This will hurt me...

Not since the release of The Passion of St Tibulus has the state of Tasmania been as excited as they are about the rumoured Bollywood epic starring Henry, Ezra and a pile of CGI dinosaurs! The photo, by the by, is a slice of summer. Taken in early January, it features and impressive pair of nostrils and a reversal hat.

I am not a man of faith, but one must admire the local Anglican hierarchy for renting out a building right next to their local HQ (pictured above) to a nightclub that features events like "topless pool" and the Tasmanian leg of the "Miss Nude Australia Quest". It's that sort of thinking that will once again locate the church at the centre of people's lives! It also represents an excellent example of value adding. You get the rent accrued through reckless debauchery , then hit the punters' guilt over all that filthy and wicked sin . Everybody wins. Next up: wet t-shirt contests in the Holy font!

I am looking to exhaust the backlog of cute Ezra pictures, so that I can show a whole new stream of cute Ezra pictures. Here is one from a few months back, with the little bloke exploiting some lovely afternoon sunlight. For the record, the fellow turfed off the roof in the tale of Theme Thursday was most definitely not me. I'm insulted that anyone would think that'd I'd be silly enough to get myself into that situation. Just as I wouldn't be on the roof throwing them off, I'm not the kind to be thrown off either. I'm the one laughing and pointing all the while People like that ought to be ashamed. As for the end result, I do believe that he was fine, aside from a few bumps and bruises. That and an almighty hangover.

Power lines can be an ugly, rotten feature of modern life. I think that, as with most things, it's about how you look at it. On that theme, here is a poem. Control It's all in the preparation. Drink all afternoon, have a feed, Drink 'til midnight. Another feed. Hit the speed. Hit the clubs. Home to watch sunrise. Ecstasy. A quiet drink, smoke some weed. Balance and moderation . As with most things in life.

I'm trialling Henry for some work down in the salt mine. I'll let you know how he gets on.

Yeah, it's Theme Thursday again, and again I'm a bit stuck for words. The picture, no problem. I took this photograph last week as I came into work featuring 10 Murray (which is very much solidifying its presence in my heart), Henry's mate the moon, and some tasty looking clouds. I like the picture a lot, and it features today's theme, ROOF . But what more is there to say about it? "A roof is the covering on the uppermost part of a building." Thrilling stuff. I will tell you the three things that came to mind when I thought about roofs today (and I'm not promising it to be interesting or funny): 1) I know a bloke who, on his eighteenth birthday - and in a drunken state, (of course) - was taken up to the roof of the local scout hall, bound to a plastic lawn chair with packing tape, and then tossed off in celebration to the delight of a cheering throng. It went down in local folklore as "a top night". 2) When I was a kid, if you took the televis...

The things that modern satellite technology picks up is really quite amazing these days. Here you can see Ezra sitting in our driveway. Remarkable ! On another note, whatever happened to Britpop? Is it really coming on fifteen years now? Christ I am getting old...

and i never really knew what was going on but blue lights red lights all around so window open scarper down street wanting all the time find out fuss i never even knew the girl by now i feel sick and taste bile need a drink need a smoke i don't even smoke drinking down the drunken admiral send you all my regards you're so tough you're so hard rain's coming down now sleep's well clear so west is the go go west young man and the lights on cambridge road stretch out and invite how i'd like to stop here right here with someone like you the gulf between the things i want and the things i need but watch out watch out don't trust anyone these days wait and think and think and think nothing of it of course if i were five years young ten years prettier if i was fifteen how things would be different but it's the drink and a longing look longing for that look could it be could it be no up to your old tricks again never to be trusted never be seen never saw always s...

His name is Henry. He's here to help. I asked Henry which of Kokata, Delhi, Mumbai or Chennai he liked best. The answer? "I like them all, but if we're talking Indian cities, one cannot go past Tharangambadi." He's a sucker for the Danes. I blame Hamlet.

Looking out. Lookunout. Lukunout. Lukunoot. Look a nut! Look an out! Luke an owl. Look leek soup. Loop-de-loop. The loop. The hoop. Circle. Perfect circle. Acquaintances and friends. They don't come in conveniant sizes. Round. Roundabout. Roustabout. How about you? How about me? You and me? about me? Nothing doing. Nothing? Not a stitch. He's a god now. He's dead now. And now. And now. The moment. BECOME. BEING. BECOMING. GONE. Opportunity. Window. Windowless mirror. Image. Image is everything. Anything goes. Going. Going. Gone. Forever. Permanence. Forever. Never. Ever. Together. Two of us. Going. Nowhere. On our own. Own. Possession. Loss. Empty. MT. MG. Racing green. Leaf. Idea. Idea leaf. Imperative. Mission. Plan. Master. Slave. Morality. Ammorality. Herd. Sheep. Flock. Frock. Jesus. Christ. Right. Wrong. Write on. Write off. Right off the planet. Right now. Right then. How about you? You? You? You and me? NEVER! Together. Pieces. Puzzle. Quandry. Quantity. Quality. Qu...

Not even one and he's already got his driver's license!

Here is someone bringing their boat back to park it in the picturesque bay down in Bellerive Village. Bellerive is four bays south of Geilston Bay (OUR bay): Lindisfarne Bay; Rose Bay; Montague Bay; and then Bellerive. I think that this makes us related. Or something. I was on the bus the other day trying - and failing - to shut out the racket that is the local "yoof" conversing. Indeed, I could feel my I.Q. dropping by the minute as I valiantly tried to block out the inane, mundane and profane musings of the masses, and tried to concentrate on the Ukrainian existentialist black comedy I was trying to read. One thing struck me, and it isn't an original thought, it's one I've pondered before: when did the word 'gay' cease to mean 'queer' (as in 'homosexual', rather than 'unusual')? It seems to me that at this place, in this point in time, to be 'gay' is no longer associated with 'limp wristed', 'a flair for the dr...

Here are the three of them in the Royal Botanical Gardens on Good Friday, back in April. I'm tired. Todder-induced lethergy. I'm going to sleep. Good night.

SO the other day I promised a close up of the mountain. Here you go, with bonus cloud! In the the spirit of "running short of time and ideas", I've introduced a new theme for Sundays, the WORLD FAMOUS Sunday Top Five ! This week I start with off the top of my head a meticulously researched list of my Top Five Cover Songs : The Gourds bluegrass interpretation of Snoop Doggy Dogg's Gin and Juice manages to turn a turgid mess into a stoke of genius. A generous helping of banjo sees Marah's version of Streets of Philadelphia liven up Bruce Springsteen's laid back original. Although Marvin Gaye improved on Gladys Knight (and the Pips) I Heard It Through the Grapevine , I think that Creedence Clearwater Revival have to take a bow for taking it in a whole different direction. Love her or hate her, you have to admit that Sinead O'Connor manages to make a pretty decent single out of an ordinary Prince album track with Nothing Compares 2 U . The last spot I'm...