This will hurt me...

Cars on the Tasman Bridge. As seen from The Queens Domain. December 2012. A Virtuous Woman , Kaye Gibbons: A slight novel of a man and woman who are married out of convenience, yet still find love and comfort with each other. C+ .

Ezra cleans his mother's car. Consider the reflection of me a bonus!

Heading home. East Derwent Highway, Geilston Bay. June 2012. Wordless Wednesday. Nearly there. East Derwent Highway, Geilston Bay. June 2012.

Frost on the windscreen. King Street, Sandy Bay. July 2011. Today we’re stealing... The Honesty Meme ! Right now I'm feeling... tired . When I'm alone I feel... tranquil . When I'm surrounded by people I feel... irritated . One thing I hate is... wilful stupidity . One thing I really like about myself is... integrity . ...and now a word from our sponsor... Closer. King Street, Sandy Bay. July 2011. When I'm feeling sad I... [ silence ]. When I daydream it's usually about... swimming . I'm afraid of... fear . I'm happiest when... asleep . One thing that really worries me is... helplessness . If I could change one thing about myself it would be... irritability . If I could be with anyone right now I would be with... children . The family member I am closest to is... Jennifer . If I was really honest with my father I would tell him... shush . One thing I regret about my life is... drift . If I on...

A crime has been committed. De Bomford Lane turn off, East Derwent Highway, Geilston Bay. April 2011. If you think that Hobart is some serene and peaceful idyll filled with blissful and benign sprits floating around gently hugging each other, THINK AGAIN ! I couldn’t possibly comment on the perpetrators of the heinous act I’ve photographed above, but I suspect that it might have something to do with the kind of internecine war commonly found in groups like the Cripps , the Bloods , Mara Savatrucha , Sureños , the Hells Angels , the Babysittters Club and the Muppets . The local hardcore exxxtreme posse is the notorious Risdon Vale Boyz . Note the nerve-jangling utilisation of a ‘ z ’, as this flagrant disregard of the correct plural suffix indicates an exxxtreme challenge to established authority. You see, the breakdown of society begins with importer syntax and sentence construction, it continues through car theft and wilful destruction of authority, and into the kind of anarchy that ...

I’m still standing. Campbell Street, Hobart. December 2010. It seems that no matter how good some people have it, there is a drive within many (most) to complain that they don’t have it better. Give them five jellybeans, and they want eight jellybeans (or a chocolate frog). Give them a twelve percent pay rise, and they want a fifteen percent pay rise. Give them a parking spot one hundred metres from the front door, and they want the parking spot twenty metres from the door. You give them access to any scrap of information they want at the tip of their fingers, and they’re too lazy to type in the search terms. They get shown the world, and they complain that it’s not hi-res enough. They live longer, and they complain about being old. They get given entertainment, and they get bored with it. They get given more entertainment, and they get bored with it. You give them knowledge, and they’re bored with it. It’s not immediate enough, it’s not easy enough it’s not simple enough it’s all too ...

So THAT explains how Jen smashed up the back of her car (to the extent that it was written off)! He can't even reach the controls properly!

The walk home from the bus stop can sometimes be difficult. East Derwent Highway, the Lindisfarne/Geilston Bay border. August 2010. Another day, another instalment, another experiment. 81. FAVOURITE THOUGHT PROVOKING SONG: A Change is Gonna Come , Sam Cooke. 82. FAVOURITE THING TO HATE: I am not sure that I’d classify anything that I’d hate as a ‘favourite’. That said, I do hate. 83. FAVOURITE DRINK: I like orange juice. I like cola. I like proper lemonade. 84. FAVOURITE ZODIAC SIGN Huh? The virgin is good. Way better than buckets of water or tampons. 85. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SPORT? Tickling. 86. WHAT IS YOUR HAIR COLOUR? Seal brown . The Hex triplet is #321414. 87. EYE COLOUR? Taupe . That Hex triplet is #483C32 88. DO YOU WEAR GLASSES? Yes I do. If I had the money through, I’d have the laser. 89. SIBLINGS? One brother. He’s older. 90. FAVOURITE MONTH(s) This one is hard. Maybe November.

There's one thing that driving around in a Geilston Bay Community Centre car will give you: disdain for everybody else on the road .

There are always cars going up and down the East Derwent Highway. April, 2010. Today's Sunday Top Five? Top Five Nicknames For Henry If He Was A Heavyweight Boxer ! » The Hobartian Martian » The Down Under Wonder » Right Hand Hank » Hit Him Him In The Head Again Henry » Sweet Potato Pie As usual, votes/alternate suggestions over the fold!

I've found the Stanley Kowalski approach to courtship a winner. There's nothing [NOTHING] that an independent, thinking, successful and confident woman likes more than domination . Like a Subaru front wheel drive coupe; slap her around a bit, and she'll treat you right. This ad has been revisited in the spirit of International Women's Day, which took place yesterday.

I have no idea what this car is trying to say. I assume that it is some allusion to police corruption of some kind, but I don't really get it. I imagine that it is very very funny if you understand it, but I don't understand it. Another thing I don't understand is why the header on this blog is playing up. Rest assured that I am on the case and hope to have it sorted ASAP.

For Ezra, nothing makes a long car journey finer than whipping out the Ipod and whacking on an Alain de Botton podcast on Schopenhauer, his cat, and the essentially Oedipal nature of their relationship.

It's Monday, and I have taken the day off. That can only mean one thing: the Messiah is coming! I even have a sign on top of a van to prove it. That said, not even the Messiah can prevent the tardy motorist getting a parking ticket down here in Salamanca. Word on the street has it that Joseph and Mary's donkey - Nigel, I do believe was his name - was ticketed as they browsed through the ridiculous tat innovative arts and craft that you can find in the tourist district .

Believe me when I say that the following statement is not idle boastfulness or patriotic nonsense : the Hobart City Council’s Salamanca parking inspection crew are the world’s most diligent , efficient , ruthless and bloodthirsty parking inspectors in the world. Within seconds of someone's parking docket running out of time, you can be guaranteed that one of the boys and girls in [powder] blue will be there ready, willing and able to unpeel one of their little orange stickers, print out the notice of fine, and smile all the while. My favourite sight is seeing the orgasmic bliss on the face of one of the brave soldiers of justice when they manage to ticket a car already possessing a ticket. I'd expect back flips on that rare occasion when you get the treble. I'm thinking of distributing little yellow ribbons in honour of them.

Barbed wire seems to be a theme around the Battery Point area. It seems that once the middle classes decided to slum it, and they managed to shift the riff raff out, they are hell bent on keeping them out for good. Here is Shed Number Two on a grey old day. Personally, I think that razor wire would be far more effective...

Ez has very much taken to the little cars down at the Play Group. Indeed, he's already started trying to impress the chicks with the subtle use of a languid elbow draped out of the window and the kind of disinterested gaze normally associated with a young Mel Gibson. Oh, and no anti-semetic rants, thankfully.

He decided that driving with his eyes open is even better!

This is a Datsun 1600. It went by the name of the Datsun 510 in the US, where it was apparently known as the “poor man’s BMW.” I see this car every morning as I approach work. It is usually sitting on its own at the Silo’s end of Salamanca place, and I have no idea who actually owns it or why it is parked there. Even though I have no idea who it belongs to, every day I like to exercise my imagination and mentally prepare a brief back story of the owner. A guy has to have a hobby, what can I say? This other morning was a good one. On Tuesday, the owner was a ruggedly handsome Mossad agent who is deeply penetrated into a shadowy organisation that ostensibly facilitates theatre programmes for prisoners on day release, but in reality operates as a sleeper cell that recruits and trains ‘cleaners’ for splinter groups administered by rogue elements of the Palestinian Authority. He is a great dancer and his hair always smells very nice. Yesterday, the owner was an elderly gent who takes great ...