Saturday, February 13, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
The Christmas Party
Once up on a time Rodderick Blanchard had a lovely little house on a suburban street with a big back yard. He decided to hold a party - a Christmas party.
"Who shall I hold a party for?" Rod asked himself. Thinking "yes" I shall use the shortened form of my very long name for the rest of this fairy tale.
"I could hold it for the car club I'm currently the King of He mused to himself or I could hold it for the curry dinner club people," he thought.
He then grabbed a glass of ruby red current juice and wandered into his big backyard with the lawn and nice roses.
On the lawn Rod noticed a frog. A big fat frog. The frog croaked and then jumped away out of our story.
Then Rod had a 'Eureka' moment. (Man in bath tub discovering the displacement of volume, not the stockade type Eureka moment.)
"I could hold the party for both the curry and the car people."
And so He did. He decorated his back yard in the finest fashion befitting the style of the season and everyone came along and they all had a lovely lovely time. And here's the pictures from it . . .
Now this is Rod's big back yard. Big enough to hold a little car and several thousand 'borrowed' signs. Isn't it pretty!
At the party people talked . . .
. . . they posed for photos and smiled politely . . .
. . . they pointed at things . . .
. . . and drank champagne because that is a stoffisticated party drink . . .
. . . and posed for photos a bit more . . .
. . . and wore silly head ornamentation . . .
. . . and wore marvellous magical cloaks . . .
. . . that held secrets only the initiated could understand . . .
. . . and people tried to decipher the meaning thereof . . .
. . . and the posing people got in another shot . . .
. . . and people stood around and chatted and didn't complain . . .
. . . and much information, gossip and inuendo was exchanged . . .
. . . and the camera hogs stood in front of the camera again . . .
. . . and Rod met a giant . . .
. . . a very cute, hunky sort of giant . . .
. . . and . . .
. . . people looked on . . .
. . . and some saw the hazards ahead . . .
. . . while other were distracted by chatter and magic . . .
. . . and then people looked at things . . .
. . . and Rod pointed . . .
. . . and people ate . . .
. . . and they stood around . . .
. . . and they ate . . .
. . . and sat . . .
. . . and sat . . .
. . . and decided to not go over 30 . . .
. . . and Rod made a fine speech in which he said many things . . .
. . . and then some people decided to get into a car all together at once . . .
. . . and then they got out again (some visiting the chiropractor the next day) . . .
. . . and then they toasted to good health and a happy 2010.
And everyone lived happily ever after.
The End.
"Who shall I hold a party for?" Rod asked himself. Thinking "yes" I shall use the shortened form of my very long name for the rest of this fairy tale.
"I could hold it for the car club I'm currently the King of He mused to himself or I could hold it for the curry dinner club people," he thought.
He then grabbed a glass of ruby red current juice and wandered into his big backyard with the lawn and nice roses.
On the lawn Rod noticed a frog. A big fat frog. The frog croaked and then jumped away out of our story.
Then Rod had a 'Eureka' moment. (Man in bath tub discovering the displacement of volume, not the stockade type Eureka moment.)
"I could hold the party for both the curry and the car people."
And so He did. He decorated his back yard in the finest fashion befitting the style of the season and everyone came along and they all had a lovely lovely time. And here's the pictures from it . . .
Now this is Rod's big back yard. Big enough to hold a little car and several thousand 'borrowed' signs. Isn't it pretty!
At the party people talked . . .
. . . they posed for photos and smiled politely . . .
. . . they pointed at things . . .
. . . and drank champagne because that is a stoffisticated party drink . . .
. . . and posed for photos a bit more . . .
. . . and wore silly head ornamentation . . .
. . . and wore marvellous magical cloaks . . .
. . . that held secrets only the initiated could understand . . .
. . . and people tried to decipher the meaning thereof . . .
. . . and the posing people got in another shot . . .
. . . and people stood around and chatted and didn't complain . . .
. . . and much information, gossip and inuendo was exchanged . . .
. . . and the camera hogs stood in front of the camera again . . .
. . . and Rod met a giant . . .
. . . a very cute, hunky sort of giant . . .
. . . and . . .
. . . people looked on . . .
. . . and some saw the hazards ahead . . .
. . . while other were distracted by chatter and magic . . .
. . . and then people looked at things . . .
. . . and Rod pointed . . .
. . . and people ate . . .
. . . and they stood around . . .
. . . and they ate . . .
. . . and sat . . .
. . . and sat . . .
. . . and decided to not go over 30 . . .
. . . and Rod made a fine speech in which he said many things . . .
. . . and then some people decided to get into a car all together at once . . .
. . . and then they got out again (some visiting the chiropractor the next day) . . .
. . . and then they toasted to good health and a happy 2010.
And everyone lived happily ever after.
The End.
Monday, January 18, 2010
The Non-Beach Run
"And Lo and Behold Dids't the Qcar people Declare and Aver that they would hold a Beach Run in Mid Summer. They hopethed for a warm and Sunny Day but Yea and Verily it dideth not occur. And Lo the sun refusedeth to shineth and didst the Wind decide to bloweth and so didst the organisers say "Fuck it - Lets go to the pub" whereupon verily didst the Congregated Congregation go to said Pub and Delight in its Pubiness."
The Prophecies of McKillop Under the Influence Chapter 12.2 verses 14.666 - 17.834
As the sun did not shine and it was pretty cold so we decided not to go to the beach. We had met at Ruby's in Stirling and had intended to head to North Maslin's Beach for a sand castle building competition and a picnic. Instead we went for a magical mystery tour of the Adelaide Hills.
First stop was Mount Bold Reservoir. We arrived at 3.45pm and the gates shut at 4pm. We had a very quick stop, look and fag (for those interested in cancer sticks) and then headed off towards Kangarilla but not before being nearly closed in by the over-enthusiastic gate-keeper.
We then headed towards Meadows and Macclesfield where we de-camped and enjoyed a bevvy or two with the Three Brothers and their Arms. We also witnessed a fine architectural discourse on the building of a ruin from Robyn ably assisted by Julie. They were rewarded with spontaneous applause and they didst please our saint in waiting so much that a gift parcel containing her favourite tipple among other things did suddenly and mysteriously appear unto them.
From thence we took various scenic routes to the fabled magnificence of Chateau Glenunga where the picnic finally took place.
It's for sale - if you ring now you'll also receive not one, not two, not three but 1.6 million unwanted gifts. Call Alexander now on his mobile!
At Mount Bold with David and Julie and a bit of Lucy. Peter and Sal in the background.
"Poorly planned"
"Badly organised"
'What a shit run"
"Can't even get the weather right"
"Pfft"
Robyn, Peter, Brian and Sal exchange pleasantries.
"You draw first Clint"
"No you draw first Brent"
"Okay on the count of three we blow away that tiny red Eastern European Nikki cockroach!"
Brett didn't realise his drink was actually milk.
"Insert name here" ________ and Alexander smile knowingly.
The author of this in no way has Alzheim . . . What was I typing . . .
At the Three Brothers Arms.
Robyn and Julie present the biggest architectural project since the Burj Dubai.
Rod, "Insert name here" ________ ,Brett and Bryan enjoy the deck at the Chateau.
Din dins at the Chateau. *Add your own chomping, chewing and yummy sounds*
The Prophecies of McKillop Under the Influence Chapter 12.2 verses 14.666 - 17.834
As the sun did not shine and it was pretty cold so we decided not to go to the beach. We had met at Ruby's in Stirling and had intended to head to North Maslin's Beach for a sand castle building competition and a picnic. Instead we went for a magical mystery tour of the Adelaide Hills.
First stop was Mount Bold Reservoir. We arrived at 3.45pm and the gates shut at 4pm. We had a very quick stop, look and fag (for those interested in cancer sticks) and then headed off towards Kangarilla but not before being nearly closed in by the over-enthusiastic gate-keeper.
We then headed towards Meadows and Macclesfield where we de-camped and enjoyed a bevvy or two with the Three Brothers and their Arms. We also witnessed a fine architectural discourse on the building of a ruin from Robyn ably assisted by Julie. They were rewarded with spontaneous applause and they didst please our saint in waiting so much that a gift parcel containing her favourite tipple among other things did suddenly and mysteriously appear unto them.
From thence we took various scenic routes to the fabled magnificence of Chateau Glenunga where the picnic finally took place.
It's for sale - if you ring now you'll also receive not one, not two, not three but 1.6 million unwanted gifts. Call Alexander now on his mobile!
At Mount Bold with David and Julie and a bit of Lucy. Peter and Sal in the background.
"Poorly planned"
"Badly organised"
'What a shit run"
"Can't even get the weather right"
"Pfft"
Robyn, Peter, Brian and Sal exchange pleasantries.
"You draw first Clint"
"No you draw first Brent"
"Okay on the count of three we blow away that tiny red Eastern European Nikki cockroach!"
Brett didn't realise his drink was actually milk.
"Insert name here" ________ and Alexander smile knowingly.
The author of this in no way has Alzheim . . . What was I typing . . .
At the Three Brothers Arms.
Robyn and Julie present the biggest architectural project since the Burj Dubai.
Rod, "Insert name here" ________ ,Brett and Bryan enjoy the deck at the Chateau.
Din dins at the Chateau. *Add your own chomping, chewing and yummy sounds*
Monday, November 30, 2009
Rod's Long Lost Reverse Cycle Pics
Rod's tectonic Merc in front of the Harrogate Arboretum for the permanently lifeless.
The Skenic spot.
The Dawsley phone box artily blurred.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Robyn and Julie take us to the Barossa
On Sunday, November 15 run organisers Robyn and Julie made all the Qcar people get up really, really early to meet at a hot dusty park in Gawler. I believe everyone had to arrive at 4am. Can you believe it!
It was mainly hot because it was the last day of an official heat wave lasting for an unprecedented number of November days but a hand out of Chinese fans might have been nice! After a couple of tardy Mini owners arrived we all moved off in convoy and headed towards the Barossa.
Our first stop after a musical cars moment on Krondorf Road we headed up the little driven Nitschke Series of Pot Holes (that's its real name by-the-way) heading towards Jacobs Creek Retreat and a date with a garden and a cellar door. The garden was hot but lovely and then having taken . . . Ooooo . . . seconds to appreciate it in 38 degree heat everyone made their way hastily into the delightfully cool cellar door.
Inside we tasted wine - as is largely expected when one visits the Barossa and particularly a cellar door in the Barossa. (One rarely encounters Brazil nut tastings.) The delightful man behind the bar who served us said beverages told us all about the wines and winery, the name of which escapes me at the moment. Many of the wines were greatly enjoyed but I did see quite a few Mr Cabernet's Sauvignon meet Mr Spitoon.
Michelle examines the wine list very, very closely. After a sniff and a considered moment she decides not to taste it and picks up the moscato instead.
The on-lookers look on, lookingly.
Brenton tries out the hammock for a few seconds. The thought of spontaneous combustion from the heat of the day sees him find cooler surrounds with alacrity.
Making an entrance is very important and these three gents know how to impress.
"Today on the catwalk we have Clinton wearing blue polo shirt teamed with camouflage shorts - a classic, smart, man around town look that works well for outings in the Barossa. Next is Brenton in the faux American tourist look, loud but restrained, colourful and yet demure. Behind Jason struts the catwalk with poise and elegance. A round of applause please for our handsome models."
Listening in above . . .
"Murmur, murmur"
"Dreadful crap"
"Awful"
"Not as good as that stuff up the road I bought 23 years ago"
*wine maker does the rounds with one of his products*
"Yes, I'd love a top up"
"Lovely drop"
"Most pleasurable wine I've had since Aunty Mary's dinner party in '86"
Clinton and Brenton practice their synchronised wine tasting. It's odds on to be a new sport at the Rio Olympics in 2016. They will be well practiced by then.
Listening in above . . .
*giggles*
*more giggles*
For some couples true affection is shown through the deployment of the half Nelson. Here we see a truly affectionate couple.
If anyone has complaints about the above text or photos please forward them in triplicate to:
http://www.ombudsman.on.ca/en.aspx
It was mainly hot because it was the last day of an official heat wave lasting for an unprecedented number of November days but a hand out of Chinese fans might have been nice! After a couple of tardy Mini owners arrived we all moved off in convoy and headed towards the Barossa.
Our first stop after a musical cars moment on Krondorf Road we headed up the little driven Nitschke Series of Pot Holes (that's its real name by-the-way) heading towards Jacobs Creek Retreat and a date with a garden and a cellar door. The garden was hot but lovely and then having taken . . . Ooooo . . . seconds to appreciate it in 38 degree heat everyone made their way hastily into the delightfully cool cellar door.
Inside we tasted wine - as is largely expected when one visits the Barossa and particularly a cellar door in the Barossa. (One rarely encounters Brazil nut tastings.) The delightful man behind the bar who served us said beverages told us all about the wines and winery, the name of which escapes me at the moment. Many of the wines were greatly enjoyed but I did see quite a few Mr Cabernet's Sauvignon meet Mr Spitoon.
Michelle examines the wine list very, very closely. After a sniff and a considered moment she decides not to taste it and picks up the moscato instead.
The on-lookers look on, lookingly.
Brenton tries out the hammock for a few seconds. The thought of spontaneous combustion from the heat of the day sees him find cooler surrounds with alacrity.
Making an entrance is very important and these three gents know how to impress.
"Today on the catwalk we have Clinton wearing blue polo shirt teamed with camouflage shorts - a classic, smart, man around town look that works well for outings in the Barossa. Next is Brenton in the faux American tourist look, loud but restrained, colourful and yet demure. Behind Jason struts the catwalk with poise and elegance. A round of applause please for our handsome models."
Listening in above . . .
"Murmur, murmur"
"Dreadful crap"
"Awful"
"Not as good as that stuff up the road I bought 23 years ago"
*wine maker does the rounds with one of his products*
"Yes, I'd love a top up"
"Lovely drop"
"Most pleasurable wine I've had since Aunty Mary's dinner party in '86"
Clinton and Brenton practice their synchronised wine tasting. It's odds on to be a new sport at the Rio Olympics in 2016. They will be well practiced by then.
Listening in above . . .
*giggles*
*more giggles*
For some couples true affection is shown through the deployment of the half Nelson. Here we see a truly affectionate couple.
If anyone has complaints about the above text or photos please forward them in triplicate to:
http://www.ombudsman.on.ca/en.aspx
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)