This will hurt me...

Three sharks? Four sharks? SEVEN sharks?!?!

Keep on truckin'!

Can you believe that Jen lost to these two jokers?

Run Henry, RUN! Anzac Park, Lindisfarne. December 2012. As you know, the Internet is a wonderful place filled with the rich and varied treasures of the world holds (and dogs dressed as Father Christmas.) The following are some things that I've had a look at in the last week. I call this: a Compendium of Click-throughs for Monday Morning... For hundreds of years, Hell has been the most fearful place in the human imagination. It is also the most absurd... xkcd nails the Instagram furore... This flat out amazes me. Jerry Seinfeld Intends to Die Standing Up. Ezra's favourite link of the week. A time to stop giving? United Noshes is a project to cook one feast from every UN member . Yum. 8 Nostalgia - it's not like it used to be. 20 Astounding Gun Ads . Ahem.

Henry doesn't even know who Bob Beamon is...

In the spirit of multiple photographs, have another two...

Table Soccer II. Henry Fights Back!

Ezra crosses codes and demonstrates that the might of the Essendon Football Club is felt even in the wild and woolly field of table soccer !

I'm betting on the angry little guy.

Despite her size and potential power, Henry has Jen well and truly done for sheer scooter speed...

Without one of those track dolly thingamajigs, I had to rely on good old fashioned feet running running running to get the shot...

Henry likes to climb. He might not have nerves of steel, but he is as limber as a mountain goat. I'm encouraging him to climb up sea cliffs, with the instruction to avoid crashing into the rocks if he falls. We have a one-hundred percent success rate thus far.

Plenty of grass and bowls. No sign of Francis Drake. Sandy Bay Bowls Club, Sandy Bay. July 2011. I used to bowl here, some time ago. The team was called " Meat and One Veg ". My darling [now] wife Jennifer was the " Veg " in that combo. Close up of the seagull. Sandy Bay Bowls Club, Sandy Bay. July 2011. I shall speak no more on that topic. Fini .

Get it Henry! Get it!

More bloody boats. Racing off Tranmere, as seen from Sandy Bay. December 2010. Every summer in Hobart means boats, more boats, and MORE bloody boats. Honestly, we have boats coming out of our ears. There are too many boats and not enough sharks. I have long been an advocate of a Bill of Rights for Great White Sharks, including enshrining the right of one (1) boat – plus crew – per shark, per month. This way, we could keep a check on this rapidly growing boat population, and improve the quality of life of our besieged Great White communities. Honestly, the way that people carry on when one has a simple nibble out of a surfboard, you can imagine what would happen if one did the full Quint to one of these airy fairy, lardy dardy, goody goody, namby pamby, hoity toity, wishy washy, not in my backyard, chardonnay-sipping, doing nothin' do gooders. They would be calling the WAAAAAAH-mbulence quick smart and we would then have a violent and conceited revenge fantasy on our hands. It is ...

Blogs are everywhere. Campbell Street, Hobart CBD, October 2010. Theme Thursday yet again and this week I wanted to talk about the current touch football season. Now, I could bore you with vivid descriptions of our SOMNOLENT defensive line (or lack thereof), but I wouldn’t want to bore you with clichés . I could talk to you about the myriad of injuries incurred in what is supposed to be a non-contact sport – game one = sore shoulder, game two = bruised thigh, game three = jarred knee – but I won’t. I won’t lie to you: we’re struggling . Zero and three three rounds in, we remain [mathematically] still in contention for the finals. We’re taking it one week at a time . There is no point getting ahead of ourselves , but (like the boy with the barrow), there is a big job in front of us . The reality is that we have had a number of injuries to senior players (my long list, a broken finger, back spasms, bruised egos), but we are looking at it as a chance for the kids to step up . Despite th...

Everybody goin' surfin', surfin' C.L.I.F.T.O.N. B.E.A.C.H. Clifton Beach, September 2010. If it stops raining in the next week, we might make our way to the beach again.

Early morning boat race. Sullivans Cove, June 2010. Today's Sunday Top Five? How about my Top Five Australian Prime Ministers ! Try and guess the theme... John Curtin [ALP, 7 October 1941 – 5 July 1945] Bob Hawke [ALP, 11 March 1983 – 20 December 1991] Ben Chifley [ALP, 13 July 1945 – 19 December 1949] Andrew Fisher [ALP, 13 November 1908 – 2 June 1909; 29 April 1910 – 24 June 1913; 17 September 1914 – 27 October 1915] Chris Watson [ALP, 27 April – 18 August 1904] Who's winning? The one on the left? Right? Middle? June 2010. I'm pretty sure that boat in the middle is being steered by Andrew Peacock! Unleash the spinnaker! (Is that legal?) June 2010. Look! It's Bill Hayden!

Ez and I have been practising some tackling drills. Like the best, we do it on the concrete, as it 'encourages' him to keep on his feet during the moment of body contact.

Thursday morning, seven hundred hours. The job is at hand: hop in the kayak, nip down to the Antarctic, a spell on the Wurlitzer, harass some randy Great Whites, brave the huge swells of the Southern Ocean, nibble on some blubber, chuck some rocks at the penguins, string up a couple of tennis racquets, sing a couple of show tunes, evade some icebergs, ponder the fate of Schrödinger's cat, zig-zag through the squalls, step aside for a quick shandy, head back up the Derwent, and in to work! Are you up for it, or are you YELLOW? Theme Thursday . Like Theme Tuesday, only on Thursday.