Dear Non existent Reader,
Apologies for the infrequent nature of my blog posts, I am a lazy bastard who gets all these great ideas at work and then comes home and drinks a red and does something else. Anzac Day was one thing I wanted to write about but didn't. How slack is that? I was actually at the Dawn Service this year with a mate of mine, Mark, and even wrote a comment on Tim Blair but didn't write jack here. Bloody hopeless.
There have been a few things I wanted to share, but for one reason or another didn't. For instance, my Gran is knocking on Heaven's door. Surely that is worth a few measly words? Someone who has existed for 92 years must warrant at least a paragraph right? The celebration of her life is soured somewhat by the stupid fighting of her children over what to do with her last days and what to do with the remaining assets. Some people need a good slap and I know of two I could line up right now. I hope I can write a proper eulogy when the time comes. It's not the sort of thing anyone likes to think about and I'm an anyone.
I've run out of steam so will sign off. Thanks for your perserverance dear Non existent Reader, I'll see you soon.
Catch you later...
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Bastards
Some days I just want to kick particular people in the nuts. Really hard. I have this shaved monkey at work that takes up oxygen on a daily basis, contributing the sum of his exhalations of carbon dioxide to the world. An otherwise pointless, annoying, primate that learned to use tools. Fuckwit. I may just kick him in the nuts tomorrow.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
World Superbikes Phillip Island - My Mecca Day 1
Let me just start by saying how sorry I feel for all the people who weren't there for one of motorsports great events. The weekend just gone started on the Friday for me and stretched out to a lazy Monday. In between I spent three, count them, three glorious days wandering around a track so full of charm and beauty it should be a heritage site.
For those who have never been to Phillip Island it is a place of simple, rugged, natural beauty sticking out into a sometimes raging Tasman Strait. About two hours by car (and just a bit quicker by bike) it's a pleasant ride down with varying quality roads and highways or detour and take in the twisties. It's a rural sort of place that takes in a handy income from being the site of one of the world's great race tracks. It reminds me greatly of Tassie and I always feel at home when I'm there. There is something special about being so close to the ocean, it's a vibrancy, a freshness in the air that absorb within you. I love the place.
A recent friend of mine, John Orchard, was scheduled to race that weekend in the Australian Superbikes, facing up to the likes of Krusty Ferguson. John works for the Benelli importer who have provided John with a bike to race, a tasty Tornado Tre in red. Having had the pleasure of briefly riding a standard version Tre and falling instantly in love, I was looking forward to a spectacle. As it was I had just arrived when John headed out onto the track for some qualifying laps. I chose to watch the excitement from the viewing area above pit lane, did I mention that I scored a pit pass for the weekend? Yes, I am a lucky bastard sometimes.
I did my usual wander through the AMCN tent to touch bikes I cant afford and buy my own small slice of the event. I walked out with a hat, the Faster DVD (truly excellent), a stubbie cooler (must have item) and some photos of bikes I plan to own when I win a million. The tent wasn't as well stocked as years past, not as many stalls and fewer bike brands but still a nice display.
The day itself was hot and sunny with only the smallest smudge of clouds across a light blue sky. I rode down in my leathers and was more than glad that I brought some shorts and sneaker to change into. The crowd was minimal, mostly bike crews and bike-tragics like myself. The hard-core campers had taken the best positions by the fence line and the orange overalled marshals made the most of any shade, what little there was.
I spent my time trying to soak up as much pit-side atmosphere as I could, probably looked the complete tool to the old hands, but with my trusty digital camera in hand I snapped away and rubber-necked my heart out. I caught up with John to see how things were going only to find out that he was suffering tyre and suspension problems. I noticed him getting blown away on the straights too so he wasn't too pleased. We chatted for a bit before I went to watch the SBK kings cut some fast laps.
A man who has languished at the bottom of the heap on a slow pig of a bike finally showed what class his possessed by posting the quickest time of the day was none other than Troy Corser, Aussie legend. Finally aboard a decent bike again he's on top of the competition once more.
I've got more to say about those three great days but right now I've got noone to see and nothing to do, better get to it.
Catch you later.
For those who have never been to Phillip Island it is a place of simple, rugged, natural beauty sticking out into a sometimes raging Tasman Strait. About two hours by car (and just a bit quicker by bike) it's a pleasant ride down with varying quality roads and highways or detour and take in the twisties. It's a rural sort of place that takes in a handy income from being the site of one of the world's great race tracks. It reminds me greatly of Tassie and I always feel at home when I'm there. There is something special about being so close to the ocean, it's a vibrancy, a freshness in the air that absorb within you. I love the place.
A recent friend of mine, John Orchard, was scheduled to race that weekend in the Australian Superbikes, facing up to the likes of Krusty Ferguson. John works for the Benelli importer who have provided John with a bike to race, a tasty Tornado Tre in red. Having had the pleasure of briefly riding a standard version Tre and falling instantly in love, I was looking forward to a spectacle. As it was I had just arrived when John headed out onto the track for some qualifying laps. I chose to watch the excitement from the viewing area above pit lane, did I mention that I scored a pit pass for the weekend? Yes, I am a lucky bastard sometimes.
I did my usual wander through the AMCN tent to touch bikes I cant afford and buy my own small slice of the event. I walked out with a hat, the Faster DVD (truly excellent), a stubbie cooler (must have item) and some photos of bikes I plan to own when I win a million. The tent wasn't as well stocked as years past, not as many stalls and fewer bike brands but still a nice display.
The day itself was hot and sunny with only the smallest smudge of clouds across a light blue sky. I rode down in my leathers and was more than glad that I brought some shorts and sneaker to change into. The crowd was minimal, mostly bike crews and bike-tragics like myself. The hard-core campers had taken the best positions by the fence line and the orange overalled marshals made the most of any shade, what little there was.
I spent my time trying to soak up as much pit-side atmosphere as I could, probably looked the complete tool to the old hands, but with my trusty digital camera in hand I snapped away and rubber-necked my heart out. I caught up with John to see how things were going only to find out that he was suffering tyre and suspension problems. I noticed him getting blown away on the straights too so he wasn't too pleased. We chatted for a bit before I went to watch the SBK kings cut some fast laps.
A man who has languished at the bottom of the heap on a slow pig of a bike finally showed what class his possessed by posting the quickest time of the day was none other than Troy Corser, Aussie legend. Finally aboard a decent bike again he's on top of the competition once more.
I've got more to say about those three great days but right now I've got noone to see and nothing to do, better get to it.
Catch you later.
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