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Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Musings on ANZAC day

ANZAC day has been and gone for another year and I had not really intended on blogging about it, but rather interesting articles by Christopher Bantick and Michael Leunig made me reflect on the deeper, darker side of Gallipoli and WWI.
Leunig:
"What sort of person volunteers to devote their life to the skills of destruction and the business of hunting, trapping and slaughtering humans?"

Bantick:
By celebrating Simpson before Jacka, we choose a sanitised Anzac history...

As Australia commemorates the 90th anniversary of Gallipoli, what is being remembered is highly selective. It is unlikely that the name of Albert Jacka will be recalled today and it is easy to see why. Jacka stood for all that in peacetime is not welcome.

Jacka, a 22-year-old forestry worker from Wedderburn in Victoria, was Australia's first Victoria Cross winner at Gallipoli. He attacked a Turkish position and shot five and bayoneted two more. But there are no monuments in any capital city to Jacka save one small memorial in the Garden of Remembrance in the Springvale Cemetery. Why?


Like the blog title says, I am Thomasr. Thomas after my maternal grandfather Thomas Hugh Sarre. Now ol' Tom (b 1890) was a WWI vet. He didn't go to Gallipoli as the 10th Light Horse (of which he was a member- "Trooper" Thomas H Sarre) was sent to the middle east to fight Turks and Germans in modern day Israel, Lebanon and Syria.

He fought all over the Middle East, was wounded (right through the right bicep) and was awarded the Military Medal for bravery. Now for those who don't know, the Military Medal is not far behind the Victoria Cross insofar as wartime medals go:

The Military Medal was (until 1993) a military decoration awarded to personnel of the British Army, and formerly also to personnel of the armies of other Commonwealth countries, below the rank of Warrant Officer, for bravery in the battlefield.

The medal was established on March 25, 1916. It was equivalent to the Military Cross which was awarded to commissioned officers and Warrant Officers.


Now old Tom went to his grave and never said why he got his military medal. He had several reasons:
"For being the best looking bloke in the whole bloody army"
"For saving Phine (the bride!) from being an old maid"

After he died, my mum and my Aunt got a copy of the book "Westralian Cavalry during the Great War". This leather bound book details all of the 10th Light Horse's actions and movements during the war in Gallipoli and the middle east and has all citations and medals listed in the extensive glossary. We found old Tom's citation and it reads as follows [click for fullsize]:

click for fullsize

The handwriting is a little tough, so I'll try to re write:
"Trooper SARRE on the night 29/30 Sept. (1918) was one of Lieut. GWYNNE'S troop which stormed the rocky ridge south of SASA. He was in charge of a troop hoitchkiss gun with which weapon he did considerable damage amonmgst the enemy. During the pursuit at daylight on the 30th he galloped his horse forward to close quarters, brought into action and shot the [unreadable] of a leading field gun hereby causing its abandonment by the enemy. SARRE showed conspicous gallantry and dash throughout the whole of these operations"

His service details:



Wow. He was 26 years old. Younger than me today. He killed many enemy. I went to the Puckapunyal Museum and saw a Hotchkiss gun in situ on its saddle/horse mount and it was a serious piece of kit- essentially it's a light machine gun suitable for the Light Horse. My Grandfather was in charge of it and it would seem he was very good with it and therefore killed many men with it. He carried this burden for 60+ years. The "shame" of having gone and done his duty- his ultimate duty- killing the enemy. Contrast that with Simpson:

John Simpson Kirkpatrick of the 3rd Field Ambulance has become the acceptable face of Gallipoli. As Les Carlyon pithily observed in his book, Gallipoli: "Out of the thousands who did heroic things at Gallipoli, he would be the chosen one."


Now if you want brave (and crazy), Albert Jacka is your man. A natural killer, a real soldier. Reminds me of the stories about Wyatt Earp. It was said that Earp was not the fastest draw in the old west, but he was cool under pressure. He would draw his gun, fire and not miss. What gets missed in the Hollywood versions of the ol' west is that scared men often missed...

If you thought Jacka's exploits in Gallipoli were outstanding, his actions in Poziers stands alone as the single bravest and toughest actions by an Australian soldier- ever:

As dawn broke after a night of nerve-shattering shelling, the men underground only became aware that an enemy attack had swept overhead when a passing German rolled a bomb down the stairs. The concussion in the narrow confines of their shelter was tremendous but Jacka was first to recover and he immediately dashed to the surface, revolver in hand. The milling Germans he saw from the mouth of the dugout were the second line of a successful assault. A nearby group of them were escorting to the rear 42 prisoners from the Australian 48th Battalion. Only seven men from Jacka's platoon had recovered from the blast and while many may have considered surrender a reasonable option in these circumstances, Jacka began thinking how he and his party could fight their way back to Australian lines. After weighing the options, he made a cold-blooded decision to launch his seven men in an attack on the 60 or so Germans who were there. No sooner had they jumped up than two of Jacka's men were killed and every other man was hit but they charged on and belayed the Germans with rifle and bayonet. Jacka himself was hit seven times. Each time he fell to the ground he jumped up again "like a prize fighter", he later said, and ran on. After emptying his revolver, he picked up a rifle and bayonet and accounted personally for some twelve or more of the enemy.


If a character in a movie was based on this bloke, you'd swear it was bullshit, I am just in awe of the man. Sure, Simpson walked up and down those murderous hills taking men to safety, but Jacka did all that and did the ultimate duty to boot.

He went on to become Mayor of St Kilda, the place I now call home. It's truly an honour to have even tenous ties to such a great man. In my minds eye he is clearly out greatest war hero ever. His was anti-authoritarian, brave, tough and little mad. Perhaps you had to be.

When he died in 1932 (mostly due to his many war wounds) all 8 of his pall bearers were VC holders like Jacka.

Either way give me the genuine war heros as my heros. War is hell etc, but mostly it's about killing and if we sanitise, we make it all seem fun and games again.

Just like the boys pre WWI- "it's nowt but a grand adventure..."



The hero with a gun or the one with a donkey?
The story of Albert Jacka
Being a Sniper is a Dangerous Job
The 10th Light Horse
posted by thr at 9:48 pm 0 comments links to this post

Saturday, April 23, 2005

Clem goes all Ralphish

In response to this and this I made this...:

Next month- "The bigger the tits, the better the reading" Who CARES!?! I LOVE IT"
posted by thr at 4:30 pm 0 comments links to this post

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

This is a test...

Well folks, this is the start of our trip in a sense:
1 We picked up the new (secondhand) BMW this evening along with some new boots and bits for Rachel.
2 I have set up my new mobile phone so I can blog where ever there is mobile phone coverage. I am just going to have to learn to use the phone keys like a damn pro.
We will start the countdown to departure soon!

posted by thr at 7:55 am 0 comments links to this post

Monday, April 18, 2005


Saw the top graffiti on the way home, took a camera pic, downloaded, fiddled and here is the result...
posted by thr at 6:10 pm 0 comments links to this post

Friday, April 15, 2005

Exhibition embarrassment for Kawasaki’s Alex Hofmann

The Portuguese Grand Prix got off to a painful and slightly embarrassing start for Kawasaki's Alex Hofmann when the 24-year-old German crashed his Ninja ZX-RR during an exhibition ride at Estoril's seafront Casino on Wednesday afternoon.


This is the guy who replaced Andrew Pitt in the factory Kawasaki MotoGP team, has shown nothing in the racing- his team mate Nakano is a top 5 contender this year and meanwhile Hoffman is going to be battling the lowly WCM team. I had no time for him when he took Pitt's seat (Team manger German, new rider German- go figure!), and this just cements my view that he's a clown and way way out of his depth.

Alex Hoffman- clown prince of MotoGP
posted by thr at 3:04 pm 0 comments links to this post

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Nigeria- great for big corporations

Apart from the total inability of the Nigerian government to stop the old "help me get this money out of the country" scam, they are also unable to get out of bed with the various oil companies turning their country into a wasteland- economic, environmental and human rights.

Australian (ABC) reporter Eric Campbell and his cameraman have been arrested:
Campbell said they approached armed police officers guarding bulldozers that were destroying mud brick and corrugated iron shacks housing more than 5,000 people near the Agip Waterside neighbourhood, and asked if they could film.

Instead they were arrested, Campbell said.
Eric Campbell is an extremely well respected reporter who has been through every reporters nightmare- the death of one of their team:

ERIC CAMPBELL: Earlier today we got word that an Ansar Islam base to some fundamentalists in Kurdistan had come under attack from US warplanes last night, and had been overrun by Kurds. So all the journalists here basically headed down on mass to this base. It seemed fairly quiet and Paul and I went up into the captured base to do some filming. There were some remnants of Ansar about a kilometre away beyond the checkpoint, and at one stage we heard some machine gunfire, so we ducked down behind the trench and then later we're told that it had just been some Kurds firing, firing bullets in victory.

Then we finished filming and went down and we were just packing up the car and about to go and Paul was getting one last shot of [pause] getting one last shot of some Peshnigas [phonetic] who were running towards the base and he walked about 15 metres in front of me to get this shot and a taxi just screamed up beside him and exploded, and we were thrown back and Paul was dead, and…
Back to dear old Nigeria:
The Movement for the Survival of Ogoni People has criticised the month-long demolitions ordered by the state government, saying they unduly target shanty towns inhabited by the Ogoni ethnic minority.
The Ogoni minority in Nigeria have been and the blunt (or pointy) end of Nigerian domestic policy for many years. Sometimes the government has really done a number on them:
The movement was founded by activist-writer Ken Saro-Wiwa, who was executed along with eight others by Nigeria's former military government in 1995.
It's my feeling that this execution (which caused me to stop using Shell products for a while- my hypocrisy has boundaries) to a degree kicked off the modern Corporation Hate we so often see. While I don't personally think that Nike or McDonalds are exactly public enemy number one- Shell's behaviour at the time was appaling (rather by omission rather than act). And it's not just in Nigeria: [from: http://www.shell.com/home/royal-en/html/iwgen/tellshell/thread12/Thread.htm ]
I am joining the growing chorus of civil rights, human rights, and environmental organizations that will continue to support the Diamond citizens' struggle for freedom. Your corporation is fast becoming the poster child for environmental justice, recalling the status of Shell as an international human rights pariah for its actions in Nigeria. Shell's disregard for the Diamond community adds another shameful chapter to the history of this corporation, following on the heels of Shell's destruction of Nigeria's Ogoni community and the corporation's complicity in the murder of Ken Saro Wiwa.

The last word should go to someone else:
We all stand before history. I am a man of peace, of ideas. Appalled by the denigrating poverty of my people who live on a richly endowed land, distressed by their political marginilization and economic strangulation, angered by the devestation of their land, their ultimate heritage, anxious to preserve their right to life and to a decent living, and determined to usher to this country as a whole a fair and just democratic system which protects everyone and every ethnic group and gives us all a valid claim to human civilization, I have devoted my intellectual and material resources, my very life, to a cause in which I have total belief and from which I cannot be blackmailed or intimidated. I have no doubt at all about the ultimate success of my cause, no matter the trials and tribulations which I and those who believe with me may encounter on our journey. Nor imprisonment nor death can stop our ultimate victory.

I repeat that we all stand before history. I and my colleagues are not the only ones on trial.

Shell is here on trial and it is as well that it is represented by counsel said to be holding a watching brief. The Company has, indeed, ducked this particular trial, but its day will surely come and the lessons learnt here may prove useful to it for there is no doubt in my mind that the ecological war that the Company has waged in the Delta will be called to question sooner than later and the crimes of that war be duly punished. The crime of the Company's dirty wars against the Ogoni people will also be punished.
- Ken Saro-Wiwa, addressing the court after his death sentence.


Greenpeace's Website about Ken Saro-Wiwa
Shell's webpage about Nigeria
Death of ABC cameraman in northern Iraq
Do a Google serarch and learn about what happened to Ken Saro-Wiwa
The Age- Nigerian police arrest Aust reporters
posted by thr at 9:37 am 0 comments links to this post

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

This does not help...

Like many Australians, I am very concerned about the arrest and trial of Schapelle Corby. But the clowns who did this are not freakin' well helping:
The federal government has moved to reassure Indonesia following a threat to kill staff at the country's Perth consulate unless Australian Schapelle Corby is freed from a Bali jail.
Police are investigating the threat to Indonesian consulate staff, believed to have been made in a letter which also contained two bullets.

"If Schapelle Corby is not released immediately you will all receive one of these bullets through the brain," The Australian newspaper quoted the letter as saying.

"All Indonesians out now - go home you animals."

This is not the way to "fight" for her freedom moron...

Death threat damaging to Corby: Downer - National - www.theage.com.au
posted by thr at 7:14 pm 0 comments links to this post

Monday, April 11, 2005

Round Oz on a motorcycle- without killing each other...


Rachel is the proud owner of "Bavarian Tractor"- a BMW R1100 GS. It's a '94 model, red (the picture is NOT the actual bike- we don't get it until Saturday), has three boxes (panniers, topbox), crash bars, driving lights and so on.

So why have we bought such a vehicle?
Rachel and I are off around Australia in late July for an as yet undecided period. The map you see here is our current (rough) plan. Promises to be fun, mad, tiring, frustrating and hopefully triumphant.
Here are the places we are going (these are what I will call the "legs" we plan to cover)
1/ Melbourne to Horsham/Lake Eyre
2/ Lake Eyre/ Ayers Rock / Alice Springs
3/ Eastern NT, sou west QLD to Rockhampton
4/ Rocky to Cape York and then back To Weipa.
5 Ferry from Weipa to Karumba
6/ Korumba to Darwin and Kakadu
7/ Kakadu to Kimberlies
8/ Kimberlies way way down the WA coast to Perth.
9/ Perth to Adelaide
10/ Adelaide To Melbourne

Related Links So, you bought a BMW R100GS eh?
Around Australia the Hard Way in 1929
Bikestay in Australia
www.horizonsunlimited.com- The BEST, most comprehensive site Just reading the Newsletter should get you on a bike!! (perhaps not)
posted by thr at 6:19 pm 2 comments links to this post

Thursday, April 07, 2005

Top 10 Most Ridiculous Black Metal Pics of All Time- RUTHLESS REVIEWS

Death Metal. Nope, don't quite get it. This list of pics really shows why it's so fucking lame. Faux tough, uber closet gay and compellingly funny. As noted in the review, the bloke below is carrying an axe that looks more like the Bat Signal than an axe, while trying to look tough WITH HIS FUCKING FLY OPEN!!!

Top 10 Most Ridiculous Black Metal Pics of All Time- RUTHLESS REVIEWS
posted by thr at 9:06 am 0 comments links to this post

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Closer to bald than hairy


Ken Wootton's bald spot for all to see.
posted by thr at 11:09 am 0 comments links to this post

CamperVus- fun for all of us! WSBK weekend

Thanks to Mr Sam O'Loughlin Maclachlan of AMCN fame, Mr Tricky and I had rather fine tickets to the World Superbikes at The Island for the Saturday and Sunday (2nd, 3rd April). ("The Island" is uber cool speak for "Phillip Island").

WSBK (this is uber cool speak for World Super BiKes) is a production based race series for 1000cc machines, as opposed to MotoGP which is prototype based. WSBK has a one tyre maker rule (Pirelli) and they have two races on the day. The support class- the Supersport category- is for 600cc 4 cyl machines (750 twins- but lets not piffle, and don't ask why the twin 1000cc machines compete against 4 cyclinder 1000cc bikes...). The Supers are about 3% slower than MotoGP, so still lotsa fun.



Tricky in front of the now famous $100 van. Please ignore what he's doing with his "good" hand. Thank you

Beyond the heady environ of WSBK races, Sam had foolishly been suckered into a semi factory ride on a Kawasaki ZX10 in the Australian series. A few years ago he nearly won the Superstock category (for C and D graders) but now found himself in the heady A and B grade premier class of Australian Motorcycle racing.

All this excitement awaited us, but first we had to get there. I wanted to ride down, but Mr Tricky has an "angry hand" (ask him- not me) and can't really wear gloves and further the Speed Triple has a busted second gear AND lastly Mr Tricky is frightened by my second-gear stand-up wheelies on his beloved R1150GS. The wash up was he wanted to take his $100 ex Terry Hammond cycles van instead. In a strange way this was the right decision. I'm not talking about the comfort and convenience of a van, but the fashion statement that such a vehicle makes. Sometimes being so horribly uncool goes full circle- right back to cool. We almost made it back to cool.

So we hit the road south. Cruising along at 80-90km/h (foot flat to the floor) being passed by old ladies in brown Toyota Crowns has its charms for the first two or three hours, then gets a touch tedious. Being passed by a clapped out CB 250 was the last straw, but Tricky has not quite sorted out the Nitros kit for the van, so we kept on keeping on. The hours wore on, we grew tired, eventually we were out of Cranbourne on our way to The Island. (There I go again with that cool speak!)

Despite Tricky looking more like a bikie than a mechanic, we got our passes and went trackside. First shock: Mr. T went straight to trackside rather than barside. He was evidently keen to have a look at the riding. Was this the same man who'd missed all of the F1 racing a few years ago only to wind up naked outside his house with no wallet or mobile phone, scratching at the door like a cat? No, and yet YES.




Sam in pit lane for race 1, Australian Superbikes. Any blurring is from his shaking, not mine.


We ambled over to the Aust. Supers pit area and found Sam chatting to some chubby red headed kid who was keen to give him a few tips. Tricky said words to the effect of "Who does that kid think he is?" or sumsuch. To whit I replied "That, my foolish friend, is Adam Fergusson." To whit he replied "Who the hell is Adam Fergusson...?"

Adam Fergusson is the reigning Australian Superbike and Supersport champion, a factory Honda rider and former AMA (US supers) racer. That's who.

Tricky was suitably chastened, though secretly I think he was quote proud of his ignorance. Adam was giving Sam some advice on how to take on Lukey Heights. It seems he goes very wide and doesn't apex until 2/3 of the way through. Handy stuff, but Sam (by his own admittance) is a better racer than qualifier and the "handy" words might have been better the day before qualifying rather than the day after it. Helpful advice completed, Krusty (Adam's nickname- not sure whether I'm on a nickname basis just yet) told Sam that by his reckoning, he was 10 seconds a lap quicker and it was a ten lap race. With a Sam's laptime around 1:40 (100 seconds) this meant Adam would lap Sam at the chequered flag and do unmentionably awful things to him as he did so. It turned out that indeed he and Sam would hit the finish line together, but not quite the way he had planned...

The fat kid from "Hey Dad!" telling Sam how to ride. Sam shows his thanks by showing him how to play the "air saxophone".


Helpful advice aside, Sam wasn't quite himself. Facing the biggest, craziest, hideous, dangerous, scariest and potentially embarassing challenge of his life had him strangely on edge. After checking the time on his mobile for the 20th time in 10 minutes, it was evident he needed to have 4 wees, a spew, a 50 paper-sheet pooh, a spew-wee and some time alone. We refused to oblige. I made fun of him till he had a murderous look in his eye and a wrench in his hand. Only then we left.

Spending almost the whole day above the pits was very frickin' choice. We saw the start of Sam's races, and got the details and subtle behind-the-scenes stuff that television cannot possibly get across to the interested punter. My favourite moment was watching Ducati Supersport rider Berta preparing to go out for final qualifying. His team manager removed the front paddock stand and held his fist in Berta's face and said "Forza, FORZA!"- "Strong, STRONG!". It may have looked inspirational, but Berta qualified way down and then fell off around lap 3 in the actual race next day. "Fate attenzione molto catso" might have been a better angle- "Be very careful dickhead!".

Race 1 in Oz supers was a cracker. Sam got a flyer- showing that practising starts a lot can pay dividends. (His job requires lots of standing start acceleration tests) Motorcycle racing has a lot more passing and counter passing, but nailing 6+ guys off the start as Sam did in both races means that faster per-lap riders had their work cut out for them. I'm thinkin' with my drag racing experiences, maybe I could get a holeshot... and then get hammered before Honda and lapped before Lukey.
Tricky checks out the action on the Saturday. Actually he's looking for pit bitches. The truth can only now be told.

But thank the Goddess Sam can corner as well. Despite ohhh, 170 rear wheel horsepower trying to spit him off at every opportunity, he took his awesome start and kept the lap times consistent AND nearly caught Adam Fergusson who had been lapping rather slowly after his tyre lost a chunk (despite him saying it had "slipped on the rim"- which frankly sounded like a gay sex thing). Sam missed beating him by a bike length (might have been more, but this is my story), but more disturbingly missed the chance to elbow him in the kidneys. I was keen to give Adam a gob full, but once he removed his helmet he looked like he could take me out or hit me with something metallic like the team truck. I'd already told him "The pen is mightier than the Fireblade" and was feeling pretty full of myself. No suprise there.

Apart from the 45 knots of northerley wind messing with us, the weather was sunny and warm. We should have gone home while we were young and pretty. The afternoon's highlight (for me) was meeting Dieter from "The C Word". I asked him who he was following this year (the Ten Kate Team) and wondered aloud whether the good luck they brought Aussie wildcard Josh Brookes who won the World Supersport race while being stalked by the lads from the C Word could strike twice. It did. Charpentier won the Supersport, but Muggers and Vermuelen had mixed results in the WSBK races.

Saturday night was coming on fast and Tricky went insane. It's too easy to say it was a bit "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" but, fuck me, it was. Trickster wanted to go into Cowes and get totally wasted and then get someone to drive us to a secluded lane and sleep there. This was pure Tricky bollocks-speak. He wanted me to drive and then... it doesn't bear thinking about.



Smile Foggy, you miserable old bugger. Tricky made me take so many pics of this sad old bastard, I have to put one up. What is it with the Poms and Foggy? Not like he's Mick Doohan or nuthin'


Luckily I recalled a sneaky vacant block opposite the house we'd rented in Cowes for MotoGP '04. Big, grassed, with a few trees for shelter it seemed a perfect spot for two healthy hetro men to sleep in a van together and do unmentionably dreadful things to each other with a range of polycarbonate products and non surgical lubricants. Tricky got the billy going and we had herbal tea and sat in the van till it got dark. Angry bats were in the air. The Trickster was in form, make that informed of a growing hunger and we stumbled off into the black night. The "black night" phrase may seem a cliche, but it was very dark- so dark Mr T insisted we check out a rather interesting camper/bus. I called it a "CamperVus" because I kinda developed a speech impediment. Turns out the "revolutionary" CamperVus was in fact trellis on a fence. This "trellis-not-a-bus" situation was not realised until dawn. We ate at a pizza joint after a 4 hour wait and a few beers. It should be noted that we were not in a fit state to be left waiting in that matter. We had pressing issues that required we be fed immediately and voluminously. Finally the pizzas arrived and they were inhaled like a footballer doing a line of speed.

The less said about the night in the van together the better. It felt like I was having an 8 hour full body MRI scan in a monkey's sauna. The fact that I was the one making it smell like a monkey's sauna is largely irrelevant and the true details remain sketchy. I do recall threats- physical threats against my person in the event I "broke wind" again, but I challenge anyone to eat and drink the crap trackside food we'd had and NOT play the trouser trumpet till dawn.

The weather had turned on us like one of my ex girlfriends (though thankfully we woke to find our underwear had not had the crotch cut out- so it wasn't quite as angry as one of my ex's). We were exuding a rather masculine aroma and lacked the basic facilities to remove said odour. I choose to stand in the rain in my jocks and soap up once wet- make that once damp. Worked for me, but Tricky considered it either disturbing, erotic or both. No, wait... just disturbing.

Tricky had decided to remain horizontal while I piloted the van into Cowes for brekky. An old bloke from next door had heard us carrying on (Tricky: "Put your CLOTHES BACK ON!" me: "No, there's still soap on my nuts!") and came out to give us a serve for camping (illegally) on the vacant block.




Sun sets on day 1. Goddamn I'm arty.


Wrong. More like this:

"Pity I didn't see you blokes last night, coulda parked in the driveway... and had a proper shower"

Oh fuck, thinks I. "Yeah, right, err cheers" and the bloke gives us a wave with a "See youse at the track" and then the old bastard laughed.

Bacon and egg rolls added to the ever ripening bowel situation and the rain added to the feelings of impending doom. I could tell you all about the racing, but you can read that elsewhere. Sam's race was cancelled, it was 50 knots outta the west and the only thing missing was Barry Sheene introducing it as "gateway to hypothermia". Tricky wanted to retire to the warmth and dryness of the van once race 2 in WSBK was red flagged due to rain. I indicated to him that full wet weather racing can be rather entertaining. He indicated that I could take watching the racing in the rain and stick it up my arse. I indicated he was a goddamn piker and a dickhead if he was going to go go home now when it was just getting exciting and he indicated it was his van and I indicated that he could stick his van up HIS arse and he indicated... You get the idea. The upshot was that by the time we had finished arguing, the riders were on the grid for the restart. Corser won after the Duckworth/Lewis system was applied, Kagayama entertained all by sliding rain tyres all over, turn eight was an impromptu pitstop (everyone crashed there) and Regis Laconi did a headstand-with-twist into front-number-kiss onto grass onto arse. If he'd gone any further he could have got a chicken and chips pack while lying on his bike. Stirring stuff. Roll on MotoGP...

See a video of Sam starting Race 1.
posted by thr at 11:08 am 0 comments links to this post

Monday, April 04, 2005


Ok, after going nuts, here are all of the Southpark people I have created. this is weird... and fun
posted by thr at 5:13 pm 0 comments links to this post


Rachel as a Southpark character...
posted by thr at 11:33 am 0 comments links to this post


If I was in Southpark...
posted by thr at 11:32 am 1 comments links to this post

 
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