Triumph For Sale

For Sale: 1 Triumph Speed Triple 2002 model *sniff*

12/ BRING ME A BEER! Yes, overseeing a site like this is damned thirsty work, and with well trained staff like Rachel on hand. there's nowt to fear dehydration-wise. With a beer at my knee and a near ready tent, I'm ready to RELAX!

Your host shows a bit of form as he posts a 11.554 @ 120 mph, Calder park last night. It's all for a forthcoming story I'm writing.

11/ Rachel can happily go about her day- trying to get me to confuse her movment with action. I didn't become a SHIT HOT purveyor of tent ERECTION knowledge by accident- no way. She needs to get the lid on the plaastic box, pull the wrinkles out of the floor of the foyer and GET ME A GODDAMN BEER.

Why you should never take a circuit racer drag racing.

10 in a series of 14

10/ Finally She closes the fucking car door. Sweet Jesus that was getting to me. You can see that Rachel is wondering about how the hell she's going to get that guy rope rigged and in the ground:

Use a fucking peg.

Knock the peg in with your shoe/hand.

DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, I AM MICRO MANAGING THIS SITUATION.
PS I don't like the dirt floor under the tarp. FIX IT!

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Step 9/ "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" As you can see here, dearest Rachel has pretty much screwed the pooch. If she's going to pump up the jams and kick them out while at it, then holy sweet Jesus, UNBLOCK THE FUCKING TENT DOOR! That old expression "what, were you born in a tent?" takes on frighteningly realness. If you were born in this tent, man would you be confused. Just getting out of the tent would be like being reborn. And rebirthing only really need happen once you realise that it's all mummy's fault.

Before I get complaints, these pics are in correct chronological order, it's just that Ms Rachel has actually taken down one pole and put up another. Just like a porn star.

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Step 8/ Comment: "NO YOU CAN'T PUT ON ANY FUCKING DIDO- LET IT GO!". Damn she's lazy and easily distracted with thoughts of crappy English singers.

While the foyer has started, it is, frankly, piss-fucking-poor. It's hanging off a single pole wilting like the national flag of Greenland (I assume this is a green flag, I also assume that the folk their have some sort of sovereignty and bicameral, or similar, system and on top of that have a flag that reflects the name if not the colour of their country. This may prove a moot point as I'm told Greenland is ice and Iceland is Green. So let's imagine the tarp is the Icelandic flag, which once again would have to be green. Ahh fuckit, let's pretend it's the Irish flag- but without the orange and white bits.) SO GET TO WORK AND GET THE FOYER DONE!

Wow, this is taking a long time... and I am getting thirsty.

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Step 7/ Tell Rachel to "Stop fucking crying about my laziness and get going with the foyer". *note sun angle getting very low. It could be dark any second now. Tell Rachel her bum looks... no don't mention the bum. Just concentrate on keeping. very. bloody. still.

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Step 6/ Having removed the MESS that was the fly FROM THE FUCKING GROUND Rachel neatly applies the fly to the tent. This process only takes four hours, 3 pints of blood and 300 swear words. WERD!

Hatton beats Tszyu

I've always had a huge amoun' of respec' for "Australia's own" Kostya Tszyu. I think he's spent some time as the pound for pound best boxer in the world- and he's just been beat in the UK by Troy Hatton.

Now there are plenty of boxers- some good, some awful, some rapists and then there are the greats. See When We Were Kings to see The Greatest when he was truly, utterly the greatest.

But back to Kostya. Winners in boxing are measured by their win/loss ratio. (Kostya is 32 wins 2 losses) But to be a GREAT boxer one must bring character and dignity to this great, yet troubled sport. And there is no better time to show your style than when you lose:

Hatton said:

"Kostya came up to me after and he said, 'you were the better man and you deserved to win', he said, 'if you ever need any help and advice I'll give you my phone number and I'll be there for you' and I tell you what, that's not a champion, that's a champion and a half."

Hatton beats Tszyu - Sport - theage.com.au

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Step 5/ Sure the tent is up (of sorts) but point out to Rachel that 1/ The camp looks like a fuckin' bombsite 2/ WTF did I say about my golf clubs!, 3/ CLOSE THE BLOODY CAR DOOR and lastly, it will soon be dark.

Tyre smoking fun...

After a cool-ish night in the tent- I was warm, Rachel froze, we headed off into the hills nearby.
There's no doubt in my mind that Mt Donna Buang is deserving of the title of "Melbourne's bogan mountain" but the ride over the hill to Healesville is a great mix of gravel and tar- the natural environment for the BMW. There were a couple of stops to try and remove clay in the mud guards from yesterday tomfoolery. It got so bad that I could smell the front tyre smoking... a trait not normally associated with the Bavarian Tractor. We stopped, pokes it with a stick, rode on only to stop again. It was right around tyhe inside of the front guard, and stuck like shit to a blanket.

We are now sitting in a cafe, listening to Don bitch about how hungry he is.
The Immortals bikie gang just rode past after what looked like a big night up in the bush. They looked slightly less than immortal, but you didn't hear that from me.

In the pub, in Warburton...

...indeed. I an hugely proud of Miss Rachel- She's broken into the low 12 minutes for putting the tent up. Awesome.

Don took us for a bit of dirty work on a few 4WD tracks. We kicked his arse of course and left him in our wake. But let me say this- that wet clay is gooey shit.

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we are off camping today with Donaldo y Margamarita so Rach will get to do more tent practice. This excites her a lot!!



Step 4/ Without looking or raising a finger point out to Rachel that the tent wiill only go up once she has all of the poles in situ.

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Step 3/ Read paper to ensure you are totally up to date. Ask Rachel to stop making noise about "needing a hand". Remind her the light will soon be gone. Tell her your golf clubs are not to be left leaning against the car- lightning could strike them and warp them or somethin'.

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Step 2/ Get rachel to peg the tent out but NOT let her use a hammer to get them in. Remind her it will soon be dark and that you are bored. Continue to hold "dorky chicken" look.

Tent pitching tips

I get a LOT of people asking me about putting up a tent:

• What's the quickest way?
  
• What pegs work best in sand?
  
• How far off the tent should the fly be?
  
• Which way should the door face?
  
• If on a slight hill- head up or down?
  
• How do I get naked girls into said tent (actually only Duncan asked that but I'm here to answer ALL issues...)

Well folks, these questions and many more will be answered with my new* series on this very blog in the coming weeks.

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1/ Get Rachel to put the tent out while you sit very still with your dorky chicken-wattle hairdo. Yell at her to hurry up and remind her it will soon be dark.


*Photos taken Noosa July '04.

I Have a Pink Bike and I Love It!

Soon we shall part. But to the most beautiful motorcycle ever produced: I love you.*



*Love as yet unconsummated

Cancer of the lying down...

Email to Christie Eliezer of Beat and The Music.com.au made a bit of a gaff, so I sent this:

Christie,


You said:

Rose Tattoo have revealed that co-founder and slide guitarist Peter Wells will be too ill to join them on their Australian (May/June) and European dates. The guitarist has been battling prostrate cancer.

pros·trate
tr.v. pros·trat·ed, pros·trat·ing, pros·trates

To put or throw flat with the face down, as in submission or adoration: “He did not simply sit and meditate, he also knelt down, sometimes even prostrated himself” (Iris Murdoch).

think you meant:

pros·tate ( P ) Pronunciation Key (prstt)
n.

The prostate gland.


My old man died from the latter, though he was the former when it happened...

Cheers

Tom