One of the items I recently bought off Ebay was an oil canvass set from China. I have visions of block-mounting the items and hanging them in the lounge, to match the new decor.

So, I bought the set. The postage cost out of China is a huge $43 and the so-called 'postage and handling costs' is just a ruse by the vendors to rip you off on top of your nominal purchase price. (It was approximately $50).

I knew all of this prior to finalising the purchase but decided to go ahead anyway, as the pic was just what I wanted and it saves me rummaging through overpriced Australian art shops where you pay 4 times the price but all you get is a bloody print.. 

So I get the goods - fair enough, and also get prompted to comment on the Ebay seller's account service.

Well, diddling you on the administrative costs is a bit cheeky even if you accept that you are being diddled. I thought that the right thing to do was to rate the postage costs on the low end of the scale and to comment that the costs were too high. I didn't slag them in any other way. You get what you pay for after all. The following however, is their rating of me as a purchaser...



I am a 'buyer of craftiness' - a 'dishonest buyer' apparently. How I can be dishonest when I am on the paying end of the transaction, I do not know, but I guess I shall take the criticism on board. 

In fact, I'm feeling remorseful to the point where I may hang myself from the wall instead of the pictures.

That's it for me, I can't visit the Olympics now. I'll be shot on site or worse still, incarcerated and forced to watch endless Kung Fu movies...

Tuesday April 15, 02:23 PM

Terror cell 'planned AFL final attack'

"A Melbourne-based terrorist cell had planned an attack on the 2005 AFL grand final, a court has been told.

Izzydeen Atik told the court the group's alleged leader Abdul Nacer Benbrika had informed him of the targets.

"He said the AFL grand final was the original target," Atik told the Victorian Supreme Court.

But the grand final attack had to be put off after ASIO and police raided the homes of group members in July 2005."

When 911 happened I was on holidays or maybe I was between shifts. I can't remember which. I was a single man and spending a lot of time alone.

I had been browsing the Internet and headed to the BBC web site as I periodically do. It was showing pictures that I assumed were of those 'what if a plane hits the tower?' scenarios.

It soon became clear that this wasn't a 'what-if'. A plane had hit the first tower. I jumped on the TV and there I stayed from the aftermath of the first tower being hit, right the way through to the second tower being smashed live before my eyes. The rest of it is as they say - history.

It changed my views on life.

Experts have suggested that many people the world over suffered from post traumatic stress syndrome and I believe I did too. It was unimaginably brutal and mindless.

What makes it worse is that you identify with disaster. 600,000 people murdered in Rwanda doesn't grip you in quite the same way. That wasn't meant callously, but we simply don't identify to the same degree with what happened there. 911 though could have been us! This was an attack on us! We have been attacked since in Bali and I guess that demonstrates why we took it more to heart.

For a long time after 911 I didn't think that as a species we were worthy of survival. I couldn't see any compelling reason why humanity deserved to be preserved. Nothing has changed my thinking either. I still don't. The sooner we become extinct, the better off any number of innocent species will be. 

Ever since 911, I view every public gathering as an opportunity for a terrorist act. I view the casino as a terrorist target. Shopping malls and busy public streets fire up my imagination in ways I'd rather not be thinking.

I was at the 2005 AFL Grand Final and I sat there thinking what a wonderful target we 90,000 people presented to lunatic fanaticism.

It seems the lunatic fanatics were of the same opinion.

How do you stop such madness? You can thwart most of the evil plans but somehow, somewhere a major disaster will befall us that makes 911 pale into insignificance. You just can't cover all bases.

What surprises me is the large number of people who will not face this prospect. Denial seems to allow you to sleep better at night and think that you and your progeny will have a bright future.

I enjoy life and a good laugh is what I live for. I think I'm even hedonistic and the events of that day of infamy may even account for that. You just never know if today will be your last. Pessimist though? No, just a realist who hopes he doesn't live to see the next Holocaust.

As mentioned last week, I bought a new camera in readiness for a European trip later this year.

Whilst having always been a devout Canon fan, this camera is an Olympus FE 310. It cost about $178 (I added a 2GB memory card to it for another $30-$40). I would have posted a picture of it, but......

The camera is 8 megapixels and rather unusually in this price range, has 5 optical zoom, not the usual 3 (for the not-so-geeky, that's pretty damn good).

My previous digital camera - a Canon 4.1 megapixel  - is about 4 times the size of this camera. I bought it about 5 years ago and paid the wholesale price for it, having bought it through the wholesaler for my hobby computer business. it cost me about $1,200.

Oh well. I don't mind (too much) having shelled out that much money because it provided an opportunity to capture so many happy memories that otherwise would have been consigned to fading memory.

Amazing isn't it? Change happens so quickly.

Back to work tomorrow after an enjoyable four day break. I fear that getting up at 5:45 tomorrow may be the death of me.

I've achieved a few things.

1. I ironed my shirts.
2. Bought a new camera for the holidays later this year.
3. Tidied my desk (twice).
4. Bought some CDs.
5. Bought a new 4GB thumb drive. Cost about $27. (Oz Post)
6. Had some tests done for my quack to look at.
7. Cooked dinner one night.
8. Washed my car. (Auto wash).
9. Went to the footy (oh dear!).
10. Blogged.

Though this is indeed what I've done, I only wrote this dribble as I'm testing Microsoft's 'Windows Live Writer' programme. I found reference to it while browsing through Lisa's blog and I've used it to compose a few blog entries so far. I like it. You should give it a go (if you don't use it already). 

The only thing is though, that you need to enter the LJ site after posting, so that you can record your mood and 'listening to' bumf. The upside though is that you can spell check as you go and you do your work offline, and them simply click to post it. I shall continue to use it.

At times throughout your life, you encounter those ‘moments of truth’. Sometimes it may be when confronted with a moral dilemma. Perhaps it might be an imminent life change for the worse. It could be one of those life changes for the better. Whichever it is, things are forever changed and your decisions at the time shape the landscape of your future.

I’ve just had one such moment.

I received an email today to advise me that I have won USD850,000 in a Belgian lottery that I can’t even remember buying a ticket in. All I have to do is contact the organizers and apparently they will send me the money, no strings attached.  I guess.

I’ve already made some plans with the winnings and I had to turn no further than the very source of my good news to find ways of spending it - my email.

I think the first thing I must do with my new found wealth is to "make her groan all night long".  I am buying a supply of Viagra tablets that are the cheapest available. I also intend to shell out some of my winnings on making my 'penis 4 inches longer', just so "she will gasp with amazement at my huge cock".

It pays to impress, so I cannot fail but spend some of the money on "sizzling Rolex gold watch deals". Can you ever have enough gold Rolex watches I say?!

I no doubt will have to travel from Australia to Belgium to collect my winnings, so I intend to increase my wealth on the way over. I’ll be stopping over in Nigeria on the way. I’ll see if I can catch up with that "Nigerian prince" who is keen to enlist my financial wizardry by helping him smuggle enormous amounts of money from the country - all for an almost unbelievable commission rate.

With all the money coming my way, I think I can invest a small amount of it and "secure a degree" from one of those many universities that are happy to laud my academic achievements, even though I was a year 11 flunky. ‘Doctor Busby’. It has a nice sound to it don’t you think?

If time permits, I may catch up with that "blonde Russian bombshell". She seems quite a nice person and not at all focused on wealth alone.

Life’s great eh?

Over the last few decades there has been an increasing practice of giving children a family name that is a hyphenated combination of both parents' family names. Indeed, there are some of you out there who read this blog who have been afflicted with this same curse.

What concerns me is this: 

What happens when Adam Shingle-Cuttlebutt marries Kylie Yakman-Carter? Do they name their son 'Corey Shingle-Cuttlebutt-Yakman-Carter'?

Furthermore, when Corey grows up and marries Myrtle Splint-Nokker-Lebowski-Burpland (fruit of the loins of Harry Splint-Nokker and Gretal Lebowski-Burpland), do they call their kid 'Agnes Shingle-Cuttlebutt-Yakman-Carter-Splint-Nokker-Lebowski-Burpland'? What the Hell are their children going to do? 

Agnes' son could have a full time job just signing on for the dole - "Ziggy Shingle-Cuttlebutt-Yakman-Carter-Splint-Nokker-Lebowski-Burpland-Magenta-Minkleson-Hoverschlit-Grandipple-Munchabil-Zwinkler-Mandible-Busby" is no easy chore. (and yes, we are related).

I am gravely concerned by not only this but other questions that have come to light because of it. Questions such as "Do I have too much time on my hands?"  - and - "Just what the hell is going on inside my head?"

If you can help, please write to me and let me know:

John.Busby-Throatwarbler-Mangrove-Snippy-Bumpatton-Yurkle-Gurdleton-Mingemeister@hotmail.com

Be afraid, be very afraid...

There's a radio commercial for the Smith Family charity that pleads with us to help families who can't afford to provide for under-resourced school children. 

There's a whiny kid saying something along the lines of "But mum, why can't I have what the other kids at school have?" Mum retorts with something like, "I know darl, but we just can't afford it!"

I don't know about you, but whenever I hear 'darl' being used, it conjures up imagery of some 180 kilogram walrus with floral frock sitting in an arm chair, eyes permanently glued to her 106cm wide screen colour tv. Oprah is teaching all and sundry about healthy living and balanced lifestyles. She reaches out and fumbles another cigarette from the packet, ready to light it up even though the one that hangs from the side of her mouth is only half completed. Her fifth coffee of the afternoon sits on a side table amongst the clutter of a month's debris. Life's tough - and her kids are going to pay for it.

I don't know, maybe I have too vivid an imagination. I was certainly always told that in school, where I attended with the barest of provisions and did not whimper and whine about it.

 It is 3:15 a.m. as I write this and I have just come home from work. 

It also happens to be a Friday night and so there are revellers returning home who are still driving around the streets of Perth. Canning Highway was not busy, but there were cars ahead of me. Probably about 6 in all, and they occupied both lanes. Occasionally a car would change position from left to right lane, or right to left depending entirely I suppose, upon the driving habits of the occupants. As usual, some drivers hardly indicated - if at all.

I was in the right hand land, having recently overtaken a vehicle and I estimate I was travelling at a speed of about 65kph when I had the living daylights frightened from me. A motorbike came up on the inside lane and I had no warning of his arrival. He weaved his way through the cars ahead of me and what frightened me was the sheer lunacy of the speed at which he was travelling. I would conservatively estimate it at approximately 180kph. It was outlandish and suicidal and frankly inexplicable. it would have been bad enough on an empty road, but this road had cars in both lanes moving generally about 65 kph and changing lanes as well. I am mystified by the extent of the stupidity of this bike rider.

In keeping with my relatively new belief system and indeed, a philosophy that I am happy to debate and defend, I really would feel an awful sadness for his family and friends when his blood and flesh is eventually splattered across 300 metres of bitumen. As far as the fucking idiot himself is concerned though, I don't give a giant flying rat's arse. People like this deserve no sympathy, no compassion no remorse, no regret.  

I'm not wishing him death. I wouldn't do that and I need not wish it anyway for it will surely happen (if it hasn't happened already further up the road). I only wish that he takes no one else with him. People like this can be such a drain upon our limited emergency service resources and our overtaxed health system.

As I've said before, my milk of human kindness has curdled in recent years. I'll save my sympathy for the innocent and the more deserving. Fuckwits with a racing Honda between their legs do not attract the compassionate side of my nature. 

What ye sow, so ye shall reap.

It has been a very busy couple of months. The Busby social calendar has been quite full and there have been many gatherings blessed by my attendance. This weekend was no exception and yesterday being Australia Day, we surrendered to the whimsy brought on by too many drinks with a pissy neighbouring couple a few weeks ago. 

Yes, we had a street party for Australia Day. 

Flags flew, Joe Dolce, Slim Dusty and Australian Crawl bellowed through the street and nobody complained because all were in attendance. Street cricket was in full swing for hour after hour and the grog flowed freely. From the street, we could even see the smoke from the fireworks. It was spectacular smoke indeed...

My barbecue was dragged out into the street and this pommie bastard of a correspondent cooked up a treat for the gathered throng of Australians. The multitude consisted of Malaysians, Indians, cockeys, office workers, retirees and students.

It was a great and late night and in traditional Aussie style, at least one person got totally shitfaced. It wasn't me or Chris...

I think this may become a tradition.

Good stuff. Australia is largely egalitarian and such gatherings of people from all walks of life pay homage to that quintessential Australian attribute. Strangely, it isn't particularly Australian in one sense. It is a quality that has developed through a centuries of immigration where people have come to this land to start afresh and desperate to leave their history behind them. I fear we may be losing that quality

I have but one thing to say to you all today..

  

Merry Xmas Everybody!!  

What is it with old people these days? Things ain't what they used to be. I suspect that the old people of my youth are a dying breed.

When I was a tacker, pensioners were lovely people by and large. They'd fought in wars and suffered through the depression years and generally appreciated and accepted how tough life can be. It made them appreciate living, and it made them appreciate what they got. The world didn't owe them anything. If you forged ahead, you did so out of hard work. It wasn't senior citizens of my youth that whined long and hard about being disadvantaged pensioners. It is the pensioners of today who squeal like stuck pigs. "What's the government going to do for us? We're pensioners!" is the cry. It doesn't seem to matter that the only thing of note that many have achieved in life, is old age itself. They wear it as a badge of honour and demand imaginary privileges believing all the while that the world now owes them a comfortable living. The pension is never enough and they suffer untold hardship, if you happen to believe all they say. 

I don't. 

My wife works as a manager of an 'independent living' village. Last night was a catered Christmas dinner at the village and being a person central to the running of the show, she was invited along. This unwary correspondent (being an occasionally dutiful husband) accompanied her to the event. 

Big mistake! There have been feuding factions at this village for some time and last night saw matters come to head. Add a microphone to a gathering of two feuding groups and it is a recipe for disaster. 

Disaster it was. Possession of the microphone was won alternatively by members of each group who used the opportunity, not to sing "We Wish You A Merry Xmas", but instead, to berate and slander their foes. 

It stopped short of physical abuse and I kid you not, I think it was only because my wife literally stepped in between two male opponents. I thought testosterone was in short supply as you get to that age, but it seems I was wrong. I fully expected them to lay their penises beside the roast turkey and ham just to see whose was the biggest. 

At one stage I took the microphone and sat on it for half an hour just so that if anyone wanted to raise voice, they would have to do it through frail vocal chords. It was as well that we didn't have curry last night or I dare say it could have been a most embarrassing situation if I'd accidentally left it switched on while it was nestled between my butt cheeks.

When the caterers brought out the fruit mince pies, I remarked that custard and cream pies would have been more appropriate. I also tried to cheer up some of them by suggesting that at least we benefited from free entertainment. 

it was an unsavoury experience. It was embarrassing, uncomfortable, funny and entertaining all at once. 

You would think that people in the twilight of their lives, might consider that there are more important things to do than stand up and slay fairly tale dragons. I'd be wanting a peaceful existence. Petty politics and feuding should not be the stimulus you need to get you out of bed each day. The anger and hatred was amazing to see. It is a problem that has been known for some time, but for it to take the bad turn that it did last night ,caught everyone on the hop. 

It wasn't a particularly Silent Night early on, though appropriately it did peter out into something that can be described as 'frosty'.

It was an interesting evening and some of the people there are very nice indeed. It was a pleasure to meet them. They reminded me of how older people used to be...

Last night we trundled along to the Lionel Ritchie concert at the Sandleford Winery. I'm no fan in any way shape or form, and back in the days of 'The Commodores'  I derided that sort of smooch soul/funk music that they put out. The general presentation of the band members and the moves on stage used to make me snort with a combination of contempt and amusement. The tickets were a thank you gift from a friend and as they were going to the concert too, it was no chore to go along and enjoy the company. These sort of things are more of a social event anyway.

Lionel of course, went on to eke out a highly successful solo career. 

Sandalford could do with getting their shit together. "Gates open at 3:00pm", said their web site and yet the tickets said "4:00pm". Unfortunately the latter was correct and so we spent 40 minutes in constant drizzling rain waiting to get in. 

The lower end of the decent wine prices was the $22 to $25 mark and so you can imagine the mark up. Still, you pay at least double the going rate in most restaurants and from my experience with Leeuwin concerts, this is about the going rate for a winery's own product at this sort of show. If they sell 5000 bottles of the stuff over a couple of nights of the concert I estimate they would make a tidy $800,000 plus profit. Not bad is it?

Some local jazz/funk band were on first. the musos were good, the music was awful. Boring and repetitive and it came as no surprise when the female singer advised us that that they write their own stuff. I suppose you have to start somewhere. 

Marcia Hines provided the main support for Ritchie and she was a consummate professional. I'm no big fan of her music but I can listen to it. She delivered flawlessly and is worth checking out in her right if you get the chance. 

Ritchie came on and sang all his well known songs and the fans certainly lapped it up. I'm familiar with a handful of his solo recording and a couple are quite nice. I like the slower balladic simplicity of "hello" for instance.

While I didn't get into the mood, I did enjoy his show. He was an excellent showman and performer and clearly, very talented. 

It rained at times through the show, but you get that. The worst thing that can happen is that you get wet. I thought we might have trouble hearing the music due to the occasional airplane overhead and the rustling of plastic ponchos every time a drop water fell from the sky.

Leaving was a debacle and I had been forewarned that it is best to wait an hour before you even attempt to get out of the complex. We waited about an hour and a half and trying to get out any sooner would have been futile. Lots of people had to wait as well. Most of the cars were parked on a paddock next to one of the vineyards and it would be well to warn you that some of the Sandalford Swan Valley 2008 crop could come in for interesting reviews from the wine critics:

"A delightful citrus and grassy aroma embodies this fine offering, tinged with a hint of pickled urine. This wine will keep well. Serve at room temperature - to your mother in law".   

And no - I didn't. Nor did Christine, though there was a 50/50 gender demographic of offenders.

On the subject of urine, it was interesting to see that there was an equal number of portaloo toilets available for both genders (perhaps even an extra block for the women). The queue to the women's was twice as long as the men's and yet, the men's queue was also populated with about 50% women who simply couldn't wait. God, you'd have to be desperate to go and use men's toilets at one of these events!

In summary, it was actually an enjoyable evening, though we didn't get home until about 12:45.

Persistent Wrong Number Caller. What should I say?

 My cat is a pussy cat. A real pussy cat sook.

Whenever I decide to vacuum the house she scarpers from room to room (usually to the next room I am going to vacuum). She is terrified of the vacuum cleaner and I guess I can make due allowance for that. This is in spite of the fact that I have never so much as once sucked her up with it and deposited her resplendently decorated with white fluff into the wheelie bin. God knows though, I've been tempted. 



This cat has never been disciplined and strides in cocky manner around the house (when it's not being vacuumed). If she hears a noise outside or if someone has the temerity to knock on the door, she is off like a pro's knickers. Sometimes, if they aren't too booming of voice and manner, she may saunter slowly back into the lounge room and condescend to making their acquaintance.



Even an ironing board being set up (I was going to say erected but I know people who would not miss the opportunity to muse on that) is enough to send her darting under the bed. Hell, I have enough trouble ironing my shirts so I doubt that i would involve myself in the intricacy that would be require to iron a cat. Besides which, I don't like the smell of scorching fur.



She is lucky that I love her a lot, though I know Christine is less than thrilled with the wanton acts of vandalism perpetrated upon her lounge suite. We have hung a door over the lounge room archway just so we can keep the little bugger out. Now we can start looking for a replacement suite. (I know people who would have happily skinned the cat to make furniture patches). She is one lucky cat. Lucky that her coat doesn't match the furniture...

For those who don't like cats because of the damage they wreak upon the local fauna, let me assure you that she is eco-friendly. She is an indoors cat and has her own little cat run from which she only offers us the occasional outdoor cockroach - after the legs have been removed.

Does it pay to have an opinion sometimes? Well, yes it does. 

I signed up long ago with AC Nielsen to participate in online surveys.  If you are in the right demographic, you are asked to compete the survey and rewarded points for doing so. Accumulate points over a period of months and you can cash them. I've done this for a few years now and have probably received about $400 worth of shopping vouchers.

Today I attended a market research group for another crowd and walked away with $60 for an hour of my time. 

For someone so opinionated, this is heaven....

1. Get a friend to phone up your children and tell them that you died in a horrible accident.

2. Substitute the contents of that bottle of drinking water in your fridge with hydrochloric acid.

3. Book into a six star hotel and tell them that you are the president of the United States of America.

4. Dig a huge, deep hole in the middle lane of a freeway and cover it with a black tarpaulin.

5. Order a big meal from a drive-in restaurant and then sit in the driveway until it’s all eaten.

6. Drop into the local police station and lodge a complaint that someone has broken into your house and stolen all your marijuana hydroponics equipment.

7. Sidle up to your mother in law at a family gathering and whisper in her ear that you want to meet her at the back of the garden shed in ten minutes. Ask her if she swallows.

8. File a tax return and claim a $1,000 deduction for “having to put up with those ‘dead shits’ at the ATO”.

These would surely get a laugh would they not?

The almost hairless me.

Poll #1070585 The Mo
Open to: All, results viewable to: All

Should jdbuzz grow back the mo?