Saturday, 28 November 2009


This picture makes me laugh. That kid surely will grow up making a fortune (and no friends).
Its the modern equivalent of Richard standing under the stairs at primary school.


Eophytes grow in our native trees. They are a sort of parasitic plant that attach themselves to the branches. The picture is of a Pohutakawa tree at the water's edge just down the road. It is quite striking.
Talking of striking, Eophytes growing in tall bush trees (Rata, Kauri and Rimu etc) were known by the early settlers and gum diggers as 'widow makers'. This was because they could dislodge themselves in windy conditions and fall down on an someone sleeping beneath a tree.
There is a jetty at the end of the road I live in where people successfully fish morning and evening. They tell me that snapper is easy to catch. I think I'll give it a go as soon as I get a fishing rod.


The water was so still on Wednesday it was perfect for kayaking. Even Robert wouldn't tip out in these conditions. When you visit Robert we will go out (when the water is like glass). The mist created an ethereal effect. It was quite still and beautiful.


Jesus seems a bit pissed off. He came to me to ask that I get a message to Richard. It seems that not only has Richard been making fun of his birthdate he has been pandering to that Jesus hater Bin Hire. Jesus says that Bin Hire's philosophy on life is very suspect. He also says to Bin Hire good luck in finding 23 virgins in heaven when he gets there - he himself has never seen any where Bin Hire lives. (Boy is he pissed off).

Thursday, 26 November 2009

Sunday, 22 November 2009


....resort to pornography and salacious pictures of scantily clad women.
Nicola's Supermarket bag tried this although without success as I see very few bloggers bothered posting with Bin Hire commenting twice.
I see that Richard, in order to boost interest has encouraged porno scrotes to add their images. Admittedly they are more interesting than those boring pics of bass bags and Jesus etc. but it does somewhat lower the tone.
Oh well. Desperation demands some action I suppose.

Wednesday, 18 November 2009


It has been a busy couple of weeks moving all of our stuff into the new house and getting settled in. The Old Girl is back at work. She has been splitting her time between the office up here and Auckland. We may have to consider buying an Auckland apartment if she spends a lot of time there. The Wine Guy has been a pain in the arse. He is moaning because there isn't a wine cellar in the house like the custom built one we had at the other place. I dumped all his boxes of wine in the basement below the house and it is now all unsorted in wooden crates which makes it a bit of a lucky dip when selecting a wine. I wish he would piss off.


I've been quietly looking at job sites to see what employment may be on offer up here in the far north. There doesn't seem to be a lot except for medical, car sales and engineering so I may have to re-list myself as a marketing consultant. What I have noticed is that a good few of the advertisers preface the job availability with "Are you passionate about...". What? Passionate about selling vacuum cleaners? Are you passionate about driving a night soil cart? Are you passionate about manning a vodafone kiosk? Give me a break. Maybe, given the standard of job search personnel I could become one of those.

Wednesday, 11 November 2009


On the weekend I noticed that a car had hit a ditch or something on a country road and had seriously damaged its front wheels and suspension. It was parked by the side of the road and apart from the front damage was relatively unmarked.
A couple of days later the car was totally trashed.
Every window had been smashed. Wheels had been stolen. The bonnet was missing and components of the engine stolen. Most of the panels were damaged.
What the hell possesses people to do this? They are probably the types that piss in telephone boxes and steal the directories.


Well why not since Robert's been banging on about the Catholic Catechism and its virtues even while there's a backdrop of priests, b...