• The Pig’s Arms
  • About
  • The Dump

Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle

~ The Home Pub of the Famous Pink Drinks and Trotter's Ale

Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle

Author Archives: Therese Trouserzoff

Music for Pleasure 10

09 Sunday Sep 2018

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Algernon

≈ 13 Comments

Music for pleasure volume 10

…and Chuck Connors as “The Rifleman”

Playlist by Algernon

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JDG2m5hN1vo

Chain – Fleetwood Mac

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6AH_mb2Mg_I

Symptom of the universe – Black Sabbath

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRHtZpv2tfI

Just let me go – Darren Middleton

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=55ak4ubAbIY

Little sister – Elvis Presley

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LTGGb2VUmGg

Zeroes – David Bowie

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cR4k4bxnhaE

Stolen car – Beth Orton

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X5hMBxYqq5c

Fool’s Errand – Fleet Foxes

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DW3pZjmS3rg

Planet Caravan – Black Sabbath

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3028oDEKZo4

21stCentury Schizoid Man – King Crimson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ifriiv3DIw8

The Jezebel Spirit – Brian Eno and David Byrne

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KVMyXDsadLQ

Crystal – New Order

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XTbX7Szjrxg

Entitlement Crew – The Hold steady

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1hBWBVVFA4c

Good year for the roses – Elvis Costello

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CUfhiWLIrU8

L’hôtel particulier – Charlotte Gainsbourg

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tmQtO0bVysM

L’hôtel particulier – Serge Gainsbourg

 

The Dead Dicks – A Tom, Dick and Harry Saga

07 Friday Sep 2018

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Neville Cole

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Dead Dicks, Detective stories, Tom Dick and Harry

6875338_f520

Story by Neville Cole

PART ONE: BUCK UP BUTTERCUP

Harry staggered from The Bottled Blond sweating like he’d just run a marathon. He paused for a moment to catch his breath. His face was blotched, his pupils like pin pricks, but he had a smile from ear to ear. Harry fell into a waiting pedicab and blurted out two words: “Coach House.” As the driver pulled away Harry surveyed the scene like Caesar in his chariot returning to Rome until gravity got the best of him. His head fell back and his jaw dropped open. It was quite glorious. The lights above Indian School Road were comets bursting across the heavens. Harry finally keeled over for good just as the Coach House came into view. That big, dumb grin was still on his face. Then his penis exploded.

* * *

Tom could not believe it. His career was in flames. Twenty-five years with a perfect record and now this. A Performance Improvement Plan no less! Sixty days to prove himself all over again, or else. To make matter worse, it had been less than six hours and he’d already failed the very first objective. He could not bring himself to call his boss and tell her the bad news. His hand would not physically reach for the phone.

Objective One: Notify manager immediately of any issues or concerns that could lead to a potential schedule delay by phone or IM (not email).

Instead of sticking the plan, Tom sat in solemn silence and stared at his inbox waiting for the next shoe to drop. His cell phone rang. He tried mightily to ignore it. It kept ringing. He picked it up. It was Harry. Perfectly awful timing, as always.

“Harry?” Tom said quietly. “What do you want?”

“Tom Hopwood?” said the voice on the other end of the line.

“Yes,” Tom answered. “Who is this?”

“Mr Hopwood. This is Detective Ramirez from the Scottsdale Police. I am afraid I have some bad news.”

* * *

Harry looked around. He was dizzy and confused. He’d blacked out and woken up in some pretty strange places before but never anything like this. In the shadows, a man in a tan houndstooth suit and teardrop crown fedora lit up a cigarette.

“Where am I?” Harry whispered hoarsely.

“This would be the morgue, brother.” Said the man in the hat in a cloud of smoke and vapors.

“The morgue?” Harry stammered.

“Yeah, pal.” The man said moving into the light. “Hate to break it to you, but buddy, you’re dead.”

“Dead?” Harry repeated.

“It’s takes some getting used to, I know.” The man said reaching out his hand. “Believe me. I’ve been there. Name’s Dick. Dick Downes. Dick Downes Detective Agency. Mind if I ask you a few questions? While things are still fresh on your mind.”

“Dead?” Said Harry again.

“Why don’t I give you a moment. You still need to adjust. How about a drink? Hair of the dog?” Dick pulled a flask from his coat and handed it to Harry. “Mind you, drinking ain’t the same when you’re dead.” Dick dropped his cigarette and pressed it under the toe of his gumshoe. “Neither is smoking, for that matter; but, good news is, this stuff can’t kill you anymore and, even better, it never runs out. I’ve had this same flask and the same pack of smokes since ’62! Don’t do nothing for me and it won’t for you. It’s the all about the ritual. Keeps me going somehow.” Harry took the flask from Dick and stared at it for a moment. It was glowing slightly in the darkness. So was his hand. “Go on,” Dick urged. “Take a hit. I don’t know why, but you’ll feel better. Harry took a sip from the flask. He felt a slight tingling sensation but there was no taste at all. “I got a theory that buzz is electrons or some kinda sub-atomic particles just knocking around. Hate to tell you but that’s one of the few feelings you got left. You might as well enjoy it.”

“How am I dead?” Harry asked taking another sip from the flask and returning it to Dick.

“Well, that’s what I’m here to find out, pal” said Dick tucking the flask back in his pocket. You died under what we call mysterious circumstances.”

“Mysterious?” Harry couldn’t seem to manage to say much more than repeat the last thing he heard.

“I’ll say,” Dick laughed. “You had a massive heart attack in a pedicab and your dick exploded. That was some night, brother. What the hell happened, anyway?” Harry reached down between his legs. Everything was still in place.

“Dick exploded? What are you talking about?”

“Take a look for yourself if you don’t believe me.” Dick was back in the corner leaning against the wall. Harry unzipped his fly. His penis was still there but was ripped open from shaft to tip like gutted fish. “Jesus!” Harry exclaimed.

“Don’t worry about it, bub.” Dick said quietly. “Not like you are ever gonna need that thing again. Believe me. Those days are done and gone.

“What the fuck is going on!” Harry suddenly shouted.

“Alright!” Dick said, suddenly back next to Harry. “Now we are getting somewhere. Anger is part of the process. Here’s the thing, brother. You are what we call DNG. Dead Not Gone. For some it’s just temporary; for others, well, like me, it’s probably permanent. My job is to figure out what happened to you and…” Dick lit up another smoke.

“And…”

“File a report.”

“A report? On me?”

“Yeah, you got it. See, until the powers that be figure out what happened to you. Until they read my report. Well, they wont make a decision on what to do with you without more evidence.”

“Everybody goes through this?”

“No,” Dick shook his head. “No. No. Some people it’s obvious. Some people got a long record. Some people got witnesses. A lot of people got it all worked out before they kick the bucket. Then there’s the likes of you. You got very few witnesses. Mysterious circumstances and all. Right now.” Dick exhaled a string of smoke rings and watched them drift away. “Right now, your best hope of wrapping this up quick is someone turns up at your funeral and gives us a clue. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise?”

“Don’t worry, bub. I always nut it out eventually. I’ve been at this seventy years or more and thirty before that while I was still alive. You’ll get your report. Buck up, buttercup! So, unless you want to mope around with the rest of these stiffs all day, what do you say we get out and do a little haunting?

 

To the Lighthouse

01 Saturday Sep 2018

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Joe Carli

≈ 35 Comments

Tags

Lighthouse, Seacliff Hotel

12764691_10154003905602094_2350584329639484269_o

The Seacliff Hotel SA – aka the ‘Cliff

Reblogged from Joe Carli  

https://freefall852.wordpress.com/2016/03/29/to-the-lighthouse/ 

“One must forgive the young their foolishness, for without them, there would not seem so much wisdom in old age.”…Socrates.

Ah!..Friday nights, didn’t we look forward to them. But we were young and carefree in those days. A group of us young bucks would meet after work at the Seacliff Hotel on Fridays and imbibe of the amber fluid and see what came of the evening. We were mostly working lads, so our thirsts were dry and encouraging.

I happened to be the first there that night, so I’d only taken my first drought of beer and settled back one-arm-on-the-bar surveying the scene, when in walks Mark. Mark was a big stocky fellow then, before the years and a beer-gut increased accordingly.

“Another schooner please, Noela.” I said to the barmaid before Mark reached me.

“G’day mark..How’s the land lie?” I greeted him.

‘Hrmph!..not much better than yesterday..ta, Noela.”

“Why the long face?…Say!..I heard you bought yourself a car!”

“HAD, you mean..past tense…an’ I only had it three days!”

“Righto then”, I turned and put both my forearms on the bar-top..”out with it..what’s the dirt?”

‘Bloody Mick!” Mark spat the words out.

“More!” I demanded.

“Last night we were in here having a drink”, he started..( I motioned to Noela for a beer for myself and nudged the coins on the bar and gave her the wink and a sign to keep refilling them). ” You know then that car I got from one of Mick’s mates who was going back to Sydney or somewhere and it had a “yellow canary” on it for bald back tyres?…Well, Mick suggested I buy the car ’cause I could get it for a song.” Mark paused for a drink and a sigh, then continued…

” But I haven’t even got a licence..I said to him..’You’ll get one one day’ ,said Mick ‘ and until then I can drive you around, since I don’t have a car.’….Mark rolled his eyes..”Say!..have you heard about Mick’s car?”

“I have not” I replied.

“Ah!…it’s another story..I’ll tell you later..he smashed it anyhow….again!” Mark waved his hand as if to erase the thought from his mind.

“Well,” he continued “I’d had enough beer by then to be a little bit foolish, so between one thing and another, I bought the car….’ 64 Falcon…green…..I think!”.

Mark sighed and plonked his hand down on a packet of smokes which he flung the lid off in an angry gesture and lit one up ecstatically.

“A man’s a fool!” he philosophised.

“Well, we were in here last night, me, Mick and Jim….You know  Jim..the bullshit-artist?…yeah, that’s him!…me and Jim and Mick, just where we’re sitting now..and the car’s there outside the window in the street and I was feeling a little proud, I admit it, I’d never owned a car before, you see?…”

“Anyway..(yes thanks, Noela)..we’re sitting here an’ Mick leans over to Jim and me and whispers like it was a national secret…: ‘I know where I can get a good “deal” tonight’…”

“Oh yeah!” I said “Where; The Brighton?”

“Yeah..good heads..good price too!”…Mick was keen. Suddenly, there was “Brain’s” face hanging over my shoulder..”How much?” Brain asks.

I tell you, if there’s even a sniff of dope within half a mile of Brain, he’s on to it. And God!..doesn’t it look like he’s full of it ! If it can be smoked, drank chewed or injected…..but then I ‘spose that’s why he’s called “Brain”….oh God!…his eyes!!”

“How much?” Brain repeats himself..he’s standing there trembling like a distempered dog..anyway, between the long and short of it, we scrape our money together… I lent Brain his share..and we send Mick to buy a bag.”

“He gets back about an hour later lookin’ like he’s smoked half of it away. He gave us the nod from the door and we all finished our beers and went out to the car. He showed us the “deal”.

“And the rest, Mick!”, Jim said…He knew Mick like he knows himself, eh?..After a good deal of threatening from us he handed over some more he’d kept ‘ for commission’  he said.”

“Well, we decided to got up to the lighthouse and have a couple of joints. Mick’s driving like he usually does, so he does a few ‘ring-a-rounds’ on the grass and we park and smoke away……When we decided to go, Mick does another bunch of 360’s just to make an idiot of himself and then goes and slides the car into a ditch on the slope and gets stuck…of course, you know Mick..; plants his foot till smoke’s pouring off the tyres!”

” ‘Hold on dickhead!’..I shouted, ‘ we’re not going anywhere like this…we’ll have to get out and push’…we were standing at the boot, all off our faces as it was…’ No, Mick….YOU..stay in the car and steer….ok?…yeah, right ‘….Well, there we were, an the stars were shinin’…shinin’ an’ the lighthouse light is goin’…blink..blink…FLASH!!…jeez, y’know..it was a beautiful night….so it took us a little while to notice the grass had caught on fire under the car..probably off the muffler..up it went!…WHOOSH!…’ Mick, Mick’, we yelled (shoulda’ kept our mouths shut!) an he got out just in time. Man..we were panicking. Brain was freaking out, he just stood there moaning, ‘ Oh man, oh man’..and staring.”

“I’ ll go to a house’, I shouted, ‘and call the fire brigade’. I tell you I went to four houses over the other side of that gully before someone would listen to me. I don’t blame them on reflection, I dunno what I was sayin’..and the people in the forth house could see the problem without me babbling a word. He just looked over my shoulder and the grass on the whole side of the hill was on fire. I heard the sirens then and it was all over bar the shouting….When I got back to the fenceline, Jim, Mick and Brain were standing there silhouetted against the flames. Jim went into bullshit mode and started to detail about how it reminded him of “when he used to burn the sugar-cane crops up in Bundaberg….”..I told him to ‘ shuddup, Jim..just shuddup!’.

“Well, that was last night. This morning, I wasn’t feeling too good, but around comes Mick to pick up me an’ Jim an’ we drive up to the lighthouse to see the damage. The car’s a writeoff, gutted except the rear-end and the boot…you know those new tyres I put on to get the coppers to wipe off the “yellow canary”?…well, someone stole both wheels… must’av been the only thing on the whole car worth saving….and to add insult to injury, I’m standing there, really depressed an’ thinkin’..; ‘ well..at least I owned a car for three days! ‘….suddenly Mick makes this gasping sound, like a sharp intake of breath, leaps to the passenger-side door, throws it open and flips open what remained of the glovebox.”

“Oh SHIT !”…Mick cried painfully..”There was a whole “deal” in that glovebox!!”

“Man…I coulda’ wept.”…Mark shook his head disbelievingly. His hand plopped down again on his smokes.

“Two pints this time thanks, Noela”. He sighed.

Aretha Franklin’s Departed

31 Friday Aug 2018

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Algernon, Entertainment Upstairs

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Aretha Franklin

aretha-franklin-1

Playlist by Algernon

Mostly presented in February 2017.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ou2vVeRXO_s

I never loved a man the way I love you

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fzPXozDgvYs

Respect

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xoagkpi5B4Q

Baby I love you

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J2TKenh5HVI

Chain of Fools

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gcDtxGPr9SA

(Sweet Sweet Baby) Since You’ve been Gone

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HqYnevHibaI

Think

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtBbyglq37E

Say a little Prayer

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QltkrjydOPg

Share your love with me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-GQSLe4OmIY

Call me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQEuVKDJx1I

Don’t play that song

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DBFWf8PDnTw

Spanish Harlem

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_V48bCZZNU

Day Dreaming

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJS6aF5FqrE

Angel

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOSB4Y8e3Z4

Until you come back to me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pkkMKOZHOcw

I’m in love

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YhuEY79gMzg

Something he can feel

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1mgxp2vsHCg

Jump to it

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsnQXghCpFg

Get it right

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ip_pjb5_fgA

Freeway to love

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VtUWs6muGzg

Sisters are doing it for themselves – Aretha Franklin and the Eurythmics

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fDxzQJaA228

I knew you were waiting for me – Aretha Franklin with George Michael

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4rhy1rBsVM

Georgia on my mind and It takes two to tango – Ray Charles with Aretha Franklin

The “Tank Sisters”.

22 Wednesday Aug 2018

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Joe Carli

≈ 27 Comments

Tags

Tank sisters

 

image-2

Stainless Tanks

Story by Joe Carli

The Tank Sisters were a couple of voluminous and weighty ladies (not related in any family sense) that hung around the front bar of the Seacliff Hotel..why, was anyone’s guess..as there was little prospect of linking up with any respectable males in that establishment..at least not this side of sobriety..which, of course led to this little tale.

Overheard conversations of lurid desires between the two ladies had been reported at different times, but the reproduction of those intimate details is best left to more scurrilous publications.. sufficient to relate that the general complaint between them was that if they didn’t get some sexual satisfaction soon (they didn’t say it QUITE like that!) , “It would heal up”…whatever the “It” was.

There were rumours that Little Johnny, the SP. (starting price) bookie was running a tote on which of the ladies would anally absorb a bar-stool first…such was the broad beam of their backsides!

My old mate , Mark..you have heard me mention him in that story of ; “To the Lighthouse”..well, Mark had a Saturday morning routine he would rarely swerve from, and that involved getting to the front-bar of the Seacliff Hotel just at opening time, claiming his favourite spot at the bar with an uninterrupted view of the television set to watch the days footy, open his copy of the Saturday paper at the horse racing page and settle in to a good days exercise.

This morning, rather than being the first to the bar, he had to share his place with Tim the plumber….who, Mark noticed was sitting sombre mood, slouched, arms crossed on the bar encompassing a pint of beer…further, Tim appeared to be in some kind of trance, staring at the rising bubbles in the amber fluid.

“G’day Tim..” Mark greeted “How’s it going?”

“Huruumph!..fuckin’ shithouse!” Tim growled out the corner of his mouth.

“Why..what’s the matter?” Mark inquired as he snapped open his paper.

“Well, I got pissed last night, didn’t I ?” Tim took a long draught of the’hair of the dog’.

“So..” Mark shrugged “You get pissed every Friday night”.

“Yeah, well..” and here, Tim tossed and fiddled with the coins on the bar-mat…he finally confessed ; “..I..I woke up this morning , at about one o’clock , on the beach , with one of the Tank Sisters hanging off my dick !”

Mark lowered the paper down , turned his head slowly toward Tim, wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the seriousness of the situation.

“JeEEzus, mate!…wadidyado ?…”

At this moment of reflection, Tim gave one of those involuntary spasm jerks of the arm..making his beer spill a tad.

“ Fuck it!..waddya think I did ?! ” he angrily spat..

Now, neither Mark , nor anyone else of that front-bar clientele has ever inquired to Tim for the answer to that question….nobody wanted to know…

 

 

Stewart Lee on Trump

19 Sunday Aug 2018

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 21 Comments

Tags

Barrel of Porn Actresses, Stewart Lee, Trump

This post comes with a language warning

 

We’re up in Brisvegas this weekend and the paper this morning had a headline shouting that Dutton was making a play for the Prime Minister’s job.  What a C-bomb !

On Monday I’m going to find out who to join up with to campaign against the steaming pile of shitty pond scum.

In the meantime, we can draw strength from Stewart Lee’s take on Trump.

Love and peace to all our Pig’s Arms contributors and friends.

Emmjay

 

Music for Pleasure 9 – the Precious Ones

18 Saturday Aug 2018

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Algernon, Bands at the Pig's Arms

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Aretha Franklin, Benjamin Booker, Bob Marley and the Wailers, David Bowie, Fleetwood Mac, Neil Young, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Shirley Ellis, Spiritualized, Sturgill Simpson, The Pretenders, The Rolling Stones, The Stone Roses, Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Music for pleasure volume 9

Bill with an Andy Warhole look-alike friend

Playlist by Algernon

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ifw8JhDBvs

Say a little prayer – Aretha Franklin

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V2VhB1_x2Ac

Golden years – David Bowie

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NSD11dnphg0

Fools gold – The Stone Roses

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0XWeyOZxI8

Gold lion – Yeah Yeah Yeahs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nv584jRwh0s

Exodus – Bob Marley and the Wailers

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7Hy7uAb_eU

Brass in pocket – the Pretenders

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pO8kTRv4l3o

Heart of gold – Neil Young

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cMp57bUzOB8

Gold dust woman – Fleetwood Mac

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4c3Sdf7u6Ts

You got the silver – The Rolling Stones

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYn74HY1KgQ

Electricity – Spiritualized

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3MX7ByAbVyw

Believe – Benjamin Booker

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FW3Zu9IYfM

Running up that hill – First Aid Kit

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2v8IgJdsm4

The nitty gritty – Shirley Ellis

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TI8xPw2aQA

Breathless – Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NpDYfkymaSE

In Bloom – Sturgill Simpson

 

Shack

17 Friday Aug 2018

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in George Theodorides, Joe Carli

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

fishing shack

 

68_1

Simulated fishing shack

The Pig’s Arms welcomes our newest contributor – Mr Joe Carli.

This may sound like a bit of sentimental tosh..but hey..

Got the old shack up for sale…years ago, back in around 1980..we (the family / brother, sister and the old folks) chipped in a few hundred quid each and bought this block of land on the peninsula and I built a holiday shack there..sure and it was built on the dirt cheap , out of bits of sticky-tape and bent wire sort of, but it was great for the kids to get away from the city and we’d go fishing, crabbing, that sort of thing…

You’d get there and the first thing is you’d run to claim a bed and throw your clobber in one of the two big rooms with four beds in each, grab a crab-rake or fishing rod from the corner and make for the beach..the shack..and it really was a shack..was just to flop in for the night..cook the tucker in and watch the fire burn and crackle before you hit the sack….it was effing great when the kids were growing up.Some times there’d be half a dozen or so family or friends kids and the parents over for the school hols’ and it would be a whale of a time.sometimes on one of the days, we’d all go to Pt. Vincent to fish off the wharf there and I’d go check out the books and such in the op-shop over the road in St Neot’s church (best find : a first edition USA. of  T.E.Lawrence ; “Seven Pillars Of Wisdom” !..heyyyy!) annex and we’d all end the day before going back to the shack with a big butcher’s wrapped paper pack of fish and chips…and how many chips went to the gulls!..the fish being caught local from one of the fishing boats that worked the gulf in the area…geez!..it was good.

But now, the old shack is up for sale, I am getting too old to maintain it..and after the recent hernia operation ( I’ll tell you about it someday!)..it’s all getting a bit too much for me..The kids have grown up into gen Y adults..and are no longer interested in “crab island” or “cockle cove” or “starfish rock”….the shallow flats are “smelly” now..and just who wants to gut and clean their own fish anymore?..indeed…who wants to even go fishing anymore..and the old place has that “old smell” and look..it never was pretty..the old shack..not like the brand-spanking new McMansions popping up all around the little enclave..and NO-WAY will anyone be using the “out-the-back” dunny..even if it is a flush toilet..the spiders?.the dark!? And the rainwater in the old tank..is it safe to drink?…doesn’t everyone nowadays have an ensuite?

And those retirees who came here to getaway from the city…and brought the city expectations with them, expect there to be ; services, no fire risk..and that grey-water run-off from the kitchen and the shower that goes under the trees to keep them watered in the long hot summers..is that a health risk, is it legal?..and if there is a bush fire, those trees around your shack could “catch on fire and send it onto my house..I’m going to ring the council”…But the birds, the animals, you protest..the delicate native lilies and such?..Poison the lot…not a blade of grass..not a hint of verdant cover shall tarnish the scoria and gravel expanse..

It’s the school holidays..and there are no kids fishing..not even an adult walking the beach..nor at the wharf at Pt. Vincent..no kids, no people even to watch the crayfish boat sidle up to the wharf and unload it’s catch..not a curious soul..what has happened..is this a kind of Brave New World of hideaway people..is there no wonder in nature anymore?..no cry of children in a discovery of delight..Do not the parents delight in showing and explaining even with a touch of bullshit those strange shells and twists of sea-worm casings..to tell lurid tales of the goings on there just around the next cliff of “smugglers cove”..of dark nights and pirates and booty and good lord knows what else to see the wide-eyed wonder in their eyes as they fall to sleep snuggled in your lap by the fire in the old shack…

The shack is up for sale now..and I was there to cut the grass and tidy the place up a tad so it’ll look good…But really, it is only being sold for land-value..to be honest..no-one wants a shack anymore..you see..everyone now has an ensuite..the kids their ipads or smart-phones..But you know, as we were walking on the cliff-top road down to the jetty there..for just a moment..be it the wind-blown smell of the mallee trees in flower, or the cry of a gull surfing the air…for just that one short inhale of breath, I was back in that time with the kids and our arms full of fishing gear and buckets and a crab-net and we were all laughing and heading to the jetty and my little boy was saying that he bet he will catch a big, big squid…for just that one short moment..

Time has stolen the years from me , and I could bloody well weep.

Joe’s Bio

Jesus, Emmjay..100 words!?…I’m better talking about other people than myself…: A retired carpenter who’s knocked about this country and some times in Italy….from Italian/Australian parents..My father came here before the 2ndWW..and met my mother up at Blanchetown on the River Murray where she worked as a servant girl on the stations there…Self educated save for a couple years as a mature entry student in Classics at Adelaide Uni’ just as Howard buggered it all up so only did two years a long time ago..I write stories / cameos / poetry of the places and people I have known in my working life..a few also of Italy…I now live in splendid isolation with my partner and her two horses in the mallee…Joe.

 

 

Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Ry Cooder

11 Saturday Aug 2018

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay, Entertainment Upstairs

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Ali Farka Toure, Flaco Jiménez, Gabby Pahginui, Rolling Stones, Ry Cooder, VM Bhatt

5b44265c8181d.image

Post by Emmjay

Ry Cooder has been a favourite guitarist of mine for many years – since I was a teenager, actually. He rarely comes to Australia – the last time he did, I was in Paris.  Damn,

But he can play just about anything with strings. and he likes to do exotic collaborations like this one

https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=g0iaTsSHuWY –

and there are other older ones with Mohan Bhatt – A Meeting by the River  with the fabulous Ganges Delta Blues

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gKE3gDpgd2c 

and Gabby Pahinui – sadly now deceased Hawaiian slack key guitar master.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3Th-0LdjWQ 

And Flaco Jiminez Mariachi Band  (a really old clip)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUpZwW4C_NY 

And the Amazing Delta Bluesman Taj Mahal ( I’ve heard him twice down in the old Basement)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qEw0Lt8xgcA 

And the Rolling Stones from the cult movie “Performance”  (in the 1960s for Pete’s sake) – Ry wrote the song and played slide here.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lP0zsWupANs 

That’ll be enough for now 🙂

Take your time and enjoy a guitar virtuoso.

 

Emmjay

“If in distress do not crawl this way.”

07 Tuesday Aug 2018

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Apple Healtyh, Data insecurity, Facebook, My Health, Twitter

file-20180713-27024-ewu7nq-2

Ramble by Emmjay

I stole this line from the Australian poet Mark O’Connor.  He was referring to mirages in the arid outback landscape in his 2009 collection “Pilbara” (John Leonard Press).

But I think it now has a far wider application.

The other day LinkedIn reported that Apple had set up its own employee health clinics.

Now, we all know how insanely expensive health care is in the United states and I for one puzzle over why the main beneficiaries of this prohibitively expensive healthcare should vote for Trump and be OK about the attempted assassination of Obamacare.

The curious thing was the unbridled praise for Apple (the world’s first US$Trillian company).  I guess, on the surface it sounds like corporate munificence, but I wonder how many of those who praised dear old Apple had stopped to consider the wisdom of handing over one’s health information to corporatized hackerdom.

We see here in Australia the growing opposition to what was originally touted as a great idea – a centralised MYHealth Record – that could be accessed by just about anyone with a pulse – as well as a rampaging pack of health industry blood sucking corporations.  Any reason why would we not be concerned – with all the famous governmental IT fuck ups from something as simple as running a census, to plundering Centrelink recipients’ payments.  Did I mention the crash of the ATO’s DIY online fuck up ?  This is a classic.  The one department with unlimited funds manages to stuff up people’s access to actually provide those funds by paying their taxes on time.  Sorry Commissioner, I tried to pay my tax but your dog ate my homework.

Needless to labour the point.  I give you WikiLeaks.  If the Pentagon can’t maintain security, best of luck punting on the Australian Department of Health.  There’s no security.  LinkedIn was hacked.  So was Facebook – oh no.  They GAVE access to those pommie bastards caught red handed who have wisely filed for bankruptcy and disappeared into the sand.

It’s no wonder that doctors are coming out of the woodwork and saying they they personally won’t be participating in MYHealth by supplying their own health details into some unsupervised cesspit open to every corporation who would want to flog us pharmaceutical and other megabuck treatments – rather than help staunch this river of cash.

So, imagine you work for Apple and one or two of life’s vicissitudes befalls you. Imagine your mental health isn’t in great shape after the death of a loved one, or a diagnosis of a terminal illness.  Would you be comfortable that the patient-doctor bond of privacy would be respected ?  Let’s remember what Apple actually does – they are specialists at hacking.  And of course, your doctor also works for Apple and he or she doesn’t want to risk a fat pay check by holding back information that your productivity just now might be a bit crap.

So – best of luck Apple employees.

Sorry, I’ve got to rush off and close my Facebook and Twitter accounts.

 

 

 

← Older posts
Newer posts →

Patrons Posts

  • The Question-Crafting Compass November 15, 2025
  • The Dreaming Machine November 10, 2025
  • Reflections on Intelligence — Human and Artificial October 26, 2025
  • Ikigai III May 17, 2025
  • Ikugai May 9, 2025
  • Coalition to Rebate All the Daylight Saved April 1, 2025
  • Out of the Mouths of Superheroes March 15, 2025
  • Post COVID Cooking February 7, 2025
  • What’s Goin’ On ? January 21, 2025

We've been hit...

  • 721,422 times

Blogroll

  • atomou the Greek philosopher and the ancient Greek stage
  • Crikey
  • Gerard & Helvi Oosterman
  • Hello World Walk along with Me
  • Hungs World
  • Lehan Winifred Ramsay
  • Neville Cole
  • Politics 101
  • Sandshoe
  • the political sword

We've been hit...

  • 721,422 times

Patrons Posts

  • The Question-Crafting Compass November 15, 2025
  • The Dreaming Machine November 10, 2025
  • Reflections on Intelligence — Human and Artificial October 26, 2025
  • Ikigai III May 17, 2025
  • Ikugai May 9, 2025
  • Coalition to Rebate All the Daylight Saved April 1, 2025
  • Out of the Mouths of Superheroes March 15, 2025
  • Post COVID Cooking February 7, 2025
  • What’s Goin’ On ? January 21, 2025

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 374 other subscribers

Rooms athe Pigs Arms

The Old Stuff

  • RSS - Posts
  • RSS - Comments

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 374 other subscribers

Archives

Website Powered by WordPress.com.

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle
    • Join 280 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...