Clint just sent me this pic, taken at the shops near our office in Hilton, so good. I'm kinda looking forward to getting one of these when I get old. Just so I can cruise around my local supermarket and make other people fetch me cans of beans from the high shelves, I think I'd also park mine across two bays, gotta avoid those scratches and dents from car doors ya know.
30 April 2010
PICTURES THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ALBUM COVERS # 4
Labels:
Album Cover
29 April 2010
365 DAYS WEEK 24
Week 24 of my 365 Day challenge was mostly spent excavating a small cave in the Hamersley Ranges, then a quick flight home to my own cave for some creature comforts
TAXI CAB CONFESSIONS # 16
I used to drive a taxi/cab. Why? I often ask myself that, it was a shitty job, but it got me through 2 years of university, so it served a purpose. I was telling a few stories from those days to a friend recently and it got me thinking that I should write these stories down before I forget them.Morons
I met a few. Over time I learnt to click onto and identify them before they made it to the actual cab. I also never left my doors unlocked when the cab was empty, I discovered very early on that you want to have full control over who does and who doesn't get access to my cab. Of course sometimes I let my guard down and they got in, once they were in it was easier just to take them where they wanted to go. My punishment for being lax was having to listen to their shit for the entire journey at hand.
I've had guys just sit there staring at me via my rear view mirror, do you know how unnerving that can be? It's like they hadn't managed a fight tonight so I was the last chance for a testosterone release. I never took the bait, it just wasn't worth it.
The biggest case of moron behaviour usually occurred during the hailing of my cab. People (and let's be clear here, people of both sexes) would do the most extraordinary things to get a cab to stop, running out in front of the cab being probably the dumbest and least effective method. But there were many many other styles laid before me over those few years.
I once found myself driving down a street only to find it had been barricaded off half way down with those green wheely bin rubbish bins, the ones we all have. It was obviously rubbish day in that neighbourhood so there was ready supply of them. These genius's thought making a fort of plastic and household refuse would cause a cab to stop for them. The reality being that once I saw this the bins was no friggen way I was stopping for anyone. I've seen a cowboy movie or two and I know what happens when you block the train line with trees, it never ends well for the train driver. So I simply drove up to the bins and pushed the car through them slowly. This of course meant even more rubbish spewed out from them and onto the street. I imagine the whole scene looked hilarious to an outsider, a taxi driving through a row of bins, fish heads and potato peels flying left right and center and a group of 3 or 4 drunken Einsteins running down the street after the taxi.
Guys encouraging girls to flash their boobs (this I admit caught my attention and would at least make me slow down some), throwing beer bottles at the cab (hmmm yeah not really effective that one, I imagine their success rate was fairly low) and simply standing in the middle of the street with their hands up in a "Stop right there" fashion are just a few of the many other ways I have been hailed. Which brings me to the most moronic attempt of them all.
Five AM ish on a Saturday morning, I'd been driving through the night having started at 6 PM the night before so I was pretty sleepy and looking forward to knocking off. I usually hit the city around this time as you could often pick up a fare from one of the hotels to the airport (Here's a tip for you, if you really want a cab in the early morning hours head for a hotel, that's where the cabs will be. If there are none ask the concierge to call you one, he or she is usually happy to do it because a) it's easy, just a button push and b) They'll be happy to see the back of your ecstasy popping arse just as soon as they can). And I did just that, I scored a fare from The Mecure Hotel to the Domestic Airport so I headed to the street.
As I got close (one way, two lanes, along Hay St) I started to notice something in the middle of my lane, my sleepy eyes eventually recognised it as a guy throwing me some raised hand stop the cab action. Next to him on his left was what appeared to be some flat cardboard boxes. Ha, I thought to myself, this dudes an amateur, you'll need more than cardboard to stop me fool, have you never heard of the wheely bin? I quickly decided to just drive over the cardboard and continue down Hay st. So I changed lanes and I was probably no more than 30 - 20 metres away from the cardboard when I realised that this cardboard stack was in fact another guy, a guy lying flat on his back across the lane and I'm about to drive over him. CHRIST!!!! I locked that cars brakes up instantly and thank whoever is up there I'd slowed down some earlier so as not to hit the standing dude in case he leapt to his left onto the cardboard.
I honestly can't tell you how close I was to this laid out guy when I finally stopped except to say I didn't hit him. I'm not so sure who was more shocked, me or the standing dude, who after a few seconds of situation configuration lent down and dragged his buddy out of the way, falling over backwards in the process. I just sat there staring at the two of them with my mouth wide open for at least 10 seconds before I snapped to and drove away yelling abuse at the two of them at the top of my lungs
My god!
So peeps I think there's a little something in this story for everyone, if you want a cab to stop for you just behave sensibly, wave him/her down and try to look as sober as possible, move away from really drunk people and never ever lay down in the middle of the road. Oh and girls, the aforementioned top lifting routine....yeah that works ;)
I've had guys just sit there staring at me via my rear view mirror, do you know how unnerving that can be? It's like they hadn't managed a fight tonight so I was the last chance for a testosterone release. I never took the bait, it just wasn't worth it.
The biggest case of moron behaviour usually occurred during the hailing of my cab. People (and let's be clear here, people of both sexes) would do the most extraordinary things to get a cab to stop, running out in front of the cab being probably the dumbest and least effective method. But there were many many other styles laid before me over those few years.
I once found myself driving down a street only to find it had been barricaded off half way down with those green wheely bin rubbish bins, the ones we all have. It was obviously rubbish day in that neighbourhood so there was ready supply of them. These genius's thought making a fort of plastic and household refuse would cause a cab to stop for them. The reality being that once I saw this the bins was no friggen way I was stopping for anyone. I've seen a cowboy movie or two and I know what happens when you block the train line with trees, it never ends well for the train driver. So I simply drove up to the bins and pushed the car through them slowly. This of course meant even more rubbish spewed out from them and onto the street. I imagine the whole scene looked hilarious to an outsider, a taxi driving through a row of bins, fish heads and potato peels flying left right and center and a group of 3 or 4 drunken Einsteins running down the street after the taxi.
Guys encouraging girls to flash their boobs (this I admit caught my attention and would at least make me slow down some), throwing beer bottles at the cab (hmmm yeah not really effective that one, I imagine their success rate was fairly low) and simply standing in the middle of the street with their hands up in a "Stop right there" fashion are just a few of the many other ways I have been hailed. Which brings me to the most moronic attempt of them all.
Five AM ish on a Saturday morning, I'd been driving through the night having started at 6 PM the night before so I was pretty sleepy and looking forward to knocking off. I usually hit the city around this time as you could often pick up a fare from one of the hotels to the airport (Here's a tip for you, if you really want a cab in the early morning hours head for a hotel, that's where the cabs will be. If there are none ask the concierge to call you one, he or she is usually happy to do it because a) it's easy, just a button push and b) They'll be happy to see the back of your ecstasy popping arse just as soon as they can). And I did just that, I scored a fare from The Mecure Hotel to the Domestic Airport so I headed to the street.
As I got close (one way, two lanes, along Hay St) I started to notice something in the middle of my lane, my sleepy eyes eventually recognised it as a guy throwing me some raised hand stop the cab action. Next to him on his left was what appeared to be some flat cardboard boxes. Ha, I thought to myself, this dudes an amateur, you'll need more than cardboard to stop me fool, have you never heard of the wheely bin? I quickly decided to just drive over the cardboard and continue down Hay st. So I changed lanes and I was probably no more than 30 - 20 metres away from the cardboard when I realised that this cardboard stack was in fact another guy, a guy lying flat on his back across the lane and I'm about to drive over him. CHRIST!!!! I locked that cars brakes up instantly and thank whoever is up there I'd slowed down some earlier so as not to hit the standing dude in case he leapt to his left onto the cardboard.
I honestly can't tell you how close I was to this laid out guy when I finally stopped except to say I didn't hit him. I'm not so sure who was more shocked, me or the standing dude, who after a few seconds of situation configuration lent down and dragged his buddy out of the way, falling over backwards in the process. I just sat there staring at the two of them with my mouth wide open for at least 10 seconds before I snapped to and drove away yelling abuse at the two of them at the top of my lungs
My god!
So peeps I think there's a little something in this story for everyone, if you want a cab to stop for you just behave sensibly, wave him/her down and try to look as sober as possible, move away from really drunk people and never ever lay down in the middle of the road. Oh and girls, the aforementioned top lifting routine....yeah that works ;)
You can read the other stories in the series so far by clicking the taxi cab confessions link under 'my essays' in the sidebar
Labels:
Taxi
COMING HOME IS THE BEST THING
Until I leave again, but leaving is a whole different feeling. I've just spent the past week in the Eastern Ranges (Part of the Hamersley Ranges) recording some cool sites and excavating a cave/ rock shelter. Not the best cave I've ever excavated but they're always pretty good fun (bad food and beige aside - see below). Now I have four whole days off before I head back. My biggest worry in that time will be whether or not to wash the butter off of the knife I used yesterday to butter my toast, I mean, the butter's still good right? No need to waste it yeah?
I love auto stitch
you may have to click on pic and then on all sizes tab to get full effect
you may have to click on pic and then on all sizes tab to get full effect
25 April 2010
AREN'T YOU THAT DOCTOR
Still in downtown Paraburdoo, where very little happens on a Sunday. There was of course some excitement this morning with the ANZAC day service. I had intended to go to that service but circumstances put paid to that, allow me to explain....
I've been to Paraburdoo many many times, my first ever work as an archaeologist was done from here. I know this town better than I know any other small mining town in the north west. and I most certainly know where to eat and where not to eat. That I know and mention this will become more relevant as you read on. Years ago when I first worked out of here I knew there simply wasn't anywhere you could really go to eat a good meal in this town. The main dining venue is at a place called the Rocklea Palms, it used to be run by a company called P&O Catering and so we nicknamed this dining room from hell Poons. You would NOT have eaten there if you had a choice, we never had a choice
I can still see clearly in my mind the moment where I was on my knees way out in the bush throwing up mid archaeological survey behind a tree. This happening had nothing to do with the stifling heat and everything to do with the food served at Poons. The moment I walked up to my first bain-marie meal at Poons and noticed the luke warm fish fillets and the lamb curry made from last nights leftover lamb chops I knew that Poons and I would be embarking on a long drawn out and vicious war. I am yet to defeat Poons, it remains my nemesis.
So imagine my surprise when I returned to Paraburdoo after an absence of five years to find that Poons had been refurbished, all of the hideous decor had been removed, a new kitchen put in and the bain-marie area tripled in size. Sure the dining area has the atmosphere of a public toilet, a clean toilet though and as a result just so very sterile. I suddenly had high hopes for the food, surely with this overhaul they will have improved the food? Yes? Well kind of, it's a heap better than it ever was but it's still nothing to write home about. I'll give it this though, I do not expect to be kneeling behind any trees anytime soon as a direct result of the overhaul, this is a good thing.
Naturally I now figured this would be a good trip, no gastro, no food poisoning, not this time, not for me, how wrong I would be....I had failed to factor in some outside influences, namely my assistant archaeologists. You see they had never experienced the Poons of old, they never knew of the mysterious blue dessert that came out night after night, a desert who's blueness we simply could not comprehend nor interpret. What could be used to make something THAT blue, even googling the words radioactive blue failed to give us an answer on that one. It would remain a s much a mystery as it does today. But I digress, these assistants naturally took a disliking to even today's version of Poons and insisted that we try somewhere else for dinner, seeing as the other options consisted entirely of the Paraburdoo pub counter meal and nothing else I was pretty much against the idea at the beginning....
Damn their ignorant logic, so to the Lounge Bar it was, five of us, like lambs to the slaughter. We ordered our meals and began the wait. An hour long wait as it turned out and sadly not one that ended with a "Well that was worth the wait" comment. Whilst we were waiting a local gentlemen who clearly enjoys a couple of drinks each evening approached one of the girls on our table and the following conversation unfolded....
Where the hell are our meals? Finally they arrive and....well the less said about them the better. I'll just make special note of the vegetarian lasagna that Adam ordered. Now don't get me wrong we fully expected to get a crappy meal, we even joked that they were right now crowbarring a serve of lasagna out of the deep freezer to give to Adam. I now know that you shouldn't joke about these things. I present you with Adams' vegetarian lasagna....
I apologise if you were eating as you read that, but even if that made you feel sick you're not feeling anywhere near as sick as I do right now. You see, as a result of us eating this food (oh let me explain that Adam did NOT eat that lasagna) I have been awake since 5am this morning with a dose of gastro. I am confined to the beige room (see below) for the day. I may have managed a ceasefire with Poons but in the process I acquired a new enemy in the form of the Paraburdoo Inn, now to be known as the PooDoo. My assistants will pay for this.
I've been to Paraburdoo many many times, my first ever work as an archaeologist was done from here. I know this town better than I know any other small mining town in the north west. and I most certainly know where to eat and where not to eat. That I know and mention this will become more relevant as you read on. Years ago when I first worked out of here I knew there simply wasn't anywhere you could really go to eat a good meal in this town. The main dining venue is at a place called the Rocklea Palms, it used to be run by a company called P&O Catering and so we nicknamed this dining room from hell Poons. You would NOT have eaten there if you had a choice, we never had a choice
I can still see clearly in my mind the moment where I was on my knees way out in the bush throwing up mid archaeological survey behind a tree. This happening had nothing to do with the stifling heat and everything to do with the food served at Poons. The moment I walked up to my first bain-marie meal at Poons and noticed the luke warm fish fillets and the lamb curry made from last nights leftover lamb chops I knew that Poons and I would be embarking on a long drawn out and vicious war. I am yet to defeat Poons, it remains my nemesis.
So imagine my surprise when I returned to Paraburdoo after an absence of five years to find that Poons had been refurbished, all of the hideous decor had been removed, a new kitchen put in and the bain-marie area tripled in size. Sure the dining area has the atmosphere of a public toilet, a clean toilet though and as a result just so very sterile. I suddenly had high hopes for the food, surely with this overhaul they will have improved the food? Yes? Well kind of, it's a heap better than it ever was but it's still nothing to write home about. I'll give it this though, I do not expect to be kneeling behind any trees anytime soon as a direct result of the overhaul, this is a good thing.
Naturally I now figured this would be a good trip, no gastro, no food poisoning, not this time, not for me, how wrong I would be....I had failed to factor in some outside influences, namely my assistant archaeologists. You see they had never experienced the Poons of old, they never knew of the mysterious blue dessert that came out night after night, a desert who's blueness we simply could not comprehend nor interpret. What could be used to make something THAT blue, even googling the words radioactive blue failed to give us an answer on that one. It would remain a s much a mystery as it does today. But I digress, these assistants naturally took a disliking to even today's version of Poons and insisted that we try somewhere else for dinner, seeing as the other options consisted entirely of the Paraburdoo pub counter meal and nothing else I was pretty much against the idea at the beginning....
"It's not any better, in fact it's worse"
"But you haven't tried it in years, it may have changed just like Poons"
Damn their ignorant logic, so to the Lounge Bar it was, five of us, like lambs to the slaughter. We ordered our meals and began the wait. An hour long wait as it turned out and sadly not one that ended with a "Well that was worth the wait" comment. Whilst we were waiting a local gentlemen who clearly enjoys a couple of drinks each evening approached one of the girls on our table and the following conversation unfolded....
"Um shhcuse me, aren't you that doctor that used to work here?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Aren't you that doctor? The doctor that used to work here? The doctor who tried to cut my throat?!"
What the f...?
"Err no that's not me"
"Ahhhhhh, well ya jish gotta aschhk?" "How bout a game of pooool then?"
"Yeah maybe later"
Where the hell are our meals? Finally they arrive and....well the less said about them the better. I'll just make special note of the vegetarian lasagna that Adam ordered. Now don't get me wrong we fully expected to get a crappy meal, we even joked that they were right now crowbarring a serve of lasagna out of the deep freezer to give to Adam. I now know that you shouldn't joke about these things. I present you with Adams' vegetarian lasagna....
I apologise if you were eating as you read that, but even if that made you feel sick you're not feeling anywhere near as sick as I do right now. You see, as a result of us eating this food (oh let me explain that Adam did NOT eat that lasagna) I have been awake since 5am this morning with a dose of gastro. I am confined to the beige room (see below) for the day. I may have managed a ceasefire with Poons but in the process I acquired a new enemy in the form of the Paraburdoo Inn, now to be known as the PooDoo. My assistants will pay for this.
24 April 2010
MY BEIGE LIFE
Currently working out of the mining town Paraburdoo in the north west of Australia and staying each night in the Paraburdoo Inn/Motel. A motel that is awesomely beige, both in its' design and its' colour scheme. I present you with the evidence....
WARNING BEIGE SENSORY OVERLOAD AHEAD
Let's begin with the outside of the motel itself....

Next we move to the bathroom with the beige toilet and the beige toilet brush

the beige soap dish

the beige basin, which is in fact a two tone beige as it has swirls of beige within

feast your eyes on the beige wall tiles and the stunning applied artwork

the mirror with the beige trim

and finally the bathroom floor

now we have the room itself beginning with the beige blinds

the beige tiled entrance

the beige bed lamp (note the awesome bedhead design)

even the bed spread is a variety of beige shades, are you feeling ill yet?

well think of me, I have this for a whole week - the carpet is dark beige with light beige spots

how good is my dark beige wood veneer air conditioner

and finally the latest in bedside music technology and a Gideons Bible (standard motel room issue)

it's a version of hell I tell ya

Next we move to the bathroom with the beige toilet and the beige toilet brush

the beige soap dish

the beige basin, which is in fact a two tone beige as it has swirls of beige within

feast your eyes on the beige wall tiles and the stunning applied artwork

the mirror with the beige trim

and finally the bathroom floor

now we have the room itself beginning with the beige blinds

the beige tiled entrance

the beige bed lamp (note the awesome bedhead design)

even the bed spread is a variety of beige shades, are you feeling ill yet?

well think of me, I have this for a whole week - the carpet is dark beige with light beige spots

how good is my dark beige wood veneer air conditioner

and finally the latest in bedside music technology and a Gideons Bible (standard motel room issue)

it's a version of hell I tell ya
Labels:
Archaeology,
Beige,
Motel,
Paraburdoo
23 April 2010
PARABURDOO SUNSET
Yesterday I opened the door to my beige motel room (more on the awesome beigeness of my motel room in the next day or so, prepare yourself) to be met with this incredible view....
Labels:
Archaeology,
Paraburdoo,
Sunset
22 April 2010
365 DAYS WEEK 23
Week 23 of my 365 Day challenge found me in the middle of Australia at Uluru and Kata Tjuta, then a few days home before flying up to the Pilbara again today. I'll be spending the next week excavating a cave in the Hammersley Ranges. Good times
21 April 2010
THE SARTORIALIST HAS HIT JAPAN
Possibly the most stylish blog on the web, The Sartorialist, has hit the streets of Japan. Some great pics of groovy young Japanese dudes and dudettes. Check it out here
Labels:
Blogs,
Links,
The Satorialist
AHHH THE IRONY
My brother Justin snapped this pic along the Bruce Hwy in not so sunny Queensland this morning
Love it
Love it
Labels:
Ironic,
Justin,
Laugh,
Queensland
I DO LOVE A GOOD STAT
Just noticed (a little too late) that I've had my 50,000th visitor to YeLPar since its inception back in 2005 - Christ where did those 5 years go? So I figured I'd go and check my stat graphs again, it's been a while....
20 April 2010
ULURU HAS ENGULFED ME
Just dropped in another slideshow, this time of Uluru (Ayers Rock)
click to watch and then click full screen again to get full effect. So big, so impressive
click to watch and then click full screen again to get full effect. So big, so impressive
STELLA, THOM AND FLEA
Big ups be to Stella for pointing me towards this clip and soooooooo jealous you were there and not me.
some awesome bass action by Flea right there
some awesome bass action by Flea right there
Labels:
Atoms for Peace,
Flea,
Music,
Stella,
Thom Yorke,
Vids
19 April 2010
365 DAYS WEEK 22
Week 22 of my 365 Day challenge began in the Pilbara, had a middle in the city and ended in the red center of Australia - Uluru.
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