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Showing posts from June, 2008

Coriolis Effect, The


The Coriolis Effect? What is it? I used to know. At least well enough to pass my Year 12 Phys. Sci. exam. It's just one of a slew of things I knew and forgot. Although some people, say you don't forget anything....

I can't calculate the circumference of a circle. Is it the diameter or the radius times pi? Maybe it's neither. Even if I could find my calculator it couldn't help me. I need Dataman from Texas Instruments.

Snakebite. You don't suck the poison out. You use a tourniquet, right?'s compression, but not a tourniquet...maybe you elevate the affected part.? Or would that just send the venom screaming through your bloodstream and straight towards your heart?

You put avocados in a bag with bananas and both ripen quicker. Don't even bother with an unripe apricot because it won't get any softer. Maybe...

Feed a Fever. Starve a Cold. Red Sky at night, Shepherd's Pie. A rolling scone gathers no mass which is different from volume.…

Chia Joy with Crackbook


Apologies from the outset. I've gone a little Facebook crazy. But I have an excuse - I've been on it for the last hour, just clicking stuff, so if I 'blog about the experience, then I won't feel so feebly 'noughties about the ordeal. Will they understand any of this in a century - or even a decade?

Firstly, my friend spottyjunglecat, just sent me one of those Facebook quizzes that is totally rigged. Which Gilmore Girl Are You?

Clearly, I am Lorelai (the mother) - he turned out to be Rory. Which is probably the best outcome for both of us. Unlike the Chandler Bing fiasco, I knew from the outset that I would channel the chatty Gen- X Innkeeper from Stars Hollow with nary a pause for breath.

I taught a writing course a few years ago and spent quite a lot of time attempting unsuccessfully to persuade my class that the Gilmore Girls was the best-written drama on television. Ah well.

Afte the Gilmore thing, I tended to my city in the My City application. Despi…

Golf, Anyone? Polo?

The Volkswagen Polo


I’ve done a car-swap with a friend for a few days. I usually drive an old Toyota Townace van which is very handy for carrying loads. The friend has loaned me his new, white Volkswagen Polo. Naturally being an ageing Gen-Xer, rather than someone cooler and younger, I felt my masculinity compromised the moment I laid eyes on it.

Any vehicle this size is a Barina to me. A chick car. Your granny’s car. Who knew I had this kind of issue with gender and wheels? I’m shocked at my shallowness and insecurity.

Apart from the psychological damage that I’m feeling from having it parked in my space at the flats where I live, is the actual annoyance of driving it. For reasons best known to the Euro boffins at V-Dub, the wiper and indicator sticks are exactly reversed in placement from the Townace.

So as I take a corner, I either confidently flick the wipers to low or intermittent. Not cool. I was cursing this very problem tonight when I saw that I was following a Volk…

Walking in South Perth


As counter-intuitive as I find the notion, apparently ‘exercise’ can do you some good. So, lately I have been walking around the fair city of South Perth at a brisk clip. I say brisk, but my brisk is someone else’s 'Cliff Young shuffle'. But I have years of not exercising to undo. From little things big things grow, as Paul Kelly once wrote.

I’ve seen some unexpected things out there in Southy. (Keep in mind that I’m a borderline shut-in. I’ve only just discovered that the age of VHS is over.) On Labouchere Road, at dusk, I saw a taxi-driver kneeling on the verge, next to his cab. He had a prayer mat out and his shoes were placed at the top. A very common thing in some parts of the world, but not what I thought I would see while walking past the South Perth Bowling Club.

Down on Sir James Mitchell Park, I heard a woman take on a couple of male cyclists over their dog. She was walking. I didn’t catch the beginning but I did hear her saying, “You f**king moron!” …