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Tag Archives: romance

Sticky beak

 

If only the beak had been on the other side ... if only he hadn't gotten himself so blurry

My best photo of an azure kingfisher so far, I have a lot of work to do on these.  They usually fly off before I can get my camera ready, so I’ll have to be a little bit happy with this.

Your mate has been busy and has a lot of work to do, so not much in the way of commentary today.  He has solved all of the world’s food security problems here.  I am a little surprised that he has gone all tabloid on us here and provided details of his own personal Cuban crisis ( a sultry night … a chance encounter … with JFK … you join the dots, but not on your screen, the ink may not come off).  He provides well meant advice on delicate family relationships here, but one is left wondering whether he understands what understands means.  He’s even managed to pen and publish a poem about adolescent longing and sunburn here.  True art.

Your mate was in geek boy heaven this week watching Shark Harbour.  What more could one ask for from a documentary – sharks, gadgets, sharks, cameras on sharks, satellite tracking devices on sharks, shark attacks, sharks?  I got to watch people at work who are absolutely enthused about what they do.  Your mate is passionate about very little (he is a plastic doll, after all, as evidenced by his gravatar), but he so likes to see enthusiasm in others.  It was odd, I was sitting there watching it (it isn’t gruesome) and I realised that I was feeling happy.  You have to realise that in my part of the world, reports of shark sightings and shark attacks are portents of Christmas, and I suspect there was a bit of childish enthusiasm bubbling up around that, together with some excitement about “safe fear” (that will not feel so safe next time I am at the beach).  Every Christmas holidays, the newspapers would report dangers and crises – funnel web spider bite fatalities, shark attacks, “Deadly blue ringed octopus found in children’s pool”, stranger danger, and brewery strikes, so that now emergencies give me a Christmassy feel.

 

 

 

 

 

I am the King

Its good to be the king

You may like to click on a few links and see what else your mate has been up to this week.  Your mate has felt very poetic, as well as very Erich von Danikenish.  He has carried out a thorough scientific but also poetic analysis of ancient astronauts and relationships with fathers here.  In a not unrelated vein, he has considered what car God drives and resolved all intra-religious bickering about the issue of evolution here.  It is good to get these things settled and out of the way.

Speaking of things poetical, there is even a ditty about Leonard Cohen picking is nose.

If you did not catch last weeks “Not Trevor”, you may be interested, given the almost psychic way your mate predicted the announcement this week by an Australian scientist that a solution to environmental problems in Australia’s Northern Territory may be to release wild elephants.

Your mate has given advice to a fellow about the marriage his parents have arranged for him.  Heartfelt.  Touching.  Emotional.  Check it out here.

Interested in China and martial arts?  WHY WOULDN’T I BE, MR CHIP? Exaccerly.  This week’s shout out goes to Nathaniel, who can tell you how not to get hit.

This week:  Watched Moon.  Enjoyed it very much, even though they used a forbidden idea.  Read “The Afrika Reich” by Guy Saville – the action keeps rolling, interesting but less plausible than Deighton’s SS-GB, but I get annoyed when I get to the last page and find there is a sequel coming, which is not really a sequel, but a continuation.  Reading “The Watcher” by Charles MacLean – certainly horror, and getting weirder.  Worth a read: “Things we didn’t see coming” by Steve Amsterdam.

Big Boy

Australian dragon

Hey Big Boy!

Found this fellow on my walk, probably a bit under a metre head to tail tip.

Nothing happening in Trevor land this week, however your mate ruminates about the nature of the universe and contact with ET here (if the editor will hit the right button and approve the post, come on Edgarberger you lazy bugger), and conducts a scientific analysis of homeopathy here.  The bad poetry continues here.  On a good poetry page, he has a chat about Dorothy Day.

More horrifying, your mate considers himself an agony aunt, and dares to give advice to anyone who will listen at WWJCD? (What Would Joe Chip Do?).  I bet this one won’t last long.  The first (and perhaps only) piece is inspired by Adrianna F, who lives here.