I WANNA KNOW WHO TOLD Billy he wasn't welcome here any more. He hasn't been for the last eight days. Dad was it you?
My girl, come and sit down. Mum is bringing me a cuppa in a while and then the interrogations can begin.
No. You can't pull any stunts like last time. I want some straight answers. What exactly do you have against him, may I know?
Well. love, I can't stand looking at those rings hanging from his nose, for one thing. AND THAT MAGGOT HE'S GOT IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS TONGUE. How does he ever get to clean his teeth? The rings on his bottom lip must come in the way. He looks like a strange animal of sorts.
Oh dad, you're so.......so.......so harumph!
Ah, here's my cuppa. Ta, sweetheart. Cassandra and I are having a little heart to heart about our Billy.
Oh dear. I think I'll leave it to you two to...
Yes, Ma, run away like you always do.
Alfred, luv, what have you got hidden behind you back, little luv. Come and show Mummy.
Aw Ma I can't. Billy says only Cassandra is to...
Alfred, did you hear what your mother has just asked? Come here. Don't hang about the doorway.
But, Dad, I...
Give it to me, Billy. Dad is quite right.
Oh well.... they are only balloons so..
My God! What the...
Funny looking balloons, I must say, dear little Alfred.
Balloons be damned, Ethel. They are bloody condoms blown up like balloons. Billy's idea of a joke, is it?
Well, dear, it's at least safer using them as balloons. It could be a lot worse, couldn't it, Cassandra?
Ma...you are...ugh.....disgusting ugh!!!!
Friday, November 21, 2008
Coogee Beach - H. A. Renner
Coogee Beach is known as one of the last metropolitan undisturbed beaches south of Fremantle, or at least was one before development encroached closer and closer. Thankfully there are, up to today, no skyscrapers or houses close to the waters edge. The setback is far greater than in other suburbs. The closest building to the waterline is the derelict former Power House.
Coming from Spearwood, I looked for King Road from which, I knew from previous visits, would lead me to the Rotary Lookout, built in 1976 by the Community Association with help of the City of Cockburn. One of the reasons to build the elevated outlook was to enable handicapped people to have a view at Coogee Beach. Just before the highest point of the small road is a tiny parking area, from where a steep concrete path leads to the observation platform.
Looking over the stone balustrade towards the ocean was a bit disappointing to me. It was mid-morning and the cloud cover had transformed the normally beautiful blue water into a greyish colour. The sea was calm and showed no signs of boat activity apart from two larger vessels moving slowly from south to north. The slight haze didn't give me a clear view over the distant two islands. The trees, bushes and small dunes didn't allow me to have a look at the sandy beachfront either.
In front of me people had built three ugly square houses, I think should be better named industrial concrete sheds, at least from my point of view. Further down the hill I could see more appropriate developments of double and then single stories. Further towards the sea I saw cars and trucks rushing along the newly aligned Cockburn Rd. More to the South I saw the north-side of the western stretch of Woodman Point that ends as a white tip in the Cockburn Sound. On my right are a number of older style houses nestled among trees and bushes.
To the south of the Power House is the development of Port Coogee in progress extending over the seabed with boat pens, a millionaire's playground, very risky in our time of climate change with rising water levels.
Altogether I was a little disappointed, the old enjoyable atmosphere has gone.
Coming from Spearwood, I looked for King Road from which, I knew from previous visits, would lead me to the Rotary Lookout, built in 1976 by the Community Association with help of the City of Cockburn. One of the reasons to build the elevated outlook was to enable handicapped people to have a view at Coogee Beach. Just before the highest point of the small road is a tiny parking area, from where a steep concrete path leads to the observation platform.
Looking over the stone balustrade towards the ocean was a bit disappointing to me. It was mid-morning and the cloud cover had transformed the normally beautiful blue water into a greyish colour. The sea was calm and showed no signs of boat activity apart from two larger vessels moving slowly from south to north. The slight haze didn't give me a clear view over the distant two islands. The trees, bushes and small dunes didn't allow me to have a look at the sandy beachfront either.
In front of me people had built three ugly square houses, I think should be better named industrial concrete sheds, at least from my point of view. Further down the hill I could see more appropriate developments of double and then single stories. Further towards the sea I saw cars and trucks rushing along the newly aligned Cockburn Rd. More to the South I saw the north-side of the western stretch of Woodman Point that ends as a white tip in the Cockburn Sound. On my right are a number of older style houses nestled among trees and bushes.
To the south of the Power House is the development of Port Coogee in progress extending over the seabed with boat pens, a millionaire's playground, very risky in our time of climate change with rising water levels.
Altogether I was a little disappointed, the old enjoyable atmosphere has gone.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Life Is A Beach - Robert Halsey
I don't do beaches any more. I am past the age of surf, sand and sin. When I was young and athletic I did all three with....I nearly said "gay abandon" but one has to be careful these days how one uses certain words! So lets just say I did all three with great enthusiasm.
West Beach holds so many memories for me. It connects me with the past through many, many memories. West Beach has changed tremendously. We oldies all sigh with delicious sorrow at the passing of the good old days. Forgive the cliche, but it seems to fit in here.
Nearby and overlooking the dunes and the incredibly blue ocean is a stretch of deluxe high rise flats any one of which is available if you are able to throw around seven digit moula. From the balconies people can perve all day long. Which is known to occur.
West Beach is shaped like a slice of pale melon with a dark green outer skin. The pale melon is washed by the incoming waves of the ocean on which float the human detritus of hinterland on boogie boards and surf boards. Sail boards adventurously bob up and down at amazing speed when they are powered by powerful and playful offshore and onshore winds.
On the beach is a Peters mobile kiosk that attends to the thirsty needs of young and old who consume copious amounts of Coca Cola and never-ending supply of all kinds of ice-cream. Like flies youngsters clutter around as if that was the only reason they bothered to come down to West Beach.
But that' not why the endocrine lads and their sheilas come down with towels as large as bed-sheets. They need to be that large because the are required to hide their over-heated sexual games that are accompanied by either adolescent giggling or serious heavy breathing and moaning that reminds one of tomcats calling for a bout of feline romance.
There's always a certain amount of risk attached to serious sex play, apart from being loudly sworn at by some outraged granny doing her obligatory beach outing with a grandchild or two. The kids always turn to gran and want to know what they are doing, not that they really don't know. but it's such fun to watch granny turn red!
I vividly remember how once a stray dog managed to evade capture and came past such a couple heavily entangled and oblivious to all the world. I remember this so well. I just hoped it would happen. I crossed my fingers and drew the attention of my mates to what we all prayed so fervently hoped for. Well, our obscene prayers were answered by a playful God who also must have been waiting for it to happen. The pooch sniffed at the pile of sand and the towel then came right up to the lovers locked in passionate embrace and did a pee on them and then proceeded to kick sand to cover up its crime. The two screamed with annoyance - or was it anger - at their coitus interruptus. We hooted like lunatics and ran off to immerse ourselves in the water.
I dare say this culture still exists and vastly improved on, perhaps I saw no evidence of it that day, however.
West Beach holds so many memories for me. It connects me with the past through many, many memories. West Beach has changed tremendously. We oldies all sigh with delicious sorrow at the passing of the good old days. Forgive the cliche, but it seems to fit in here.
Nearby and overlooking the dunes and the incredibly blue ocean is a stretch of deluxe high rise flats any one of which is available if you are able to throw around seven digit moula. From the balconies people can perve all day long. Which is known to occur.
West Beach is shaped like a slice of pale melon with a dark green outer skin. The pale melon is washed by the incoming waves of the ocean on which float the human detritus of hinterland on boogie boards and surf boards. Sail boards adventurously bob up and down at amazing speed when they are powered by powerful and playful offshore and onshore winds.
On the beach is a Peters mobile kiosk that attends to the thirsty needs of young and old who consume copious amounts of Coca Cola and never-ending supply of all kinds of ice-cream. Like flies youngsters clutter around as if that was the only reason they bothered to come down to West Beach.
But that' not why the endocrine lads and their sheilas come down with towels as large as bed-sheets. They need to be that large because the are required to hide their over-heated sexual games that are accompanied by either adolescent giggling or serious heavy breathing and moaning that reminds one of tomcats calling for a bout of feline romance.
There's always a certain amount of risk attached to serious sex play, apart from being loudly sworn at by some outraged granny doing her obligatory beach outing with a grandchild or two. The kids always turn to gran and want to know what they are doing, not that they really don't know. but it's such fun to watch granny turn red!
I vividly remember how once a stray dog managed to evade capture and came past such a couple heavily entangled and oblivious to all the world. I remember this so well. I just hoped it would happen. I crossed my fingers and drew the attention of my mates to what we all prayed so fervently hoped for. Well, our obscene prayers were answered by a playful God who also must have been waiting for it to happen. The pooch sniffed at the pile of sand and the towel then came right up to the lovers locked in passionate embrace and did a pee on them and then proceeded to kick sand to cover up its crime. The two screamed with annoyance - or was it anger - at their coitus interruptus. We hooted like lunatics and ran off to immerse ourselves in the water.
I dare say this culture still exists and vastly improved on, perhaps I saw no evidence of it that day, however.
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