Latham Watch - bizarre behaviour noted!

Spotted Sunday afternoon at a certain gym in Campbelltown(just near a certain Hungry Jacks) was the one and only Marky Mark Latham. During the whole time I was there, there were no tantrums, nobody was assaulted and not one camera was smashed.

Bizarre behaviour indeed!


The bastard is up to something for sure.

Australia Day

For the second year running we had the pleasure of spending Australia Day with a great bunch of folks over at the Patto's place. Shane & Jill put on a brilliant day, keeping us all entertained with a load of activities and sporting events as well as a great feed and a few(?) quiet ales.

Jake likes to drive the tractor.

The first activity was drinking beer, or softdrink for the kiddies, from a babies cup. Last year it was from a babies bottle but some cheating bastards bit big holes in the teats.

Jill scrutineering the skulling comp.



It's not a real Australia Day party unless it includes a bloke named Norm who drinks VB!

Australia Day isn't all sport y'know. We Aussies also like to exercise the brain sometimes too so a trivia competition was organised.

The trivia comp in full swing. Who was Australias 3rd Prime Minister anyway?


Of course it wouldn't be an authentic Aussie Day without a cricket match. Shane the curator went to a massive amount of effort in slashing preparing the pitch. Notice the nice boundary line made from the cut grass? Bloody top job.


And it wouldn't be an authentic cricket match without a streaker and a dog to interrupt play.



Jake likes to drive the tractor.


Life isn't all sport and trivia you know, sometimes you gotta take a few minutes out to shovel sausage sandwiches into your face.

Shane hard at work char grilling bits of ground up dead animal on the barbie. Just the way I like it!

After lunch it was straight back into the sporting activities. First cab off the rank was gumboot throwing. The Welsh contingent were strong all day leading to suspicions that they may have even trained on some of the events.

Clive showing the style that gave him the gumboot throwing title.


Jake likes to drive the tractor.

My favourite sporting activity was the "Aussie Race" in which you had to pull on a pair of boxer shorts & thongs then run to a tube of zinc cream, apply some to your nose, run to the next station where you had to apply tomato sauce to a pie and eat it before running to the final stop to skull some GI lime cordial. Tops!


The first heat begins.


Hows this for concentration folks? He managed to do the whole race without putting his iceblock down. An obvious star of the future here.


Kieran, the eventual winner, showing his style.


Yes Lee, you CAN look stylish with zinc all over your face!


Jake also likes to ride in the trailer.

Well, that's about it for Australia Day 2006. What a day! Thanks once again to our gracious hosts, Shane & Jill, and to all those who turned up and participated. I can't wait for next year.

Jake and Bree saying "bye-bye".

Chinese New Year with Neds Atomic Dustbin

I saw on the tele this morning that preparations are under way for our Chinese community to celebrate their New Year. It brought to mind a tour I did around this time of year back in the early 1990's. It was a short run with a British band by the name of Neds Atomic Dustbin.



They were quite a whacky bunch of dudes who seemed to take themselves far too seriously but overall they were alright. They are probably the only band I've ever seen with two bass players. That's right folks...two!

This was what was known as a "Yo-Yo" tour. It went Sydney, Brisbane, Melbourne & back to Sydney. For those outside Australia this means doing a gig, travelling North for about 1000k's then going south for about 1800k's then going back north for about 800k's. Tops! Luckily time didn't permit us to do the Brisbane gig & so they flew up we drove to Melbourne. Our lighting rigger had some stuff to take care of so he decided to fly down and meet us in Melbourne. My brother and I arrived in Melbourne at about 4am after an uneventful drive down. The plan was to arrive early, get a decent sleep, do the gig, then have another decent sleep before casually driving back to Sydney for the last gig. Sometimes things don't go to plan but eh?

Upon arrival at the hotel we found the lighting rigger asleep in the foyer with his baggage. Not a good sign. We woke him and he told us that the tour manager hadn't paid the deposits for the room and they weren't going to let us in until someone paid up. Shit! We scrounged around between us and managed to come up with just enough cash for the guy to let us in with nothing to spare but $5, literally. He then gives us a message from the tour manager that one of the band has decided to drink his own weight in alcohol and has been taken to hospital. The gig has been pushed back to the following day so we can have a day off. Great! Here we are in a strange town with absolutely no money and we have a day and a half to kill. This wasn't going well at all.

By the time we hit our room it was about 6am so we did what you always do after driving for 10 hours and getting stuffed around, we hit the mini bar. Hard! We completely cleaned the thing out. By this time it was about 9am and we decided sleep would be a good idea. Not 3 minutes after my head hit the pillow I heard this strange noise start up from the street below. It grew in intensity until becoming very loud and seemed to be getting closer. The three of us looked at each other in amazment and went to the window to find an incredible scene below. It was the start of the Chinese New Year Parade. and it was right outside our window. They had drums and gongs and cymbals and dragons and fireworks and bloody everything. All going at once. It was just bedlam. Welcome to Melbourne folks!



I reckon I was just about ready to start throwing stuff out the window at that point. Instead we just gave up and went back to bed. I think I even went back to sleep at one point. We eventually caught up with the tour manager, the inimitable Howard Freeman, later that day to get some cash off him so we could eat.


The amazing Howard Freeman or HoWEIRD as he was known. Image from CX Magazine.

The gig went off okay the next day but we now had to pack up and drive straight back to Sydney after the gig. Overnighters were the pits. You'd think not much more could go wrong on such a short run wouldn't you? Not so. About halfway into our 10 hour drive, the truck decided to overheat every time we went over about 70kph. That made for a bloody slow trip folks. We arrived late but still with enough time to set up & do the gig. Just!

Man I was glad to shut the back of the truck and wave goodbye to that tour.

Cross posted at Gibbos War Stories

Testing Picassa

Hi folks. Just fiddling with my new camera and spotted an option in Picassa to send and image direct to my blog. So, here it is. Gibbo's youngest daughter holding one of my Christmas pressies. Meet Ellie-May the wondercat folks. Cute as a button eh? 

Merry Bloody Christmas!

Well, it's that time of year again when us public servants all wind down & take a little time off. I can't wait for the knock off bell actually!

In the spirit of the season I would like to leave you all with the following message (an oldy but a goody):

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice( with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others or their choice not to practice such traditions at all).

* Furthermore, I offer my (non-binding) best wishes for the onset of the generally accepted calendar year of 2006, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions have helped make Australia great. (Which is not to imply that Australia is greater than any other country.) These wishes are offered without regard to the race, creed, colour, age, physical ability, choice of computer platform or sexual preference of the wishee.

* This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal. It implies no others, is void where prohibited by law and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher. This wish expires within one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first.


Have a great Christmas folks and we will see you all here bright and early in 2006.

Love and kisses, Gibbo.

Repost: Racism for dummies.

I wrote this last year around this time but it seems as relevant as ever these days. here it is again for your singing and dancing pleasure...


There has been great discussion recently regarding the topic of racism and, as Australians, our supposed predisposition toward it. It is a topic that is simply too complex to discuss back and forth in the comments section of someone’s blog, so I thought I would take a few moments to put my thoughts down in some sort of order.
To give you some context, I would like to explain a little about myself and my background. I am a fifth generation Australian (as far as I have traced so far), of basically British origins. I was born in 1962 and raised in Sydney’s Western Suburbs. Cabramatta, to be precise. That makes me a white male, 42years old and a westie. Prime racist material eh?
Cabramatta was then, and is now, a melting pot of many different races. We had wads of post-war immigrants of many different nationalities. I lived in a short cul-de-sac that had the migrant hostel at the bottom. The makeup of our street was roughly this: On our side it went Scottish, Russian, Italian, Aussies, Latvians, Serbs, Italians, Italians and Croatians. The other side went Italians, Italians, Italians, Serbs, Italians, Various, Aussies, Aussies, Ukrainians, Scots, Macedonians, and this was just my street. As you know, we then had a large influx of Asian refugees starting in the 70’s. In short, if you were racist, you didn’t have any friends. This community was remarkably harmonious. People just plain got along. Sure, there were people you didn’t like but it was usually something more substantial than their racial background. I will have more to say in a future post about why I think that this community was as successful as it was, but it serves to show you some of my background and why I get so upset when people say I am a racist because I am a white male or because I vote for John Howard. It is simply not true. It is a concept that I reject out of hand. This is not to say that Australians are not racist or that I have never been a racist. I am simply stating that we are no more racist than anyone else. I believe that all races use this “evil power” whenever it suits them.
It is not something that white people do to brown people. It is not something Aussies do to wogs. It is something people do to each other.

Let me explain it like this:
I support Parramatta in the football. I go along to games or watch ‘em on the TV and I get all worked up. When my team plays your team, I don’t like your team. Say we are playing against Newcastle, then that Andrew Johns is a mongrel bastard who must be stopped at all costs. Phoooey on him. Kick him in the nuts, pull his hair, whatever. Just beat them. But… when State of Origin time comes around, Andrew Johns no longer is a mongrel bastard who plays for Newcastle. He’s the bloody captain of NSW and a top bloke. Skillful, wiley, just a brilliant player. Great to see my man Nathan Hindmarsh in the same team as the great Andrew Johns. On the other hand, that Shane Webke is a prick eh? Bloody fridge on legs. I don’t like him at all! Smash him boys!!! Bloody Queenslander.
But… when the Aussie team gets picked to go and wallop the Poms, that bloody Webke. Top bloke! Never stops trying. Proud to have him in the side. Go Shane, smash those Poms.

That, my friends is exactly how racism works. It is all about the current perspective and what suits you at the time.
When it suits we are citizens of the world.
When it suits we are Aussies.
When it suits we are part of Asia.
When it suits we are of British descent.
When it suits we are ANZACS
When it suits we are a multicultural paradise.

I have never met a specific race or culture who is not capable of pulling out the race card whenever it suits. The problem is that it stifles genuine debate and the possibility of actually fixing some of our countries serious problems. If you shout down every argument that is not yours as racist, then you are not helping. Some examples of “Aussies inherent racism” were given to me at Darps’ blog today. One fellow said that he had never seen an Aboriginal married to a white person in Australia so therefore we must all be racist. Mate, I lived next door to an Aboriginal chap and his white wife for many years. It is not as uncommon as you think. Another person said that by my treating all races as equal, I was being ethnocentric and therefore was a racist. What the fuck? One person even said that I must be a racist because voted for “the right”. Just what we need mate, sensible debate.
I know it has become fashionable in some circles to be a self flagellator but don’t include me in your guilt trip. The we had the call for an "indigenous" blogger to come in and tell us once more how racist we are because only black people know. IE Black person says white person is racist. Ipso facto... white peole are racist. QED.
While we are talking about Aboriginals. Don’t think that they aren’t as bad as anyone else at this stuff. Many of the tribes are openly hostile to each other for no more reason than their “race” IE My tribe is better than yours. I have personally witnessed the unbelievable amount of diplomacy it takes to get some of these people to just be in the same room as each other, let along carry out a meaningful dialog. This is not a put-down. This just proves they are human like the rest of us. By segregating them into a sub-group of our society that is treated inherently different is racist beyond belief as just does not help. If every problem is looked at through the lens of “it must be whitey’s fault”, then you are missing many opportunities to fix things.
If someone in this country is living in sub-human conditions due to genuine neglect then that is a tragedy and should be fixed. The problem is not a worse one because the victim is black. When you are constantly told that your circumstances are not your fault, then life becomes easy. Any problem you have must be caused by someone else’s actions. Therefore, it is not your responsibility to fix. It might even surprise you to learn that not Aboriginals live under a piece of corrugated tin in Bumfuqnowhere. Not all of them are drug addled fuckwits from Redfern. The vast majority of them lead happy, fulfilled, quiet lives in suburbia, far from the hue and cry of the racist politics of the left. They even marry white folks sometimes Davo! By categorizing them as all being disadvantaged because they are black is racist in the extreme.

I’ll say it one more time for the dummies. It is not something that white people do to brown people. It is not something Aussies do to wogs. It is something people do to each other. If you think that it is an Aussie thing then you simply don’t mix with a wide enough group of people. Go out and make friends with some wogs. Most of them are nice people, just like everyone else. Most of them are capable of being racist pigs when it suits, just like everyone else. You might even enjoy the food. Better than chops, peas and potatoes anyday.

Jeff Lang

I had the pleasure on Saturday night of going to see the amazing Jeff Lang at the Brass Monkey in Cronulla. What a great show. In my experience it's not often that a single person with an acoustic guitar can be entertaining for more than about 10 minutes but Jeff is one of the exceptions.


Read the rest at GibbosWarStories.com

Engrish

Hi folks, I'm back from holidays and feelin' fine.

Don't tell anyone, but I was reading the instructions of a network cable tester this morning when I found the following:

"ATTENTION.
Please be sure battery enough, battery voltage lower, indicator lamp will not clear, flash or doesn't bright and influence test result."

and

"WARNING.
Prohibit will tester connect to with electron wire on.otherwise when high voltage will damage tester."

and finishing with...

"Any renew or improve of the products will not be adviced."

I didn't know Margo worked in translating instructions.

All aboard the band wagon. First stop Peanutville.

There was a great comment the other day on Andrew Bartletts blog that, for me, sums up the stupidity and the hatred of todays lefties. Andrew has been on a trip overseas which included Turkey. He wrote a nice little story about Gallipoli in which he included the famous words of Ataturk regarding Australian soldiers still lying, buried, at Gallipoli:

"you, the mothers, who sent their sons from faraway countries, wipe away your tears; your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land, they have become our sons as well."

Nice words eh? I've got to admit they are quite moving really. Then in the comments we get quickly slapped back to the reality of a leftist blog. Some barking moonbat says:

"Can't help but think of the difference in attitude between Ataturk and our PM: Ataturk welcomed into the 'bosom' of Turkey the thousands of men who arrived in boats to kill his countrymen and capture their land ..."

I nearly snorted coffee out my nose.

I can see the scene now. ANZACS arriving in their boats with Ataturk standing at the top of the cove with a beer in one hand and the BBQ tongs in the other calling "Welcome mates, grab a coldie on your way up the hill". NOT.

No matter what the story, somehow to the leftist peanut brains, it is always a demonstration of the inherrent evil of Little Johnny Ratus hoWARd.

I'll explain it for you. The people he welcomed into the bosom of Turkey were THE DEAD ONES HE HAD SHOT THE SHIT OUT OF.

Fucking idiots!

Where do I collect my Ten Grand?

Have a go at this.

Some plonker gets turpsed at work to the point of pissing in his bin, and somehow his employer has to cough up $10,000 for sacking him? What the?

I've never admitted this before folks, but, once I did the same thing. Now I want my money.

It was 1993 and I was touring with blues legend Albert Collins.

The master of the telecaster, Albert Collins.

The last night of the tour was at Balmain RSL and was huge. We couldn't load out that night & that usually means hitting the turps in a big way. Well, I must admit to having one or two refreshing ales that night and ended up back at the hotel quite maggoted. In a startling replay of that famous "one day you're gunna get caught with your pants down" advertisement, I got up in the middle of the night for a slash. To say I was still under the influence and slightly dissoriented would be an understatment. I managed to open the wrong door and locked myself out of the room, drunk as a skunk, busting for a piss and only dressed in my undies. I tried banging on the door to wake up my youngest brother who I was sharing the room with, but to no avail so off I staggered along the hall looking for a toilet. No toilets anywhere but what about this convenient bin? It was probably the longest piss of my life. I think I went close to filling it.
Now I had to try and get back into my room as being found asleep in the hallway next to a bin full of piss would not be good. I knocked and banged continuously for about 5 minutes when I managed to wake my other brother in the next room. "What the fuck are you doing?" he yelled.
"7$!@$&nhq8&%@)!!" I replied as I collapsed onto the spare bed.

The loadout the next morning was a very slow one indeed.

Cross posted at Gibbos War Stories

Shove your oil up your bum Mr OPEC

Ever the greenie(practical greenie not political greenie that is), Gibbo has just invested in a new mode of transport destined to leave Mr Opec and his highly priced consumables behind.

Behold...the electric pushbike!


Yes I've strapped a motor onto the old pushy to help drag my fat guts up some of the bigger hills between work & my place and it's tops. The only oil it uses is a few drops on the chain too. She's a beauty eh?
I built a vegie garden on the weekend too. Shit, next I'll be wearing Che T-Shirts!

Roadtrip whoohooo!

I went to Bathurst races on the weekend for the first time ever. I tell you what, I'll be back. We had a ball.
We left after work on Friday night & had a nice, uneventful trip up the mountains. A couple of hours later we were in the Knickerbocker Hotel, Bathurst drinking beer and bopping to the band. For some bizzare reason they shut far too early and kicked us all out. No worries, we just headed to the track. First stop was the main straight for a couple of piccies.

Pete & Brian at the finish line.

The next problem was finding somewhere dry to sleep. A tarp, two fold up chairs and three golf umbrellas later, viola! Lets drink bourbon.

The Bathurst Hilton.

After a very brief pause for sleep we headed off to claim a spot.

Brian & Pete trying to look sober.

We ended up with a top spot right at the first corner so we could see most of the main straight and up mountain straight. Lucky we got there early though, the joint packs out that's for sure.

Brian & Pete not bothering to try and look sober.

The crowd has apparently become much more "family friendly" in recent years which was easy to see by the many kids running around. Some of the old die-hards still persist in upholding certain cultural traditions such as drinking until you fall over.

These guys were classics. I don't know if they saw much of the official proceedings but they seemed to be having fun. They lost numerous beers by falling asleep & letting them roll down the hill to the awaiting piss-tanks at the bottom of the hill.

At various stages of the day we even saw racing cars!

The eventual winner. Yeehah!

There were also plenty of other things to look at during the slow bits(of which there were plenty - damn rain!)

The blonde chick was an intruder in Big Brother this year. She has obviously done very well for herself since - not!

The afternoon was spent wandering around the various merchandise stands in a drunken blur which was punctuated by the awesome sound of Victor Bray and some other dude in a ute doing the most amazing burn-outs. Tops!

God-damn this thing was loud.


Almost enough cubic inches to fill Bob Browns cavity.

Mate...what a day. Next year I'm staying for the races.

Grand Final Predictions

Continuing along on my amazingly accurate footy predictions this year I would like to announce my tip for this weekends Grand Final(using the Sheil each way bet method).

My Heart says Cowboys...

My Head says Tigers.

There you go folks. Using the Sheil method means that you can't lose, or win, or something. Tops!

Remember you heard it here first.

Hey Brogden, pass me the stapler.

I stand before you today as a mere shell of the man I was yesterday morning. Life seems pointless. Everything is black and murky.

Oh the humanity!!!!

Parramatta choked again. Aaaaaaggggggghhhhhhh!

Pass me the stapler John, I'm in self harming mode. I may even eat paste and run with scissors!

Latham, you are an inspiration!

My 16 year old son, Gibbo Jnr, came home with an interesting story the other day. Him and his mates were down at the Group 6 League grand finals last weekend when they ran into... well, I'll let Gibbo Jnr tell you in his own inimitable style.

Twas an early Sunday afternoon, there was much excitment at the football game that myself and many of my associates were attending. In our excitment three of my associates and myself decided it would be a great idea to take the medium sized walk to the nearest Subway complex. Upon arrival no one had noticed a certain man and his son using one of the designated sitting and eating areas "tables and seats" if you will. So my friend and I ordered our desired food and beverages and sat down in one of the corners with my other two associates. So as I was enjoying my Cookie and beverage of the soda variety, one of my associates noticed the man sitting at the table. He appeared to resemble Mark Latham, our ex leader of the opposition, but no one could be sure, and no one was game enough to ask. He must have heard our murmurs because as he left, he approached me with his child, and proclaimed "If i'm Mark Latham, you're Freddy Fuckwit!"
Dumbfounded through my disbelief of what I had just heard, partly because it was who I believed was the ex leader of the opposition, and partly because he had his toddler with him, that all I could think to say was "O.k, see ya Mark."
Our group proceeded to laugh our heads off for about 20 minutes, the shock was unbelievable and we continued to relive the moment over and over.
Now we weren't sure if it was really Mark Latham, but I did some research, and have come to the conclusion that it was. Who would have thought that the one thing that I had a problem with would provide me with the evidence I sorely needed. His child. He had fiery Red hair, so naturally I looked on the internet for pictures of him and his family. It took less than 2 minutes, and I had the evidence I needed. A picture was found, with him and his two red headed children, COMPELLING EVIDENCE???, I think so!
So really all I have to say is thankyou. Thankyou Mr Latham, these wise, encouraging, reassuring words have givin me a new lease on life. It is clear to me now that if an absolute idiot such as yourself can become leader of the opposition, then I can become successful in anything I strive to achieve. Nothing can stop me now that I have the encouragement of possibly one of the biggest bogans driving me. I say bogan, because Mr Latham was dressed in the most profound manner. A daggy, 10 odd year old shirt, a pair of stubbie shorts and a pair of colarado shoes, with no socks. I would have thought that being in one of the most influencial positions would have provided him with some funds. But this brings me to my next point. This boganism leads me to believe that you probably spend all of your money fixing the vandalism attacks that occur on your house and possesions. You know why that is Mr Latham? Because no one likes you, and most of us, well the ones that don't see you in Subway, have forgotten about you. I believe this is probably why you were so angry and harsh that Sunday afternoon. Hey I don't blame you, I'd be a bit sour too, if the whole nation hated me.
So in conclusion, thankyou Mr Latham, you are an inspiration to all of us, who are even slightly better than you(everyone). In the end, you were Mark Latham, so I guess I am Freddy Fuckwit!
Peace Out, Gibbo(FF)

Compared to women, blokes are lazy no-good layabouts.

From the keyboard of guest writer, Sticko

WE'VE opened a stall at Balmain Markets on Saturdays and, I hafta tell ya, it's fun. Fun, that is, if your definition of a good time is ooh-aahing out of a warm bed at half-past-five in the freezing cold, and filling your frost-dusted car with stock, stand, signage and sustenance.

We've been getting on really well with our market "neighbours", Antony and Rachel, who sell Aloe Mist, aloe vera products which are great for the skin. Their moisturiser, for example, can turn warthog into wonderful in a matter of days. Or a few short decades, in my case.
Antony's something of a gentle new-age guy, a fella who genuinely tries to see things
from perspectives other than his own. That's probably why he showed me the results of a recent study which show that, compared to women, blokes are lazy no-good layabouts. At first glance that might not seem too complimentary, and it was obviously troubling
Antony. But on closer inspection, it's clear that the study is skewed to favour the fairer sex.

How come nobody runs surveys asking the kind of questions in which men are able to show their stronger traits? Queries like:
1. In an emergency, could you open a stubbie with your teeth?
2. On average, how long do you spend each week craning your neck to see how much cellulite there is on your thighs?
3. Are you emotionally mature enough to make a meaningful, life-long commitment to a favourite pair of reggies? or
4. If someone is concentrating intently on, say, the football on the telly, and you're wondering if his lack of chit-chat is because he is cranky about something so you ask what's wrong, and he fails to answer because he is wondering why the Tigers kicked on the second tackle, do you accept this perfectly reasonable silence or do you blow a fuse and start to HENPECK HIM UNTIL HE HAS TO HIDE IN THE BACK SHED?

But do we ever see these types of questions on surveys? No. Just questions like the ones asked in the survey Antony showed me, from the Department of Labor and Industry. It petitioned 13,000 Aussies to find out how they spend their time when they're not working. It revealed that womenfolk spend twice as much time as menfolk on looking after the kids and doing household chores, while men dedicate more time to sport and leisure. This is clearly quite misleading.
Take the concept of "housework". Sure, women spend more TIME on it. But hey, what are they really accomplishing when you break it all down? Spending hours scooping up a three-year-old's toys and putting them back into the toy box is clearly WORKING, but not what we blokes describe as "working smart".

We are savvy enough to realise that all these toys will soon be back scattered all over the place again, and we wisely leave the toy-picking-up until a more sensible time, say when the child has left home to study at university. But does the Department of Labor and Industry give us credit for this? No bloody way.
And let's talk about child care vs leisure. For women, these are two separate activities, but men have perfected a productivity-enhancing technique called "multi-tasking."
Say a man is supposed to watch a child, but he also wants to watch the footy. Thanks to "multi-tasking", this man can keep one eye on the football game, while at the same time keeping the other eye also on the football game. But in some remote lobe of his brain there's a vague awareness that there is a child around somewhere, and if he hears anything suspicious - a siren, say, or an explosion - he will respond immediately, unless of course it is the last tackle and Benji Marshall has broken into the clear.

Speaking of which: I was once at an Easter gathering where there was a backyard touch football game involving all the guys except one - I will call him "Fred" - who was watching us while holding his little daughter. My team was short one player, so we looked over at "Fred" (who has a superb sidestep) and, after making us swear we would never tell his wife, he very carefully set his daughter down on the lawn and joined the game. Seconds later Nick - whoops, I mean "Fred" - scored a try in the corner to win the game.

This never would have happened if we had allowed ourselves to be shackled by the rigid, inflexible definitions of "leisure" and "child care" which have for so long enslaved women and the blinkered "Department of Labor and Industry."

Now this is not to say I believe all men are perfect. Not at all. To be honest, some areas of domestic life have scope for blokes to show more sensitivity toward, and recognition of, the imbalance between them and women, and I intend to take steps to close that gap. However, before we embark on that journey, I have an urgent question for Antony:

"Why did they kick on the second tackle?"

Minor Premiers.

How good are those Eels going? We have slipped in under the radar to clain the Minor Premiership.
I thought this might be an opportune moment to reflect of my "predictions" from the beginning of the year. I used a new system this year. One shown to me by the amazing Chris Sheil who, using this system, is never wrong.
There is still the finals series to go but so far I am doing well. Lets check the top eight alongside my earlier predictions:
1. Parramatta. "I am going to endorse them for the 2005 premiership"
2. Dragons. "I subscribe that St George will come out on top."
3. Broncos. "I envision that Brisbane have a good chance of winning."
4. Tigers. "I prescribe that the Tigers can't lose."
5. Cowboys. "I presume that The Cowboys could win."
6. Storm. "I advocate that Melbourne are unbeatable."
7. Sharks. "I acknowledge that Cronulla may well win."
8. Manly. "I recommend Manly as a shoe in for the title."

Not a bad result eh? Using Chris' patented method of betting on every horse in the field then dismissing the losers as only "endorsements" or "recommendations" when you really "predicted" something else means you really can't lose.

Thanks Chris.

John Mayall and The Bluesbreakers.

Saturday 25th October 1986. Do you remember where you were that day? I can tell you where I was. Selina's at the Coogee Bay Hotel. What a night!

I was working for Bandanna and we had gotten a gig that we were all rapt about. Supporting John Mayall & The Bluesbreakers as well as Aussie blues legends, Chain. This was a big gig for us, band and crew alike. John Mayall is such an influential person in the music industry that it was like doing a gig with some sort of minor God.

Continued at Gibbo's War Stories...

The NSW Liberal party is a joke!

Where do I start?
First of all I find out last week that they are standing Nola Fraser as our local candidate then I awake to the news this morning that the alternative Premier of NSW has been taking drinking lessons lessons from Andrew Bartlett. Fuck me dead folks! Do you get Fly Buys for being an idiot these days or something?

We have just withstood 10 years of Bob Carr whose greatest achievement was to make it to retirement before being sacked, and what do we step up to the plate with? Nola bloody Fraser and John "Mail Order Bride" Brogden. In the words of Howard Dean... "Aaaarrrrgggggghhhhhhhhhhhhyyyyeeeeooooowwwwaaaarrrgggghhhh"

I was going to ask what John was thinking but obviously he wasn't. Sorry John, but you are going to have to show enough balls to step down now. You have, in one fell swoop, become nothing but a liability. Day after day we see the left side of politics in this country hoping like hell for the Liberals to self destruct. They know that this is their only hope of ever being elected as they are far too hopeless to ever be elected on merit.

Well..you've handed it to them on a plate.

GetOverYourself.Com

Australia's latest political force, GetUp!, has only taken weeks to become a political farce. Liberal party reject John Hewson has reportedly resigned leaving the website as yet another Left Wing spam factory. From todays SMH:

"The group was designed to be a non-partisan political organisation focusing on issues such as industrial relations, media ownership and immigration detention centres. It was set up to appeal to people disaffected with the traditional party system.

But Liberal backbenchers, including the Sydney MP Malcolm Turnbull and the Melbourne MP Andrew Robb, denounced the group and its initial email campaign as little more than spam.

A Victorian MP and member of the parliamentary committee on electoral matters, Tony Smith, labelled it a "scam" that was "an old Labor front dressed up as a genuine movement".

What is it with these idiots and their never ending mission to re-educate the stupid people of Australia to their "approved" version of democracy? I'll give you a tip folks, we already have a democratic process. It's called an election. You lost hahahahaha!

I love the last bit though:
"Dr Hewson's resignation places the organisation in a difficult position.

The search is now on to find someone who is not aligned with either the Labor Party or the Greens to gain wider community appeal."

The key is right there folks. If you are aligned with the Labor Party or The Greens, you do NOT have "wider community appeal".

GetAHaircutAndARealJob.Com, now there's an idea for a political movement.