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Monthly Archives: November 2009

from Waynes Word on Web, 02.11.09

With all the talk on “the” seven deadly sins lately, I just wanted to put in a good word for Sloth and consider some other animals we may be able to malign when it comes to mascots for unforgivable sins.

Take the cat, how full of pride is that animal? Proud of its appearance, proud of where it sits and pride exudes when it brings you a mouse. I think we should call the “sin” of pride, Catfullness.

How about anger, have you ever seen anything as angry as a Maltese terrier when they just see something they don’t like, yap, yap, yap, yap, yap??? We could call that “sin” Maltese Terrierness.

Greed; just a short trip away to the sea-shore and you can witness all the greed you want in the form of the little evil seagull. Just start throwing a few chips around and before you know it, mine, mine, mine, and mine. Blatant Gullness!!!

Lust, Rabbits, need I say anymore?

ENVY, try eating a chicken in front of a Labrador.

Maybe we can lump them all together and call them Humanfullness, but then again we would have to add a few more undesirable traits before we could go that far.

Anyway about those few words in defence of that malicious three toed creature that hangs around in trees and doesn’t do anything. At least it isn’t destroying the planet or exterminating species by the dozens and if it is guilty of anything, then so is the Koala and it’s getting stoned on eucalyptus while it’s sinning. So as a final thought, I think we should give the sloth a break and call the final deadly sin Koalafullness.



from Waynes Word on Web, 22.10.09

The sea, the sea; what draws man to the sea?
A hostile environment that others would flee
Possible engulfment to an oxygen depleted demise
A red flag to a bull but some would shield their eyes

Salt encrusts every molecule, abrasion to the flesh
Unbearable cold or a mind numbing, hydrating mesh
Of incompatible elements fused into a powerful force
So closely welded to the creator or life’s infinite source

We the corruptible creatures, so soft to the touch
Are drawn like moths to the flame of oceans douche
Willingly throw ourselves regularly into the turbulence
Of a living, breathing mass of force, without sense

Of purpose and of insane lust men drown in desire
For fame or for glory, for freedom or for hire
Some even get time to complete their course
While others eternally, woefully, rock back and forth

To the sound of lapping against the normality of land
Sailors in the depths of service, pay a bleeding hand
No possible compensation could hope to reimburse
A conscientious mariner for the troubles or the curse

Of a life, or a death, lived at sea in the bowels of hell
Rotten health or immortality await those that dwell
Things cannot compare with experiences gained
In the waters belched from the earth its self, not rained

Water under the bridge

from Waynes Word on Web, 23.10.09

Is there a light at the end of the tunnel?

Or do trolls bar your way

Do fortunes favour the brave?

Or bloody idiots keep them at bay

The metaphor is completely simple

And the meaning o so plain

You can travel the path before you

Or turn and take the train

Quite often the road is narrow

And maybe fraught with travail

But on the other hand, safe carriages

Can often leave the rail

So consider this when travelling

The roads of life’s possibilities

You can’t always predict

Which dog will have the fleas!

Shatter the imagery

Is there something blocking your way?

Spirits to watch and record every move

Suddenly, things are not so clear

The isolation is not that of a grove

Changing fortunes come and go

Below the frame another picture

Offsetting, off-putting the moment

Creating an atmosphere that’s unsure

This type of feeling comes and goes

With uncertainty of safety negotiated

Allegiances, pacts made, not honoured   

Leaves one to the ravages of fate dilated

Still, no use stopping now

It’s all or nothing this far in

Whether the air is fine or foul

Only time will tell, hesitation’s a sin

Emerge and see the way

Now the path is clear and the view pristine

No need for panicking or to run and hide

Clarity in vision and a peace of mind

Looking very different from the other side

Sacred sanity, smoothing every thought

Craziness has gone from the moment

Direct purpose has taken its place

Pasts uncertainties have been spent

Here we go off towards a goal

Striking while the iron is hot

Pitching the proposed plan

Selling that which once was not

Sunrise creates the morning glow

Bringing light to the world of possibility

Shinning down on endless paths

Where there was fear now serendipity

from Waynes Word on Web, 21.10.09

As any musician knows, to be in tune with the overall soundscape at all points in the proceedings, defines whether or not you should be allowed to perform with the band/ orchestra and what the appropriate frequency is, must be agreed to before harmony can be established. Why we do not consider this when administering our daily lives is a mystery to me.

If we are ever to play the symphony “Utopia”, presuming the perfect score could be penned and the adequately trained performers gathered, then a conductor would have to define the pitch, all would tune to, before tapping the rostrum.

So, while some would say, no amount of effort could ever bring about an idealistic society. I’m sure at some point in the past someone said the same thing about producing a collaboration which eventually led to the works of Mozart or Beethoven and they would have been right if the concept of concert pitch was never established.

Let’s all back the process which leads to an agreement on the harmonic we all should play to and worry about the part we can play after the first tap of the conductors baton, later.

from Waynes Word on Web, 16.10.09

Never has a vehicle served the ocean going hordes
As well as the red motored EH, to lash the boards
With a six pack of bodies and roof rack to match
Transportation to heaven or your favourite patch

Three on the front seat and three in the back
A boot load of wetties, towels and board wax
This was one legend you surely could trust
Even when down on power and filled with rust

No track in the land was safe from this car
The end of a journey was never too far
If two ruts were carved out in the hard sand
Chances were an EH had carried its band

Breakdowns no worries cause help was at hand
Every locality had its spare parts and a man
Who’d tape it or strap it, just to get ya goin’
T’was a labour of love they didn’t mind showin’

Yep the ultimate Aussie icon was the one to have
And not a lot of money did you need to save
To get you on the road and travelling towards fun
A sixty four Holden, would get the job done!

from Waynes Word on Web, 16.10.09

When I rode my first Honda Four
Nothing like it had come before
Reliability and performance plus
Super sports, without the fuss!

It didn’t handle and wouldn’t stop
But never the less, it hit the top
Sales and popularity, exceeding all
Pride cometh before the fall

Keeping it on an even keel
Required talent and that special feel
Remove the pipes and double stand
Four into one, the best in the land

Dunlop’s and a set of Ace bars
Then you could beat all the cars
Steering damper and tweak the shocks
Now ya talking, a ride for jocks

Bigger jets and filters that breathe
In a straight line others you’ll leave
But in the corners you’ll quickly find
The European will hold the line

Not to worry they’re twice the price
Filled with problems and raw avarice
This dilemma is a rave for some
But least I didn’t buy a Harley Davidson

from Waynes Word on Web, 15.10.09

Quirky things they are, these foreign imports to our land, yet so familiar to our culture you couldn’t imagine growing up without being in one of them, now and again. They are sort of up there, on the iconic scale, with Chinese food and French brandy. I had the “privilege” of spending quite an amount of time in this older model with no seatbelts, headrests, radiator or engine under the bonnet (that’s the hood for any American readers). As an added extra, if you hit a bit of a bump in a corner, the door would spring open and that’s very exciting if you don’t have a seatbelt.

They came standard with conventional tyres, which were also quite exciting when you were attempting a quick stop in the rain; considering there is no weight over the front end. But never the less with a few modifications like radials, a sandbags worth of gear in the “trunk” and some rope for the doors, I bravely travelled from Queensland to the snow fields of New South Wales for some early season skiing. Because winter began halfway there, I stopped at Coffs Harbour and wired the heater on full. This was the only time this extra was ever used and remained on till the return a week later and I must report, it all worked perfectly.

On the way up, and into the mountains where snow begun, the other cars were pulling over to fit chains to their tyres but not us we motored on all the way to the top car park and the chalet where we were booked in. It snowed that night and didn’t stop for the whole seven days. We all got snowed in and had to wait for the roads to be cleared before the cars could be dug out. Now, in the meantime, you get quite close to the people who are cabin bound and in this case it was about six four wheel drive loads of wealthier types than I was not use to hob knobbing with.

Anyway, as conversations go, things got around to arguing over which brand of 4WD was best suited for the type of conditions we were experiencing and I had to bite my tongue because technically, I didn’t have a 4WD. It was eventually decided it would be solved by a race to the bottom on the day all the cars would be dug out and I never did find out who won, because I was half way back to Queensland by the time they had thawed out their frozen engines and adjusted their chains.

Text: The X Mrs WWW (replies to a fishy tale)

from Waynes Word on Web, 14.10.09

When my husband spent some time
With his old man before he died
Dad’s wife came along for the ride
She was not much for fish or tides

They had lost touch along the way
A fishing trip needed to save the day
When the "boys" fled to be free
T’was decided she would stay with me!

We waved goodbye as off they went
I tried to ignore that hell was bent
Out came the sherries 1,2 and 3
Thought she’d be the death of me

We imagined them fancy-free
Laying comfortably under a tree
The sun shining down, the big fish biting
No women in sight to cause some fighting

Decided to jog to reduce the frustration
Along came his wife with great elation
In high heels and make-up she followed
Straining her knee and “wait” she bellowed

Missing “old teddy", she cried a loud wail
Until I thought I’d have to bail
But we hung on in and had a few laughs
With more Sherries and a couple of barfs

By Sunday arvo we were missing our men
Thought they’d arrive with Trevally for den
Boasting about “the one that got away"
And how they’d had a beautiful day

I hasten to say we were TERRIBLY wrong
There was no male bonding, not even a song
They came down the road as if in slow motion
The pair were covered in Calamine lotion

The weekend in paradise was all but lost
We were greeted with grumbles and frost
Phrases were bandied like "never again"
I guessed the experience, was not quite “Zen”

Mozzies and sandflies were never so savage
Pleased to be home, nearly saved our marriage
Teddy’s gone now, so the boat and trailer
And my mother-in-law is decidedly frailer

I’m sorry now their day was marred
By the ineffectiveness of Aeroguard
And if there’s a moral to this story
It’s "go and buy your next Dory".

With Love, K