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.

Vote YES for daylight savings

Quite frankly, I'm getting sick of having to be in at the office at 6.00am for a teleconference with my Eastern States colleagues in summer.

It peeves me no end that I'm usually well and truly tucked up in bed when my Melbourne mates are welcoming in the new year... especially when they call me.

And I get really, really cranky when darkness falls over Perth just when you think it'd be a great idea to get out and enjoy a balmy summer evening.

Come on Perth, wake up and smell the sunshine! We live in a state that enjoys the best climate in - dare I say it - the world and here we are shutting up shop, pulling down the shutters and hiding ourselves away in small dark holes one hour earlier than the rest of the country.

Oh, sorry... Queensland is also yet to embrace daylight savings. Gee, aint it just super that we've got the banana benders on our side - didn't they reprieve prohibition laws just last year?

Maybe if we introduced daylight savings we could start eating at more reasonable hours too. Perth is the only place I know where there is a culture of hitting restaurants on the dot of 6.00pm and washing down the last forkfull of tiramasui with the last drop of Black Tower (possibly Blue Nun) before the clock hits 7.30pm.

In the Eastern States eating at 6.00pm is considered a late lunch. But that's the thing about Perth, everything starts early and finishes early AND you can't go shopping on a Sunday. God knows it's only been in recent years that we haven't had to look up our nearest 'roster' petrol station to buy fuel after hours.

I reckon that if I live in a state with the highest property prices, rental costs on a par with New York, trading hours tighter than a fish's sphinctre and traffic lights that never change (more on this later), then I deserve an extra hour of sunlight during summer.

Of course I know that the curtains will fade and the cows won't know when it's milking time, but we can live with that. Yes, I know the kids can't get to sleep because it's still light, but here's a tip - buy yourself some of those heavy, non-fadable curtains and the little ones will never know! Besides, when it's 48 degrees, who's sleeping anyway!

So, make your mark - vote now and vote often! YES to daylight savings in WA.

Pass it on to as many friends as you can.

The Brownlow's Biggest Goose Award

Ladies and gentlemen, the 3-2-1 for Biggest Brownlow Goose - displaying juvenile and drunken antics before a national TV audience - and the winners are:

3rd place: Brendan Fevola - half cut before round 1, wild gesticulations and an obvious inability to focus by round 6. One-eyed by round 12.

2nd place: Brendon Lade - looked almost studious in glasses until round 4, then polled quickly with his 'beer coaster on the schnozz' routine. You can take the bogan out of Port Adelaide...

And the winner is!

1st place: Travis Johnstone - was in high spirits from the outset, polling strongly with ill-advised and unwanted kisses to the cheeks of his team mates. Secured top spot with a lick to the face of a teammate in the dying rounds. Rumours involving a male nipple have yet to be confirmed.

Honorary mention: Daniel Kerr - for tearing up when he suddenly realised he was in the hunt... But he wasn't - GOLD!

Also, what the hell was going on with Judd's hair? He'll have to use that lip-bush as a comb over if he loses any more on top.

Well done to Adam Goodes and commiserations to Scotty West who has had legitimate claims on the Brownlow for years now - I'm sure he'll give it a run again next year, but he'll have to hold off a rampaging Pavlich.

Bedroom Secrets of the Master Chefs

Aye laddie, that wee buftie Irvine Welsh is up to his usual tricks once again, dragging us along a cold and blustery Leith Walk by the scruff of the neck and promising lewdness, drink, drugs, sexual excess, football violence and... romance?

Yes, the dark prince of Scotland is back with his latest novel, the Bedroom Secrets of the Master Chefs and a new anti-hero in the likes of hedonistic party boy Danny Skinner - a council restaurant inspector who likes a wee bevvie or 10, plus a bit of the "white powder... just to give me the edge".

His nemesis is the new boy on the block, anorak-toting stick figure Brian Kibby - Treckie, 'Hyp Hiker', model railway enthusiast and a compulsive masturbator.

When the two cross paths in the workplace a chain of events is set in motion, born from Skinner's fierce, almost supernatural hatred of his young nemesis. The resulting plot twist gives flight to Welsh's glorious ability to capture and deliver tales of hedonistic debauchery so wrong that they fairly reek of old fag ends, stale sex and endless pints of lager.

Add to this Skinner's sad search for the father he never knew - he told the kids in school that it was Joe Strummer - and a salubrious slice of seedy Edinburgh kitchen life... Welsh at his realist best.

But it's when Skinner's transposed to the West Coast of the US that the reader is really treated to the comedic genius of Welsh's complex characters and the keen observations that only they can make.

Aye, it's not for the feint hearted or the "dinguls" of this world, but for those of us who ken what this gadge is on aboot, it's a f*****in good laff!

TNT - Freo's Dynamite!

The new tradition at the end of Fremantle games, following a win, is for the AC/DC classic TNT to be played at a raucous volume over the loudspeakers - it's become our unofficial club anthem.

And doesn't it just rock! On Friday night it was rumoured that Bon Scott himself had scaled the fence at Freo cemetery and was on his way to Subi.

Taking the song to the next level I thought I'd do a bit of re-working and give it a bit of the purple passion treatment:

FFC

See us run out of the centre square
On your plasma TV screen
We're the purple passion, yeah!
If you know what I mean
Runners to the left of me
And runners to the right
They ain't got no passion
They ain't got no heart
So don't you start no fight

'Cause we're Fremantle, we're dynamite
(Fremantle) and we'll win the fight
(Fremantle) A purple power load
(Fremantle) watch us explode

We're dirty, mean, the fastest you've seen
Each one a wanted man
Purple enemy number one
Understand
So lock up your goal square
Lock up your wing
Lock up your backline
And get ready for the sting
The Dockers are back in town
So don't you mess us 'round

'Cause we're Fremantle, we're dynamite
(Fremantle) and we'll win the fight
(Fremantle) A purple power load
(Fremantle) watch us explode

Fremantle, (oi, oi, oi)
Fremantle, (oi, oi, oi)
Fremantle, (oi, oi, oi)
Fremantle, (oi, oi, oi)
Fremantle, (oi, oi, oi) , we're dynamite
(Fremantle, oi, oi, oi), and we'll win the fight,
(Fremantle, oi, oi, oi), A purple power load
(Fremantle), watch us explode!

AFL Grand Final one game closer...

The mighty Freo Dockers dispatched their Demons quite literally on Friday night before the most vocal AFL crowd in the history of the game - well, at Subiaco Oval at least.

It was a solid win, but next week looms as the biggest test in the port club's 11-year history.

Will big bad Bazza Hall snap our rosy cheeked Bahai Luke in two? Will Josh Carr be seduced by sequins and the lure of the Gay Mardi Gras? Will the 75,000 people in the crowd realise that this is AFL and not that other game where blokes throw the ball around and jam their heads up each other's backsides?

Only time will tell, but for now the tinitis of 43,000 people belting out a throat scorching version of AC/DC's TNT reminds me that we're still in the hunt - just one more win...

* Pic: 'The Door is Open'

The West Coast Eagles SUCK!

Now, the main focus of all Fremantle supporters right now is obviously knocking over the Dees and securing Sandi an aisle seat on a jumbo heading for Siderknee a week later.

But, in true Docker spirit, the team at www.dockerland.com couldn't resist making the most of an opportunity to well and truly stick it to our cross-town, chardy sipping neighbours - the West Coast Eagles, *retch!*.

So, while we're enjoying the game on Friday night, all Dockers supporters are being encouraged to download and print off the above sticker - link below - and stick it on the seat in front of them.

The train of thought is that many of the stickers will survive until the next day, when the seats will be occupied by the blue and yellow Wet Toast brigade - imagine the fury, the spilt plonk, the clash of furious knitting needles... priceless!!!

http://www.dockerland.com/sticker.html

"This picture is intended for your own personal use and Dockerland does not encouraging vandalism etc".

Gearing up for the AFL Premiership

This is it folks... the Dockers are three wins shy of being the AFL Premiers - the best side in this national competition, or as Steve Irwin may have described them, 'the duck's guts'.

We take on the Adelaide Crows this Saturday and if we turn them into humble pie for the second time in a month, it's straight into the preliminary final.

We're the underdogs, the team without finals experience, the team that surely has to drop a game at some stage... but with all that, we're also the team with 11 years of fire in the belly and a purple passion that's set to explode like TNT.

AND, we've got Jeff 'The Purple Jesus' Farmer on our side - bring it on!

By Crikey - Steve Irwin dead

There's been a mini shockwave travel through the office... the king of 'Crikey', the man lambasted for dangling his baby over the jaws of a rabid croc, the man who was second only to Hoges in upping the Aussie "struth!" factor - Steve Irwin - is dead.

It's a sad day - I feel terrible for the family that he onviously loved so dearly (despite the croc dangling incident), but if he was going to bite the big one, well, a stingray barb to the heart is pretty fitting way to do it.

His gravestone would have to read: 'By crikey this bloke loved life and fair dinkum, didn't he have a good one...'

RIP

BREAKING NEWS: Steve "The Crocodile Hunter" Irwin is reportedly dead after being stung by a sting-ray during the filming of a new TV series.

The Courier Mail has reported the 43-year-old had a heart seizure after a sting-ray barb went through his chest off the Low Islands in North Queensland, near Port Douglas.

Irwin has been transported to Cairns Hospital.

Fremantle finals party pack

There's a sniff of purple in the air... the mighty Fremantle Dockers are marching towards September action and we're feeling confident about our chances for the first time since inception.

For my fellow Freophiles out there, gearing up for the critical game against Port tomorrow night, get ready to gear up in traditional / rave / head-banging style with the Freo Finals Party Pack that has been lovingly complied by fellow Freo blogger and dockerland.com regular Range-Raver.

Not only do you get the club song and his fabulous Purple Passion re-mix, you also get that adrenalin pumping post-win favoutite, TNT - ahhhhh, ACCA-DACCA's never sounded sooooo good!

http://rangeraver-lounge.blogspot.com

And if you're in the market for a Flashing Purple Anchor or three (who wouldn't be!) or a snack mid-game - maybe some delish wasabe roasted green peas - drop in to the Angry Almond at Subi Markets:

http://www.angryalmond.com

Where am I?

Apologies for my tardiness in posting over the past couple of months, but to be frank, I've been so bloody busy I've hardly had time for the proverbial 'scratch'.

Lord knows I've got plenty I want to talk about, but between work and my unnatural preoccupation with the Fremantle Dockers... oh, and my family... there seems time for little else.

Besides, the callouses on my two typing fingers are fit to burst, so like a good AFL coach, I'm resting them for the sake of my long term blogging career. Too many bloggers have made the mistake of simply having anaesthetic injections in their fingers so they can keep on typing week in, week out, only to finish up crippled at an early age.

I will be back...

The Howard and Costello stoush

All this talk of "hubris" and "humility" between the Howard and Costello show is driving me to drink... c'mon boys, let's settle this leadership dispute the fair way: get Janet to grease you both up with a mixture of vaseline and dencorub, then put you in a plastic wading pool full of KY Jelly and let you slug it out!

Now eyebrows, before you get started on Costello's advantage because of his longer reach, remember that your arse is closer to the ground, therefore giving you added stability.

Of course, to make matters even fairer, how about we have lil' Lexie Downer as the judge and we send in about 400 peace keeping troops to quell any civic unrest... obviously we'll have to ask George Dubbya for his permission on this one.

Speaking of Dubbya, get him and his mate Dick Cheney over for the gig - tell 'em to bring Dickie Pound too just in case you boys try and slip in a few roids to gain the upper hand.

And a word of warning - there will be no punches to the nads ala Danny Kerr, or any Hopoate 'digit in the date' action... Johnny, don't look at me like that, look at moi, loooka moi!

Oh and did I say you'll be wearing nappies during this showdown? Ahhhh, Aussie politics, who needs the World Cup???

Chaos and bloodshed on Perth streets!

Rampaging Bell Towers, decapitated politicians and chaos across the city... another typical Perth day really.