Sunday, September 11, 2011

'Why shouldn't I call my son Clint?'......









Yes, my dream of building and flying my own Spitfire received a timely reminder two days ago when "Jess" turned up to the stall of the book, "Why shouldn't I call my son Clint?" with one tattooed on her leg. Her grandfather was a fighter pilot in the RAF in world war 2. Lovely girl and a lovely leg.



From the Name Guru app/book....

Jess: Jess may or may not be the most stunning girl in the room, but she certainly does nothing by halves......







And proof that neither the app or the book are accurate all the time - from the Name Guru app....







Colleen: Another name that is impossible to say without wincing like you've just jammed a splinter beneath your finger nail. Is this why Colleens can be so ghastly?







Piffle, I say!! Colleen, pictured left was just delightful.......







and she bought the app. what a gal?

In other news, another swimmer/surfer was killed in Western Australia this week by a white pointer. Danni Karis, my cousin and singer/songwriter, messaged me from Sydney with thoughts of, "The Arc of Tommy Shoalhaven". The novel I wrote a few years back that tells of a young guy who becomes a ghost inside a great white after having been killed by it.


Bloody weird world, isnt it?

A few months after the book was released I flew to the UK, and took a stack of books to sell on the plane. The flight was empty and so I only sold one copy - to an Emirates hostess whose good friend was killed by a great white a few months earlier while leading a snorkelling tour at the Abrolos Islands.

Anyway, here's to living and breathing in a bizarre world.

goodluck and what a wonderful life!!

hock

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