Saturday, May 26, 2007


When I am a millionaire, when I have a supermodel girlfriend, when I have won the lottery, when I have won an Oscar, I will probably have a holiday home in Watson's Bay. Or Vaucluse, I'm not fussy.

This is the posh part of town. No wait, it's the if-I-kept-all-my-money-under-my-mattress-and-fell-out-bed-it-would-take-me-5-minutes-to-hit-the-floor part of town.

Gated communities, intercoms, Porsches parked in front of remote control garage doors, stunning views of the harbour, tree lined avenues. You know the sort of thing.

Speaking of trees and views, here's a short story about a tree and a view.

Some mega-rich local resident contacts the authorities complaining that his view of the harbour from the upper mezzanine is ruined by one of the trees on the tree-lined avenue. He tells them unless they do something about the 50 year old tree which has been there longer than his split-level, gravel-drived, faux-Spanish villa he will cut it down.

Authorities say "Don't even think about it" and the millionaire backs down.

Then a little while later the tree mysteriously begins to lose all its leaves and dies. Poisoned say the experts. The authorities have no proof as to whodunnit, but lets say they aren't looking for any suspects.

Instead they take to hoisting this banner over the dead tree saying "This tree has been poisoned. If you have any information then call......." in attempt to guilt trip the perpetrator into confessing.

So far no such luck.

Watson's Bay is a little further round and is home to Doyle's World Class Fish Restaurant and a nudist beach full of old men with shrivelled willies.

I know which I'd rather visit.

I can't stand fish
Here is video blog #4

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