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