Look eye! Always look eye!

Apparently, this post is number 805, which means that this blog celebrated post number 800 without ceremony. Fair enough, I am never one to blow my own trumpet (and lord haven't I tried).

I will admit that it is quite an achievement (the blog, that is, although the ability to blow one's own trumpet surpasses it by some margin). When I started, I only had one son! Now I have two! That's double the amount of children! Amazing.

Here is the Ezmeister showcasing his excellent grasping skills. Whether it is a hoop earring, mum's knitting, a fly (with chopsticks), or an exposed nipple, you can be guaranteed that Ez will get it in one.

Just the other day, Ez and I were down the pub shootin' pool, bustin' each other's balls and whatever it is that red blooded, hot headed studs do when they're on the piss. The little bloke had just put a two dollar coin into the jukebox, selecting the Ting Tings' hit That's Not My Name, when in walks this chubby dude with a ponytail, decked out in a really, really poorly chosen outfit.

So this guy was talkin' crap, and somehow managed to get the music switched from the Ting Tings to Kid Rock's anaemic, MoR rehash mash up of all the worst bits of Warren Zevon and Lynard Skynard's mega hits. To add insult to injury, his gyrating and grinding attempt at dancing (and at impressing the busty barmaid), resulted in an intentional bump on Ez right as he was set to clean up a big pot, spilling his pint in the process.

As a man of great honour, Ez shot him a glare and demanded "satisfaction", and this fat dude starts waving his arms around like he's Ralph Macchio painting a pagoda or something. Quick as a flash (actually, he was quicker), Ez has somehow gripped both of this guy's ears, pulled them down, and tied them to the leather tassels on his faux-suede boots.

As we leave (to avoid any more of a scene), I managed to overhear one of the patrons at the bar expound in awe, "that dude with the little basketball head has only gone and whip Steven Seagal's arse!"

Just another day in the hood.

Lost inside an adorable illusion and I cannot hide, I'm the one you're using, please don't push me aside, we could've made it cruising, yeah.

Yes it is Theme Thusday again, and today we are talking GLASS . I've three possible hooks to hang my [glass] hat on with this theme. First, the photo! Yes, it is the river again from an odd angle in an interesting light. You can just make out the bottom, which should tell you that I'm right on the shore. In some ways, the distortion of the stones below the surface reminds me of ye olde glass windows, what they call "cylinder blown sheet glass". You can still find some of this around Hobart these days. Thw second link comes from a trip I took to Venice a few years back. You're probably aware that Venice was (is?) a glass-making centre of excellence. If you have ever been there and taken the tour of the glass factories, you might be familiar with the sheer amount of coloured glass that sits at the bottom of the water there. These fragments of glass have been worn down and had their edges dulled by their time in the water, which makes them ample keepsakes for the ...

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

Happy anniversary baby, got you on my mind

No it is not a webcam, but this photograph was taken a mere forty-five ago on my way in to work. Here you can see a good old fashioned Hobart autumn morning, with the rain pelting down and me getting drenched. This one was taken on the corner of Macquarie and Elizabeth, while I was waiting for the lights to change. Come on Ampelmännchen ! Today is my wedding anniversary, an apparently I need to be showering Jen with leather -related goodies. Va-va-vaVOOM! To you Jennifer, here is a poem I wrote this very morning. Anniversary I love you i love you iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou I LOVE you I love YOU iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou I LOVE YOU iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou Happy anniversary

This will hurt me...

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