tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338861152011-12-12T13:39:09.414+10:30Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.comBlogger1131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-52845848169211483542009-11-30T15:12:00.002+10:302009-12-21T10:09:28.787+10:30

Adelaide has been in a state of pandamonium for the past two years, ever since the zoo announced it was getting a pair of giant pandas on loan from China. Hi, I’m Red and I’m underwhelmed. I’m not quite sure where all the excitement has come from, really, because most people just seem to say, “Meh, pandas. Oh, look, is that an ingrown hair?” Nevertheless, the Traumatiser and all the tellies and

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-46960397205745068962009-01-06T20:32:00.005+10:302009-01-06T20:54:30.266+10:30

A little while ago, I received this comment on an old post on shallow bush grave names.“I decided to search for my daughters name online as it is quite unique name, and the name has personal meaning to my wife. this is the only site in the world that mentions it and because you happen to be from adelaide and have the name Kyealea on your blog I guess we probably know you.It must be a sad

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-58567437433915736192008-11-09T12:24:00.001+10:302009-12-04T16:11:38.371+10:30

Remember when you were 14 and hated the world and your dad would wander through the living room wearing his cardigan with the leather buttons while you had friends over and were listening to music? And he’d try to be cool by making a dad joke or saying, “How about that Madonna, eh? Doesn’t wear very much, does she?” And then you’d notice he had a bit of Vegemite on his chin?Well, Adelaide is your

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-78070370213380685332008-07-20T22:24:00.002+09:302008-07-20T22:39:43.901+09:30

Exhibit A: Exhibit B: And since I'm already going to hell, why not Exhibit C as well? One rests one's case.

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-3306306040599948112008-07-13T21:15:00.000+09:302008-07-13T21:17:02.966+09:30

(David Attenborough voice)“For hundreds of years, men have sought the answer to this question: where do cauliflowers, those giants of the vegetable world, go to die? Now, with the discovery of a fridge crisper in a beach-side suburb of Adelaide, we may have found the answer.”Sadly, that crisper belongs to me.I have such good intentions when I visit the fruit and veg. Soups, stir-fries, curries,

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-61676092183258623732008-04-08T22:03:00.003+09:302008-04-08T22:14:39.040+09:30

Yesterday morning, two women stopped at the base of an empty escalator, blocking the way."Excuse me," I said, politely.They both turned and looked at me as though I'd spat on them."Could I get past, please?" Politely, again.They mustered up some more outrage, but moved as little as possible. I slipped past and climbed the escalator. When I got to the top, I heard one shout, "You kno-owww, there

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-13102735005094790072008-03-22T23:01:00.004+10:302008-03-22T23:07:28.600+10:30

Felix says, "Go look at red's holiday snaps. Or I'll eat you. ~purrrrr~"

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-12794153605620376922008-03-16T19:05:00.013+10:302008-03-16T21:44:58.468+10:30

The front wheel hit the puddle and instantly, the windscreen turned brown. I jumped out to sluice it with bottled water (the windscreen wiper reservoir was, of course, empty) and the smell hit me, curling my nose hairs and crimping my mouth. Something must have been using the puddle as a wallow and Livingstone was completely covered in what can only be described as a thin solution of shit. The

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-90935783953181733672008-02-24T21:33:00.008+10:302008-02-24T22:18:18.199+10:30

Sorry for the delay. If everyone's bored now, please tell me and I'll skip the rest of the travelogue. Not sure when I'll manage to finish it anyway - it's Festival and Fringe time and my evenings will be a little occupied for the next three weeks.Leaving the lodge in the desert, we drove out along the same dusty road, bypassing Solitaire because the Yanks and their guide were in front of us and

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-47118516386204538652008-02-08T19:55:00.000+10:302008-02-08T20:19:58.843+10:30

At Windhoek’s tiny airport, we picked up a four-wheel drive ute for our trip across the desert. We christened it Livingstone and hit the road for Okapuka, a game ranch just outside town. Bush seemed like a better option than a generic city hotel.We arrived in time for sundowners and dragged our bags into the thatched chalet. The lodge grounds were sprawling and beautiful, with blue mountains as a

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-5158955416721659882008-01-29T23:49:00.001+10:302008-01-30T01:46:25.747+10:30

Remember that scene in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where Kate Capshaw's ditsy nightclub singer is rushing around their jungle campsite being growled at by lizards and accidentally picking up bats? No? She comes rushing back to Indy and says, "This whole place is completely surrounded by living things!"I'm starting to get that same feeling myself.Yes, the bit behind the fence wirereads "

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-73426113099408930612008-01-28T19:27:00.000+10:302008-01-30T01:33:31.391+10:30

The Soutpansberg Mountains, seen from Palm HavenThe road from Johannesburg could hardly look more different from last summer. When I was here the first time, the country was baked red, the grass tawny like a lion's hide. This year, South Africa is having a true wet season and the roadside and veldt have been washed green. Wetlands and muddy wallows have appeared by the highway, followed by white

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-52159081968454462852008-01-20T21:48:00.000+10:302008-01-23T22:40:46.255+10:30

Just after Christmas, Bloke was stretched out on the couch, watching the Boxing Day test. Which Melbourne stole from Adelaide, by the way. Just like they stole the Grand Prix. Well, admittedly, we only pretended to give a rat’s tail about the Grand Prix. It was bloody noisy. The only reason we have to be angry now is that instead of a Grand Pricks, we ended up with a mob of V8 Supercar pricks,

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-28111944910771539472007-12-27T21:25:00.000+10:302008-01-23T22:46:48.456+10:30

It was probably a bad sign that the only Christmas carol I enjoyed this season was Shane McGowan and Kirsty MacColl singing "Fairytale of New York". But when I was sitting at work on me tod on Monday morning, the carols on the ABC were just wearing me down. There are only so many damned silver bells one can cope with.I'm not sure whether it was related, but Christmas dinner got off to a bad start

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-86378769482838489302007-12-16T20:36:00.000+10:302007-12-16T23:14:03.844+10:30

Meet Paris, our robot vacuum cleaner. Say hi, Paris.Hey, sexy. You're so hot! Wanna make a home movie with me?Just buy me a miniature chihuahua... Oi! Stop it! God, she's such a tart! Bloke bought her a few weeks back, by mail order. Just like a Russian/Nigerian bride who steals all your money and lets her brothers try to kill you. "But awww!" I hear you say. "Your husband bought you a robot

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-79381697493666083872007-12-08T17:02:00.000+10:302007-12-08T17:38:00.462+10:30

Exhibit A:Exhibit B: Unrelated? I think not.Sure, kids like the lights, but they think that lead paint chips are edible and green vegetables aren't, so what the hell do they know?You mark my words - fairy lights are frying the planet.

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-36730443920372026032007-11-22T23:06:00.000+10:302007-11-23T11:18:54.204+10:30

I really don't have much use for it.I know it's been a little quiet chez hack for a while, but don't worry. I'm still pissed off at the world. So, without further ado and certainly without further adont, here are some of the things that are annoying me this week:Hyperactive flacksPR is a thankless job. I've done it and I know, OK? But I also know that no-one ever got a story in any paper by being

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-22669185482732961502007-11-17T19:04:00.000+10:302007-11-17T19:22:57.589+10:30

Have you ever wondered what one pea for each day of the year might look like, spread over the floor?We-e-ell, wonder no more.It's funny how the universe conspires against you some days, isn't it? I thought, "Hmm, greens are good. I'll have peas for dinner!" So I shoved some in the microwave and gave them a nuking that BHP Billiton would have been proud of. Mr Microwave went "bing!" so I fished

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-29876883459790279852007-11-14T21:01:00.000+10:302007-11-14T22:11:37.131+10:30

I went to the opera for the first time on Saturday night. The Barber of Seville was on and when I saw the billboard, I thought, "Oh, I've always wanted to see that!" It was only after the tickets arrived that I realised it was actually Sweeney Todd that I'd always wanted to see. Demon barber, not cheery, sneaky barber. There is a difference.But there are a few things about the opera that you just

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-38862275316662013672007-11-05T22:08:00.000+10:302007-11-05T22:25:28.903+10:30

Yes, I'm still alive. Sorry for the silence, for the four of you who noticed. New job brain-drain, bloggers' block, etc. Now Bloke has cleared out for the Dark Continent again, leaving me here with only Mr Furpants for company. Le sigh.For some reason, spam is really starting to sap my will to live. My new gig has put me on some mean mailing lists. Combined with a spam filter set so low that you

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-89189079192157243652007-09-15T16:47:00.000+09:302007-09-15T17:09:49.696+09:30

This is a little game I like to play on long car trips or when tipsy. The rules are quite simple: pick some revolting ingredients and design your muffin. Savoury, sweet, cross-over cuisine - it doesn't matter. The only requirement is that it be disgusting. It does have to food, though. No using snot and boot polish - that's too easy. And no human flesh thanks. We're talking inappropriate, not

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com58tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-45709908611813233772007-09-06T21:54:00.000+09:302007-09-06T22:34:39.010+09:30

I went to a lunchtime lecture on South Australian polar explorers a little while ago. It looked at the work of Douglas Mawson, Hubert Wilkins and John Rydoch Rymill. Naturally, Mawson was the star of the show, with his hundred dollar stare and his dog-eating survivalist ways, but Rymill and Wilkins were also men with big dreams who accomplished amazing things. I found out all sorts of interesting

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-85723299501877799772007-09-02T16:48:00.000+09:302007-09-07T19:40:24.383+09:30

When I was a kid, my dad and I were master beachcombers.Dad always loved the sea and he loved fishing. We lived in the same beachside suburb where he grew up. When he was five and his little brother was three, the pair of them would walk to the jetty alone to fish. This was the 1930s, 30 years before the Beaumont Children disappeared. Little as they were, they didn't drown, they weren't kidnapped

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-11825306553399825042007-08-26T16:54:00.000+09:302007-08-27T23:02:45.125+09:30

I'll apologise for this up front. I know it's immature. I know.Just remember, I laugh when someone says 'bum'. When Bloke is bored, he'll just whisper 'bum' in my ear in a Monty Python sort of voice and sit back and be entertained. When we went to see Ross Noble during the Fringe this year, I laughed so hard I nearly hyperventilated during a skit where a zoo monkey was bumming a bum-faced child

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-86990402135100996312007-08-21T21:19:00.001+09:302008-01-23T22:50:01.135+10:30

Just dandy for dunking piss-off biscuitsWould any court in the world convict me for killing those bastards who leave bits of instant coffee in the sugar?I've thought about it and I really don't think so. After all, it looks like crumbs of mouse shite and no-one, no matter how much they like mouses, enjoys the thought of specks of rodent poop in their tea.I really don't understand how it happens.

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-22568058141806329932007-08-15T22:06:00.001+09:302007-08-15T22:33:17.925+09:30

When you see two men carrying a Hammond home organ into the room, you know you're in trouble.It's something like watching evil clowns pile out of a tiny car or suddenly noticing the milk you put in your coffee was two weeks out of date. My life started flashing in front of my eyes, reminding me of all the other bad Hammond experiences I've ever had. Like Anzac Day ~shudder~The latest Hammond

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-85857036660863017592007-08-11T21:27:00.000+09:302007-08-15T20:30:56.686+09:30

After a few minor stuff-ups (you know, the unco sort of stuff I usually do, like accidentally deleting my profile, arsing up the new blog so I had to delete it and start again), we have book blog lift-off.It's called the paper drunkards and the address is http://paperdrunkards.blogspot.com/EDIT: There are now so many paper drunkards that every month is spoken for up to December 2009! To start on

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-73159031341104053752007-08-08T20:24:00.000+09:302007-08-09T20:21:35.040+09:30

Hi, I'm redcap and I'm a book nerd.(applause, supportive hugs, vodka shots, etc.)So, who else among you is a book nerd? And who would like to be part of a bloggy book group?Dunno about you, but I'm far too lazy to actually go to a book group and my house is way too messy to host one. BUT I love talking books with like-minded peeps. (ShadDUP! I've got an Honours Degree in English Lit and nothing

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-4627507938972010132007-08-02T18:42:00.000+09:302007-08-03T21:41:00.135+09:30

Ah, whingeing. It makes people so eager to see you or call up for a chat. Practice the gentle art of the whine and you'll find it works a treat in getting rid of the bastards. Hey, presto: more time for reading.I may have little to write about at the moment, but there are always things that are pissing me off. So here's the honour roll for this week:Cirque du SoleilI love circuses, especially the

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-50872187321955176942007-07-29T17:48:00.000+09:302007-08-02T18:37:15.233+09:30

Try as I might, I can't think of anything to blog about. It could have something to do with the fact that I was so hung over yesterday that I really thought I might have sprained my hair.So I'm going to send you off to see some of my funnier and far more entertaining friends and associates with newish blogs.First on the list is daydreams of a narcoleptic bedwetter. Its proprietor is hungry,

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-13662093892802182372007-07-22T18:53:00.000+09:302007-07-22T18:55:33.424+09:30

And there was silence all across the world as kids, large and small, read.

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-70350761470563390402007-07-19T21:11:00.001+09:302007-07-19T21:46:08.314+09:30

Ah, it's a fine, fine line between fan and freak.A few weeks ago, I reviewed a book called What Will Happen in Harry Potter 7? by the mugglenet people. Hey, I'm mildly HP-obsessed and I just love free books. Sold.But reading this book made me realise a couple of things. You might consider yourself a fan of something, but unless you (a) visit fan sites (b) read/write fan fiction and (c) own

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-2665633075421066242007-07-13T20:58:00.000+09:302007-07-14T14:34:43.487+09:30

Ah, whatever happened to The Tenants? In memory of a great one-hit wonder of a Triple J Unearthed winner, I give you the things that are shitting me to tears this week:People who are bothered by me jaywalkingI am a committed jaywalker. I say if it's good enough for our Lord Mayor, it's good enough for me. In the past few days, I've looked both ways and walked against the lights, only to have two

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-24169816636272231462007-07-06T20:02:00.000+09:302007-07-06T22:18:54.743+09:30

Recently, I had an Extremely Odd Transport Day.It started with catching a ride on the rude express in the morning. For some reason, I got The Early Train, which is packed with school kiddies and people who would rather be asleep. I crawled on and snaffled a window seat. The woman opposite me was champing open-mouthed on a wad of gum. At 7.30am. The guy next to her was quite personable, yet chose

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-90636301554488653412007-06-20T15:09:00.000+09:302007-06-20T15:56:47.447+09:30

Erg. Snot Fairy's back again, damn her eyes. It's all Bloke's fault. He got a revolting bug and generously shared it with me. Ms Fairy is proving to be like that uninvited bogan who turns up at your party, drinks all the beer, eats all the mini hamburgers and then pukes through your screen door.So, for the snot-ridden flu sufferer in your life, here's my chicken soup recipe. It's not hard and

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-17045565983474813882007-06-11T19:35:00.000+09:302007-06-11T20:48:13.084+09:30

An ER is a surreal place at 2.30am.The carpark is icy, dark and quiet. Inside the first set of doors, a woman in pink ugg boots sits on the corner of a planter, her face in her hands. She is worn thin and surrounded by a fug of abuse.The waiting room holds a motley collection of people, backs to the triage office and all staring blankly at an infomercial advertising a set of music DVDs. Just

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-17480182787272298252007-06-03T21:30:00.000+09:302007-06-04T22:18:29.730+09:30

I’m back. The Phlegm Fairy has relaxed her snotty grasp just enough so that I can think coherently again. Hurrah, etc.Gigglewick has kindly tagged me for a meme that was obviously made with snarky bitches like me in mind: 10 things I hate about other people. The only trouble here will be restricting oneself to just 10 things. As you may have noticed, I’m not prejudiced. I hate everyone.So, I’ve

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-44914094623546082192007-05-19T17:22:00.000+09:302007-05-21T20:26:17.622+09:30

Sorry to those of you who just brought up you your breakfast/lunch/evening bucket of gin and tonic at the sight of that picture. I realise that it looks like chicken bones wrapped in black cling-film and jammed into some Barbie shoes. Believe me, I feel your pain, but it was the first picture I found and in my usual fashion, I said, "Fuckitthatlldo". In any case, scrawny models, though rife, are

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com49tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-67555077193280074392007-05-10T19:14:00.000+09:302007-05-10T20:39:59.543+09:30

This guy scares me. He's life-size and he stands at the door to a rather grim cafe that I pass several times a day. I swear I heard him sniff and murmur longingly, "Mmm, brains..." as I passed by this morning.I presume that his hat is red because he dips it in the blood of the damned, just like a real redcap, and the latte cup is for offerings of grey matter.

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-70455886403675610772007-05-01T15:25:00.000+09:302007-05-04T21:30:11.655+09:30

Perhaps I’m not a team player. Maybe I’m one of those people who just likes to be alone. After all, a former boss did say that she thought I would make a good sniper. I was never sure whether that was a compliment or not. Whatever the case, I can't deny having an extremely low twit threshold. But I don’t think I'm being entirely unreasonable when I say that there are certain conversations that I

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-641394050796102212007-04-25T15:05:00.000+09:302007-08-15T22:36:36.694+09:30

I feel gypped. I may have no right to feel gypped, but I do. And while to err may well be human, to whinge about the cock-ups is even more bloody human.I walked to my local Anzac Day dawn service this morning. The sun rose in a chill, grey sky, showing about 500 people standing around a clock crowned with a stone angel. It started to drizzle as we waited. Twenty-five minutes late, a piper struck

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-48483237958185559102007-04-19T11:55:00.000+09:302007-04-19T11:56:23.558+09:30

(Bring, bring)Red: Good morning, Cheese Shop.Caller: Oh, hello. I'm looking for a phone number for Fred Nerk.Red: I'll see if we have it.(Looks in contacts list.)No, sorry, I don't have his number.Caller: Oh, I suppose I could just look in the phone book.Red: Yes, he might be in the phone book.(Hangs up very, very gently, so as not to startle the stupid bugs and make them jump down the phone.)

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-21897302366663451782007-04-18T22:48:00.000+09:302007-04-18T23:20:02.353+09:30

On Sunday morning, I hauled my sorry arse out of bed. The house looked like ground zero would have looked had it had wine bottles and the entire contents of a kitchen scattered over it. There were people asleep on the couch and in my study, leftover from Saturday night's dinner party.I wandered out onto the back verandah to start collecting beer bottles, wine glasses and the chess set that the

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-88143238770675778692007-04-14T00:33:00.000+09:302007-04-15T20:03:54.173+09:30

Ah, WEA, how I heart you.I suspect that WEA stands for Workers' Education Association or something similar and that it was all very socialist and radical in the day. It was born shortly after my grandmothers and I really wish I knew what sort of courses were taught in the ninteen-teens, because I bet they were a collective cracker.I have no beef with the WEA. After all, that's where I learned how

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-40116370528150188432007-04-12T21:14:00.000+09:302008-01-23T23:03:36.930+10:30

Here, loves. Have some pictures of the 5km stretch that I consider to be 'our' beach.The path through the dunes at the end of our street.Look very carefully and you can see a willy wagtail. We have a willy wagtail at home who delights in tormenting the cat. His name is Robert. But then all willy wags are called Robert.* Here's our jetty. Isn't it nice?And this is what it looks like from

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-38373050027589454382007-04-09T16:21:00.000+09:302007-04-09T16:39:35.974+09:30

Oh, crikey, I feel virtuous! I've been paving in the front garden. Mr Furpants showed his approval by sunbaking on the new bricks, but he is a bit of a paving whore.The final result was more artistic than neat, because I used old red bricks and no two were the same size, colour or even shape. But it's rustic, all right? And what can you expect when some of them used to be the walls of my

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-19851140441810300792007-04-03T21:49:00.000+09:302007-04-03T22:25:42.250+09:30

"Why don’t we clean out the shed?” I said hopefully. “We could get a skip.”“But I’m using that stuff,” Bloke said, offended.“What, for a CSIRO-sponsored redback spider breeding program?”“Ha bloody ha. Ha!”We opened the roller door on Saturday and I found I was wrong. The shed could still be used as one of the sets for Arachnophobia VIII: Weekend at Incy Wincy’s, but it wasn’t full of redbacks. (I

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-78460767952342596122007-03-28T20:51:00.000+09:302007-03-29T10:49:59.967+09:30

When you tell people that you're making biltong, the responses are a fairly even mix of, "Oh, CHRIST, you wouldn't!" and "Mmmm - wouldn't mind a bit of that!"Most of the "eeeeuuwwww!!!" noises have come from my mum and my sister. They're terrified we're going to poison someone. The Saffies have been drying meat for about 300 years now and they haven't died. Why d'you think the Boer soldiers were

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-37992760159091402672007-03-25T17:40:00.000+09:302007-03-25T20:00:18.172+09:30

Oh, bugger. Ashleigh just pointed out that only team members could comment on my blog. Sorry 'bout that, chief! It's not because I don't loveyouseall. I guess I cocked up the settings without realising it. Anyway, all fixed now and everyone is welcome once more.Except those stoners who keep trying to hijack my blog to advertise their dope pipes. They can fuck off and die.

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-70602904670515991542007-03-23T22:32:00.000+10:302007-04-03T22:24:48.273+09:30

Ah, Adelaide, my Adelaide.I've been suffering from bloggers' block since I finished writing about Africa. I thought about deleting my blog and never logging in again because, after all, how could anything be worth writing about after that? But then The Weird came crashing in again.Ah, The Weird. Where else but Oddelaide could one see, in the space of an hour:a line of girls waiting for the doors

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-46095290481676910772007-03-09T00:34:00.000+10:302007-04-12T21:54:22.340+09:30

On the off-chance that anyone is still interested, I've put some photos from Africa on a Flickr. They're in roughly reverse chronological order, I'm afraid, because I wasn't smart enough to get them the other way around the first time and now I don't have the energy to fix it. Half-hearted? Ja ja.So, fill yer collective boots.

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-23404574749115896212007-03-08T01:01:00.000+10:302007-03-25T19:45:39.038+09:30

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post, but I think I broke my liver in Africa. It's been in a sling since I got home. On top of the jetlag, the after-effects of the No Jetlag pills (bloody herbal crap - don't go near it!), sleeplessness and the chesty bug I caught from our tour guide, I've been largely useless for the past week. Well, more useless than usual, anyway. Half-hearted hacks are

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-29571090398524973942007-02-26T22:57:00.000+10:302007-03-25T19:46:01.598+09:30

Well, the adventure is over. We got home last night after 27 hours of driving, flying and composting in airports. My underwear, however, is still happily circling the world because South African Airlines lost my suitcase. In fact, most of my clothes, clean and dirty, are still tootling about. I really hope they find it, because my favourite pair of 'laccy boots is in that bag. Last time they lost

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-40110931446459089382007-02-14T23:18:00.001+10:302007-03-25T19:46:33.451+09:30

You should probably get a cup of tea and a biscuit. This could take a while. I probably won’t have internet access again until Cape Town.I’m writing this sitting on the verandah of a thatch-roofed rondavel overlooking the Chobe River in Botswana. From here, I can see Namibia. There are two dust-coloured monkeys sitting on the verandah steps, watching me type. There’s another sniffing my drying

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1170837978123815272007-02-07T19:15:00.000+10:302007-03-25T19:46:53.113+09:30

There is a little bird the colour of flames outside my window. He isn’t much bigger than a sparrow, but he has two long tail-feathers that he uses as a rudder. He flits between the thorn trees, catching insects and flirting his tail at me, daring me to try to get a photo of him before he disappears.One paradise flycatcher.(Note the thorns in the tree.)We're staying at Palm Haven, a lodge attached

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1170416922427419622007-02-02T21:02:00.000+10:302007-03-25T19:47:13.317+09:30

Well, my darlings, I've packed my trunk and I'm going on an adventure. An adventure to Africa, to be exact, and I leave first thing in the morning.I'm all packed and stashed among the hiking boots, the sturdy trousers and the odd swanky dress are the following:One large can "Lion-Off"Everyone needs supersize pussycat repellant. Unless, of course, one is visiting a

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1170164419708234922007-01-31T00:02:00.000+10:302007-02-26T23:09:51.892+10:30

How difficult can it be, being a half-hearted hack?You don't even need an opposable thumb. And you can lie down on the job.Pfft, what's she been carping about all week?

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1169799729877482922007-01-26T17:50:00.001+10:302010-01-27T09:59:22.916+10:30

What happened? When did Australia Day become National Bloody Barbecue Day? It used to be a non-entity of a holiday and an excuse for a long weekend and that was that.When I was a kid, I did like Australia Day. That was when Adam was a lad, in the days before compo claims and public liability wankery, when Adelaide used to have a Birdman Rally. The Birdman Rally was ace. It even used to be

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1169468956361157822007-01-22T21:39:00.000+10:302007-02-27T21:40:58.090+10:30

1. You may not be able to see your own arse, but other people canStrange but true! If I had a dollar for every person I've seen blithely rummaging around trying to pluck out a particularly tenacious wedgy, or scratching so enthusiastically they could be in training for the national arse-scratching team, I'd be JK bloody Rowling.2. Freemasons make great scapegoatsIt must be all that truck with

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1169206244024416952007-01-19T21:58:00.000+10:302007-02-27T21:34:50.588+10:30

Boyos, take it from me. Chicks fear a few things in life. Finding a new hairdresser and purchasing new togs are two of them. For some reason, I chose to do both of these things to myself within the space of two days.Let’s just say that if you see some dizzy cow wearing a hat and eating a crapload of lettuce, that would probably be me. Hurrah for fat arses and lousy haircuts, eh?The new togs were

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1168947037104951532007-01-16T21:17:00.000+10:302007-03-23T15:57:58.360+10:30

There are more blokes than chicks in town with waxed legs. Believe me, I kid you not.Ah, Tour Down Under. For non-Adelaide people (ie, most of youse what is sane), this is a cycle race. Our premier (Jedi - this equals "governor"), Media Mike, likes to think that our cycle race is about to take on Le Tour de France. Ha. Sadly, Media Mike is wildly delusional and also thinks that he can catch

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1168600238592210572007-01-12T21:25:00.001+10:302007-02-27T21:41:45.049+10:30

I love a good test, don’t you? It’s so much fun. The South Australian police and transport bastards must have heard, because they developed a great one that we can all take, if we try hard enough. Well, not really. We shouldn’t try to be eligible for this one.I don’t know about other states, but SA is a little on the Nazi-ish side when it comes to drink driving. Before you give me a bollocking, I

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1168430843527393722007-01-10T20:33:00.000+10:302007-02-26T23:10:49.316+10:30

I've just demolished a bowl of vanilla ice-cream with caramel topping and I'm all sugared up and ready to take on Part II: the ickle durls. (Anyone still interested? First visit? Read yesterday's to find out what's going on. I'll wait until you get back.)I thnk the girls' names may actually be worse than the boys' names. This is because you can make a girl's name from string and cardboard if you

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1168345470470022652007-01-09T21:00:00.000+10:302007-02-26T23:11:12.740+10:30

I've said it before and I'll say it again. In fact, I should just make a recording. What the hell is wrong with people?You may have noticed from my sidebar that I have a very, very slight obsession with inappropriate baby names. I'm sorry to say that the problem has reached plague proportions. For every nice, normal name like Nick and Jack and Holly and Eva, there are five nasty, shallow bush

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1167919549528853282007-01-04T23:30:00.000+10:302007-03-26T19:01:30.948+09:30

Gay people have way more fun than straight people. How do I know this? Gay advertising is so much more entertaining than the mainstream rubbish.Sitting in the pub tonight, I found Objects of Love, the official guide to the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras. The cover looked promising, with little circular images including a nekkid bum, some boobs and a martini, but it was the ads that really

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1167806108934760512007-01-03T16:30:00.000+10:302007-02-27T21:42:40.612+10:30

It's hot and it's just going to get hotter. Before Saturday, I mean, not in a "global warming is here and we're all going to die" sort of way, even though we probably are. Oh, Ford, who died and made me Bono?Anyway, what does one drink in such putrid weather when one doesn't care for beer? Why, a mojito, of course.Here's one I prepared (and drank) earlierAnd it's easy. Because I lovesyouseall,

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1167656595490546792007-01-01T21:50:00.000+10:302007-02-26T23:13:55.564+10:30

That should probably be "You're whit stupid".A few weeks ago, one of the Guardian Books Blog contributors wrote a post about not liking things that one is expected to like. I can't find it now and I can't remember who the contributor was, so I'll just have to hope I'm not plagiarising him/her all to buggery. The upshot of the post was that there are some things that you simply can't admit to not

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1167562809164702792006-12-31T21:03:00.000+10:302007-03-26T19:00:52.222+09:30

Right, there are a few people with whom I am Not Happy. You know who you are. I'm giving you all a very, very hard stare.This, as you will have noticed, is a cemetery. It's a lovely old churchyard at Magill in Adelaide's eastern suburbs. It dates back to the 1840s and it has some beautiful old headstones set among olives, pine trees and agapanthus.In the foreground of the picture, you can see a

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1167212913265592472006-12-27T18:18:00.000+10:302007-03-26T19:02:02.544+09:30

It's taken a day and a half, but I think I've recovered from the trauma. I did things to a turkey on Sunday and Monday that have left me feeling so dirty.Holy hell, that bird was big. When I ordered it from our local butcher I said, "I need to feed 10. How big a turkey do you think I need?" Fatal mistake. I now realise that that was almost as stupid as saying to a hairdresser, "Oh, I don't mind.

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1166936729270178222006-12-24T14:53:00.000+10:302007-03-26T19:00:05.440+09:30

I've been thinking. (Yes, that was that grinding noise you heard last night. I hope it didn't keep you awake.) What is the point of Christmas? Acknowledging the birth of Christ? An orgy of consumerism? Spending time with the family? The contented observation of childish excitement? An excuse to buy crayfish and prawns?No. It suddenly dawned on me this morning when Bloke and I popped into the

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1166697312824455202006-12-21T19:43:00.000+10:302007-03-26T19:00:25.213+09:30

Q. How would you be if you threw a street party and no-one came?A. Meh, fuck knows. You think I'm that needy? Ask my loser neighbours.A very classy A4 sheet, surrounded by a standard Microsoft Office holly border, arrived in our letterbox on the weekend. (We live in a street with the same name as a poet, though the spelling is slightly different. So let's call our street Tennison St. I've always

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1166360989639449962006-12-17T23:27:00.000+10:302007-02-26T23:13:28.734+10:30

Right, the cat's gone mad. He's finally cracked. I was annoyed when he decided he needed to mark his territory by spraying on the washing basket a few weeks ago. I was horrified when he brought a live sparrow into the dining room last week.Those things I could cope with. Unpleasant, but normal cat behaviour, right? Not this time. I just found him licking the soles of my leather thongs. He was

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1166358684082958332006-12-17T22:20:00.000+10:302007-03-26T18:58:29.269+09:30

It's a week until Christmas and I've made two concessions to the season: gingerbread and the Christmas tree. Last year, the gingerbread flopped when I had a Dory moment and accidentally used cornflour instead of plain plour, and I couldn't be bothered putting up the tree. After all, you just have to take it down again, don't you?The whole kitchen is covered in a fine film of flour and cinnamon

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1166181059479447432006-12-15T20:47:00.000+10:302007-03-25T19:16:50.564+09:30

Ah, Adelaide. Can there really be a better place for weirdo-watching? I have two examples par excellence for your amusement.Exhibit one: Ms Orange PeelYesterday, I wandered into Rundle Mall to do some shopping for Western Consumer Holiday (book vouchers, mais bien sur). On the way back, I found myself walking behind Ms Orange Peel. It was like an immense train wreck. I simply couldn't look away.

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1165924731727924002006-12-12T21:00:00.000+10:302007-03-25T18:46:39.339+09:30

There are two words that strike fear into the all-but-empty chest cavity of the half-hearted hack: advertising feature. Gahh! Nooooo! (Whimpering noises, rocking and drooling reflex engaged.)Oh, it's OK now. I've had a large measure of Appleton Estate for my nerves and it's all fine. Really. Sunshine, lollypops...Recently, I did a stint on ad features for my sins (which are obviously many and

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1165834157520795652006-12-11T20:39:00.000+10:302007-03-25T18:58:57.713+09:30

Apart from the fact that I kinda like the word "karmarama", I'd like to enter into the "pay it forward" spirit. After all, it's Western Consumer Holiday and all, and I figure the best thing I can do for some of my fellow bloggers is put a few clicks in their stockings. People have done it for me, so I'm passing on the favour and listing some of the people who make me laugh. After all, the silly

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1165732562116882832006-12-10T17:05:00.000+10:302007-02-26T23:10:29.820+10:30

Huh? I was asleep! Right, you're getting bitten.

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1165576855809208392006-12-08T18:14:00.000+10:302007-03-26T18:58:00.698+09:30

Bloody hell. It's bloody Christmas abloodygain.I'm not a complete Grinch. Really. There are things I like about Western Consumer Holiday, the licence to go out to lunch and not come back being chief among them. Prawns, gingerbread and Bing Crosby are high on the list, too, though preferably not served on the same plate. However, boozy afternoons, prawns and Bing aside, there are things I really

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1165044285670523642006-12-02T17:18:00.000+10:302007-03-26T18:59:21.918+09:30

I'm sure by now you've all seen News Ltd politics reporter Glenn "The Hurricane" Milne making a drunken twit of himself at the Walkley Awards on Thursday night. If you haven't, have a squiz. (Thanks YouTube - without you, we would have missed out on the most hilarious stoush of the year.)Nice performance, Hurricane. After all, why would you want to get trashed and have a go at someone in front of

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1164889998271064772006-11-30T23:01:00.000+10:302007-03-25T18:45:30.177+09:30

Point of origin: Scoozi, Rundle StreetTopping: vegetarian (char-grilled mushrooms, eggplant, roasted capsicum, artichokes, diced fresh tomato and basil, plus bocconcini as an extra)Pizzoddyssey looked like languishing for a while. I even had pizza and couldn’t be bothered reviewing it because it was it was so boring. There really wasn’t much to say about it, except that it was too salty. If

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1164713873285383082006-11-28T20:27:00.000+10:302007-03-25T18:45:58.309+09:30

I'm declaring war on shorts. I'm not quite sure how to go about it, though. Does it have to be done in writing through the UN? Do I have to make some sort of grand gesture, like Hitler did when he invaded Poland? Or could it be as simple as walking up to Bec Hewitt and slapping her face with a glove?Shorts: just say noI'm not suggesting all shorts are bad - just most of them. Shorts have their

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1164445643732481892006-11-25T19:21:00.000+10:302007-03-25T18:51:58.746+09:30

It's amazing how a small thing can put a dent in your morning. For example, a cockroach in the washing machine can really bugger things up.It was very, very dead when I found it, and presumably it was now very clean, too, because I'd just done two loads of washing. It appeared to have all its legs, but for some reason, the thought of essence of roach all over my sheets, towels and smalls didn't

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1164021358861170962006-11-20T21:13:00.000+10:302007-03-25T18:47:35.149+09:30

Things have become a little dire chez Hack and Bloke. We have well and truly run out of bookshelf space. Look!That's the least of it - that's just the little bookcase in my study. It gets worse. This is the largest bookcase in the house, and it's stacked two deep:But it gets worse still. The dining room mantelpiece has been swamped, too:Soon we won't even be able to see the cheap-arse Monet print

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1163841582118063312006-11-18T17:34:00.001+10:302007-03-25T18:48:10.914+09:30

Supermarkets are like... I'll just apologise in advance that this post isn't as profound as the previous one. Sorry, but I just can't profund very often. It makes my head hurt.This week, I really covered myself in glory in the supermarket. As my regular reader may have noticed, I'm not fond of supermarkets, but this time it really took the cake. As usual, I was prowling around the aisles,

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1163333171323457022006-11-12T17:18:00.000+10:302007-05-01T21:22:49.641+09:30

Yesterday was Remembrance Day. It might seem a little naff, but I wore my poppy. I like Remembrance Day and Anzac Day because they actually mean something. And more often than not, listening to the Last Post makes me teary. (If it's well-played - the bugler at my local Dawn Service this year should have had his bugle confiscated and been given a kazoo instead.)Before you let me have it for being

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1163222171174316782006-11-11T15:38:00.000+10:302007-03-25T18:51:29.504+09:30

There's a corpse on the back verandah.It's a gift of love from Mr Furpants, of course: a medium-sized rat with a brown back and a cream tummy. I'm telling myself that it's just having a little nap in the shade, so who am I to disturb its rest? So what if its feet are stuck in the air and its ropey little tail is as stiff as a chopstick? It's not chewed or otherwise mutilated - Mr F doesn't deign

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1162713023989292072006-11-05T16:19:00.000+10:302007-03-25T18:52:28.477+09:30

You are travelling to another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind. You are entering The Twilight Zone. A place where Coles bar cake is a lovely snack and everyone is happy because they are growing tomatoes.How and why did we enter this other dimension? Well, I found something in my letterbox the other day that reminded me of my last visit to the Twilight Zone, so I

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1162555659266262582006-11-03T22:23:00.000+10:302007-03-25T18:52:54.393+09:30

I have to work tomorrow, and Miss Petstarr has asked me to screw up... ahem... look after the Idol wrap-up over at Bland Canyon this Sunday, so I thought I'd best chocolate things up tonight so you can bake something yummy on the weekend. How about pudding? I like pudding. But only if yeh've eaten yeh dinner. How can yeh have any pudding if yeh haven't eaten yeh meat??Chocolate uber pudding1 cup

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1162551692993141562006-11-03T20:57:00.000+10:302007-03-26T18:52:02.597+09:30

Jeez, I've had an arse day. I just don't seem to be able to get a damned thing right.(1) I'm a news-free zone. I'm doing a bit of news instead of my usual fluff, but news has escaped me. The prospect of a return to the Real Thing excited me for about a day, but then the wheels fell off, as they were bound to. I've called my old contacts, stirred my usual pots, but nada, nyet, fuck all. Even for a

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1162296550294173262006-10-31T21:32:00.000+10:302007-03-26T18:52:25.519+09:30

It's Hallowe'en again. Boo yah. Every year, ABC Radio and The Traumatiser join together in banging on about the Americanisation of our culture and overseas traditions becoming a part of Australian life, isn't-it-awful-blah-blah-blah. Naturally, driven by the media frenzy, I expect hoards of children to come trick-or-treating.So as not to disappoint said midgets, every year I buy

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1162284655291270972006-10-31T19:04:00.000+10:302007-03-25T18:54:50.530+09:30

Look what I found over at everyone's favourite bit of bitchery, Go Fug Yourself. The Fug Girls were most concerned with the raggy hemlines on the poor, underfed little thing's jeans, but I've cropped them out because they weren't what caught my attention.Forget about whichever Olsen twin this is - after all, who knows or cares? And she's obviously on her way to haunt a house somewhere, after

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1162120240390033022006-10-29T21:32:00.000+10:302007-03-25T18:55:14.216+09:30

I am convinced that when I remove my spectacles before bed, something odd happens to them. I put my book on top of the stack on my bedside table, put my glasses on top and turn out the light. Normal, yes? No. Then a small, earth-burrowing beastie (a mole? a wombat? a fuck-knows-what?) snuffles into the room, climbs the bedside table (without waking Mr Furpants), snatches my specs and puts them on

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1162017832048109212006-10-28T15:43:00.000+09:302007-03-25T18:55:34.947+09:30

Here's this week's chocolate recipe. Enjoy!Marble Cheesecake180g plain chocolate biscuits, crushed in the food processor90g butter, melted500g cream cheese400g can sweetened condensed milk200g white cooking chocolate, melted300ml thick cream1 tablespoon gelatine1/4 cup Cointreau, warmed100g dark cooking chocolate, meltedMix the biscuit crumbs and the butter (it has to be real butter, I'm afraid -

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1161865667357843632006-10-26T20:01:00.000+09:302007-03-26T19:05:47.867+09:30

No, I'm not Britney Spears. Thank Ford, because then I'd be married to Kevin Federline and I think I'd rather set my hair on fire. I have, however, found another one of those handy, dandy mail order crapalogues that I love so much. It fell out of a food magazine I was reading (which tells me the target demographic of that mag is Not Me). I tried to resist, really I did, but good ol' Bright Life

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1161779943252694052006-10-25T20:50:00.000+09:302007-03-25T18:56:22.489+09:30

I was feeling lazy today. Nobody required any hacking, I'd already clipped the hedges and done the washing, so I decided to haul my sorry arse down to the local cinema. At $6 a ticket, I couldn't lose, right?Wrong.My regular reader probably remembers that I read The Devil Wears Prada a little while ago (mainly because I borrowed it from her and because I haven't returned it yet). The book was no

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1161591821788241402006-10-23T17:44:00.000+09:302007-03-25T18:56:56.703+09:30

Meet Mr Furpants, Bringer of Mouses, Raiser of Hell and all-round demanding moggy.Mr Furpants has a thing about height. For some reason, he doesn't like to do anything at all on the floor if he can help it. He even eats from the laundry bench. At the moment, he is obsessed with the lefthand corner of my desk. Why? No idea. I can only guess that he thinks if he sits there, he'll be the centre of

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1161516415422262472006-10-22T20:27:00.000+09:302007-03-25T18:59:23.527+09:30

Point of origin: La MarinellaTopping: La Marinella (tomato, cheese, ham, pepperoni, mushroom, bacon, onion, fresh capscium, pineapple, olives)Well, it's pizza time again! Mmm, smells good so far.Hang on, what bastard decided it was a good idea to cut the crusts off? I'm not kidding - the crusts are cut off all the way around. It's been cut into a nice, neat grid, with a little throw-away border

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1161504713170517432006-10-22T16:10:00.000+09:302007-03-26T19:06:23.976+09:30

I love mail order companies. Can't get enough of their cunning little cheese graters, handy home helps and charming ornaments. The range of useless crap that they sell just astounds me. For example, Bradford.I'm sure you'll be overjoyed to know that I've found a new one. Well, Bloke found it, really, while he was flipping half-heartedly through the Sunday Mail this morning. "Oh, look! Satiny

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1161259708872092462006-10-19T21:33:00.000+09:302007-03-25T19:02:57.085+09:30

I know nobody asked for the heroin brownie recipe, but since I'll probably lose it, I'm going to post it anyway. This is for purely selfish reasons - if I want to make them again myself, I won't have to spend three hours looking for the recipe.250g dark chocolate125g butter1 cup brown sugar1 cup plain flour1/4 cup cocoa1/2 cup white choc chips1/2 cup dark choc chips1/2 cup milk choc chips3

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33886115.post-1161255837677003492006-10-19T19:26:00.000+09:302007-03-25T19:03:41.686+09:30

Be afraid, very afraid. Someone from the US found my blog by Googling "mice+guts". I have two questions: why does anyone search "mice+guts" and why am I number one on the Mice Guts Google Greatest Hits? You Americans are weirdos! But I guess that's not unlike the odd-bod person who searched "boobs+party" and found me. Boobs party? What the hell is a boobs party? Does everyone come wearing fake

redcaphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01916750858980883634noreply@blogger.com1