Thursday, 31 December 2009


I would love to write more but I am right handed and that is in a splint at the moment.
Some unkind people have suggested that it may be as a result of my frequency of wanking but my doctor says it is a long term thing finally coming to a head---oh, hang on---long term----hmmm, maybe.
But being right handed---yeh, OK, it's my wanking hand, but it is also my dominant hand-----alright, OK, it has dominated me on the odd occasion----but my typing with left only is bloody slow---so
Oh, it's a torn wrist cartilage----maybe surgery and drugs---OK, now you know---but

I couldn't let is pass----

May you all have a great celebration for the passing of the old and the coming of the new

May the New Year bring you joy
May you receive all that you may wish for
May there be peace in your life and in this world

Happy New Year

Hmm, I wonder if I can do it left handed----type, you perverts

Wednesday, 23 December 2009


It's on the way
It's nearly here
That day when most families in the world get together for varying reasons.
Those with some sort of christian belief get together to celebrate the birth of a child---those that have deviated from those beliefs use it as a holiday and get together to celebrate the holiday----and those not of a christian belief use it as a time just to get together.

So no matter what it is a family time----time when all of the sins for the year are forgiven over some sort of feast or celebration.
If we are too far from our families, we try to contact them if we can

It is Christmas

I never knew my paternal Grandparents and even though my Grandmother gave birth to more children, my Father was an only child----the family cemetery plot records a brother and a sister by name but others who died before even being named.

My maternal Grandparents lived very close---the back of their block ran into the side of ours. My Mother had two sisters and one brother.

Christmas day always brought a gathering at my grandparents house---their four children with their partners and all of their children----eleven in all at the end.
As it got bigger and my grandparents got older, the gathering shifted to our house---all of the kids would head for the beach during the preparation and while the adults rested after stuffing themselves full.
Great times

I was 17 when my grandfather died two days before Christmas----my grandmother couldn't stay in the house----we cancelled the gathering---it was a very sad year.

My Mother tried to organise the next year but some of the family members weren't interested and had another side of their families to go to.
That year Christmas dinner was our family---my parents, my brother and me.
And that is the way it was til I married and it became extended family with my wife and her daughter from a previous marriage.

After my divorce, it became four of us again----the family.
My brother died two years later and then there was three.

My brothers death broke my fathers will--- his family line was riddled with colon cancer and dad had beaten it twice----my brother didn't----he made it his fault.

My father died a broken man, withdrawn into himself and not communicating with mum or me.
And then there was two

The year that my mother died was her time----she was old, she was frail and she had fought every battle a woman should ever have to.

I didn't realise til Christmas that year what it meant.
It meant--and then there was one.

I still feel that it is the family time of the year. I can't bring myself to join in with the family of friends---it's my family day.

Please, be with your families if you can----if you cant, please contact them---tell them that you love them.

Me, OK, I'll be with mine. Their ashes are spread on my beach along with the ashes of my last dog that they all knew.
I'll be on the beach with my dog to wish them all a Merry Christmas.

May you all have a great family time.
May the love of your families warm your hearts.
May Christmas bring you all that you need.
And may the New Year bring you all that you deserve.


Wednesday, 16 December 2009


We only had one horse entered to race that night---he was a bad horse to transport so he was in a two horse float by himself and I rode in the float with him.----I had to---just to keep him occupied and stop him from scrambling and climbing the walls.

I could hear the crashing and banging before we pulled into the park ----people were yelling and a woman was running around the park wailing and screaming "Tarses is down, Tarses is down, Tarses is down".
My horse was getting stirred up by the commotion so I unloaded and got him settled in the horse stalls before thinking about what a Tarses was.
My old mate Jim said to me "I'll look after him, go and see if there is anything you can do out there---that horse has fallen in the float transport and they cant get him up or out---but watch yourself, he has kicked three blokes so far"----he was chuckling as I walked towards the park.

Well, there he was, Tarses, a big black stallion laying on his side, thrashing around and lashing out at anyone who dared come near to help.
They had tried everything, so they said---tried to pull his head up to make him get up---tried to get ropes on him but he had lashed out and kicked everyone who got near--they had tried with a neck rope and head collar but without him making any effort, they were frightened that they would damage his neck

I watched for about ten minutes and finally fronted up and said to the bloke who owned him "Have you got any water in a container?"----he looked at me like I was stupid----"well, have you got any water----has anyone here got any water or a can of drink"?-----
All of the people around just looked at me but no one came up with the water---
So I climbed in the front of the float and could basically stand out of danger with one foot either side of the hoses head-----I just looked at the people at the back of the float and said "Well, if no one has any water, would you mind getting out of the way and take any women away, I'm a little shy"

Lucky I needed a piss, so with the best aim I could in the circumstances, I pissed in Tarses ear----
Well, crash, bang, heave, and scramble, he was on his feet and half way off that float.
His trainer looked at me and said "You pissed on my horse"----I said "Well you wouldn't get me any water---and I've never known a horse yet that will lay down with an ear full of water"
There was not a word of thanks----they just couldn't believe that I had pissed in its ear.

Old Jim laughed his guts out when one of his mates told him what I'd done---and was still chuckling an hour later as we harnessed our horse for his race.
We walked up to the track as the race driver warmed the horse up in his preliminaries-----I went into the betting ring to have a few dollars on our bloke--we thought he had a good chance.----I couldn't believe it---there was Tarses in our race and still racing---surely the stewards would have scratched him on a Vets inspection----not my problem.

Our horse Bushman's Song, put up a great performance to be beaten by a nose in a photo----by, yep, you guessed it----TARSES

The owner trainer had not reported the incident in the car park and had not had the horse inspected by the Vet----a bloke told me that he hadn't even washed my piss off him.


Wednesday, 9 December 2009


I may have worked with horses for the best part of my life, but I'm not the biggest fan of a lot of Country and Western music.

There has been some very talented singers from the "Country" ranks and some very good songs that have crossed to the "Pop" charts and been applauded by all

I'm sorry but I can't handle the hokey "My best dog has just died"--"My girl left me for a rodeo clown" message songs -----but most "Country" songs seem to have some message

But those with a strong message ---a message that I would like to send myself------a message strong enough to evoke audience participation---well, I will yee ha along with the best.

I hope this guy wins an award

Thursday, 3 December 2009


Sometimes we think that life is too hard and we just cant do things

Maybe we can't but we will never know until we have a go.

But in the end there will be things that we can't do and things that we have no control over.

You can't fail unless you have a go but you can't be restricted by the fear of failure.

So if life knocks you down, just get up and have another go---bruises, breaks and scratches to body, ego or heart are just badges of honour for someone who had a go

Monday, 23 November 2009


I had a love for horses and a love for competition but I couldn't stay in thoroughbred racing after my experience with a cruel man.
Knowing my of love and how I handled horses, a friend took me to a little hobby farm just out of town---I say hobby but they ran a herd of Jersey milking cows and trained Harness racing horses.

I was introduced to the trainer---an 87 yo woman who had brought a thoroughbred stallion from England to Australia, trained a polo string for the rich and famous and knew more than I could ever learn. Her "foreman", a WW11 veteran who shook hands with his left because his right arm had been nearly shot away during the war--he had worked Clydesdales on the wharves of the local Port, had ridden buck jumpers and could read a horse from first sight. And the trainers daughter, a very plain woman, divorced and bitter from a war time marriage to a US soldier---and accomplished track rider and show ring competitor.

We spent the day talking about horses and watching the foreman, virtually one handed, harness up and work the racing horses.
By the third, I helped him unharness, cool down, clean up rug, water and turn the horse out in a yard to play----he said "You learn fast"

His name was John, they called him Jim---I still don't know why----I asked if he was working another----I would get it out and help him harness up.
He looked at me and said "Son, you will learn a lot and you could be of great help around here but you don't need to touch this next one"
My friend knew what Jim was talking about but said "Let Clyde bring her out---he will be OK"

I went to the stall and looked over the door and ducked as a wide open mouth full of horse teeth lunged at me---her ears were flat back on her neck, her eyes were glazed and her head shook daring me to try to touch her.
Jim laughed and said "her name is Granite Rose---we have her and two full brothers and they are all like that---she's the best behaved"
I opened the door and she charged as I waved her off---I spoke softly to her and told her that if she bit me that I would bite back---Jim laughed---I stroked her neck and waved away her flashing teeth, she stomped her feet as I scratched her behind the ear and patted her chest (girls like that)---and slipped a halter (head collar) over her nose and buckled it up-----Jim yelled that she would try to knock me down coming through the door, so as I opened the door and she charged, I side stepped, let her out the door and led her back in.
I stood with her---she was quivering----I held her close by the rope and collar and said "right, we are going out but you are going with me at my pace"----we walked forward, talking every inch of the way, her chest hard against me ready to knock me down but we talked, we stopped, we talked, we stopped and then we walked out of the door together----
But then I had to let her win---I gave her enough rope, flicked it at her and let her rear up over me----told her she was a good girl and walked her to the harness tie up rail.

I helped Jim harness her up with the warning that "she kicks with every leg"---and she did---he was like me---don't raise your hand, raise your voice.
Once in the cart, she was a professional----worked like a machine----it was like watching a butterfly float----I had seen many harness races but she was different.
Old Jim told me that she could be a good horse but she was a barrier rogue and only got away well at the starts one out of twenty.

That weekend we took Granite Rose to the official race trials----she had been banned because of her barrier manners so she had to qualify to race again.
She played up very badly at the barrier and missed the start by a long way----every one was so down in the mouth---she was working so well but she just would not go away with them----the stewards would not lift the ban.
I asked if she could try again later that morning----the stewards re entered her for the last trial----old Jim looked at me like the new boy is mad but said we might as well try again.

She was in the parade ring with old Jim driving her as a warm up when they called for the horses to come to the track-----I grabbed her by the bridle as the driver took over from Jim but before I let go, I threw a hand full of dirt in her mouth.
Jim looked at me and said "What the fuck was that"
I had just thought that if she was so worried about trying to clear the shit out of her mouth, she wouldn't be thinking about the barrier-----and she didn't----she charged out as they said go and they never saw which way she went----she won the trial and the stewards lifted the ban.

One week later she was at the races---Jim said to me not to get caught throwing dirt in her mouth----he was down in the mouth himself when she left the parade ring with no dirt----"she will gallop away and get banned again" he said----I laughed and told him to have faith----she stepped away and won as she liked.
When she returned to the stall with a very jubilant crowd around her I said to Jim "take that rubber band off her ear before it cuts of the circulation"----he looked and realised that it was just another way to take her mind off the barrier.
Granite Rose retired two years later winning 13 of her next 21 starts

She was a bitch but we respected each other-----of course she had the last laugh---I still have the scar of the biggest love bite a guy has ever had--oh, and as promised, I did bite her back

Jim and I never told anyone what we did----It was different nearly every time and we used the ideas over and over with barrier rogues

Saturday, 14 November 2009


I heard him before I ever saw him
I heard him screaming, I heard the scrambling in the horse transport as it pulled up.
I was helping a "friend" (Gordon) run his Thoroughbred stable near the beach.
I heard him scramble down the tailgate of the transport and heard him skidding on the bitumen road----I heard him squealing like he was in pain.

I ran out of the stable to see this unruly little beast rearing and backing away from a man who held his lead rope
I saw the fire in his eyes, but it was the fire of fear.

There was an argument going on----"I don't want him, take him home"---"But you said you would take him and I've driven 150 miles to get here"----"He looks like a fucking pit pony, you told me that he would make a jumper"---"He can jump, he's qualified to race in hurdles"-----"I don't care, I don't want the little shit, he's a brumby, take him home"
All of the time this poor little beast was running around on the end of the rope and screaming his lungs out.

I walked up and grabbed the rope and said to the two blokes "look, you argue it out, I'm taking him inside for a drink and a feed"

The little horse looked at me like Satan had taken him by the tail but I grabbed him close and said to him "Come on son, we can give you something for your trouble"
He snorted and pulled back, the fire of fear in his eyes, but with me talking to him all of the way, we wrestled our way to the water trough----I think he nearly drank it dry---I let him loose in the sand roll yard and he was playing hard and rearing when I came back with an armful of lucerne hay"
I thought he was going to eat me as he pushed me out of the way and tore into the hay in front of him"
He was quieter but kept his eye on me---the fear was still there---there was no trust----he was small for a thoroughbred and those feet---they looked the size of dinner plates.
I left him to his feast and joined in on the argument still raging in the street.

"Look, Gordon, I know that you don't want him, but there is something about him that I like, so if you won't take him, I will"
Gordon looked at me like I had betrayed him to the enemy---"Clyde, you don't know what you are talking about---I told you that I would get you a horse, but not this little fucking pit pony"
I looked at his owner and said "Will you lease him to me and one of the stable riders---I'll give him a chance"
The war was over----it was agreed that he could stay and that I would pay his keep along with one of the stable riders.

My first horse---I went back to him, and he turned his rump on me and lashed out---"Hey Hey, little fella, come on, we have to get along or you might be going home"--he looked at me and snorted---his eyes were still full of fear----I stood there til he approached and stroked his face---he tried to savage the fingers that soothed him---I clipped a long lunging rein to his head collar and walked him out to the street.

"Changed your mind Clyde"----"no no, if he's gonna work on the beach he had better see it first"
No one rode him for a week---I led him to the beach every day and lunged him on the end of the rein on the sand and walked him up to his chest in the water---he was getting to trust me and I needed him to.

At the end of the week I put a bit in his mouth with a light bridle and took him deeper into the sea---he wasn't sure and pulled back but I kept encouraging him and talking to him til he finally kicked off and was swimming----I slipped onto his back and rode him back out of the water----we walked and talked for a good five miles, in and out of the water----he was starting to relax----there was another week of this and all of the time filling him with as much as he would eat.

My partner, the stable rider (Gary) came back from his holiday to the news of his new horse----he took one look at him and wanted out----it took some time but I talked him into giving the little bloke 12 weeks and if he showed nothing in ability, we would send him home.
The next morning I saddled him and sent him off with Gary to slow gallop him for five miles to the breakwater and plunge and rush him though the water on the way home.----he dumped Gary in the water and came home himself----I caught him on the beach and he seemed very pleased with himself----he acted like a naughty little boy.
Next morning it was the same work and he tried to get rid of Gary again but they came home together.
He developed a trust in Gary and I was his best friend but he would try to savage anyone else who went into his yard----oh, he hated Gordon (my mate the trainer)---the poor woman who owned the stables was on the end of some of his tantrums.
His 12 weeks was up and Gary wanted to see some results for his money---
Gordon had a good staying mare going to the track for a good searching training gallop----I borrowed another horse float and took the little bloke to the track

Gary had to ride Gordon's mare so I grabbed a jumping jockey friend of mine and sent the little bloke out to work with the mare.
Gordon had arranged a gallop with another horse from another stable----was not happy, but as long as the little bloke didn't get in their way, he could tag along.
They all warmed up just bowling along for a mile up to the 12 furlong start---they jumped out and warmed into their work---the little bloke tagging on behind---5 furlongs from home they started to get serious---the mare and her work partner side by side into the straight and two furlongs from home they really turned it on and sprinted to the post----both trainers very happy with their charges and oblivious to the fact that the little bloke had finished right on their tails.

I had unsaddled the little bloke and was hosing him down when Gary appeared and said that he didn't think that we should go on with the little bloke---before I could answer the jumping jockey said "what are you talking about son, I could have pulled out around both of you but Clyde told me to just let him run to the line"
Gary changed his mind and we went on.

We had a problem---the trainer only held an owner trainers licence, so if the little bloke was to race from his stable, Gordon had to be a part owner and had to sign the lease papers as a part owner and as the trainer.
I got the papers from the jockey club, filled in my part and Gary's part and gave them to Gordon with the registration fees to complete his part and register them with the Jockey Club.
I looked though the racing program and saw a race that I thought would suit the little bloke----he was qualified as a jumping horse and there was a jumpers flat race (a flat race for qualified jumpers with jumps jockeys to ride) in two weeks.
I got Gordon to nominate him with my friend the jumps jockey as his rider.

I checked the nominations on the Monday and there we were----but there was a lot of horses nominated---we probably wouldn't get a run---Thursday morning came and there it was---we were in-----I could not have been more excited----I grabbed my brother and my best friend and told them to be there because I thought that the little bloke had a good show.
Saturday morning I got to the stable at 5am---I gave the little bloke some breakfast and took him for a walk in the water------hosed him down and had him brushed out and tidied up ready to go
I transported him to the track myself and walked the stable parade ring for 30 minutes with him to calm down---he hadn't raced for two years so had to go through an inspection that upset him and had him very much on the toe-----
I was walking the parade ring with him when my brother caught my eye---he told me that the opening betting had him at 40/1---I told him not to worry til late and to have $100 each way on him just before the jump.
The saddle arrived from the weight room so I stabled the little bloke and saddled him up----they were ready---he was due in the mounting enclosure parade ring----he was snorting, he broke out in a sweat, he reared like his old brumby self---the others scattered away from him.
My jockey came out to mount up and said "Christ Clyde, will he get to the barrier or am I going for a rodeo ride"----I said to him "Hey, he knows you, just stand with me and talk to him til the stewards get shitty and make you mount up, then talk to him all the way to the barrier----and then he's yours---and remember how he worked that morning with the mare---well ride him like that but make him run home from the two furlongs and we will be in this"
He mounted up and I led my little bloke onto the track---I talked to him, I patted his neck, I walked him for 100 yards til they told me that I had to let him go and left him to the jockey.

I met my brother in the grandstand and he told me that he had my bet on at 60/1---but then he said "Look in the race book----look at the owner of the horse"
I looked and there it was---the only owner in the book was Gordon the trainer---Gary came over and asked what was going on---I said that we would sort it out after the race, that it must have something to do with Gordon's owner/trainers licence.

The fairy tale came true---Club Spirit (the little bloke) sprinted past the leaders to win by three lengths running away
In all of the excitement, the ownership issue didn't get raised til we were back home at the stables----Gordon explained that the horses owner wanted to lease it to him only but the prize money would be handed over to Us when it arrived.

It never happened and there was nothing that we could do about it----everyone involved except Gary and I, thought that he was Gordon's horse.

The little bloke hated Gordon and I stayed at the stables for the horses sake.
Club Spirit won the three biggest Steeplechase races in South Australia and ran second in the two biggest chases in Australia, getting an invitation to race in Japan and England----he never went.
He made Gordon into a public trainer with horses sent to him from wealthy owners.

I had to leave---I just couldn't stay with a man like that anymore.
He retired Club Spirit to what I thought would be a good home----the little bloke had made him a trainer and had won him a lot of money.

Gordon's daughter rang me and told me that the little bloke had been sent to Anna Creek Station---it was like a salt bush desert----just enough food to survive but Gordon didn't have to pay for him.
I rang the station owners who told me that Gordon had given them the horse---I bought him from them and sent him to a friends irrigated farm and paid for his keep for the rest of his life---of course he lived for another 12 years

Club Spirit---thank you for the trust---I'm sorry that I left you with that bastard but I'm glad that you enjoyed retirement----and you will be glad to know that Gordon actually has a heart---well had one, because he had a heart attack and died 10 years before you.
You were a champion

Thursday, 12 November 2009


Now my last post was an attempt to let guys know something about womanspeak and try to interpret some of the common "speak" responses.
But now out of the blue someone sent me the rules according to men---
I have modified them a little but basically it will give ladies some idea of how men think.
You may say that your guy has never said anything like this to you but I'm betting that he is thinking it but just to keep the peace, he has gone out to the shed to start a handyman project(substitute beer here)

These are our rules!
Please note.. These are all numbered ' 1 ' because not one has a priority over another

1. Men are NOT mind readers.

1. Learn to work the toilet seat.
You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down.
We need it up, you need it down.
You don't hear us complaining about you leaving it down.
And if you leave it down, don't complain that we pissed on it because we left it up last time.

1. Sunday sports. It's like the full moon or the changing of the tides or girls nights. Let it be.

1. Crying is blackmail.

1. Ask for what you want.
Let us be clear on this one:
Subtle hints do not work!
Strong hints do not work!
Obvious hints do not work!
Just say it!

1. Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.

1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do.
Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.

1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument.
In fact, all comments become Null and void after 7 Days.

1. If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us.

1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one

1. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both.
If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.

1. Whenever possible, Please say whatever you have to say during commercials..

1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings.
Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.

1. If it itches, it will be scratched. We do that.

1. If we ask what is wrong and you say 'nothing,' We will act like nothing's wrong.
We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.

1. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, Expect an answer you don't want to hear.

1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine... Really .

1. Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as Football or how hot your sister is.

1. You have enough clothes.

1. You have too many shoes.

1. I am in shape. Round IS a shape!

1. Thank you for reading this.
Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight;

But did you know men really don't mind that? It's like camping.

Hey, there are some of them I can't agree with but then again I can see the reasoning behind them

Monday, 9 November 2009


The English language is hard enough with two or three different spellings for a word and nine or ten different and sometimes contradicting meanings.

Of course we have the original language and spelling, then we have the Americanisations brought to us by 52 states and Microsoft and the bastardisations from Scotland and Australia.
But it doesn't matter what English speaking country you are from or who published your dictionary, there is not a publication anywhere that will give you that lifesaving incite into womenspeak---it is a language of its own and a lack of comprehension can have disastrous consequences

For the guys, a little look into Clyde's survival guide


(1) FINE: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are
right and you need to shut up.

(2) FIVE MINUTES: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour.
Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more
minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.

(3) NOTHING: This is the calm before the storm. This means something,
and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing
usually end in fine.

(4) GO AHEAD: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!

(5) LOUD SIGH: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement
often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an
idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing
with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of nothing.)

(6) THAT'S OKAY: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women
can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard
before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

(7) THANKS: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just
say you're welcome. (I want to add in a clause here - This is true,
unless she says 'Thanks a lot' - that is PURE sarcasm and she is not
thanking you at all. DO NOT say 'you're welcome' . that will bring on a

(8) WHATEVER: Is a woman's way of saying F-- YOU!

(9) DONT WORRY ABOUT IT, I GOT IT: Another dangerous statement,
Meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times,
but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking 'What's wrong?'
For the woman's response refer to # 3.

Learn and live longer

Monday, 2 November 2009


We shared a love of the sea and the shore

We would walk for hours leaving bare footprints in the sand and tell each other every little thought.

We shared secrets that no none else knew and I have never told to this day

There were more sand dunes then---we would climb to the top and watch the world as it passed us by.

We shared a love of horses, the power and the beauty as they worked along the beach in the early hours.

I would dream of her at night---we were going to be together forever

Her father didn't like me---he thought that I was to old for her and that she was too young to be in love.
Her mother always told us when her father would be there and aided us behind his back.

I never contemplated us being separated but how could it be so far and why did she have to go.
Her family followed the Mormon faith and like so many world wide had been convinced of the second coming in Salt Lake City----they sold everything and went---they had to be there for the event.
She told me that they would be back after the event

I never saw her again---and I doubt that any member of her family or faith saw any great event in Salt Lake City.
But I will remember her to the day I die

Maybe her father was right---maybe I was too old----after all she was only 5yo and I was 6yo

If you are out there Barbra Chambers, I hope you found comfort in your fathers faith, I hope you found someone who would love you as much as I did---I hope you have had a wonderful life.
But just in case, I still walk that beach and I have never told our secrets

Wednesday, 28 October 2009


I can never understand why women go to extraordinary lengths to prove that they are equal to men.
Well, actually I can.
Because so many guys call them the weaker sex and actually believe it.
And I suppose that they are right if you are comparing muscles.

I am lucky that I was raised in a family where it was never in debate.
My parents were partners and both "played" to their strengths.
I never really noticed but now I can see it.

My mother lost an eye in a playground accident as a three year old----as a twelve year old she was torn from her extended family and emigrated to Australia with her parents and three younger siblings----she was the fat plain girl who helped her mother with the pretty young sisters and a little baby brother.
The only member of her family who held a job during the great depression and willingly supported them through hard times.

The same girl who fell in love with a man from a dysfunctional family who was torn away from her by a world war.
She was there for the young men returning from atrocities they should never have seen but when her man returned he was sent away again----he fought in the Middle East and North Africa, only to be sent off to Papua and New Guinea when Australia was attacked.

He came home but he could never talk of what he had seen----he never did----but he was proud that he had fought for his country, our freedom and that he had sent every penny of his pay home to start a new life with his love.
They didn't marry before he left because he didn't want to make her a widow---so his pay came home to his mother who spent every penny on her family who never served.
He never spoke of that
She had saved enough----they married and here I am.

Most women didn't work when the had a family but my beautiful mother became a teacher so that she would be there when her children were yet financially contribute to our lives.
My father was not good with children ----he could not relate---but my mother credited him with support beyond his contribution. He was a tradesman who I admired but couldn't understand my choices in life.
My mother supported me in every harebrained thing I every tried and was there to pick up the pieces.

Funny, I think all mothers do that yet there bloody stupid sons believe that males are stronger than females.
Is it because they think that while mum is there holding your hand that dad is never worried and happy to have a pint with his mates.
He cared but couldn't show it
Not til his dementia took him back to a childlike, non macho existence.

I saw the pain he went through that he hid from----the pain that hurt him later in life that he complained of.
I saw them both lose a son and she dealt with it better and supported him
I saw her go through the crippling pains of age with never a complaint.

I never understood the day to day and regular discomfort and pain that women went through until I married.
My wife put me through a lot of mental pain an anguish but I had to play that off against her perceptions and her actual pain.

I have no doubt that women are the stronger sex.
I have great admiration for a man who recently wrote about the discomfort and embarrassment of a finger in the bum from a doctor----the fear that men have of going to doctors----the fear that their image will be diminished.
My God---OK girls, feet in the stirrups, knees apart and smile with your girly bits---and that's fine----that's women's business

Just remember guys, besides being stronger than you, they have memories of everything that you have ever said in your life and they love you---so they have you by the balls.

'Whatever you give a woman, she will make greater.

If you give her sperm, she'll give you a baby.

If you give her a house, she'll give you a home.

If you give her groceries, she'll give you a meal.

If you give her a smile, she'll give you her heart.

She multiplies and enlarges what is given to her.

So, if you give her any crap, be ready to receive a ton of shit.'

WHY THE FUCK DO THEY TRY TO BE EQUAL-----they are in front now

Wednesday, 21 October 2009


I can't believe it
This world has gone fucking mad

A father cannot show affection to his daughter because it could be misinterpreted by some nosey fucking neighbour with a very perverse mind.

A grandfather cannot bounce his granddaughter or grandson on his lap because some weird fucker might find it sexual

The dear old bloke in the Santa suit has to get a police clearance and is under constant scutiny by every weird brainwashed do-gooder

But here we have it---the ultimate fucking Government interference and acceptance of grubby fucking minds.
My local Primary School (that's 5yo to 12yo) has banned hugging between year 6 and 7 students (that's 10 year olds to 12 year olds) because it might give the wrong impression to the younger students.

Get fucked you perverted old prudes----these are children
I don't care if the age of puberty is falling rapidly, this is hugging between friendly children, this is not sexual

God next thing they will be banning smoking and rooting behind the shed on the school oval.

How far is our advanced society going to go

Sunday, 18 October 2009


My paternal great grandfather emigrated to this area as a master mariner, sailing trading vessels along the shores of my State.
My maternal grandfather emigrated to this area to a fledgling ship building industry on the port's river, which actually didn't exist.
I have walked the sands, fished from the jetties, dived from the wharves and sailed on sail and motor powered craft from the inner river port, the outer harbour port and the white sandy beaches of this maritime wonderland but I have never really seen it all.

Oh, yes I have looked at it and I know about it and I have lived a lot of it but I have not appreciated what I have seen.
Not until I see it again through the eyes of others
I know the history---I have lived through some of it.

So Clyde, "Why did the build these jetties---just for people to walk out to sea a little or for the local recreational fishermen"

Well actually no----they are not as long as they used to be----they have been destroyed by angry seas over the years but the used to be outer port freight off loading jetties for the small sailing freighters that plied the coastal routes,
That tower on the foreshore used to be a semaphore signalling station to bring ships in from outer moorings at the right time.

I have started to realise that I know things----where the sand hills went and why they went. Why there is an inner and outer port, why there are beacon lights out to sea marking a channel, that the larger international ships need a pilot to guide them into port through that channel and that the last light is named the farewell
beacon.------and that I have been to the farewell beacon many a time on the pilot boat to pick up the pilot from the departing craft or take one to an inbound freighter.
Visitors wonder at my local pub on the marina----

They would wonder more if they knew that pub, surrounding townhouses and the marina were built on land reclaimed from a sea swamp that I used to ride race horses through to strengthen their legs.

I am starting to see more of my environment through the eyes of others and starting to see it again----it is as beautiful and intriguing as it always was.
I love this place---I love the history

Just look around
You never know what you will actually see for the first time---or remember

Oh, shit--a mirror, no, no, I don't need to know anymore there----I know the history

Saturday, 10 October 2009


Now I'm not sure if "Taking the piss" is an exclusively Australian saying but just in case, it's meaning is "having a joke at another persons expense".

Geez, funny language----take the piss is a joke but kick the shit is not----no, no, I'm not getting into the language again.

Now, I am not taking the piss here---no---but a lot of women in the world are.
It has a totally new meaning---

So here is the facts for you
Most Estrogen prescribed to menopausal women is derived from the urine of pregnant mares (female horses).
No bullshit---this is real---go on, google it.

Now obviously there is a lot of laboratory work and it comes in tablet or capsule form, but as per usual, you will be paying big money to some pharmaceutical company.

So what I am saying is that, if you need this medication, why don't you hang around the horse studs with your own bucket, take it home and put it in the fridge, mix it with your gin or vodka or just have a pint with your lamb chop on the BBQ.


Tuesday, 6 October 2009


You just have to love statistics
Who the hell surveys all of these things

But sometimes, when you can run two of them together, they do create some interest, or raise another question.

1. The average person farts 14 times per day

Now, I'm a bloke and I've gotta say that some days I know that I'm up on that average but I'm sure that most days I don't reach the average.
Should I go to the doctor and tell him that my fluffer valve is not operating the requisite number of times each day or just eat more fibre and try to catch up.
OK, more baked beans for me----so

2. The average person laughs 15 times per day.

Well OK, if you are farting 14 times, there has to be a few that you chuckle about---the one in the elevator at work just before you get out.
But are you laughing at every fart and if you are, well that's only 14 so what is number 15----was it that over productive fart that you really don't count as a fart---more like a whoops.
And if you are not chuckling about your farts---well what is so fucking funny 15 times a day

I'm just getting a chuckle out of thinking about these little blokes with clipboards, running around collecting all of this information.

So next time you hit the dunny (toilet---bloody English) and there is some bloke there with a clipboard, don't worry, he is only the statistics collector

Monday, 28 September 2009


OK, look it up----if you don't know the language-----HAIRY

I don't think that I have any less hair than I had 20 years ago but it has shifted a bit.
I have no idea how much hair I had when I was born.
Geez I have seen some nude nut babies who seem to sprout hair very quickly, some that sprout hair fairly slowly and some that wouldn't be out of place in a litter of Cocker Spaniels but lose the hair and grow it again.
What ever colour it is, the hair is on the top of your head and that is it---and it is straight, curly, wavy or frizzy naturally.----luck of the draw

But then you get to be "that" age and hair starts to grow in other regions----
Now if you are female it is only three areas (hopefully) but with guys it can be anywhere---well OK, "those three girly areas plus your face, chest and some even on the back.

It really doesn't matter if your head hair is straight or curly, the hair in your nether regions is curly-----why ?----I have no fucking idea---work it out for yourself.

OK, a few years into this more hirsute life, some people start to trim, shave or wax this hair-----guys shave their faces, girls have a go at the armpits and legs and then start to have a little trim of the bush----some keep on trimming, some shape, some shave completely some wax----all a personal choice----OK, and there are those who have to chop a gap in the mono brow and give the top lip a little grooming.

Of course there are those guys who who look like they are wearing King Kong's T shirt who decide to get the chest and back defoliated-----give them a few years and it becomes the back, crack and sack

Now here is my point------and mainly for guys-----you get to about half way through your life span and that hair on the top of your head starts to thin out----why---geez, I don't know---but it does-----and people start to say "Hey are you losing your hair"
Well I have to tell you----it ain't happening---you're losing nothing---it's just relocating--cos all of that hair that isn't growing on your head is finding other ways out----it's coming down your nose, out of your ears, its on your knuckles and I reckon there is a bit more around your but.
All of a sudden you are plucking and trimming more than your lady

Now one thing here guys-----I have never seen a good comb over---it might look OK to you and you might think that you are fooling everyone but you are not.
I have never seen a good rug yet.
If it gets to a stage where a regular hair cut just doesn't do it, have a number one all over or shave it.
And those eyebrows----if you can comb them, trim them---get your barber to do it

Ladies---just keep on doing what you are doing----you are beautiful---

Monday, 21 September 2009


How confusing is this English language

Now this is my native tongue although you may not think so at times.
If it confuses me at times, how confused are the poor people who migrate to English speaking countries and start learning the language for the first time.

OK, so it's called ENGLISH---so I'm guessing that it originated from England and quite well bastardised in England before being well and truly fucked up in the colonies.
So the language in England is different from the American English and again another language to the Australian version-----oh, and the New Zealanders just changed all of the vowels around to confuse the shit out of everyone.

Well if you are going to learn a language, you can get these little conversion books which will help you with phrases and hopefully phonetic pronunciations----and then you can go onto dictionaries-----now your gonna get confused----one word, three different spellings and twelve different meanings---and then the multiples and the tenses and Jebus, how does anyone learn it.
And then you go from one English speaking country to another and the meaning changes.

But really it is easy
A little Pig is a Piglet---right, you've got that---OK
So a little Ass is -----come on, its easy----Asset-----well, maybe not that easy
Lets try Dog---a little dog---well actually its Doggie but don't ask the girl at the pet shop for one and dogging it in Australia means that you aren't trying but in America it means that you are performing sexual act with strangers in public.

OK, lets try Cat----well a cat is a feline, a pussy, oh hang on, well a pussy is a cat but then again it can be female anatomy----oh, and a cat can be short for Catamite---and that's a guy who plays with his own gender but he doesn't pitch or catch----no, not baseball----oh, lets leave it there.

Oh, Fanny----OK, that's a girls name---well colloquially in Australia it's a vagina, but watch out in America because its a booty-----no, nothing to do with little boots---ah, shit this is confusing.
What ?, you've torn your dictionary now----OK, no worries, I've got some Durex---oh, you had better watch that one ----in Australia Durex is sticky tape--oh, the Americans call that cello tape---but in England, Durex is a French letter----ah shit, lets just try sign language or I'll convert to yours.

Look, if you really want to get a good grip on this language, you should try to do the crosswords in the daily paper-----OK
What---10 down---mild ejaculation----well, an ejaculation is---well look it up in your dictionary---(geez, whats a mild one---you don't pop the wax out of your ears---you don't need too many tissues for the clean up )-----oh, it means that too---OK, so work out mild from there

Oh, and next time I'm in Singapore, for the sake of $6.25, I'm gonna order one of those, just to see what I get.

Wednesday, 9 September 2009


Today's daily paper Crossword
28 Across

Sexual acts between people too closely related-----
Six letters and the third letter is "C"

Exciting---no, one too many letters
Taboo----of course not, there is no C
Uncle---no, only five letters and a silly answer
Dirty---no C again and only five letters
Threesome---well, they didn't mention how many

Well OK, what is too closely related ?
Now there is no Mother, Father, Son, Daughter----that is nasty----I don't care if you say that the family that plays together stays together---that is not on---no, no, not never, no.
And get past the grandfather stuff---too old, too nasty

But from there, where is your relationship
Your Aunt is only your Aunt because she married your Mothers brother----so there is no blood for you----but you could piss your uncle off
Your cousins----well they do share the half blood of you so it's probably not a great idea (and all of my good looking female cousins were a fair bit older)

OK, so we are at second cousins---geez, where is the relationship---how are they blood related to you-----do you know them----could you meet them on a night out and not know til they mention Great Aunt Mary.

What is closely related ?

Hey, not that I want to go there but it was a question in my crossword---
And there is the British Royals----a bit of cross pollination going on there---look at those ears.
Italians are still into marrying cousins (Geez, Church of Rome)
Small remote tribes---well you have to bonk someone.
We have a saying in Australia----pointed at one little island State----"Well, if he's not good enough for his own family, he's not good enough for ours"

Ah, your sister's best friend is fair game

What a stupid clue
Now 11 Across-----Skin irritation

Thursday, 3 September 2009


You may have realised before that I am not a great fan of the Catholic Church interfering with marriages and giving advice on the hows, whys, whens and wheres of sex.
Their greatest weapon over the centuries has been guilt and the number of unwanted children brought into this world because of their edicts on contraception and abortion, could populate a small country.

But NOW---now they are trying a new one.
Now I reckon this one is trying to get you to think of GOD more often (more often than never in my case)
I haven't heard of it before or anywhere else before, so it might not be a new ruling of the Papal Father----ooh, I know the jargon---not bad for a lapsed Presbyterian.

The Catholic Church in Britain has said that good Catholics should pray before sex---OK, well I'm used to begging, but praying ----and why the Brits
Do they figure that the Brits are having more sex than saying prayers---geez, I don't know what the deal is.
And what would the prayer be----what are you going to say ?
I'm thinking that it could be something like saying grace---"May we be thankful for what we are about to receive"

OK, it's got me beaten as to what the church could be thinking about but I for one congratulate the Catholics and would like to see this edict come to my country.
Why ?
Hey, anything that can get a good Catholic girl down on her knees has to be a good thing.

Oh, and thank you Michelle---I think I stole the photo from you

Monday, 31 August 2009


I own quite a large house near the sea valued valued well into the hundreds of thousands of dollars------------but I'm never going to sell it.
So it's actual value to me is as a roof over my head, a home for my dog and that it is very close to that beach I love to walk.

I have just bought a new car but its value to me is no more than that of my old car because it will get me to the same places and I'm not about to sell it.

I have heritage jewellery handed down for hundreds of years through my parents families but the value to me is only sentimental----my insurance company would beg to differ.

I have a small collection of Australia's most famous red wine but it's value is not what it would realise at auction but only that it belonged to my only brother who died 17 years ago.

I have always considered my situation to be on the better side of comfortable until I read something on the internasty-----and now I have realised how wealthy I am.

It has nothing to do with my possessions or their substantial monetary value.

I have FREEDOM--------------the most valuable thing of all
I can keep my possessions or I am free to sell them
I can stay in my house by the sea or I am free to move to anywhere in the world.
I am free to write about this or anything else that I want
I am now at an age where I can work or I am free not to
I am free to vote and elect my country's leaders

There are laws in this country that protect my freedoms---they even demand my freedoms.

If you don't think that freedom is of any great value, try living a country ruled by corruption---try living where fanatical religious laws override the laws of the land---try living where you have no rights because of gender

Oh, OK, love ran second

Wednesday, 19 August 2009

For Richer or Poorer

It is supposed to be the most memorable day of your life.
You only do it once so you should really go all out and make it memorable.
The brides parents are going to pay the bill


Oh, OK, some of you have been married forever and your wedding day is so memorable that you still get out the photos and play the video.
OK, I am going to admit that I cried on my wedding day----and it had nothing to do with pain or money.
I got married in the front yard of my inlaws house----we were going for cheap---the inlaws had no money, I had less in the bank than my blushing bride owed and I didn't think that my parents should front up for the lot.
I cried when I saw a beautiful woman in a white wedding gown walk though the crowd on the front lawn to marry me.
Hey, it was a great day and we partied in the back yard forever
Probably the most expensive individual item for the day was the wedding gown---although the kegs of beer cost me a bit.

Later I was to discover that was my wife's third wedding gown---yep, there they were---all along side each other in that locked cupboard
And of course, the guarantee ran out and it was all over and done with---beat the 7 year itch but not by much.

OK, the story

I'm reading the paper last weekend and find some average costs for a wedding.

Wedding---$49,202.---this is an average---
Reception---$10,476.---97 guests at $108 per head----come on--the cheapskates didn't spent that much on a gift and I don't know half of them
Dress----36% of brides spend $2,000 - $4,000----geez, and you are gonna wear it once.
Rings---Average for an engagement ring is $5116 and $1507 for a wedding band
Then there are cars, Grooms suit, bridesmaids dresses, groomsman's suits and the groom might have a wedding ring----a church / hall, a priest / celebrant.

Now that's all OK if you have the money but some people don't but want to impress the relatives and friends and go into all sorts of debt

My advice---cheap out on the wedding and spend it on the house or even the honeymoon.
Geez, you will remember the honeymoon more than the wedding.

But here is the best story
A young bride to be found her wedding dress in a shop in Australia---only $1500.00.
She asked that question---so this is made in Australia then?
When she was told that it would actually be made in China she thought she would go to the manufacturer
Now she was careful and did a lot of research on line before ordering the same dress from China
Result---got her dress---$162 in postage, $5 for insurance---and the dress---3 layers of silk and chiffon with embroidery, beading and the pleats across the bodice for the princely sum of $18.
Geez, maybe it could be a honeymoon in China and get the rest on the cheap

But is it all a rip off

Friday, 14 August 2009


Don't you just love statistics?
Those little figures and percentages that come out of nowhere about all sorts of shit that you have no interest in what so ever.

But then there is one that just strikes you as interesting----well, actually amazing.

Three in the one week, this week

30% of Australian women live in a marriage characterised by violence.
That is an amazing statistic and on face value I am ashamed to be an Australian man---and that would probably be the thoughts of most guys.

But then I thought---hmmmm, live in a marriage characterised by violence
OK, I lived in a marriage characterised by violence-----and before you throw stones---the violent one was the 4'11" woman that I was married to
My ex wife couldn't have a disagreement with me, followed by a logical spirited conversation-----no, it was her way or a slap, scratch, punch, tear clothes, scream and then tears----which, by her account, would always be my fault-----geez, the lies I told when I went to work with a black eye.
Hey sorry, no matter how violent she got, I could not hit back----ya just don't hit a girl.

And then I remembered a beautiful young lady who I worked with who regularly came to work with cuts, scratches and bruises----her partner was a rather large bear but didn't seem like a bad bloke.
Finally I lost my cool and said to her that if she came in with the signs of a beating again, I was coming around to see how tough he was with a bloke.
She begged me not to and told me that it was all her fault----I sat her down and told her that it was never her fault and that he needed to be taught that.
But she convinced me----she told me that she was a bit of a control freak and that she baited and baited him til he lost his cool----and that's how it always happened.
So I went around and saw him and told him to get in the car and come to my place for a beer before he belted her-----he did that for about two years before it all settled down------hey, they are still together and no more beltings and no more baitings.

So what I am saying is----live in a marriage characterised by violence----hmmm, but who is the violent one---and who is baiting who.

Sad-----Don't hit girls----good rule to live by-----if you feel like it, then just come and have a beer with Clyde

OK, well there was another two stats this week----and I love them----and if you put them together, you can make up your own stats.

75% of Brits are too lazy to have sex-----geez, you can do it laying down.

And, 40% of women have never masturbated-----ah, come on--if you have it you have to play with it.

OK, so if you break those stats down, 75% of those 40% of British women aren't even getting into owner operating-----so what the fuck are you ladies doing----are you watching too much TV, eating too many caramel creams, too many G & Ts, over indulging on the iced vovos .

So if we say the British population is 50% male and 50% female and that it is all of the guys that are too lazy and only half the females, then just give me a yell and I'll buy a ticket and come on over
Accuse me of anything, but never of being too lazy for sex

Monday, 10 August 2009


OK, let's finish this story and get on with life.

Things were looking good----having met this "lovely" lady on the beach, taking her out to the marina for breakfast and finding out that her 17 (I was wrong)year old daughter was the spunky young blond dog owner I had met on the beach some months before. And we are going out to dinner

OK, we are up to date.

So there is this magnificent Chinese Restaurant overlooking the lakes with a great piano bar----the food is wonderful. I made a booking and went to pick up the yummy mummy at the prearranged time.
When I told her where we were going she said "Oh, I don't like Chinese food"--well they do have an expanded menu with very good Thai and Indian----"Oh, I'm sorry Clyde, I don't like foreign food---actually, I don't like Asians"
OK, knock me down---a big admission on your first "date" but honest.
I thought that there had to be a very good reason, so I went with the flow even though I have no racial prejudices or preconceptions-----I am a bit worried at this stage.
So on her choice we head for a local pub------hey, this is gonna be cheaper and I don't really mind this place.
We walk in through the front door and some guy talks to yummy mummy---fine, she stops to talk to him but doesn't introduce me----hmm, OK, it's a first date---we head into the dining room and a table full of people says hi to her but we don't stop---the food waitress knows her by name----hmmmmm-----the barman knows her by name and knows what she wants to drink----hmmm, OK, she is a regular.
Now during pre dinner conversation another guy comes over and starts taking to her---she carried on the conversation til he looked at me and said "Sorry mate, my name is Rod"
YM said "Oh, yeh, hey Rod, you wouldn't believe where Clyde tried to take me for dinner---bloody chew and spew"----Rod chuckled and said "He'll learn"

Our dinner arrived and Rod left---we exchanged small talk-----I was busting to ask but left it alone.
The rest of the night was filled with people talking to her and me not being introduced to half of them.
It was late when we got to her house and she had to work the next day so she asked to be excused and said it was a great night and she couldn't wait to see me again.

I was disturbed by the racism and by being ignored while she spoke to so many other people but put it down to a first night a few nerves.
She phoned me the next day to tel me that she had really enjoyed the night---that she was having an early night that night but would love to see me the next night---"what about we go to the pub again--it's a relaxing place"----so why not.

OK, fast forward here a little----you don't need to know---and no, I wasn't getting any---you perverts

It was Saturday night---we are going out-----there are choices---there is no work for her the next day-----dinner, movies, river cruise, trotting races, football match, nightclub, takeaway and DVD, any of the above and a walk on the beach with a bottle of champagne, a cemetery tour.
And the winner is "Clyde, why don't we just go to the pub?"
So we went to THAT pub---didn't want to go to another
Dejavu-----not introduced to another dozen people and ignored while she spoke to half of the people in the pub.
I had decided that this was my last night with yummy mummy---but then she said "Clyde, why don't we go early and go back to your place and fuck".-----come on, not me, that was word for word---YM said FUCK
Now, I have to tell you---Yummy Mummy is very yummy----ok, for those who can't work out yummy, this is one very spectacular looking lady, body to die for----so who am I to knock it back

But here it is----I just cant forget the racist bit of the first night----now, it would have been easy to let it go and had a great night exploring the mountains of Europe and canyons of America looking for the eruptions of a dormant volcano but I can't.
We are in the car and I just have to ask
"So what is this problem that you have with Asians?"---"Is it a war thing to do with Vietnam or the Japanese of WW11?"------"Have you had a very bad experience with someone Asian ?"
"No, I just don't like them or their food---there are too many of them in our country---they're taking over---they are everywhere---them and their fucking restaurants------breeding all their little fucking Asian kids"
But YM "They are people, the same as you and me---they have migrated here the same as most of our forefathers and all of our Italian and Greek communities---they are Australians"
YM said "You have to be joking, them and the bloody Italians and Greeks, they come here and think that they own the place---they should all go home"

Well that was it and home it was
Her home----I pulled up out the front of her house, got out of the car, opened her door and told her how self absorbed she was and that I couldn't be with anyone who was so racially intolerant.
My God, I could have waited one more night----or at least 3 or 4 hours

This morning as I walked the beach the pooch was joined in the water by a golden retriever----I didn't look around---I didn't want to know and then I heard---
"Hi Clyde, you really pissed mum off"
There was the 17yo from that first morning
"Sorry, but I have my reasons and I think I am right"
She snickered "So do I ----she is a racist bitch and she is up herself with all her pub mates----I'm sorry---I hoped it would work out----I would have liked for you to be around"

I smiled----"You know where I am"

Saturday, 1 August 2009


Geez, I reckon it was back in about February---hey, you can check back if you like.
Ok, I had a very early morning walk on the beach with super pooch---she will drag you there any time.
I hear this yelping from a dog and yelling from a girl and being the good guy that I am (was) I went to investigate and found this beautiful golden retriever with a paw pad nearly sliced off from an encounter with broken glass and a very cute well endowed young lady owner in distress
OK, the story goes that I clean up the dog's wound and send her off to get her car to transport the dog----rip my own T shirt as a bandage, not hers----when she gets back and takes her dog, I am left with a ripped shirt and no idea who this absolute spunk is.

Fast forward about five months.

So this morning I cant sleep---hey, I'm retired and it is Saturday but I just cant stay in bed---it's a nice crisp clear morning so I decide to have an early one on the beach with the pooch---hey, and she is not complaining
Pooch had been in the water, I don't know how many times and we had been walking for about an hour, when she is joined by a golden retriever.
Geez, dogs make friends quickly---they were having a ball.

I was oblivious to my surroundings watching these two dogs enjoying each others company and splashing in the cold morning sea when I heard a voice saying "She is a lovely dog"

I turned to see a very attractive woman in her 40s who obviously was with the retriever.
I said "Yes, she is everyone's friend and she really enjoys playing with another dog"
She said "It's funny, my dog is not that friendly with other dogs but she has really taken a shine to yours"
I just smiled and was about to light a cigarette when she said "I don't suppose I could bludge(Aussie for steal, borrow, have) one of those---I don't usually smoke before breakfast but I just feel like one"----of course, I gave her a smoke and we wandered along just chatting about nothing----she was delightful company and I was becoming more aware of how attractive this woman was---looks and conversation.
We got to the point where she would leave the beach and I asked if she would like to have breakfast at the Marina-----of course she wouldn't---but she did---she accepted.

Hmm, Clyde, this early morning stuff is alright
So I arranged to meet her and took my dog home-----hey, who needs a pooch begging for your outdoors eggs and bacon.
I picked her up at the arranged spot and headed off for a delightful breakfast.

She was a lovely lady-----she didn't want to tell me much about herself but the company was great----the trust built a little and I could actually drop her at her house.
We stood outside talking when her daughter (very stunning looking young lady) walked out of the house, looked at me and said "you"
Her mother looked at me like I was some sort of perverted rapist----but then I breathed again and said "Hello, long time no see"
She said "Mum, this is that guy who bandaged Bonny's foot up on the beach and sat with her til I got the car.

Mummy looked at me and said "My god, my daughter has raved about you and has looked for you ever since"

Ok, the moral is that the daughter is only 16---whew, the thoughts I had about her and her tits----but mummy is only 42, very attractive and divorced.

Now I'm not sure where any of this is going but Mum and I are having dinner tomorrow night.

Geez, that bloody dog of mine will pick up anything on the beach

Monday, 27 July 2009


Hey, a new computer
Thank you Mr Insurance man----just have to set up the wireless connection
It's been like Christmas
Two new cameras, a new laptop, gift card on a big tool shop and another on a big department conglomerate and a cheque and all from the insurance company.

It is not a nice feeling coming home from work to find that you have been burgled but when they take your virus riddled computer, a film camera that you haven't used for years, a watch that you have worn once and don't really want, a photo printer that is surplus now that you own a multi printer and business clothes and shoes on the eve of your retirement, you have to think it wasn't the worst thing that could happen to you.-----geez, why didn't they take the car---OK, I'll just have to buy a new one myself.
I can feel a KIA coming my way

I cant tell you what retirement is like----so far it's just like being on holidays and they are still paying me from work----I guess that will just keep going because I have been paying into an old Government Superannuation scheme that will pay me 72.5% of my salary for the rest of my life---and it is even indexed against my final wage-----and I don't have to go to work----or I can if I want and get paid another wage on top.

I guess I'm gonna find out

Friday, 10 July 2009


OK, the big day is here.
I retire today from a 43 year career.
I'm guessing that there is a big chance that I could have a drink or two with a few people and I may not get home til tomorrow.

I'll probably need a protector later tonight---where is Jimmy when you need him.

Tomorrow will start a new career.
Up about two hours later than normal and off to the beach with the pooch for an hour or so.
Then it will be back home and have a talk to the pooch about what we should do for the rest of the day.
If she doesn't say much, I'll just have to please myself.

Had a call first thing this morning from Miss "I hope she comes here soon"----she had bought me a retirement gift----a $1500.00 show bred puppy.
I am always grateful when people think of me but I had to tell her that, by myself, I don't want another dog but if it was a package deal with her and the new puppy, then come on down.
I doubt that I will see her any time soon.

Anyhow, the title
Well, I have managed a post here and there from my work computer but that ceases today----and I have managed a post from my virus riddled computer at home---well that has ceased----??????
Well I got burgled last Friday
Yep, they took the computer
How sad, I was going to buy a new one in the next couple of weeks but now the insurance company is kindly going to give me a new one.
I'm not sure when but til then, I am OUT OF TOUCH

Stay well
I will catch you soon with stories of my new life

Tuesday, 30 June 2009


I've never really thought about it before.

There were so many things that you did so innocently as a child, that if you repeated them today, you would be arrested.

But as I head for what they say is a second childhood for men, can my new found innocence protect me from prosecution.

Thursday, 25 June 2009


All anyone wants in the world is to be loved.

Ok, I've told you that I am now 60 and I have been waiting for this long time friend and that is still a work in progress---oh, and it is progressing

But out of the blue I get this email

"Hello, I like your profile on this Indian introduction service and I like you"
Geez, hang on---Indian what service---I've really gotta to stop drinking and surfing around on the internasty---no wonder I've got this bloody infection.
But then again it was a Saturday night and a little cool so a bourbon or two wasn't going to harm anyone----and if someone sends you an email, ya have to reply.

Ok,well I replied and of course back comes a whole lot of detail, like---
"I'm 24 from The Congo living in a refugee camp in Dakar Senegal and getting access via some christian minister's computer"

Alright---I started it so I replied with a quick---hey girl, take note I'm 60 years old and don't think a 24 year old should be looking my way

She replied again and now it started----
"Age is no problem---my parents were murdered in a coup in the Congo---I'm stuck in this camp---I'm only allowed out on Mondays and Fridays."

After another quick reply I get.
"I need your help--my dead father left me with a statement from a leading European bank and I have his death certificate---I need your help to get access to the $6.5 million in the bank and then we can live happily ever after----here is my photo"

And all I have to do is send her my bank account details and access codes and she will be here with her $6.5 million and she will be eternally grateful.

How lucky can I be

Tuesday, 9 June 2009


"OK Clyde, it's time"

Time for what ?

"Well time for another post at least---you have been very slack lately"

OK, I guess I have but this computer is infected----wont hold settings---I've lost all of my contacts, can't access two of my mail accounts---It's time for a new one.

"So why haven't you bought a new one or at least had this one deloused ?"

Well I figure it's not worth having this one deloused if I'm gonna buy a new one and I'm about to get a fairly big pay out from work, so I'm waiting til then.

"Ooh, a pay out---so what is the deal with that ?"

OK, I guess it's time to elaborate on a few personal details

"What details---like what you have told us so far ?"

Yep, that's the ones

"Alrighty then, lets have the goss on Clyde"

Well, I have always admitted to being on the wrong side of 35----well, I am well and truly on the wrong side----I had one of those big birthdays back in April

"So you are 40 then ?"


"Not 50 ?"


"Jebus H Christ Clyde, you are not bloody 60 ?"

Yep, scary isn't it ?

"Well OK, but what is this pay out thingy ?"

Alright--well back in the dark ages, when I was 17, I started paying into a Superannuation pension scheme and elected to have it mature at 60----so what that gives me is 75% of my wage indexed for the rest of my life as soon as I retire from work after I turn 60-----
Well, I am now 60 so I am going to retire on the 10th of July
Not retire from life but from my Government employer of the past 43years

"Ah, Government, so you are going to get a big golden handshake then ?"

Hah, the Government will not give me one cent that I have not earned----they don't even pay up for a farewell gift----
No,in Australia, on average, workers get 4 weeks paid leave per year---but on top of that the earn long service leave---so, after 10 years of service with an employer, you get an extra 90 days of leave---then 9 days per year til you have completed 15 years of service and then 15 days per year.
So if you retire and have not taken any part of that long service leave, they will pay you out------and I have 505 days and I get a lump sum pay out for that.
That's my pay out

"So we have to wait til after 10th July for you to buy a new computer ?"

Well, I could buy it now but I want to keep my ready cash on hand because my investments halved in the Stock Market crash.
Any way, now that I have been outed as a 60 year old nearly retired Government worker, I doubt that anyone will be flocking to read the word according to Clyde.

"I'll still be reading Clyde"

Ok, I'll keep trying to write then----but maybe not before July

"See you then"

Friday, 8 May 2009


I am struggling to post anything at the moment with a virus riddled computer.
I's about time I bought another one and that is coming up in the next month

But while I'm here I thought I could throw these in for the lovely Spiky Zora Jones

Ms Jones, I have no doubt that you could turn me into a lesbian---oh, hang on, I already am---I love women

Oh, and I love a good cup cake

Wednesday, 22 April 2009


Hollywood can keep on producing all of the films that they like but but they will never come up with anything that will beat this.

I don't know why---I haven't seen it for years

For all of these years it has never been so entertaining

But then I played it backwards----Oh, how wonderful it is
Nothing could give me so much joy.

Oh, it's my wedding video

Play it backwards and my ex takes off her ring, goes back down the aisle, climbs in the car and fucks off.

Great ending

Monday, 20 April 2009


You see them on the trains

You see them walking on the streets

You see them sitting on park benches

You see them in elevators

They nod their heads, they hum, they dance a little, they even sing along

All of those people with headphones, in their own little worlds, totally oblivious to their surroundings.

It must be great to live in your own little world, but you should remember that you are actually in ours.

Tuesday, 14 April 2009


Sometimes you have no idea why you get emotional about things.

A fairly average news story
A 47 year old Scottish woman enters a talent competition
Not her local town---a national competition against all comers
She is not pretty, she is not handsome, you could not say that she had style
She is a church volunteer, a virgin, never been kissed----you see her and don't wonder why
She has never sung in front of an audience
You, along with everyone else cringe
How the hell did this woman get there on national television
The Judges take the piss out of this unattractive lump but she is there to perform.

OK Susan, get on with it

I have watched this 5 times and been brought to tears every time

Bravo Susan
May I never judge another book by its cover

Monday, 13 April 2009


Everything that we do in life seems to have some rules set by somebody else.

We go to school and of course the teachers and the school board sets rules

We go to work and there are rules on attendance times and there are dress codes.

In relationships, it doesn't matter, guy or girl, you will abide by some stipulation laid down by your partner.

But there are some rules that you just cant play by

No wonder that I drink

Monday, 30 March 2009


We are very good at stereotyping people
Putting them in little clearly defined little boxes

"So mate, what do you do for a living ?"

"Oh, I'm a dress designer"

Oooh, straight away we have this guy eating from the other side of the buffet.

"And what about you buddy. What do you do for a crust ?"

"Well, I'm a Ladies Hairdresser"

Yep, straight away we have him playing for the other team and cross dressing on weekends

What we really have to do is look inside their lives, their dreams and we might just find another picture.

"So son, you want to be a dancer ?"

Yep, me too

Friday, 20 March 2009











Wednesday, 18 March 2009


The Global Facts ...

At Any Given Moment:

79,876,301 people are engaged in intercourse right now.

58,704,827 are kissing.

37,490,625 are relaxing after having sex.

1 lonely bugger is reading blog posts.

You hang in there sunshine!

Friday, 13 March 2009


Whether or not you are a country music fan, this is truly the work of a deep thinker, and highly intelligent person.

So simple, yet so profound. Words of wisdom from that famous philosopher Willie Nelson, on his 75th birthday:


Very profound for a guy who seems to feature in so many groin tattoos

Tuesday, 10 March 2009


The simplest little thing can have so many uses

One of the greatest inventions for mankind

Thursday, 5 March 2009



Apple Computer announced today that it has developed a computer chip that can store and play high fidelity music in women's breast implants.

The iTit will cost between $499.00 and $699.00 depending on speaker size.

This is considered to be a major breakthrough because women have always complained
about men staring at their breasts and not listening to them.

Aint technology wonderful

Wednesday, 25 February 2009


For centuries, wars have been raged in the name of religion.

I find it hard to understand that all religions teach peace, yet wage wars to exert their superiority.

In the end, most of the conflicts come down to race

It is all a joke

I don't hate you because of your race or because of your religion----I am just totally pissed off because you want to fight me because you think I don't support you

But this takes the cake----two local churches-----
No wonder we have "religious wars"

Sunday, 22 February 2009


Pfizer Corp. announced today that Viagra will soon be available in liquid form, and will be marketed by Pepsi Cola as a power beverage suitable for use as a mixer.

It will now be possible for a man to literally pour himself a stiff one.

Obviously we can no longer call this a soft drink, and it gives new meaning to the names of 'cocktails', 'highballs' and just a good old-fashioned 'stiff drink'.

Pepsi will market the new concoction by the name of: MOUNT & DO.

Ah, Friday night drinks will never be the same

Friday, 20 February 2009


My doctor referred me to a urologist.

To my surprise, the urologist was a female, beautiful, and unbelievably sexy looking.

She told me that I have to stop masturbating.

I asked her why.

She said, 'Because I am trying to examine you.'

Friday, 13 February 2009


Ok, I have a reputation of being a nice guy----Duh, yep, I know---nice guys finish last
But I also have a reputation of never missing an opportunity

Now, I will sleep through WW111-----my head hits the pillow, I wont wake til alarm time and sometimes, second alarm time.
But Thursday morning, I was wide awake at 5.15am and could not get back to sleep.

Well, ok, I'll take the pooch for a walk on the beach before work----a little dark when we first got there but oh so peaceful. And that dog was in and out of the water and enjoying life to the max

Hey, I'm getting there---don't be fucking impatient.

So it's daylight and we are heading back home when I hear this yelping from a dog and this screaming from a woman-----
Na, come on---I didn't touch her or her dog----well not yet

So I dash on over---well actually, ambled----other early morning dog walkers were just walking past----and I find this rather cute young lady with a Golden Retriever with blood pouring down its leg.
God, this chick is out of control-----no idea, other than her dog is bleeding---

Of course my pooch is very helpful---she wants to play and lick the blood off the dogs leg----good girl.

Now it's early in the morning, and I'm not a morning person, but I do notice that the young lady is very cute and that on a chilly morning, she has no bra beneath her T-shirt-----ah, come on, her head lights were on---you know, the circuit breakers were popped----arrh, come on, her nipples were hard.

Ok, so I check out the dogs leg and find that it has sliced the centre pad on its foot on a broken bottle----almost sliced it off.
Now it's still cool but for some reason, I have taken my pooch's drink bottle with me.
So I clean up the foot and see all of the damage----
I said to the girl 'Hey, you can't walk this dog off the beach----you need to get her to the Vet ASAP and we have to stop this bleeding.
Of course, by pooch is helping out trying to lick as much blood as she can.

Now here is the total fuck up

I said to her---"We have to bandage this leg and you have to get a car down here to transport her and get her to the Vet.

Now, it's her dog---I need bandage-----she is wearing a T-shirt----no bra----and what do I do-------
Yep, say nothing and tear my own bloody T-shirt and bind the dogs leg---
Then I tell her I will stay there with both dogs while she gets her car.

It's a work day, I'm up early------45 fucking minutes it takes her to get back---
I load her dog into the car and she takes off.

So here it is------
I don't ask for her T-shirt----lovely tits
I don't ask her for her name
I don't ask her for her number
And she has gone
I phone the closest Vet, and she hasn't gone there.

I walk home----half a T-shirt----I have a wet dog with blood over it----I clean her up, dry her off, feed her, shower and head to work
I'm an hour late and they are not impressed------til I tell them

Fuck Clyde, you are getting slow
I'll bet I never see her again

Oh, the dog----
She will be alright----plenty of clean bleeding from the live flesh----they will stitch that up----it will take time, but I bet it's eating as only a Retriever or Labrador can

I'm not sure that I will recover