were a revolution that swept all before them in a grinding, teeth gnashing, eyeball gouging musical tsunami that changed the way some of us listened to music forever.

That night some 18 years ago when I stood pint in hand at the Studio in Bristol I witnessed something that can only be described as sheer alchemy. Even the upstairs floor that I was standing on was possessed to the point that even if you stood still you couldn't help but be bounced two feet into the air.

This time around I've got a VIP back stage pass and there is a very real chance that I'll be introduced to the band. I've rehearsed a number of lines as to what I might say at that moment - 'you guys rock', 'I've got all your albums', etc, etc, but at the end of that day I just want to tell them, 'thanks for coming and for making this 39 year old very, very happy'.

Vale Billy Thorpe

I was never a huge fan of Billy Thorpe until I read his two rollicking autobiographies 'Sex and Thugs and Rock 'n' Roll' and 'Most People I Know'. This man knew how to party with the best of them and his life was certainly well lived.

Such an enormous shame to see this huge talent, this massive personality simply taken away in an instant, but looking back on his past, I think Billy'd be the first to say that he'd ridden his luck like a wild stallion and sooner or later the ride was going to come to an end.

Take for instance the time that he overdosed on cocaine in New York and ended up dying on the operating table twice before being stabilised and sent to a ward in the infamous Bellevue Mental Hospital for the criminally insane.

He spent days lying opposite two Mexican psychopaths who he dubbed the Morpheeno Brothers due to their constant cries of 'morpheeno! morpheeno!' during their waking hours. Billy himself couldn't escape the needle, with his nurse 'Big Bertha' jabbing him up on a regular basis.

Another great story involved a road trip to the outback with The Aztecs where they played in a shearing shed that had to be mucked out before they could set up the equipment. In the middle of the set the power went off and dozens of red neck farm boys descended on the crowd and beat the living suitcase out of everyone, including the band. After all was said and done the good ol boys ambushed them again after the gig and chased them all the way back to the hotel, shooting at them as they went.

Lobby Lloyd missed being shot in the head by half an inch thanks to some very good luck.

And of course there was the time that Billy ingested a particularly potent tab of acid at the Sunbury Festival and walked right off the edge of what was a very high stage.

Yep, he rode his luck and made the most of his 60 years, even if at times he was a little hazy and most certainly quite crazy.

The Eagles really do suck!

Excuses, excuses - 'half our team isn't playing', 'it's only the NAB Cup', 'we won the Premiership', 'we don't care'... sooky la la, weak, warblings from that blue and yellow rabble from the West Coast Eagles.

Yes, that's right. You may have won the Premiership, but you haven't beaten the mighty Fremantle Dockers in the last five encounters and don't look likely to step up in the next 50.

Sure, half your team wasn't there - three players - but hearing about the state of young Danny 'are you lookin at me' Kerr on Saturday night, do you really think he would have been in a fit state to run around Subi Oval in that heat? What was he gonna do, whip the Docker's butts with his recently procured taxi arial?

What a game! Great on field action, but in the stands was where all the entertainment was to be found. I've never seen so much fake blonde hair, tight short-shorts and augmented boozies - and that was just the male Eagles supporters! The chardy-sipping Eagle stereotype was everywhere last night and in particular behind the wheel of their ridiculous SUV slash 4X4s as they clogged Subi's streets on the way back home to Nedlands, City Beach, Claremont etc.

Ahh, nothing quite so much fun as goading a wounded Eagle, but no doubt at all that they'll be all 'pepped up' and ready for another sniff when the season proper begins. I can't wait.

Goodbye cricket, hello God's game

Thank Christ the cricket season's over and we can focus our attention on the AFL once again. Not that I don't like cricket no, I love it, but to be beaten by those bland, jandle wearing, sheep shagging Kiwis is the ultimate insult - especially on the back of a loss to the Poms.

I've met some very nice Kiwis in my time, but really, the vast majority of this mob have a huge 'chup' on their shoulders and seem to live their lives plotting the downfall of Australian civilization as we know it. Despite this fact, I'd happily swap PMs any day - our flacid little man Johnny for your butchy, man-talking Helen.

Look, I know it's all sour grapes, but what got me really ticked off about this cricket thing was hearing some halfwit nonce in the ABC radio box in Nu Zuland going off his tiny little head towards the end of the last game.

One of the Kiwis was run out, so Mr Impartial Commentator can be clearly heard shouting, 'Not out, thet ez not out!' Of course, he was out, so next thing you hear is a giant thump on the sound board and a resounding 'fuck!' Lovely language for our Aunty listeners.

At the end of the game we were treated with 'yee-ha' and 'you bloody beauty'. And not only that, the effects microphone was picking up some other 'bleck kep' tard in the stands shouting out, 'fuck off Aussies, you're the buggest losers'.

So, you can take your Craig MucMullens and shove him up a sheep's beckside.

Now it's time to focus on THE great game and the might and power of the purple clad Fremantle Dockers as they give the West Coast a right old plucking in the NAB Cup. If we lose, I'll blame it on the Kiwis.

Donnie Davies update - who is Todd Quillen?

Well, it's taken a couple of weeks, but I finally got a response to my email to Mr Donnie 'God Hates Fags' Davies.

However, the response and accompanying You Tube message is not from Donnie, but from the affable Todd Quillen... It's all been a clever ruse. Click on the link below.

Donnie Davies...
Standard HeaderHide Pane
Todd Quillen
AddSaturday, 10 February, 2007 6:31:19 AM

Hi, I'm Todd Quillen. I'm notDonnie Davies.
Here is something I have to say....http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uzGigt1YJ3A
Thanks for the ride!
Todd Quillenwww.toddquillen.com

What's in a word you ask?

A disturbing trend has emerged in the key words that are directing people to The Perth Files... featuring high on the list are Ben Cousins, local underworld figures, sharks and whale spew.

What's pleasing is the association between 'West Coast' and 'Suck' - three words that should always go together and in this order whenever Fremantle's poor chardonnay supping cousins are made mention of.

Also pleasing that words like bestiality and fetishist aren't up there, but now that I've included them in this post, maybe they will? Woops, better chuck in a serving of christianity, Jesus, happiness, sweetness and light.

Also better steer clear of words like muslim, terrorism and 9/11 lest people get the wrong idea and I definitely do not want to see any traffic being directed here that should be going direct to the Australian Liberal Party.

Here are the top key words for this month:

perth, eagles, daylight, suck, west, coast, savings, mercanti, troy, cousins, ben, mcdonalds, australia, shark, dockerland, john, mokbel, saving, day, files, tony, fremantle, sightings, light, water, pasta, booze, melbourne, song, wally, foreman, sighting, zoo, whale, hours, western, bus, howard, vote, bore, dockers, food, spew, kizon, bush, does, blog

God hates fags & so does Donnie

Only in America... whether this is a piss take or a true piece of US-based fundamentalist insanity is hard to work out. But there is no doubt that however you look at it, the new single by 'Love God's Way' titled 'The Bible Says' is pushing the envelope.

It features a catchy chorus with the line, 'God hates fags'.

http://www.eveningservice.com/Video

Quite possibly the finest moment in that clip is when he belts out the line 'God hates fags', then he does a little aside to the camera and with a big shit eatin' grin says, 'and if you're a fag, he hates you too...' Cheerful little chap isn't he?

The bizarre thing is that it seems the clip is all about a bunch of gay guys who are praying together to resist the temptation to follow their natural sexual urges. However, while not being qualified as a spokesperson for the gay community, I can't imagine anyone wanting to get within three mid-western country miles of his back door.

So anyways, I decided I'd send the singer Donnie Davies a little email seeking his divine assistance - can't wait for the response!

Dear Donnie

It was by chance that a colleague of mine emailed me your wonderful song 'God Hates Fags' and led me to your website.

I've got to ask, is that you singing? Has anyone ever mentioned that you look a lot like a young Bruce Springsteen mixed with a bit of Billy Joel? Of course they didn't have the moustache, but I think it gives you a much stronger, more masculine look. Bruce and Billy certainly never entertained gentlemen friends, that's for sure!

But Donnie - and that's a lovely name by the way - I do have a problem. When I watched that video and you turned to the camera and said, '...and if you're a fag, God hates you too', I knew you were talking to me. I just knew it. I cried and cried till there weren't no more tears left to cry. I had to lock myself in the office toilet for an hour blowing my nose in a roll of toilet tissue.

You see, I now have unnatural thoughts about having man love with you. I actually WANT your sex even though you hate me. I have in the past had relationships with other men and yes, I have tasted the demon seed, but that was a long time ago. My back door was firmly closed to the male member the moment I embraced christianity.

But then I see you in that clip and thoughts of undressing you, running my fingers through your hairy chest and feeling your moustache carresing my bare nipples have entirely consumed me. I'm sorry for being so graphic, but it's all I can think about. You are sooo SEXY.

I know that just like God does, you must hate me, but I can't help it. Donnie, please help me to reject these wicked thoughts and to embrace Jesus as my personal saviour.

Until then I will be tormented with thoughts of what you must look like in tight swimming trunks and lycra bike pants. Please help me, don't hate me.

Check out Donnie's personal website:

http://www.washblade.com/thelatest/thelatest.cfm?blog_id=11067

I'm Dubbya & I'm an idiot...

George W Bush is an absolute tool, but rather than piss about stating the bleeding obvious, check out these great Bushisms from 2006 - I'm sure 2007 will be just as bountiful:

"The best way to defeat the totalitarian of hate is with an ideology
of hope -- an ideology of hate - excuse me - with an ideology of
hope." - Fort Benning, Ga., Jan. 11, 2007

"Because of your work, children who once wanted to die are now
preparing to live." - speaking at the White House summit on malaria,
Dec. 14

"This morning my administration released the budget numbers for
fiscal 2006. These budget numbers are not just estimates; these are
the actual results for the fiscal year that ended February the
30th."- referring to the fiscal year that ended on Sept. 30,
Washington, D.C., Oct. 11,

"You're one of the outstanding leaders in a very important part of
the world. I want to thank you for strategizing our discussions."
Meeting with the prime minister of Malaysia, New York, Sept. 18

"You know, one of the hardest parts of my job is to connect Iraq to
the war on terror." - Interview with CBS News, Washington D.C.,
Sept. 6

"I think-tide turning-see, as I remember-I was raised in the desert,
but tides kind of-it's easy to see a tide turn-did I say those
words?" -Washington, D.C., June 14

"I was not pleased that Hamas has refused to announce its desire to
destroy Israel." - Washington, D.C., May 4

"You never know what your history is going to be like until long
after you're gone." - Washington, D.C., May 5

"That's George Washington, the first president, of course. The
interesting thing about him is that I read three-three or four books
about him last year. Isn't that interesting?" - Showing German
newspaper reporter Kai Diekmann the Oval Office, Washington, D.C.,
May 5

"I aim to be a competitive nation."-San Jose, Calif., April 21

"No question that the enemy has tried to spread sectarian violence.
They use violence as a tool to do that." - Washington, D.C., March 22

"I'll be glad to talk about ranching, but I haven't seen the movie.
I've heard about it. I hope you go-you know-I hope you go back to
the ranch and the farm is what I'm about to say." - Explaining that
he hasn't yet seen Brokeback Mountain, Manhattan, Kan., Jan. 23

"You took an oath to defend our flag and our freedom, and you kept
that oath underseas and under fire." - Addressing war veterans,
Washington, D.C., Jan. 10

The perils of Internet porn

Just thought I'd share a workplace experience from a few years back...

I was doing a media ring-a-round one day and logged on to Lawsy's website (address courtesy of Margaret Gees) to find his producers' contact details and was amazed to see the screen downloading a lurid pink background.

Then a banner came up with, 'I like 'em young and fresh', followed by images of, well, supposedly young and fresh 'Nasty Teens'.

Being in a shared office, I quickly pissed that screen off and shut down the Internet, then turned around to greet my boss (female) who had just walked into the room.

After providing her with a five minute update on my day's activities, I turned around and was aghast to see the 'Knocked up Black Chicks' web page large as life on my screen. It took me about five minutes before I was able to escape the hundreds of porn applets that had invaded my system.

I then had to explain to my boss what had happened as she was in the midst of emailing me a 'please explain'.

After all the excitement I phoned a friend at mX and told her about Lawsy's filth and the shit storm of hard core porn I'd just had to fight my way through. It turned out that hackers had got into his site - couldn't happen to a nicer bloke - and ran as that day's front page, including my colourful quotes.

Next day at work a 'Gold Edition' Hustler Magazine arrived in the mail addressed to me and was promptly opened by the boss. She retrieved the 'please explain' email from her drafts and got back to work.

PS - the mag contained a story about an erotica exhibition at Metro 5 Gallery who I did PR work for, so I survived again...

Where the bloody hell are we?

Would the last person to leave Perth please turn off the lights... oh, they were never on.

I can't believe it. Just when we were acting all grown up, suddenly the blinkers are back on and we're all huddled around the wireless counting our ration coupons again.

Yes indeed, the prospect of Sunday trading has been dealt a lethal blow. Perth, 2 hours and 25 years behind the rest of Australia - the only city where you can't go shopping on a Sunday if that's what you choose to do.

Go on, let's go the whole hog - bring back roster petrol stations, stamp out those pesky supermarkets that dare to stay open beyond 5.30pm, make bottle shops illegal so that we have to run grog in from illicit stills hidden deep in the hills and - most importantly - repeal the daylight savings legislation immediately.

In fact, I say we not only abolish daylight savings, but we go one step further and put the clocks forward by an extra hour! What better than a city that slips under the cover of darkness at 5.30pm and wakes to a new day at 4.00am. We'll be able to water the lawns for hours, take our dogs out to shit in other people's front yards, put in the hard yards on talk back radio, water some more, have dinner at 4.30pm and be tucked up in bed by 6.00pm - bliss!

What the friggen hell is wrong with the idea of deregulated trading hours? It means more work for more people and gives us all an opportunity to do our shopping outside of the restrictive hours that currently exist. My local IGA closes at 5.30pm every week day except Thursday and I am not one tiny bit interested in joining the crowds for 'late night' shopping, or for that matter the mad Saturday supermarket rush.

I think this whole issue has got more to do with the fact that we're so isolated from the rest of the country that we feel the need to be 'different' - it's the old chip on the shoulder syndrome. More of the old 'If it aint broke, don't fix it' mantra.

Perth is acting like a spoilt child stamping its feet, squeezing its eyes shut and screeching its lungs out to avoid the tide of change. NO, we don't need to be like everyone else, but resistance simply for the sake of being 'different' is infantile.

Now before you take me away and start beating me about the kidneys with old phone books, let me just state that I love WA and the lifestyle it offers. All I'm asking is that we start looking more to the future instead of fretting over maintaining the status quo all the time.

Anyway, got to sign off and get back to the lawns...

Bring on Sunday trading

We've done it Perth - we've lived with daylight savings for more than a month now and we're all still alive and kicking! The curtains are coping well, the kids are sleeping like a dream and even the cows have got themsleves sorted.

Granted, many of us have yet to adjust the reticulation timer and there is talk of the odd 'stiffy' making an unwelcome appearance on the morning bus, but even genitalia will get the hang of it eventually. Seriously, this issue was - ahem - raised (chortle...) on talk back radio.

Now we're all big grown ups who have graduated to the 21st Century, but it's not over yet. No siree, now it's time to go the next step... now, don't get too excited, but can we please say YES to extended trading hours. Face it, this is the only city in the western world where you can't go shopping on a Sunday and quite frankly it's an embarrasment.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm no shop-a-holic and I have no intention of trawling the corridors of Myers and DJs 24/7, but I'd like the right to carry out my humble retail excursions at a time that suits me.

For many people Monday to Saturday, 9.00am - 5.00pm with one late night opening is not a viable option. My local 'not so' SUPER market closes an hour before I finish work, so instead I have to travel to another suburb, or pay above the odds at the 'gourmet' grocery, if I want to pick something up on the way home.

Oh sure, there will be those of you out there saying 'enough is enough, why can't we save Sunday as a day of rest and keep the shops closed'. And you'd be the bunch who opposed petrol stations opening seven days a week - remember the frustration of the roster system?

Let's get with the program and clutch these changes to our collective bosoms and then set about even bigger changes like saving water... we live on a sand dune people! And our dams are below 20 per cent capacity. But hey, that's another blog for another time.

Merry Christmas

Well, it's almost Christmas day and our thoughts turn to ham, turkey, presents under a twinkling tree and... our old friend from South Park, Mr Hankey the Christmas Poo.

Ahhh, you just gotta love the idea of a faecal folk hero, the turd is the word, a poo for all people, an old school stool...

And so I wish you all a very merry Christmas and may your holidays be full of joy and solid movements.

Me? I plan to throw myself into the Indian Ocean, wallow about for a bit and spend the remainder of the time catching up on a few good books - probably on the throne in our small purpose built 'library'.

Hydeeeee-Ho people and a merrrrry Christmas to you all!

Victorian bushfires - my recollections of 1997

It's been tragic to hear about the bushfires raging across Victoria over the last couple of weeks, but heartening to know that no lives have been lost.

Back in 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.

Daylight savings - the whingers emerge...

Okay, I've noted a few people already starting to whinge about daylight savings - and I'm not just talking about your terminal cases like the woman who called 720 mornings to complain that DS means less time to look at her Christmas lights at night.

No, I'm talking about those who claim to have lived elsewhere and enjoyed DS, but who now live in WA and think an extra hour of daylight just isn't needed here.

Well, sorry folks, but that argument is a load of steaming old codswallop!

I'll admit that even a one hour change does take some adjustment - the kids do find it a bit harder to go to sleep, people forget to eat at the normal times and getting out of bed in the morning can be a tad more irksome. BUT, that all changes over a few weeks and you soon learn to adjust to the time cycle.

These days I'm waking to sunlight just before 6.00am rather than the ungodly hour of 4.45am and the kids are doing likewise. Even the raucous chorus of Magpies and Kookaburras in the adjacent golf course are keeping a lid on it until later.

And in the evenings it's getting dark at around about 8.30pm instead of 7.30pm which is well and truly on a par with the eastern states. I've said it once and I'll say it again - the sun has no right to be up poking its nose through my blinds at 4.45am and then buggering off before 7.00pm.

Those of you whingeing about DS should be concerned with other more pressing issues, like the people of Floreat who are intent on ridding Perth of its groundwater supplies by running sprinkler systems that would be more at home in the lobby of some Las Vegas water themed casino.

I've just moved into the neighbourhood and as a renter I'm obligated to do the bore water tango myself. The first time I turned on the retic I felt sure it was a spectacle you could see from space and that authorities would descend from Black Hawks, cuff me and drag me away to environmental vandal hell.

But it turns out that I'm not a drop in the aquifer in the scheme of things - I've seen one house cranking up industrial sized sprinklers every morning for the past week to water a front lawn that serves no purpose other than to look green. Even this morning in the pouring rain.

Groundwater is a finite option and the sooner water restrictions apply to all households, regardless of bores, the better.

Pom's Ashes campaign in tatters

Poor old Poms... just when they think they've got our measure, woops, there goes 9 wickets for 70 runs. Can this hapless lot string two innings together? Can they string together their own boot laces?

Q. What do Geraint Jones and Michael Jackson have in common?
A. They both wear gloves for no apparent reason

Q. What is the height of optimism?
A. An English batsman applying sunscreen.

Q. What does Ashley Giles put in his hands to make sure the next
ball almost always takes a wicket?
A. A bat.

Q. What would Glen McGrath be if he was an Englishman?
A. An allrounder.

Q. What advantage do Kevin Pieterson, Andrew Strauss and Geraint
Jones have over the rest of their team-mates?
A. At least they can say they're not really English.

Q. What is the English version of a hat-trick?
A. Three runs in three balls.

Q. What do you call an Englishman with 100 runs against his name?
A. A bowler.

Q. What is the most proficient form of footwork displayed by English
batsmen?
A. The walk back to the pavilion.

Q. Who has the easiest job in the English squad?
A. The guy who removes the red ball marks from the bats.

Q. Why is Andrew Flintoff the unluckiest English player?
A. Because he was born in England.

Q. What does "Ashes" stand for?
A. Another Sad Horrific English Series.

Q. What's the English version of LBW?
A. Lost, Beaten, Walloped.

Q. Who spends the most time on the crease of anyone in the English
team?
A. The person who ironed the cricket whites.

Ben Cousins legless

Oh Ben, you've done it again! Arrested at 4.30am wandering the banks of the Yarra, pissed as a newt, just a stone's throw from the Crown Casino.

According to police, Ben was "legless" when arrested and had no idea where he was - shades of the day Trent Croad was concussed at Subiaco Oval playing for the Hawks and then went looking for his car in the car park after the game. "Trent, you live in Glenferrie mate! You'll be needing an aeroplane!"

However, Trent's excuse was a knock to the noggin, whereas Ben's situation was self induced. Word is that he was keen to shed the shirt and take off ala the booze bus episode, but couldn't for the life of him find Canning Highway anywhere.

They say you shouldn't put temptation in the way of the easily tempted, but that's exactly what's happened here in a round-a-bout sorta way. Quite simply, it's not really Ben's fault. Here's why...

You see the club that Benny frequented on this night of the lost legs is owned by a bloke called Nick Russian. Nick's a model and he's also an ex-contestant on the rather salubrious reality TV show 'Temptation Island'. Now, Australia's an island, therefore Ben was led into temptation... see what I mean!

A rather stupid and fanciful excuse I'll be the first to admit, but no more so than his story last time around - 'I was busting for a wiss so I ran from the car and just kept on running'.

So we wait with baited breath to see what sort of excuse will be cranked out to once again save the hide of big, bad Benny. This time he's got no Gardiner to help deflect the blow torch, but I'll put $1,000 bucks on him trotting out for round 1 of season 2007, bright and shiny as a new teflon pan.

Daylight savings - welcome to a new dawn

It's finally happening. The powers that be have opened the door to a brave new world where we dare buggerise around with time and learn how to adjust our clocks to embrace daylight savings.

And it's about bloody time... I'm an absolute wreck from waking at the god-awful hour of 4.30am every morning as the sun peeks in and rudely slaps me from my slumber.

Unless there are cows for me to milk, or wheat for me to sow, this is not an hour that I feel requires my waking presence. As outlined in my previous post below, I refuse to join the 'start early, finish early' brigade.

Perth, It's just a matter of adjusting. We've been dealt a poor hand by Mother Nature when it comes to the cycle of daylight hours and this change is merely putting everything back in its natural order.

They say, 'if it aint broke, don't fix it', but I've got to tell you, it's well and truly broke - it needs a sharp hit with a blunt instrument and daylight savings is just the tool to put things right.

Look forward to seeing you all down the beach for fish and chips on the foreshore one night soon - no torch required!

Daylight savings - suck it and see

Western Australia is renowned as the start early, finish early, make sure I'm tucked up in bed by 9.30pm capital of the universe. It is for this reason that we have so many people staunchly opposed to daylight savings.

"I want to water my 12 acres of lawn at 4.00am and it's my God given right to do so! All you people who want to spend quality time with your children in the afternoon are simply being selfish..."

And so the argument goes. Another classic line is how difficult it is to get children to sleep while it's still light outside.

Well Perth, I've got news for you. After a decade in Melbourne I can assure you that even if we roll back the clocks by one hour, all you early birds will still have plenty of time to catch your worms, power walk a few Ks, scoff down a croissant and latte breakfast and still be at work early enough to be back out on the freeway heading for home at 4.30pm.

I say this with the knowledge that I've been awoken every morning for the past three weeks at approximately 4.20am, thinking some giant friggin space craft covered in halogen spotties has descended from above. Add to this the chorus of magpies and the sounds of all those vehicles inhabited by you early risers and it's IMPOSSIBLE to get back to sleep.

Just when you think sleep deprivation will kick in and and force you back into hallucinogenic slumber, the two year old in the next room decides that by the look of the blazing light coming in through the cracks in the blinds, it must be toast time.

I no longer crave daylight savings for its post-work pleasures, I now need it desperately to know that I can slumber in semi-darkness until at least 5.30am. And don't go banging on about changing work hours to suit the summer daylight hours - I don't want to change. I want to wake at 6.00am, start work at 8.30am, come home at 6.00pm and go to bed at roughly 11.00pm.

The daylight in Perth is broken... it's wrong and it must be amended accordingly. To prove my point you simply need to visit any suburban Chinese restaurant at 5.00pm - there are people already past the banana fritters getting ready for home. Not natural - Fat Cat hasn't even donned the jammies.

Beware people, especially the young. Failure to embrace daylight savings will result in further generations of up early, finish early, talk-back phoning, lawn watering, early eating dysfunctionals that really do believe their own hype.

Be very afraid...

Rest in peace Wally Foreman

So sad to know the journeyman of WA sporting commentary, Wally Foreman, passed away this week at the young age of just 58.

I've only ever called in to the Sports Talk program once and, spookily, that first time was on the Saturday afternoon before his fatal heart attack this week.

I was the last caller to the program and Wally thought I was Jim, so he's shouting 'hello Jim, are you there Jim?' and I'm shouting, 'Wally, it's John, are you after John?' Eventually he put me through, warned me to be quick as the news was nigh, and I asked my question of guest Jon Steffensen.

The fact that I - and I'm not 100 per cent sure on this - was the last caller on his final show dealt me quite a blow when I learned of his death.

And it is only now that I realise how important he is to the fabric of my media 'family' in WA. We grow comfortable with our preferred radio presenters - they go with us to and from work each day; they come shopping with us; they accompany us on road trips; drop the kids off at school; they're in the background as we snooze away lazy summer Sunday afternoons... and now one of our family is gone.

I'm certainly no fan of West Coast, but for the sake of King Wally I'm sincerely glad that he got to call his team in a winning Grand Final before he passed.

Rest peacefully Wally.