Saturday, August 04, 2007

Un Vicar like behaviour

A minister of religion abused some poor young lads in our fair city. He swore at them, used personally derogatory terms and racial abuse. Just confirms what I have always thought about religious types.

But wait, I have a lot of sympathy for this bloke. The church entrance was seen as a fine place for younguns to do a bit of skateboarding. Once I heard two lads on a tram discussing the merits of said place for skateboarding.

Skateboarding in public spaces is noisy and frightens and alarms people. Melbourne has some great skateparks and it about to get another good one at St Kilda, in spite of my protestations to council. (How many teenagers live within a kilometre of Fitzroy Street?)

When the memorial to the Bali bomb victims was being built in Swanston Street, Carlton, it was clear to me that it would be a great skating surface. Sure enough, they came and did immense damage and much of the work had to be redone and then anti skating measures put in place. It was a disgraceful waste of money by the City of Melbourne. It was perfectly predictable that skateboarders would find it attractive.

While it not quite as attractive as it was, there are still big open flat paved areas, so the skateboarders still use it.

City of Melbourne tell me that it is not their policy to prosecute minors and that it is regularly patrolled by bylaws officers and the skaters are told to move on.

Well City of Melbourne, try prosecuting their parents then for the illegal activity of their children.

School holidays of course and every Saturday afternoon they are there, so I am not really sure that bylaws officers do patrol the memorial.

So I have quite a bit of sympathy for this clerical person who lost it when dealing with absolute scum. He was lucky that the physical attack he endured was not worse.

Now, what I want to do is go and slap a few of these kids who skate over the Bali bombing memorial. Don't you know that this is a memorial to dead people who were blown up in a terrorist attack? It is in your memory even.

City of Melbourne is only second behind VicRoads as a disgrace, but only just.

Friday, August 03, 2007

Post inspired by ......

What to write when I am in the mood for writing nonsense? Daisy Jo can take the blame.

Ok, here is one. I have heard this. 'All woman have a fantasy of being raped by a black man'. What mental image does that conjure? A six foot tall massively hung black American hunk having his wicked way with you? Of course in your dreams he will be assertive but not nasty, well just a little bit. Only one gentle smack across the face.

Works for me.

Thug porn is very big on the net, as is interracial and older white women with black men, so you are not alone.

What about other inappropriate types?

What about the skinny guy with long bleached hair with his ciggies tucked into the sleeve of his tee?

What about the bearded arab guy who looks at you with absolute lust, but knows he must be a good religious person.

What about the incredibly handsome Indian lad who reeks of garlic?

What about the masculine looking Asian guy? He may not be overly large downunder, but he is so handsome.

What about the Spanish/Latin guy who you know will be very quick and very passionate?

What about the young guy in the office who wears a cheap ill fitting suit, but there is something about him?

Sportsman? Forget it. He expends his energy elsewhere, unless his name is Warne, who seems to have energy enough for both.

Nerdy type with black rimmed glasses? It will be quick for him. He doesn't leave his books very often.

Celeb? You would have to praise them a lot and pander to their ego.

Junkie? Nah. So much nodding is not good for the spine and performance.

Your average Aussie bloke is perhaps not a bad choice, even if said Aussie bloke is hard to define. While they could be defined as neglectful once they have been there a few times, I think they care quite deeply......in their own way.

Whoever you end up with, you can always have your fantasies.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Religious Clarification or how to win blog mates #33

I am not sure if I have ever spelt this out clearly, although long time readers would have picked it up, but here goes.

I do not believe in religion. I actively dislike religion. Religion seems to cause much of the world's problems. Thankfully I live in one of the least religious countries in the world.

If you are religious, don't be offended. I only judge you up to a point if you are religious. I have my faults too.

I respect your right to believe in a greater being and you can respect my right to not believe. We know how it is then and we don't need to discuss it. So, if I have the occasional 'go' at religion, don't take it personally. It will usually be christians and they are used to it.

Now can someone tell me if Jehovahs are christian?

Jamie Oliver made me gag

Sort of silly double entendre that you would see from some immature blogger isn't it. No pointing please. Well I suppose I would gag for him just once, just out of curiosity and the bragging rights of course.

But what do you think when you read 'Jamie Oliver made them gag?' If you did not think as I thought, perhaps you thought he had his fingers down someone's throat or he did something so repulsive that he made them throw up?

None of the above. It was gagging them to stop them speaking.

It is a headline to attract attention and it worked in my case. But is that really what we expect of our largest selling newspaper, The Herald Sun? You can certainly expect that sort of nonsense from me, but in an important daily newspaper?

Herald Sun, the newspaper you may flick through if you find a free copy.

Confession #71

Well, Steph almost killed her brother and Rosanna nearly burnt her house down so I will 'fess up to a minor one.

We met a chappie and his boyfriend through a friend. The boyfriend was Indian born as was our friend. We saw them a few times, always in the company of our friend. Our friend referred to the boyfriend as Bomba in his absence. I understand this is perhaps a racist term for someone of dark skin. I did not know this at the time and assumed it was his name.

So when we saw the chappie in the street one day, him not with his boyfriend and us not with our friend, I innocently asked, 'So, how is Bomba?'

'Who', the chappie asked? 'Your boyfriend, Bomba', I said feeling that somehow this is going way wrong.

'His name is Kevin', and I could see on face that he was displeased.

Oddly, we have never seen the chappie and Kevin since.

Haven't seen our friend either, because I murdered him.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

CDEP


A couple of years ago we were at the township of Adelaide River in the Northern Territory of Australia. It had been an early start and we were there for breakfast and we then went onto the war cemetery where many who died during the Japanese bombing of northern Australia are buried. It is very beautiful.

What are these black fellah lads doing hanging around. I was a little nervous sitting near them initially, but then I overheard their ever so normal conversation and I then wondered what they were doing gathered there so early in the morning.

A van then arrived and carted them off to what I now guess to be CDEP jobs.

These jobs are totally manufactured for the purpose of giving some meaning and and interest and a paid job to black fellahs and fellahesses.

The CDEP job scheme has been around for many years but it is now to be removed and the black fellahs will go onto work for the dole (unemployment benefits) and job training schemes. Well, there really aren't a lot of job in these areas, in fact very few. The Federal government is doing this so that if the black fellahs don't look after their children properly, they can take away some of their money and substitute it for food vouchers or similar.

The lads I saw did not look hungover. They did not look like wife beaters or child abusers. Their job has now disappeared I suppose and they will be on the dole.

Is this really such a good idea?

Best dash. There is an ant in my bathroom, so I am getting it fumigated.

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Wired Bus

After a fine and ever so cheap meal at The Pub at the Casino Crown Entertainment Complex, we caught a bus home. Walking one way is quite enough.

The bus had these odd looking electrical junction boxes fitted near the doors. They were of the type where an electrical wire is blanked off. It took a minute to work out that they must to be with out new public transport ticketing system, MyKi or whatever it is.

I tried a week or so ago to have a look at the new ticket system at Southern Cross Station, but there was some filming happening in the information centre, so I was not welcome.

I don't have much confidence in the new system, however, I will hold my judgement until it is in action. It very well may mean that R saves a lot of money if he only has to pay for the two sections he travels from Prahran to home or City to home and does not have to pay for a two hour ticket for a single ten minute journey. He usually walks one way and catches public transport home.

While you can ride around for three hours on a two hour ticket if you time it correctly, it is outrageous that he has to pay over three dollars for a ten minute trip. Worse if he times it badly and two ten minute trips cost him over six dollars. I actively encourage him to evade in these situations but he is too honest and instead just fumes at the public transport ticket system.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Sleeping soundly

We visited the new niece yesterday. She is gorgeous as ever, but she sleeps.

The bone doctor girlfriend handed her to me. I recalled which way was up and that the head needs support. After five minutes of prodding, talking to her and stroking her, I handed her over to R. She slept on.

R nursed her for nearly two hours. The conversation was loud and full on. The little one slept on.

We took her outside. I pointed out a magpie to her. Still she slept on. A young buck made a screech with his car tyres. She slept on.

We introduced her to Mexican hat dance music, via a rattle. She slept on.

Ah, I proclaimed as we about to leave. I have not seen her eyes yet. The bone doctor prised one open but it closed straight away as she slept on.

I am now a bit cynical about my sister's tale of sleep deprivation and averaging four hours sleep a night.

Had we had a baby seat in the car, I think we may have kidnapped her.

He loves me

A couple of Saturdays ago we had some coffee in one of my favourite places, the outdoor cafe opposite Melbourne Town Hall. Our coffee arrived at our table and so did the coffee arrive to the people sitting near us. I distractedly glances at our lattes and noticed they had a pretty pattern drawn on them with the froth, a very silky froth as they usually are there.

That's nice I thought. I glanced at the coffee of the people sitting near us and theirs had no pattern. What is going on here?

You stupid vacant old queen, said R. The guy who is making them is gay. I looked and while it was not obvious when he was behind the counter, I could see there was some gayness about him as he moved around.

I was again there for coffee four days later but on my own. The same guy served me and this time I got a heart on top of my coffee. I could also tell he put a tiny pinch of love in the brew. What a sweetie.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

WW2 find


Now I was about to write this post and when checking a detail I realised that I am no longer sure of which property I am referring to.

It could either All Saints Anglican Church or St George's Uniting Church. Both are close to each other in Chapel Street, East St Kilda. Nearby is an army depot, closer the St Georges, so perhaps that is the one I am referring to.

The Brighton Antique Dealer's toyboy has an interest in WW I and WW2 memorabilia and so this last week had a call from a roof tiler chappie. He was doing some work on the slates on one of the above mentioned churches and in the roof space he discovered a very old telephone with a winding handle and it was connected to a wire that headed up into a tower. He followed the wire to another telephone he found up at the top of the church tower. The toyboy now believes the tower was used to spot enemy planes and the phones were communication to someone down in the roof space. I don't believe and Japanese planes came anywhere near Melbourne during the second WW, so it must have been a boring job.

The theory sounds quite plausible, given the location of an army depot nearby. Further investigations are underway.

Further investigation indicates to me that it was St George Uniting Church, pictured left, courtesy St Kilda Historical Society.

La Mome


That is what the movie is called in France, but obviously the translated The Kid is too obscure for us and US and so we get the title La Vie En Rose.

We saw a stage play in the eighties called Piaf and it starred a wonderful Jeannie Lewis. I bought the Piaf vinyl and a Piaf biography a bit later.

Like many very talented people, she had her demons and insecurities. That she came from the gutters of Paris cannot be forgotten.

I can highly recommend La Vie En Rose with the proviso that it can be a little hard to keep up with the characters. It is worth seeing just to perve on already married lover, played by the hunk Jean-Pierre Martins. I had not heard of him and I have found it difficult to find a decent pic of him. This one is a movie still, courtesy of moviereporter.net