Tuesday, January 16, 2007

MUFTIS AND MUFFIN TOPS

Of all the posts to NOT have photos, it just had to be this one. The one which really needs "before and after" photos. Sharon's expensive Canon digital had a breakdown recently and Dick Smith cannot give us a clear idea on who honours the extended warranty for which we paid handsomely.

I may have to dig up an archived photo or two just to entertain you. For further entertainment, I have placed deliberate spelling errors in this post. See if you can find them.

First up, there were to be two or three extreme makeovers in our family, and I only succeeded at one.

As some of you know, I have an impressive bone problem called "Hallux Valgus" in my feet. It's just a fancy way of saying "bunion", but mine are particularly incomfortable. So, after a year of fiddling with a million different specialist consults and no private health insurance, I settled on a self-funded operation with a nice orthapaedic surgeon in Geelong. He does knee reconstructions on football players, so shaving some bone off my bunion and cracking my toes back into place should be a walk in Kardinia Park for him.

We were booked in for January 16th, and I don't mind admitting I was as nervous as one can possibly be. Sharon and Omi (the other two are at Horsham) waited with me for two hours in the Hospital before I was finally called in to be sliced up.

Then the surgeon tells me we cannot do the op because I have a small amount of tinea on the same foot and this constitutes a major infection risk.

So the good news is I can still, momentarily walk. Infortunately I have to find another window some time this year where I won't need any mobility for 6-8 weeks.

So much for that makeover.

Archive footage


Before all that, and in anticipation of it, I decided that my forthcoming new toy (see here , or here ) needed a decent home to live in. So, the garage got a huge makeover. The "studio" has been reassigned the title of "storage room" and the garage had an enima which would impress the most militant lentil-eating hippie vegan.

I even had a crack at welding some benches. Welding is fun- apart from the bit where molten slag hits you in the eye. I then stained and coated the floor with polyurethane. It looks a zillion bucks, but you can't actually walk on it and leave dusty footprints.

My obsession with dust-free living lead me onto the roof with a can of that sticky expandable foam. I don't want one single speck of dust in that place. Not one. Every hole has been plugged, and even the door gaps have been padded. I am determined to have something close to a Formula-One Laboratory style environment, and will maintain it with a zeal equalled only by ancient Jewish Levitical Priesthood. Now the garage is the cleanest, most uncluttered room in the whole place. I'm actually thinking we should hold our home Bible study group there.

Yes, I think I am really quite ill. Help me, please.




More archive footage from March 06. The yard still looks like this.

Of course, what may be contributing to the dust problem is the fact that there is no grass anywhere in our back yard. It has either been dug up, died, or eaten by guinea pigs. For a more detailed environmental impact statement on this issue, go here.

These water restrictions are getting too much. Perhaps I have become an old cynic and don't believe anything the Government says. But I have to admit, I drove past one of Vic's main dams near Ballarat the other day, and it looks like a pile of dried up seaweed, and it is forcing people to engineer different solutions for being frugal, and some of them are quite creative.

Grey water systems are popping up all over the place, where people plumb their shower and washing machine drainage into a pump system, connect hoses up, and away they go- watering their gardens with gay abandon.

The problem is, their neighbours see them watering their lawn and dob them into to the Water Restriction Police. So the Water Restriction Police are suggesting we all signs in our front yards saying "grey water system installed" so they don't have to follow up so many reports. Methinks they want nothing more than for their jobs to be made a little easier. Well, they bluddy well started it!!

So, not only do the Water Nazis insist that all our properties should look less attractive than a desert, now we must have big ugly signs in our front yards boasting that we water our gardens with washing lint and armpit hair. Shall we dump a burnt car wreck there while we're at it?


Our front yard

Now I am wondering about those little things, which never caused a stir in pre-Water Nazi days.For example, will the state Government plumb millions of litres of water into the Albert Park lake as they do every year, to make it look nicer for the TV cameras at Grand Prix time? (see HERE ) Can't wait to see that one. It will be more entertaining than the event itself. If they do, I'm having another 20 minute shower, thank you very much.

Speaking of entertaining, I'm sure you are all expecting me to comment on that Muslim Mufti fellow, Sheik al-Hilali shooting his mouth off. He is most famous for his witty little jibe about women getting themselves raped because they dress funny.

Okay, I will comment. I think he's a fine representative of Islam and hope he stays in Australia for as long as possible. Especially for the "women/ raw meat" comments.

After all, the Profit Mohamed himself loved women. He thought they were great. He believed every man should own at least one.

Yes, I admit to a little chuckle when I see an Islamic leader portrayed poorly by the media. I wince, of course, when the same media portray Christians worse. But is there a chance that ol' Moofus HAS been taken out of context?

After all, us Jesus freaks are always suggesting women should dress modestly. Meaning, they shouldn't wear nothing, but then they shouldn't wear a tent either. When having a conversation with a woman, you should at least know whether she's facing you or not. And, I have to admit I do like the odd pierced belly button.

Nope, that's not the problem. The problem goes back much further. Perhaps we should stop bombarding men with pornography, and de-sensitising them to visual stimulus. Then we wouldn't have the problem of uncontrollable male urges being unleashed at the sight of a young muffin top. Now there's something our postmodern culture cannot handle- men and women are different (gasp). Especially the way they handle visual stimulus. Men handle it very badly.

So there's no point in attacking the symptom and not the cause. No, to properly understand Sheik Mufti Imam Al-Halali Bin Laden Alladin whatsisname's comments, you need to understand where he is coming from. Or, more specifically, where his "faith" comes from. Seriously, get a coffee, sit back, and have a look at THIS . Sheik Mufti Muffintop's comments should come as no surprise. In fact, they were tame. In Saudi Arabia, he would be made Royalty.

Why my fascination with Saudi Arabia? Well, let's just say I see it every time I look at my front yard.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Just when you'd lost all hope...

Hi folks. It's me again. To those of you who were on the brink of hopelessness, contemplating suicide to end the utter desolation and emptiness, the nothingness and futility of a world without my blog updates...

...sorry about that. For everybody else, which would be all of you...how's things??

I would like to say that nothing's been happening so there's been nothing to report. That wouldn't really be true, but most of it involves little four wheeled machine business and spending money and you can find all that out by clicking here .

The new toy should be ready before Christmas. Whilst dismantling the old one to pilfer the engine and other parts, I discovered my silencer had broken in three places. I wonder how long it was like that? - he says, grinning quietly to himself at the notion that the motor might actually be coaxed to go FASTER...

But other things have happened. We've grown a little older, for a start. And that's non-trivial, because life is a journey.

We also went to the U2 concert. "We" being Sharon AND me. Which is scary. It's the second time the vast chasm which is our respective musical taste has actually met in the middle.

It was fantastic. Sure, Bono did his usual get-into-a-cause thing, and I don't see how paying $140 for a U2 ticket is going to make poverty history. If anything it's going to make poverty worse. But anyone who doesn't complain about Global Warming is alright with me. And I would put up with anything to hear the guitar chime of Beautiful Day...

The downer was we had to park at the Exhibition Centre and walk to the Docklands and Sharon was wearing the wrong shoes. The upside...the docklands are really nice.

Now that we're up to stage 58 water restrictions, our front lawn is brown and the back yard has no lawn at all. So the kids have a sandpit to play in and I didn't even have to build them one. At least the Bracks Government can blame Global Warming for the fact they had absolutely no preparation whatsoever for a drought.

You see, Global Warming only started happening immediately after the lastVictorian election, and nobody saw it coming. It had nothing to do with the screaming, bleeding heart, pagan humanist green-worshipping Left crying "Burn them!!!!" the moment someone mentioned making dams, or enlarging catchments. Nope, who could possibly have foreseen the sudden effect of 100 years of greenhouse gas.

Note carefully that I inscribe "Global Warming" with capitals so as to afford the appropriate respect to the deity of the Green religion. The messiah is Al Gore, who is still on his I'll-save-the-world-from-Global-Warming Tour. It's a worldwide tour, and Apostle Al (PBUH) flies busily about, in planes that belch hordes of greenhouse gases...

Currently there's an Inquisition to root out the heretics who are skeptical of the seriousness of Global Warming (peace be upon It). That includes those pesky scientists who just won't shut up with all their "facts" about largely cooler temperatures.

Then with all the healthy skeptics gone we will be panicked into making laws that planes must run on lentil juice. Planes will fall out of the sky and thousands will be killed, but it will all be worth it.

Religion comes in all sorts of weird shapes and sizes, huh?

Meanwhile Naomi has adpoted yet more Guinea Pigs, which further worsens the grass problem.
While Mum was over in October for 'Omi's birthday, she tripped over some piles of junk and discovered a spare room underneath it. There were no Egyptian Tombs, Hebraic stone etchings or anything else of note, mainly just odd socks, long disused toys and junk mail. I came home from work to find an elegantly decorated formal sitting room with two new suede chairs, a little coffee table replete with a marble chess set we picked up in Brazil ten years ago, and a rug.

I'm not sure where all the junk has gone but I'm sure it may have been shifted into one of those spare dimensions I talked about earlier in the 'blog.

I gotta go. There's a Greens party member at the door, I suspect they are arresting me for blaspheming the God of Global Warming. Tell my kids I lov...................

=end transmission=

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

A post about nothing

Yes, this is about nothing.

Haven't posted for a while because I've been busy driving performance cars, celebrating Naomi's TENTH (!!!) birthday, Mum's visit, and racing karts at Wakefield Park (link on right)

Catch y'all when I've got some time.

Peace out

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Speaking of Cars...

Okay so we weren't but I'm going to anyway.

I have never won anything in my life. Not even a chook raffle.

Australia's best motoring mag, MOTOR, runs a series of tests annually to determine the Performance Car Of The Year (PCOTY). The journos like to pretend that the tests are arduous and hard work but really they can't hide that it is pure, unadulterated FUN. They do a competition allowing one lucky reader to join them in their tests. It was one of those "tell us in 25 words or less why..". So I did.
And I won.



Scary sports car with fiery Italian temper







So, this weekend (14th 15th and 16th October), I will be touring around from a (secret) airfield in NSW to Winton raceway (I'm sure I've been there before) with a collection of MOTOR journos and the PCOTY finalists, which include: Porsche Cayman S, Aston Martin Vantage, Golf GTI, Subaru STI, Nissan 350Z, a handful of Falcon Turbo sixes, and some "wild card" entries which I've been told includes an Audi RS4, Mercedes CLK63 AMG and something called a Lamborghini Murcielago with a 471 kilowatt V12 Engine and all-wheel drive.

For those who aren't sure why I'm raving, here is a pictorial selection of some of the aforementioned vehicles.



Why is it that every Lotus Exige I see is bright orange? The one that pasted me at the Nurburgring last year was orange. This time, I might actually get to drive it!







Another Nurburgring memory. Emmmmmmmmmm Six








At last! Porsche have made something that doesn't look like a 911 or a Boxster. Instead, it looks like both...






Yes Miss Moneypenny...









A Datsun!! How nostalgic...






Umm....Wheeeeeeeee! (ran out of imaginative captions)







Sure, it would have been nice to win something that was transferable to cold hard cash, or, God forbid, something I could share with the rest of the family. But sometimes you just gotta do something that money can't buy (unless you have over three million dollars, of course).

Since the last competition was won, no doubt the magazine's lawyers swooped on the whole civilian-driving-performance-cars-fast thing and made the prize a little less potent. If you have the September edition of MOTOR you'll see what I mean. But hey, beggars can't be choosers and I will happily tag along and see what I get to drive/ thrash/ drool over.

It could be a real fizzer. We'll know by next Tuesday. But somehow I suspect it will all turn out juuust fine....