Tasmanian Tigers, We're A Victory Machine!

They should bring that little ditty back, far more appropriate now we're top of the table and hosting the final!

I'm calling it now, Tassie to win the shield! Bugger it! Essendon to win the flag this year as well!

No I'm not getting carried away. It will happen, I feel it in my water!

Watch for Jaques to get a pair, Paine to get 300 and the New South Welshman get a run in the next test team.

Here's hoping the Hilfenstud will do the business as well. And I'd like to see Clingeleffer do the job and remind the selectors that he's the best keeper in the country and should be playing every game.

Comments

Barry Freelove said…

Good luck to you, hope the rain comes. If not, Lambert will get a double century and media picked as next in line.

I acknowledge the diverse range of topics that are being presented on this blog. However, it's heartening that important issues such as the Pura Cup are getting a bit of coverage to counter the Biggest Loser stuff.

13 March 2007 at 12:39

Kris McCracken said…

TBL is the only show that gets a look in at the moment.

Bloody babies.

17 March 2007 at 18:14

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut

This will hurt me...

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