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!

Sunday trading - grow up Perth!

Good lord, we have wall to wall Labor governments, we have daylight savings and at last someone looks like taking the Japanese to task over their obsession with ingesting blubber...

AND, the state government is pushing the Sunday trading bandwagon, that has until now been more of a Sunday trading shopping trolley, complete with dodgy wheels and a distinct lack of direction.

Now I've said it about 47 times and I'll say it again, wake up and smell the coffee Perth, Sunday trading is not going to be the next Y2K (gee, so nothing happened there either?); it is not going to raise Satan from his fiery lair to smote us in our sleep; it is NOT going to cause prices to rise!

Can we please shut up with the notion that Sunday is a family day, hence the shops should remain closed so we can all sit around the fondue set knitting scarves and playing UNO... eff off!!! With three kids, every day is a frigging family day for me, so why the hell can't I go and buy something on a Sunday? Would it be okay if I took the kids?

I do not enjoy the mad scramble to shop on a Saturday morning and as all parents will know, Thursday nights are a nightmare... Sunday is good. Hey, church opens on a Sunday, so what about Harvey Norman?

Okay, that last comment might be somewhat below the belt, but this town is exasperating and drives a man to the edge of reason... come on folks, embrace the change and the next person who says 'if it aint broke, don't fix it' cops it in the neck.

Movember update

Lordy, lordy, pants on fire - this is the day 13 mark and I am Mr Dodgy with his prickly slo-gro mo-fo mo... bro.

Movember - pledge your support!

During Movember (the month formerly known as November) men, young and old, across Australia will be cultivating some form of growth on their collective upper lips.

This year Cookster has signed up to become a Mo Bro to help change the state of men's health and to join the fight against male depression and prostate cancer.
Current statistics show that:

Depression affects 1 in 6 men...Most don't seek help. Untreated depression is a leading risk factor for suicide.

Last year in Australia 18,700 men were diagnosed with prostate cancer and more than 2,900 died of prostate cancer - equivalent to the number of women who die from breast cancer annually.

Men are far less healthy than women. The average life expectancy of males is 5 years less than females.

If you would like to sponsor my Mo can go to http://www.movember.com/au/donate enter my registration number which is 75928 and your credit card details. Or you can sponsor me by cheque made payable to the "Movember Foundation" clearly marking the donation as being for my Registration Number: 75928. Please mail cheques to: PO Box 292, Prahran VIC 3181. All donations over $2 are tax deductible.

The money raised by Movember is donated to the Prostate Cancer Foundation of Australia and beyondblue - the national depression initiative, which will use the funds to create awareness, fund research and increase support networks for those men who suffer from prostate cancer and male depression.

For those that have supported Movember in previous years you can be very proud of the impact it has had and can check out the detail at: Fundraising Outcomes.

More info is available at www.movember.com
GO THE MO!!!

Golf legends coming to Perth

Legends of international golf, including Ian Baker-Finch and Jan Stephenson, will gather in Perth for the Handa Australia Cup at Nedlands Golf Club on Saturday 27 and Sunday 28 October 2007.

The Handa Australia Cup is the world’s only golf tournament to feature male and female golfing legends playing alongside the next generation of golfing stars, including the leading junior boy and girl from each state. It is also the only competition where male and female golfers compete for the same trophy.

The competition was founded by Japanese businessman and philanthropist Haruhisa Handa, who is also the Honorary Patron of the International Blind Golf Association.

“The Handa Australia Cup is about joining the generations – bringing together rising stars and past champions in one unique tournament,” Dr Handa explained.

Competing in the Senior Female category will be legends such as Jan Stephenson, Jane Blalock, Alicia Dibos and Cindy Rarick. These legends will compete alongside some of the world’s greatest male golfing icons, including Ian Baker-Finch, Roger Davis, Wayne Grady and 2006 champion Garry Merrick.

The 2007 Handa Australia Cup marks the return of golfing great Ian Baker-Finch to professional tournament golf after a five year break. “We are very excited that Ian has chosen to play our tournament and it’s a real honour to have him in Perth for his professional return,” said Tournament Chairman Wayne Smith.

Now in its second year, the 36 hole event will be preceded by a Pro Am on Friday, 26 October and the Australian Blind Golf Championship – Australian Open tournament from Tuesday 23 to Thursday 25 October.

The purse for the senior men and women professionals will be AU$100,000. This is the second largest senior purse in Australia, surpassed only by the Handa Australian Senior Open Championship and the Legends Tour Open Championship to be played the following week at Concord Golf Club in Sydney.

Spectators for the Handa Australia Cup are welcome and entry is free. For further information contact Tournament Coordinator Gemma Liddelow at Vault Sports Management: gemma.liddelow@vaultsm.com or (08) 9228 0877.

What: Handa Australia Cup
Where: Nedlands Golf Club, Melvista Avenue, Nedlands
When: Saturday 27 and Sunday 28 October 2007 – daily tee off will commence at approximately 10.30am. The Pro-Am on Friday 26 October will have a shot gun start at 12.00pm.

Apologies...

I have been a very tardy correspondent of late and I blame Facecrack for this malaise... I've also been BUSY at my place of work and of late been as crook as a dog (love that saying!) with some kind of flu.

For now look me up at facebook, but I shall return to the blogosphere soon...

A letter to John Howard

Dear Mr Howard

I know things are tough for you at the moment. It can't be much fun having that fishnet tight wearing, woolly haired chap constantly knocking on your door and then running away giggling when you open it - beware if you find a piece of flaming toilet paper on the mat, I wouldn't put it past that rosy cheeked buffoon to give that prank an outing.

And of course there's that fellow they call 'Dog' slobbering down your well starched collar, breathing his meaty breath and always whining about not getting the most comfy chair in the house.

Dreadful stuff for a man of your imposing stature to have to endure and you can bet there will be no apologies when the fat's in the fire and that platinum haired doyen of the strip circuit is firmly ensconced in the Lodge purveying his latest collection of Fyshwick-sourced jazz magazines.

But John, if I may call you that, I digress here. What I really wanted to ask you is a very simple question - where exactly is the BOOM you talk about? You know, the one that has given us untold riches and made life under your government such a joy for the past decade.

Call me stupid, but I can't seem to find this boom anywhere. I went to my real estate agent to see if it was there, but they just told me to wake up to myself and forget about buying a house unless I wanted a one room shed on the outskirts of Goomalling. Then they increased my rent by $100 a week, shoved me through the exit and told me to make sure the door didn't hit me on the arse on the way out.

John, I'm now paying 45% more in rental costs than I was 18 months ago. Is that the boom?

John, my wage has increased by around 5%, is that all part of your plan too?

So I rubbed my tender backside, picked myself up off the footpath and went down to the local supermarket to put a lay-by on half a kilo of bananas. Then I looked around and marvelled at just how expensive everything had become. For the most part of your reign John I had lived in Melbourne, but now I'm back in the boomingest town of them all and accordingly, prices have boomed as well! Unfortunately I don't have any claims on rich iron ore deposits or deep wells of natural gas, but jolly good show for those people who do.

Even a bag of ice is more expensive in Perth... dear, I've made a pun in poor taste. Oh well, such is life.

So moving on, I headed for home stopping by the petrol station on the way where prices are at least 30 cents a litre more expensive that three years ago and called in to pick up a pizza that would have cost me half the price in 2001.

At home the letterbox was cheerfully chockers with bills, including my private health insurance which has risen well beyond the much touted 30% rebate you introduced some years ago John. Indeed, exponentially the cost of running a household really has boomed over the past decade.

So, dear John, I know you have a lot on your parliamentary plate right now, but if you could see your way clear to point a bit of this boom in my direction, It'd be much appreciated. Even if you could help me pay off the lay-by on the nannas and hurry up with that baby bonus cheque, it would certainly help.

Thanks John and good luck with the election. If I was you I'd be pocketing a bit of boom and heading down to your local strip club to slide a few rock lobsters into willing g-strings - just don't take Lexie, he'll want to join in.

Best regards
John

Walk on the wild side...

Apologies to Lou Reed...

Benny came from Perth, m.d.m.a
Went to rehab in the u.s.a.
Plucked his eyebrows on the way
Shaved his chest and then he was released
He says, hey babe, I run away from the booze guys
Said, hey man, run away from the booze guys

Danny came from out in Girawheen
In the backroom he was everybody's dream
But he always lost his head
A taxi driver's blood was shed
He says, hey babe, get me off this assault charge
Said, hey babe, get me off this assault charge
And the toasters go Boo, boo, boo, etc

Little Chick never once gave it away
All the umps were happy to pay and pay
A hustle here and a finger there
The Seven Seas is the place where they said
Hey babe, you're a bit on the fried side
I said hey Chicky, you're a bit on the fried side

Sugar plum Joshy came and hit some beaks
Lookin for bird flesh and a face to beat
Went to the Cuzzy bro
You should have seen him go go go
They said, hey Benny, take a look at a real side
I said, hey Cuzzy, take a look at a real side
All right, huh

Blackie is just speeding away
Thought he was james dean on the day
Then he had to crash the pack
Danny's prescription would have helped that whack
He said, hey Danny, watch out for your blind side
I said, hey honey, watch out for your blind side
And the e-girls say....

Fremantle's new Premier coaching panel

Word on the street is that Victorian Premier Steve Bracks and his Deputy John Thwaites have stepped down from the top job to form the nucleus of a new 'uber-coaching panel' at Fremantle.The pair are said to be loading the station wagon for the trip across the Nullarbor as we speak, with Thwaitsy just securing the last of the occy straps around the surf ski.

Sources report that a third party will be travelling with the Premiership pair, a bloke named Kevin who reportedly spent much of this morning purchasing supplies from Liquorland Moonee Ponds.

In a statement released today, Mr Bracks said:

"We've always loved a bit of a surf and a paddle and quite frankly Perth beaches shit all over that effluent riddled pond we call Port Phillip Bay. Besides, Harty has promised us a top deal on all our new whitegoods and 50 per cent off all electrical products.

"We also see some synergy between the role we played in Victoria and the future of the Fremantle Football Club. If you imagine West Coast as the smug, arrogant, self assured Kennett government, we're that other mob that sneaks up behind and kicks their arses all the way to footballing obscurity."

Who is Ken Thomas

Hi folks

Apologies for my lack of correspondence and I hope I still have some return visitors who haven't been put off by re-reading my footy tipping from some weeks ago.

One of the main reasons I've been slack is that I've been helping a mate move his gear into a new beachside pad in Noosa. He retired a few weeks back and what with his salsa dancing, topiary and tai chi, he hasn't had time to blink.

Anyway, Ken is now safely ensconsed and enjoying a lifestyle replete with cable knit sweaters, white linen slacks and long walks on the beach. He is even considering growing a mo.

More about Ken Thomas, the man, the legend, here

Round 11 AFL tipping guide

Bombers v Meth abusers: Phone Dome
The Weagles should win this, especially if their interstate connections come through with the good stuff before half time, but expect 'high shorts' Lloyd to have an inspired night out and Hirdy to walk on water to bring them home. In other words, I hope the Dons win cause I hate the yellow and blue pricks!
Look out for: Taxi drivers removing their arials.
Result: Eagles to score heavily, but Bombers to win by 9 points.

Hawks v Sidderknee: MCG
The Hawks have been playing like they've been into the West Coast medicine cabinet, but all good things must come to an end and I predict our feathered friends will once again start handballing themselves out of the game.
Look out for: The freakish 'I'm your Buddy' Franklin.
Result: A desperate Sidders by 13 points.

Lions v The Doggies: Gabba Dabba Doo
Fucked if I know what the Lions are doing from one game to the next and a draw against the Tiges isn't worth writing home to your Momma about. But Leigh Matthews is a dirty bastard and he also likes palm trees, sand and particularly loud Hawain shirts (yeah, never could spell it right). Despite the return of Aker to his home town and the Dog's good form, Leigh won't drop this one.
Look out for: Browny to pull Aker's jocks out through his throat.
Result: Lions by 3 points.

Caaaarlton v Port Boganland: Phone Dome
Couldn't give a fuck quite frankly, but I'd like to see Fevola and Chad Kornes knock each other out in a clash of large heads. And die.
Look out for: The bar.
Result: The Blues by 11 points.

Crows v the Cats: Adelaide
Those pussies are all juiced up and travelling nicely, led by the stinky blood nut Ling who sticks to his opponents like love juice to a blanket. But a bit like the Hawks, time is nigh for this outfit of pretenders to implode and limp sadly to another season of obscurity. Besides, if the Crows lose at home in front of a crowd sporting haircuts that make Fat Tony's wig look positively glam, then no one is getting out of there alive.
Look out for: Piggy Ling's sexy ginger freckle bursting out of his white shorts.
Result: Crows by 13 points.

Saints v Roos: Phone Dome
All I want to see out of this game is the big 'G' train, 'Gold' - as in neck-less - do his nut and start pulling some hair. Expect Kosi to cop another concussion. Ree-volt to cement his place as Mr Albino 2007 and the Roos to come home in a game that will have all the highlights of a Paris in Jail documentary.
Look out for: The salt and pepper squid in the snack bar on level 4.
Result: Ummmm, Roos by 9 points.

The Mighty Dockers v the toothless Tiges: Subiaco
If by game's end big 211cm Aaron Sandilands isn't hunkered down in the centre square at Subiaco roasting the flesh of tiger carcasses over a Samoan barbecue pit, then it really is all over for the Dockers. Big Pav has been practicing his kicking all week and Taz has finally washed off the acrid stench of the Collingwood faithful after last week's debacle, now it's time to have some fun - just don't stray too close to Sandi's mouth!
Look out for: The angry giant wearing purple - you might get trod on.
Result: Freo by 54 points.

Demons v Collingwood: MCG
Well, the young Dees put on a splendid show last week in notching up their first win of the season, however, quite frankly we don't give a flying fuck. The high country has a glorious dusting of snow, the Rangie is chockers with Chardy and the ski season is about to kick off what ho! So it's toodles for Melbourne and time for Darth Vadar Malthouse to once again whip out his light sabre and give them a jolly good thrashing.
Look out for: Lots of tweed disappearing through the turnstiles at half time.
Result: Collingwood by 23 points.

Farmer incident - take note West Coast

A number of people have asked me why I haven't posted anything about the Jeff Farmer incident from last weekend where he is alleged to have punched a nightclub bouncer in the face. There have been suggestions that I may have turned the other cheek on this one due to my passion for the Fremantle Football Club.

Well, to set the record straight, my lack of correspondence is simply due to the fact that I have bigger fish to fry right now. Indeed, my third child is due to arrive into this world on Wednesday and preparing for his early arrival has taken up a fair bit of time... blogging is a long way down this list right now.

But to set the record straight, I believe that the Fremantle Football Club's actions in suspending Farmer until round 13 was the correct decision. Unlike that other mob up the road, the club imposed its penalty swiftly and without excuse, ultimately to the detriment of season 2007, but for the benefit of the club's long-term morale and integrity.

While the West Coast rots from the head down in a mire of excuse ridden denials and arrogance in its 'win at all cost' approach to the game, Fremantle has shown itself to be a strong, decisive club that isn't prepared to let its players ride rough shod over the team as a whole.

Farmer was told not to go to that club and he broke the rules, regardless of what transpires in court today. Worsfold, Gooding and Nisbett could learn a lesson in discipline and people management from this episode.

Selwood slut jibe costs Des six

I've seen it all now in the West Coast shame file.

First we had Michael 'Charlie' Gardiner... enough said.

Then came a bare chested Benny Cousins running away from his abandoned vehicle, falling asleep legless in a Melbourne street, then inevitably packing his bags for an Arizona rehab clinic - paid for by the West Coast Eagles Football Club.

Not to be outdone, enter Daniel Kerr as he tried to spear a cab driver with his own car arial after snapping it off in some kind of monkey-boy hallucinogenic rage. Then two weeks later he's revealed on tape as having purchased Special K from a drug dealer with a penchant for full forward's gloves. Assault charges in 2006, two.

Don't forget Flatline Fletcher's near death experience in the US! One too many middies of VB we're led to believe...

And taking the spotlight off that nasty drug situation onto more salubrious issues, we have Adam Selwood allegedly telling Fremantle player Des Headland that his daughter - SIX YEAR OLD DAUGHTER - is a slut.

Like any good father would, Des allegedly took a swing at Selwood and threatened to kill him if he ever said it again. That alleged strike - which umpires now contest happened twice - looks set to put Des out of the game for up to six weeks.

To rub salt into what is developing into a horrible festering wound, Des also got fined $800 for wrestling Selwood. Apparently Selwood just lay there and let himself be wrestled because he hasn't been fined at all.

I hear that Fremantle will contest the charge and it would appear that Des is intent on telling the world exactly what Selwood said that made him want to cave his skull in. I say the club should back him all the way and if his charges aren't reduced significantly, or dropped altogether, further action should be taken.

Quite frankly, while I have no qualms about a good sledge, to tell a father that his six-year-old girl is engaged in frequent sexual acts is a disgrace - far worse that punching a player in the testicles, but there's another low act that Danny Kerr can tell you all about.

If what Selwood reportedly said is indeed the case, he should be disgusted with himself. But then again, it was probably a club tactic all along and he and his teammates are no doubt chuckling about the result right now nad wishing themselves a "fucking good season".

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.