People Against Daylight Savings - update

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

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

http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2008/08/01/2321435.htm?site=perth

Fels launches Anti-Daylight Savings Party

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

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

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

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

The Worst of Perth - Richie Benaud

A shout out to the peeps at The Worst of Perth and that very funny man The Lazy Aussie (TLA), who is responsible for driving at least half of the 5-6 people who visit this site every day... okay, maybe there are more, but it's not like there's any danger of The Perth Files melting down from a traffic overload.

Anyway,Teh Cookster has become quite the fan of TWOP and very happy to supply the odd pic or video where I feel they may have TWOP potential, ie, the current Richie Benaud image and the Subi Oval poo vid that is causing the boy so much angst.

So, once you've finished here --- and please stay as long as you like --- get over to The Worst of Perth and join the merry gang in a bit of banter on the very best of the worst things our fine city has to offer.

Oh and be sure and tell your friends to visit. And please be my friend on facebook... Needy? Clingy? Just plain creepy? You betcha!

'Be bold Perth people'

A well crafted blog by Stephen Bevis, Arts Editor of The West Australian, on the dilema facing the Perth populace over the redevelopment of the Swan River foreshore.

He's right on the money when he suggests that erring on the side of caution on this one is destined to leave us with something second rate, a 'coulda been' development that promised so much more.

The Pope down under

Great to see that some creative minds have started cranking up the Pope merchandise, although a bit too late to take advantage of those cashed-up young Catholics who were here in numbers only a short time ago.

You could store this little number in your drawer alongside your Pope-pourri.

Ahem, boom-tish...

Super glue? Yeah right!

I'm a bit shagged today to be honest. What with all those mountain stages of the Tour De Doping over the past few nights, a man has his limits. If you see me heading towards the edge of a steep cliff with a deep valley below, be sure to throw some Powerade in my fatigued face, or at least grab me by the sissy bar.

Good job I don't actually ride a bike. Unless it's some kind of holiday thing to keep the kids happy, or I'm at Rottnest where the bastard bike is the only form of land transport.

But I digress. What I wanted to talk about was what is probably the world's most over-hyped, but completely useless product - super glue.

Over many years I've kept a miniscule tube of this crap in my 'handyman's kit' --- Grandad's old Gladstone fishing bag --- and pulled it out on occasion to fix the unfixable. Success rate? Zero per cent.

Today I tried bonding two bits of smooth, clean plastic together --- standard fare --- and I even clamped it together for 10 minutes. Nothing. Could have achieved a better result with Clag and there wouldn't be any chance of glueing my hand to my penis when I went for a mid-job leak.

The stuff appears to be bloody fantastic when it comes to bonding human body parts, but have a crack with wood, plastic, metal, ceramics (think cracked bong many, many years ago... man) and it is the proverbial tits on a bull.

Okay, maybe I'm doing it all wrong, but if that was the case I think I'd be in care, with a bib around my neck to catch the drool. Maybe I should be. But can ANYONE out there share any stories of success with super glue? Please!

I recall the ads where some construction worker dork is suspended from the ground by his helmet (on his head... keep it nice!) which is superglued to a rafter. Quite a line in bullshit I'm thinking. I'd like to see the company CEO try the same trick at about 800 metres.

Your thoughts?

Bring back the Pope Scope!

Well, the Pontif has come and gone, leaving a lot of Catholic youth facing their biggest comedown since the red cordial days.

Sure it was great to see old Ratzy out there on the Harbour, donning the policemen's hat, pressing the flesh, etc, etc, but I'm a little non-plussed with the lack of merch being peddled on the streets.

Where the hell... excuse the blasphemy... are the Pope's authorised tour t-shirts and bomber jackets? Why can't I get my own souvenir pointy hat? You would have at least thought we'd see a few old man Pope masks, or Papal staffs that play a burst of 'Wassa Matter You?' when you press a button on the handle.

Sheesh! Back in the day when we had the last Papal appearance, good old WA Salvage had the foresight to mass produce carboard 'Pope Scopes' - I guess it was Luigi's RC upbringing that prompted this wise marketing decision. And you know what, I did sava-da-money and puchased at least half a dozen of these crude, yet highly effective periscopes.

Sadly, they were all stolen by crack heads and heathens back in my university days, so I can't show you the design. And no, I never actually spotted the Pope, but those suckers were just the thing for live gigs and keeping an eye on our attractive next door neighbour.

For the love of God, someone please tell me this occasion didn't go by without nairy a Pope scope in sight? Surely not???

Only in America Part II

Of course, the same group that is falling over itself to support the AFA in its homophobic boycott of McDonald's, also retails a dandy line in neo-conservative t-shirts.

If you're a right wing nut job and you want the world to know it, WorldNetDaily can fit you up for a pro-gun, anti-Obama, kill the pinko, t-shirt of your choice from small sizes to suit the kiddies, right up to your XXXXXXL grandaddy of 'em all.

Here are a couple of my favourites, although the 'Meat is Murder... tasty, tasty murder' and 'Pave the Whales', complete with a bulldozer running over said whale, takes the cake for sheer bloody-minded stupidity.

Let me know if you have a leftist slogan that can match it with this lot.

The Secret Diary of Steve Jobs: Proof that God exists and has a sense of humor

The Secret Diary of Steve Jobs: Proof that God exists and has a sense of humor

Only in America...

Lordy, lordy, pants on fire! Yes, in another example of how some things can only ever happen in the US of A, deep, dark conservative right group the American Family Association (AFA)are boycotting McDonald's because they claim it supports and encourages homosexuality.

According to US-based blog Think Progress:

AFA is upset at McDonald’s for refusing to condemn Vice President of Communications Richard Ellis’s decision to serve on the Board of Directors of the National Gay & Lesbian Chamber of Commerce (NGLCC). AFA President Donald Wildmon said the situation is “strange” because “it’s the family that McDonald’s appeals to — children’s playland, you know, all the little toys, all of that. And they are promoting a lifestyle that would utterly destroy the traditional family.”

Okay, "all the little toys, all of that." So I'm assuming that Don's belief is that gay people don't have an appreciation of playland and toys... possibly too busy having rampant sexual encounters in leather bars, or trying their hardest to get into poor Don's well starched y-fronts?

I have to say, in my years of public relations work for the Golden Arches (yes, I do PR work for McDonald's in Western Australia), having to prepare a statement to combat this sort of homophobic, red neck agenda, is something I haven't yet had the pleasure to do.

Here are a few comments that have been posted on the Boycott McDonald's website:

"WE GO TO MCDONALDS FOR YEARS. NO MORE. WE WILL NEVER SET FOOT IN YOUR PLACE AGAIN. I AM SICK AND TIRED OF FAMILY PLACES APPROVING THE GAY LESBIAN ALLIANCE. NO MORE KIDS MEALS FOR US. AND MANY OTHERS WILL BE TOLD ABOUT IT."

"McDonald's says they are committed to diversity. Political Correctness and diversity are two of the major reasons that this country is in such a mess. Diversity is not a strength. It is a weakness. Diversity divides a country or a pople. Also homosexual life style is one of the major reasons that Greek and Roman empires fell. I will not eat at McDonals' again."

Sweet jesus, we're talkin' some real homeland folks here, the sort of people who still cheer at the final scenes in Easy Rider where Hopper and Fonda get blown off their choppers. Yes siree, aint no diversity 'llowed round those parts, whether it be racial, cultural or sexual.

And there's nothing like a sweeping statement that homosexuality "is one of the major reasons that Greek and Roman empires fell". Well, ah don't rightly know if a bit of mano-a-mano action really had much to do with all that Jim Bob, Billy Joe or whatever name your Mama (or was it your Sister?) decided to annoint you with. Maybe you just fell off a rogue steer, hit your head and you aint thinkin' straight?

This one's a real cracker:

"Dearest McDonalds, I am deeply saddened at your decision to sponsor the sodomitic lifestyle. Thoughts have consequences, which usually lead to actions and it seems that McDonalds has caved to a few sodomites that believe that their choice to have sexual relations with the same sex is on par with other true civil rights. I am sorry to say that my limited discretionary spending allocated to fast food will now go to any other restaurant besides your own. McDonalds...Think things through and seek the will of God, not the will of people who believe that their physical urges to have sex in an un-natural manner have any priority what-so-ever. Good Luck...:("

But of course, this person, obviously not "sodomotic" only ever has sex in a perfectly "natural" manner. Or maybe she isn't getting any at all?

The common thread in all these comments is that these people want McDonald's to remain "neutral". Well, I'm sorry, a company that employs and serves a diverse range of people who are white, black, asian, hispanic, straight, gay, christian, muslim, jewish, rastafarian, etc, etc, etc, is socially obligated to support their rights as independently thinking human beings.

It's the bloody minded and ignorant members of society who think their way is the be all and end of of civilisation that pose the greatest threat to our way of life. Maybe our more progressive companies recognise this and are quite happy to leave you behind as they move ahead with the times?

Fishing the social media seas

I loved this quote that was in the program for a great PRIA seminar I attended today on New Media and PR:

'The good news is, everyone's visible online. The bad news is we're all three inches tall.' Seth Godin, Purple Cow.

It reminds me of a tag line that fellow blogger Tea Brennan once used: 'I went outside once and the graphics were shit.'

Yes, there's no doubt that we're all spending a truck load more time hanging out and communicating online and those conversations are bouncing around out there on the interwebs for EVERYONE to read.

And trawling this vast sea of information are whole fleets of search engines like Google Alert, dipping their lines into the briny and landing fat, fishy hauls of conversation into the inboxes of people worldwide. Us fisherpeople specify what species of information we're after, but just like the 'real world', sometimes you've got to wear the odd clump of seaweed, or pull your hook off an information snag.

* Okay, it's a tenuous analogy, but it's the best I can do over a luke warm coffee and a bag of orange snakes! *

What today's seminar has reinforced is that the term virtual reality is increasingly a misnomer. Today's online world is as real as bricks and mortar and for people working in the communications game it's a case of come on board today, or risk becoming the techno dinosaurs of tomorrow.

Yeah, you're probably saying 'ah, der!', but as someone who has had their toe in the online world since 2005, there is so much I still need to learn... and it changes every day. While we have office IT - slash - techno geeks who champion the online world, in some countries they have PR people who work exclusively within 'teh interwebs' - Digital Influence Teams... go figure! In Australia we're still fighting for the right to access facebook at work.

I also found out this morning that blogging is like ohhhh sooooo yesterday, but hey, I'm an old fashioned sorta guy. Twittering is now the way to go, so expect me to drag myself out of the briny and up into the big blue sky any day soon! And beyond that I'll be Plurking and Plazing on my mobile phone.

Yes indeed, it's time to get with the program or risk legions of smarmy Gen-Y fake tan purveyors snickering at us as we get our Twitters confused with our facebooks.

A big thanks to: Richard Giles from Recommendations Ventures and scouta.com; Bronwen Clune, CEO of Norg Media, founder of perthnorg.com.au; and Steven Taylor from Creative Nature Communications who has been using the interwebs since the days when Commodore 64s were still being traded on the open market.

One last thing - I know all three of you have got your information long-lines dangling in the briny waiting for any company mentions via Google Alert, so if you do happen to sail past The Perth Files, please be sure to leave me a message.

Gas crisis, what crisis?

Since Carps captured the airwaves last night to advise us to stop burning so much gas, there have already been a few grumblings among those who feel it's their God given right to chew through our natural resources, no matter how finite they might be. To these people, the pipeline explosion may as well have taken place on Uranus for all they care...

Anyway, I'm convinced that those who flaunt the call to turn down the gas are the same people who steadfastly refuse to obey water restrictions and would defend their right to have a green lawn (and a warm house) with sawn-off shotguns, if they could only convince the powers that be that guns are good. Yes, while I'm outside hosing the leaves off my driveway, I demand the right to fire up the Rinnai space heater... and I'll leave all the lights on as well, so ner!

I'm sure that these people are a small minority, but if anyone out there really does feel aggrieved at the thought of having to layer up to beat the chill instead of hitting a switch, they should remember how the gas crisis could be so much worse. This Wikipedia extract gives you some context:

The fire at the plant was not extinguished until two days later. The Longford plant was shut down immediately, and the state of Victoria was left without its primary gas supplier. Within days, the Victorian Energy Network Corporation shut down the state's entire gas supply.

The sudden crisis was devastating to Victoria's economy, crippling industry and the commercial sector (in particular, the hospitality industry which relied on natural gas for cooking).

Natural gas is also widely used residentially in Victoria for hot water and gas heating, and Victorians endured 20 days of cold showers and chilly nights.

Gas supplies to Victoria were resumed on 14 October. Many Victorians were outraged and upset to discover only minor compensation on their next gas bill, with the average compensation figure being only around $10.

Yes, I was living in Melbourne at the time and while we Perthites do cop our early morning chills, imagine living with days on end where the temperature struggles to get beyond 12 degrees at any stage. Then try and imagine how having NO gas would affect you. And when I say no gas, I mean having your gas turned off at the meter and $5,000 fines if you get caught turning them back on.

Having no gas means no hot showers for a start, unless you have an electric hot water system. Oh joy, struggle out of bed at 5am and spend the next 30 minutes boiling the kettle non-stop to get enough hot water for a sponge bath. Those brave enough, or in desperate need of a proper hair wash, simply ran the gauntlet and endured an ice cold shower. Bracing, very bracing.

Of course, those with electric systems found their houses resembling the old Rottnest Island shower building, with people lined up, shower cap in hand.

And then there were those who gave up on bathing... I met quite a few of them on the public transport system. A fragrant bunch.

So, you can't shower, but maybe you can make up for it with a nice cooked breakfast? No, not if you're like many people who have a gas stove and oven. Suddenly every night is Lean Cuisine night. In the evenings you sit cold and slightly stinky in front of the flameless gas heater, chewing miserably on your TV dinner, watching the news for reports on those shameless parasitic scumbags who dare turn their gas back on.

A lot of children were spawned on those dark cold nights, so here's a thought! Rather than procrastinate about turning down the heating, do the wise thing and procreate instead - your country will thank you...

Friday the 13th

I'm not normally spooked by Friday the 13th, or the number 13 in general - both my wife and sister were born on the 13th and I'm yet to find the number of the beast tatooed on their heads... I have looked though.

However, this Friday the 13th was different, thanks largely to that blonde woman of indeterminate age on TV who reportedly used to be Kerrie Anne Kennerly.

Yes, I was doing the dad at home routine and inbetween mopping up sodden toast crusts and soiled nappies I sat down to check out Mornings with Kerrie-Anne, just to see how the old girl was travelling. When I worked at Channel Nine in Melbourne for a year, I shared an office with a larger than life framed photo of Kezza and a box of muesli once owned by Frankie J Holden, so I look on her as on old friend... how old I'm not exactly sure.

Anyway, after initially being taken aback by the bigger than big hair and ever deepening cleavage, I noted that she'd taken on a Friday the 13th theme - gravestones, plastic skeletons, lava lamps (WTF?) etc. And all her guests were involved with 'spooky stuff', including a white witch with a head of hair that looked like a stage prop... or a well groomed mop.

One of the the statistics they threw up on the show was that on Friday the 13th there is a 60% increase in traffic accidents. Great, I was taking the baby, a three-year-old and my son on a trip half way across Perth later that day and not only was I taking on Australia's worst drivers, I was now 60% more likely to encounter one that was totally wigged-out by superstitious Friday the 13th voodoo shit.

But hey, the weather was good, visibility excellent and the people mover in better working order than most Qantas jets... so off we went.

All went well for the first third of the journey and we were almost at the Leach Highway exit on the freeway when my nuff-nuff radar burst into action. Hello, hello, those boxes on the back of that ute don't look too stable. Hmmm, why is he driving like that. Okay, let's hope that box about to topple onto the road is empty...

Of course it wasn't empty. It was full. It was full of a large piece of steel, commonly refered to as a washing machine. Box hits freeway 10 metres in front of me, I brake slowly but forcefully, washing machine comes flying out of the box and skids across into the centre lane in a shower of sparks. Luckily, no one was in that lane next to me and even luckier still that the freakin' thing didn't head straight back into the people mover - I don't know what would happen if you hit a washing machine at 80 clicks, but it can't be good.

So we continued on our journey and finally got home safely, with nairy a whitegood in sight for the remainder of the trip.

Next year I'll stay at home and do a few loads of washing instead. And if the Miele even looks like trying to go me, I'll give it a swift clip around the soap tray. Thanks Kezza.

Bring back Boston Legal at 9.30!

Going off topic, I just wanted to vent for a moment about Channel Seven's decision to air the particularly lame, run of the mill new crime offering Criminal Minds at 9.30pm on Monday nights.

My beef? It pushes Boston Legal, arguably television's finest offering right now, out to a 10.30pm timeslot which is too 'effing late for this little black duck.

In recent weeks I've enjoyed ending my Monday nights with William Shatner and James Spader as they ponder the week just gone over a cognac and Cuban cigar on the balcony of their Boston condo... it's funny, it's irreverent, it's politically incorrect and it doesn't involve a bunch of scowling crime geeks solving some half arsed crime that no one gives a toss about anyway.

I'm sorry, but I'm so over the CSI-style television genre that I was never on the bandwagon in the first place.

I seem to recall the same fate afflicting The Sopranos and the West Wing... not good enough! It's bad enough when regular shows are pushed back by the likes of So You Think You Can Dance, Sing, Skate, Perform Open Heart Surgery, without this sort of blatant 'up yours' programming.

If you want to have your say, send 'em an email: programs@7perth.com.au

UPDATE:

I just got this email back from Channel Seven in response to my complaint and it's not good news:

Dear Mr Cooke

Thank you for your email.

We appreciate the time you have taken to contact us, as it is only through viewers such as yourself that we can gauge reactions to our programming.

Unfortunately Boston Legal has not attracted enough viewers for it to remain in the 9.30pm timeslot.

Regards

Janine Vidot
Program Department
Channel Seven Perth

So, people... we have a problem. I forsee a day when television will be comprised entirely of reality TV shows and crime dramas... with a sprinkle of Desperate Housewives to keep the Sex in the City brigade happy.

Maybe instead of relying entirely on numbers, potential advertisers should crunch the demographics and target a specific market, ie, today we'll try and sell our product in to 1.5 million people with a brain as opposed to 7 million people who are still trying to work out if it's feasible to microwave your own hand.

FFS, if a great show like Boston Legal can't hold down a 9.30pm timeslot on a Monday night, the future of clever TV is doomed.

Perth as it used to be... and still is

Ahhh, the good old days - all this joint needs is a bit of lawn!

I reckon if this was the scene facing us today, the developers would be licking their lips and falling over themselves to prepare concepts for a waterfront tourism precinct.

Amazingly, apart from the mud flats making way for the lawn, things haven't changed that much. They've spruced Kings Park up a bit and knocked up a bridge to let West Coast supporters across to the other side of the river (bad move), but essentially us West Aussies continue the tradition of frocking up and heading to the big hill overlooking the city to check out the view.

They also had a lot less blue green algie back in the day and I hear you could net a bucket of king prawns the size of a truckie's forearm in a lazy half hour. These days you're more likely to bag the odd blind mullet, but there are still plenty of red herrings to keep things interesting.

Fantasy Island

While the conservative elements pour scorn on the development of the Perth waterfront, it would seem that the likes of Troy 'Sniffer' Buswell are prepared to consider the construction of a whacking great island off the coast at Rous Head in North Fremantle.

The $10 billion project which would bring a touch of Dubai to the West Coast has been snubbed outright by Carps, but some factions among the Libs reckon it's worth a look.

Now I know The Perth Files has been banging on of late about how Perth City needs to connect to the river, but I'm not suggesting that we uproot the CBD and plonk it down mid-stream! That stretch of coastline at North Freo has already undergone its fair share of jiggery-poke to meet the needs of the Port and residential development and any further incursion into the sea poses the risk of forever damaging some of our best metropolitan beaches.

Does anyone else remember that only a couple of years ago a trip to Leighton meant keeping an eye out for large chunks of concrete and limestone debris being hurled at you in the dumping shore break?

Yeah, well it's all good now, but start dicking about with the shape of the coastline once again and who knows what sort of shore we'll end up with... not that the cashed-up elite sipping G&Ts on their island decking hogging the views of Rottnest will give a toss.

I do believe the outcome we've seen in Mandurah is a case in point - very nice for those that do, but 'thanks for coming, but don't let the door at the fish 'n' chip shop hit you on the arse on your way home'.

First things first - let's get some sensible development happening on the Perth waterfront and then maybe we can take a look at Gilligan's Island. And it's worth remembering that our kids will be researching retirement village options long before the first concrete slab on a proposal like this is even poured.

The Lucky Shag...

I had an interesting chat over the weekend about all this waterfront development hoo-ha with a bloke from the UK who knows a thing or two about tourism and the creation of city entertainment precincts.

We first caught up some months ago, both stretched out on a large tract of grass in the midst of well heeled Claremont watching our kids play cricket.

When conversation on the subject of gout drew to its painful conclusion, we turned to another topic of much angst - how boring Perth is.

I asked him his views on our fair city, having lived much of his life in the throbbing metropolis of London, and his answer went something like this:

'The day after I arrived I wandered out of my hotel, across Langley Park and took a long walk along the river. And you know what I thought, why would anyone want to change this, it's spectacular!

"I did the same thing the next day and again, couldn't understand why they wanted to change the waterfront.

"The following day the excitement started to wane just a little. After a week I looked out of my hotel window and decided, bugger it, I'm bored shitless and I went in search of somewhere on the river where I could grab a coffee and some breakfast.

"That's what led me past the entirely uninspiring bell tower, onto the Barrack Street Jetty and into... no way, you're taking the pish... The Lucky Shag".

We both chuckled over this, checked to make sure our kids weren't hitting each other with cricket bats and then mused on what could be done. Before too long the Sunday morning gout was playing up again, the kids were pouring 'raw' Milo down their throats (sponsor) and it was time to fire up the people mover for the trip home.

We agreed to talk further over a few beers at Perth's premium waterfront entertainment spot, The Lucky Shag... who knows, we might just get lucky!

Dig up the lawn now!

I was sitting in the small room the other evening, perusing my local press, when a letter to the editor caught my eye headed up 'Disneyland effect not worthy of Perth'.

Hello, hello, I thought, here's another one of the 'get up early, go to bed early' brigade having a whinge about the proposed ferris wheel. And sure enough, that's exactly what Tony G of Mount Hawthorn targeted in his ill informed tirade.

Now, the idea of a ferris wheel on the Swan doesn't exactly light my candles, but then I don't think this whole issue is about a ferris wheel - it could be a giant model of a dog t@#d and it would still make the same point... the Perth foreshore is as boring as bat faeces and hardly anyone ever uses all that "beautiful, wide open space" as Tony writes.

This ferris wheel is all about plonking something large and distracting into an area that is grossly underutilised to make people sit up and think, 'crikey, maybe we could make better use of that space?'

You see, us Perthites suffer from a rare and degenerative condition know as 'Lawnis-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 purposes.

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 greedy developers are cramming as many dwellings as possible on what were once single home blocks.

But while new homes aren't infected with Lawn Fever, the minds of our good citizens still are and they will do all they can to protect these patches of turf that may as well be painted concrete for all the good they're worth - at least concrete doesn't suck up rain and groundwater at a rate that makes your eyes spin.

So what's this got to do with Perth City? Aha, you see just as our suburbs were infected with this disease, so was the city itself. Langley Park and all those other parks that stretch from the front door mats of our city buildings, right down to Riverside Drive and beyond, to meet the uninspiring concrete retainer wall at the Swan River, are our city's front lawn.

Sure, a few office workers wander down there to eat lunch... 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 half cut on Australia Day, draped in the Aussie flag, tapping your toes to 'You're the Voice' while you watched barges catch fire on the river?

Our city waterfront is a joke. Sure, as Tony writes 'we have one of the world's best views from Kings Park', but Tony, 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...'

I want a city that I can use. One that connects me to the river in a meaningful way. I would enjoy that view a damn site better if I was right next to it, enjoying a good meal or a few drinks with friends, excited about being in the city... not embarrassed about the fact that the only place we can go riverside is at the old Swan Brewery, or The Lucky Shag.

If Perth City was a meal dished up to Gordon Ramsay, his retort would no doubt be, "F*&@'s sake, what is this shit".

Tony, you ask 'Why is there this notion that Perth is not as good as other cities?' Well, that'd be because it's not. Take a stroll around Northbridge at 1.00am, or a leisurely jaunt along Murray Street one day. Better still, try St Georges Tce after close of business hours - see what I mean? No, it doesn't look as good as it does from Kings Park does it? BUT IT COULD!!!

Melbourne has a river that you can almost jump over and they do things better than us. In Brisbane it was only a few years ago that outside dining was considered a crime against God and yet they do it better than us.

So Tony, don't worry about the freakin ferris wheel, just try and consider that if we've got that much open space sitting around doing nothing, then maybe it's time we got a bit creative and dug up the front lawn once and for all.

Crap Elvis is on the road

Former 96fm funnyman, pommy geezer, ant impersonator and all round top bloke, Matt Hale, is on the road for a world tour in his latest guise, Crap Elvis.

Yes, not content to take on the world in a selection of long shorts and loud shirts, Matty instead opted for a crap $30 Elvis suit and hence, Crap Elvis was born.

I recall discussing the plan late last December over a number of drinks at the PPR Christmas Party, where oddly enough he was in civvies while I was doing my best Crap John Belushi, aka Jake from The Blues Brothers, impersonation.

Little did we both know that the concept would engulf the world media faster than a West Aussie bushfire, sparked largely by a 'Hunka, Hunka, Burning Toast'. Yes, while the US script writers have put away their pencil sharpeners, Matty is on fire, penning such greats as 'Be My Terrorist' - 'strap a bomb around my waist and put a bomb on it, oh let me be, your terrorist'.

The toast of the Parkes Elvis Festival in regional New South Wales, Crap Elvis has swept all before him in taking out awards for being the worst looking and worst sounding Elvis EVER.

In an exclusive interview with The Perth Files, Crap Elvis has confirmed that his crapness has exceeded even his wildest expectations. "I knew I was crap, but until you actually get up on stage and convince the crowd to start waving their toast in the air, you can't know just how utterly crap you can be - it comes from a place deep inside me," Crap explained.

Take heed world, Crap Elvis is coming your way and I for one can't wait to see the footage of our man in the cheap faux satin suit belting out a rousing rendition of 'Be My Terrorist' at the Alabama State Fair and White Supremacy Convention.

Pot calling the kettle a monkey?

Nah, calling a bloke a monkey isn't racist - what's wrong with Andrew Symonds, can't he take a joke? Instead he should have given Singh a friendly punch on the shoulder, called him a curry munching rag head, had a good laugh and trotted back to mid on and got on with it... crikey, sensitive or what!

But Brad Hogg, well... talk about stepping over the mark. Fancy calling someone a BASTARD! The ICC should suspend him immediately and put him through a three month anger management course - yep, I've always thought that affable sheep farmer with the overactive tongue approach was simply a front for a very angry, angry, spiteful man.

And Gilchrist! Oh yes, all well and good to spend most of his free weekends in Perth helping out at the local Auskick and Have a Go Cricket Clinics, then drop in for a visit to Ronald McDonald House where he's the Patron... but it's all a ruse! Underneath that good guy exterior is an evil genius plotting the downfall of subcontinent cricket with his evil primate mates Ponting and Symonds.

It's a disgrace I tells ya - sack 'em all!

What right does the ICC have to believe that Singh called Symonds a monkey? It's not as though he's done it before has he? Oh dear, he has?

Anil Kumble, what a vision of sportsmanship - how does the saying go? 'I'm pulling up my stumps and going home, screw you guys'. Good on him. Nothing like a good old whinge over a bowl of sour grapes when you lose a game of cricket I say.

And while you're at it, why not really spit the dummy and play tit-for-tat on abuse accusations - you reported our leading spin bowler, so we'll report yours... nah, nah, nah! But come on Kumble, 'bastard' is a term of abuse that's hardly likely to change the course of international relations, how about dragging out the 'C' word, or maybe you could say he called you a 'bitch' or 'ho' to make it a cross gender thing.

At the end of the day the most satisfying outcome is seeing the good people of India rightiously going about their business of burning effigies of black men (the other black men), most notably Symonds and Bucknor. Boy oh boy, and the t-shirts are a great touch - how imaginative and so subtle in their message - what a great time to be an Indian cricket supporter!

What the ICC has to recognise is that it isn't the world body in cricket - it's the Board of Control for Cricket in India. It's a cheek that the Indian side should even have to leave its own shores!

I for one will be wearing my best gorrilla suit to the WACA test and proudly putting my Bic lighter to the Australian flag - enough of all this monkey business and let's hear it for the Turbinator!