Skip to main content

Of all escape mechanisms, death is the most efficient.


Another sunrise over Davey Street. To paraphrase Mr Hendrix from some time ago, excuse me while the sun KISSes the sky. Those of you who live in proper cities will be delighted to hear that this line of cars is what constitutes "heavy traffic" here in Hobart.

It's Theme Thursday you see, and the challenge today is that of KISS.

I would like to expand on the subject of KISSing, however life prevents me from exploring it in too much depth. That said, it is a practice that I quite enjoying – in the right sort of company of course.

Alas, I am required at a three hour navel gaze interface all morning, so the best that I can manage is a list of five things that I’d rather be KISSing than go to this meeting today:
  1. Decrepit harpy Dame Margaret Thatcher (with tongues);

  2. The mangy cat that lurks around my bus stop of a morning (no tongues);

  3. A large sandpit full of mud, nails and dead gum leaves;

  4. Six of Snow White’s seven dwarves midgets little people (the current concern over swine flu prevents me from tonguing Sneezy);

  5. Current Hollywood trainwreck Mischa Barton.
Hang on a tick... Another look at that photo... Scrub that, I’d rather go to the meeting if it’s all the same!

Comments

Roddy said…
Yair hang on, I'll join you.
Brian Miller said…
ugh...go to the meeting! got to the meeting! much too late to look at pics like that...lol. nightmares.
Anonymous said…
Andy Warhol thought the most embarrassing thing that could happen to you is death
yamini said…
Its a lovely warm photograph.

And just one question: what does the second one exactly mean?
Kris McCracken said…
Roddy, I have been to worse.
Kris McCracken said…
Brian, it is horrific traffic.
Kris McCracken said…
Pasadenaadjacent, very occasionally Andy was on to something.
Kris McCracken said…
Yamini, "mangy" 1. Affected with, caused by, or resembling mange; or 2. Having many worn spots; shabby.

Or is the the tongues that you were wondering about?
Megan said…
You call that horrific traffic? Bwahaha. Took me 2 hours to go 37 miles today.

Sorry, just had to tell somebody...
JeffScape said…
Navel gazing can be nice if at a beach, eh?
Sarah said…
I'm much interested in your post's title!
Sue said…
Your blog title hits a nerve...have been dealing all week with the ramifications of the suicide of Cody's girlfriend's best friend. Sad...tragic...a bloody waste!
If only they realised what they were doing to the people they leave behind! It may be an 'escape' for them...but it traps their loved ones into a living nightmare!
I love your version of...heavy traffic!

Oh and...I think after this October and the expected new flu vaccines...sneezy will be quite safe to kiss lol

xoxo
Baino said…
I feel better now, just had a couple of heartwrenching bloggers so nice to come down to reality. Hey did you see the moon tonight. Amazing up here and I didn't have my camera!
yamini said…
Ha Ha Ha Ha....
I was in fact.
Anonymous said…
Heavy traffic? Bwahahahaaa! Sorry, spent too much time driving in Boston...and I think I'd kiss the sky on this one, if given that choice( horrors on the other five! )
Leah said…
Oy, that's gotta be some hell of a meeting...
Ed & Jeanne said…
For a fee, I think I can arrange most of those kisses for you...
Tess Kincaid said…
Must be one hellava meeting.
Ronda Laveen said…
Kissing Dame Thatcher with tongue(s)? You have more than one? I did not know you were not of this planet.
Betsy Brock said…
Oh gosh..."that picture"...very, very disturbing. Yes, I'm with Brian...just go the meeting! :)
Kris McCracken said…
Megan, drivers in Tasmania don’t know how good they have it.
Kris McCracken said…
JeffScape, depends on the navel!
Kris McCracken said…
Sarah, that is Henry Ward Beecher, an interesting fellow indeed!
Kris McCracken said…
Sue, I am not a fan of the suicide route, and incredibly selfish – albeit desperate – act. For a time there, Braddon (including Burnie) held the un-envious record of having the highest youth suicide rate in Australia, as well as the highest rate of men aged 40–55. We’re talking the period 1990–96, so that’s just as I was leaving high school. Suffice to say, I have a long list of names of people who killed themselves. The worst part is when the (ostensible) reason is eminently ‘fixable’. No fun at all for those left behind.
Kris McCracken said…
Marianna, it is terrible, isn’t it?
Kris McCracken said…
Baino, the moon has been a treat of late! I am glad to represent ‘reality’! I always thought that “reality bites”, but I don’t bite (unless asked).
Kris McCracken said…
subtorp77, traffic is like other people: hell.
Kris McCracken said…
Leah, it turned out okay, actually.
Kris McCracken said…
VE, I wouldn’t pay...
Kris McCracken said…
willow, we we’re talking about prisons!
Kris McCracken said…
Ronda Laveen, I have one (albeit as large as two, people tell me). I was thinking about Maggie AND mine.
Kris McCracken said…
Betsy, I have been and returned!
Wings1295 said…
That must be one boring ... interface? Errrr....
Kris McCracken said…
Wings, I cannot tell you how I hate the term "interface".

We don't have meetings any more.
Hi! Kris,

kris said,"so the best that I can manage is a list of five things that I’d rather be KISSing than go to this meeting today
,..A large sandpit full of mud, nails and dead gum leaves;...

..."Six of Snow White’s seven dwarves midgets little people (the current concern over swine flu prevents me from tonguing Sneezy)"


LOL!!!!
DeeDee ;-D
tony said…
THATCHER!!!!!???????????
Kris McCracken said…
Tony, that should indicate how disparate I was...

Popular posts from this blog

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.