Anthony Malloy

If you are of a particular age and musical disposition I have a song for you to listen to. You’ll probably particularly enjoy it if you can remember the ‘Clockwork Orange’ nights, the last of which I went to at The Chevron almost two decades ago.

Check out Let’s Dance To Joy Division by The Wombats.

It’s taken a decade but the search is finally over, and just as I despaired I would never find success.

I have found good boxers again.

Many years ago I found the perfect boxer shorts. Made by Naji they were cotton, didn’t disappear where they shouldn’t and were cheap. Of course, just as I found boxer nirvana Naji went out of business. Thus began a decade of wandering from brand to brand, never quite finding the perfect one, until this week.

I saw a Harris Scarfe catalogue this week and they had Mitch Dowd boxers on sale at basically a third of the normal price. Rae was out and about this week so she picked me up a pair to try and they are perfect. They are everything the Naji boxers were and then some which is why I was standing outside Harris Scarfe at Highpoint this morning, waiting for the shutters to go up.

There are 12 pair in the wash now, that should do me for a while although I am tempted to head back and clear them out completely. I’ve learnt my lesson the hard way and if it means buying a lifetime supply now then that’s what I’m going to have to do.

Billie Piper wowed all of us geek b0ys with her turn as Rose in Dr Who (well, more so the first season than the second when she turned into a bit of an overbearing prat) so it was with more than a little interest I read she was starring as Belle in the television adaptation of Belle de Jour. I mean, a Doctor’s companion in sexy knickers – what’s not to like?

Daniel emailed me this evening to point out that Channel 9 have picked up the local rights. I emailed him back and said “I torrented the first episode but it was only video quality in 4:3 so  I didn’t bother with the rest”.

He pointed out (quite rightly) that I’m a video snob. For my sins I’m going to go and watch the spare analogue television in mono.

I give myself five minutes max.

Today was 10% day – we now own 10% of the land we put the deposit on a month or so ago. It looks like there’s no turning back , and we probably agreed to as much in the mountain load of papers we’ve signed over the past week. I know buying land is bad for your bank balance, thanks for the rate rise today too, but I had no idea it could also give you RSI.

Hopefully, when we get around to it, our builders won’t try what the guys across the road did this morning. Firing up the cement mixers for the slab pour is not very polite at 6.00am, especially when car doors start slamming at 5.45. After a visit from the council building inspector (I wonder which concerned citizen’s wife called them?) we’re hoping it won’t happen again.

It looks better large.

With reference to my previous post…unbelievably I managed to pick 4th again.

Even though it’s a glorious day outside today we’re still popping in to keep an eye on the races ’cause we place a bet on each race leading up to The Cup.

Rae backed the winner in race one and her horse was scratched in race 3, so lucky her. Now here is why I only ever bet once a year – both of the races where I picked the horse have finished in photos for 3rd place and both times my choice has come 4th. Stupid bloody photo finishes.

One more race to go before The Cup and then I can forget about my rotten tipping form until next year.

Bert invites his Uncle to dinner.

After an incredibly blustery morning that had everyone’s nerves on edge Sunday’s wind storm brought Mary Poppins and the Poppinets (aka my sister Helen, along with sister Kate and mum) to our house.

We didn’t need any prompting or that hard of a push to leave them in charge of the kids so we jumped in the car and headed off to Williamstown for a spot of Vietnamese for lunch. It was too windy for a stroll so we headed up the road to the Sun and caught a film. Even better, after a bit of research to check it was okay, Rae and I enjoyed a bottle a champers as we watched ‘Death At A Funeral’.

So, that’s no kids, a lunch where we could order whatever we wanted, a movie and a bottle of bubbly; how could the day get any better? Well, when you get home to find your house cleaned top to bottom and dinner waiting for you life becomes pretty good. It’s amazing what a difference removing all that dust makes. Combine that with the fact we didn’t have to worry about Saturday lunch either as Rob and Zita sat the kids while we went to finalise house details and we came back to a cooked lunch. Talk about being spoilt rotten.

Before the sisters and mum flew away I took them out to see our block. Well, I attempted to. You see I had never actually driven to the block before, I’ve always been a passenger. Yes, I got lost going to our own block of land and not just once, but twice. I’m never going to live that one down. All I can say in my defence is that I was born and raised in Shepparton, the most grid-based country town you could wish to find. Once you throw in a bend, a curve, another bend, another curve I could be anywhere. We’re going to have to buy a new Melway or get sat nav if I’m ever going to find my way home.

Either that or I’ll give Helen and a call and follow the umbrella.