So That Was Christmas

Christmas was lovely; food was fine. Spending time with my family was rich and rewarding.

2012 will be a good year. (Regardless of what the Mayan conspiracy people might have told you.)

Alias: Frank Satyr

Peugeot RCZ

The Peugeot RCZ has me in a trance...I just want one!

She Lied

"There will be no carbon tax under a government I lead."

Thankfully, Australia's own little red-headed Pinocchio will face her Waterloo in two years. Then, finally, the people - who all leaders should fear - will get what they want.

Just a Quick One

This is just a quick one to keep the blog alive. I was at the aquarium the other day, looking at clown fish and wrasse and sharks and angel fish and sea stars. Lovely!

"How do you like those Apples?"

I blogged a few months ago about how I was considering the purchase of an iPod. I have to state, for the record, that said purchase never happened. It just seemed like a waste of good money; fashionhood rather than need. Thus, I do not have an iPod, nor do I have an iPad or an iPhone or a Twitter account or a Facebook account. None of that stuff makes life any richer or better. In fact, I think they suck, a bit. It's basic phone-and-email for me, checked twice daily. That is all. It works. Try it. Alias: Frank Satyr

A pretty Pug and the mighty Porsche

Having seen the new Peugeot RCZ in the flesh, I now concede that there is a car to challenge the Porsche 911 for the title of world's best-looking auto. Still, it's a subjective exercise and a bit like comparing Heidi Klum to Elle Macpherson. You wouldn't kick any of them out on the street. Alias: Frank Satyr

Where did my paragraph breaks go?

I would like to find out why the paragraph breaks in my 'Carbon Dioxide is a Gas' blog didn't appear as typed. Is there a bug in the system, or did someone deliberately mess with my words?

Carbon Dioxide is a Gas

The temporary Prime Minister of Australia decided to tax carbon dioxide last month, after promising during her election campaign that she would not do any such thing. Apparently, the fact that Australia is emitting a tiny 1.5% of all the industrially-liberated carbon dioxide in the world - and has bugger all effect on anything - escapes the PM. (She is the plaything of the Greens, which might be the true reason for her sudden urge to cripple Australian industry, destroy our competitive advantage and alienate her working-class base. Did I mention that she used to be a lawyer?) I don't know whether or not Australia's PM is a simpleton. I care little for her or her colleagues. I change the channel when she has anything to say about any subject at all, because you cannot be sure whether or not her pronouncements are actually lies. Still, I would humbly suggest that if you are going to tax only one kind of gas, you are perhaps missing revenue opportunities. The Satyr has identified several other light options: Oxygen! (Shallow breath - 10% tax; deep breath - 20% tax.) Helium! (Tax it before it floats away.) Methane! (Farts attract a Supertax.) Argon! (Why not? Nobody likes argon, not even its mother. Damn you, argon!) Yes, yes, yes. Alias: Frank Satyr

Reality, Floods

It is now a month since I returned to Australia. The desire for travel to strange and exotic lands has subsided, for a while. I have caught up with family and friends and cleared my lungs of Asian pollution.

The other day, the Brisbane River broke its banks and proved, once again, that it pays to live on high ground when your whole city is in a flood plain. That might seem logical, but humans have a knack for avoiding logic or forgetting it entirely for years at a time. I know this personally.

I have decided to change careers and become a real estate agent. (Control your sickening urge to yodel your breakfast into the nearby bushes.) I know, I know. Many people loathe real estate agents, for a whole variety of good reasons. However, I'm not going to earn my Porsche by hanging around with Eurotypical holidaymakers on a beach in the sub-continent, so I've decided to yuppify my existence for a few years and go ape in the real estate caper. I might even wear a suit and clean my car regularly.

One thing's for sure: either I'll make a fortune or I won't. Either way, I still want a Porsche.

Alias: Frank Satyr