Men will cease to be fools only when they cease to be men.

Here is a monkey - a Japanese Macaque to be precise - with a lemonade Icy Pole. Most probably, this monkey has venereal disease. As soon as I tell you that, you will know that we must be in Launceston!

Launceston is an interesting city, it's record-breaking in many ways: Launceston was the location of the first use of anaesthetic in the Southern Hemisphere; it was the first Australian city to have underground sewers; the first Australian city to be lit by hydroelectricity; it is widely recognised as the "blockie" capital of Australia; and last (but certainly not least), it has the highest parentage of VD-infected Japanese Macaque monkeys living within its municipal boundaries.

Take a bow Launceston!

Comments

Roddy said…

Would the blockies have anything to do with their one way streets? When I first drove to Launceston way back in the late 70's, I couldn't find the way out. Round and round we went. Obviously I eventually found where you turn left,instead of right.

9 June 2009 at 12:29

Priyanka Khot said…

i agree with the quote.

9 June 2009 at 16:36

Sue said…

Obviously the monkey with the icy pole agrees with your most loved food list. I hope that your prognostication that he has venereal disease is not linked to the icy pole. Or must I assume that you are riddled with the dreaded STD also because you like to consume icy poles???
If there is so much VD in Launceston (due to icy pole eating monkeys)...shouldn't you have ended your post with...."Take an antibiotic Launceston!" hehehe

9 June 2009 at 20:53

Kris McCracken said…

Roddy, there is not much else to do...

13 June 2009 at 09:12

Kris McCracken said…

Priyanka, it is hard to be a man in 2009.

13 June 2009 at 09:13

Kris McCracken said…

Sue, they are filthy monkeys.

13 June 2009 at 09:13

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

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.

This will hurt me...

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