Sunday, November 18, 2012

The shark is out...


"Most of us would know how your mind can drift when you're out surfing. A nearby disturbance in the water, and you unfortunately start to picture the worst. You may envisage getting away by the skin on its teeth, or imagine being chomped. I would be surprised however, if any of us actually contemplated what it would be like after you have been eaten alive.

David Hocking did, and wrote a novel about just that."

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The Secret to Life, via the Marketing Crab.

I studied marine biology at uni but I needed to leave science altogether before I truly understood what it meant to be an industrious, busy little crab. I’m a marketer.
Twice a week I rise at 4am for my working day at a large outdoor market. Thankfully my stall set-up is relatively simple. Competition is high and it took me a while to get a permanent spot, even longer to gain the trust and friendship of my fellow marketers.
Dave (Sagittarius) and Bec (Pisces) next to me sell his colourful paintings, two of which hang in my house. The bubbly and ridiculous George, diagonally opposite, sells wine glasses he paints. He’s another Sagg’ like me and a staunch atheist, even though he freely admits he’s had past lives.
Heidi (Capricorn), directly opposite, is a loud, bustling blonde whose smile is larger than my car. She makes clothes for kiddies and, like her, they’re not normal. My other neighbour Jude (Gemini) sells bags adorned with prints of Australian fauna. Every morning I ask her how her horses are. She appears in front of me looking all dreamy-eyed. “They’re great!” she says. “I had such a beautiful ride in the forest yesterday.” She asks if I’ve been surfing and I tell her my ups and downs. Soon, it’s my job to read out everyone’s star-sign.
Then the first early-bird customers begin ambling down our aisle, all rugged-up. (Yes, Queensland can be cold in the morning.) We crabs smile and cajole, and talk, and laugh, and just like those bustling crustaceans at the ocean’s edge, each of us tries to snag a feed. Oh yes, we look happy and nonchalant in our inviting little stalls but, make no mistake, it’s dog-eat-dog down here in the inter-tidal zone.
“What’s wrong with people today?” George’ll ask me, frantic, if early sales are bad. It might be the weather, the music, the economy – who knows?
Unlike most stall-holders, I sell a book that needs explaining. After two years of this I’ve probably had decent discussions with over 10,000 people. Like my colleagues, I now consider myself an expert in body language, but I’ll tell you something else I’ve learnt:
Each of us arrives as a blank canvus and we’re painted-on by a set of genes, family histories, religion, society, friends. Look into someone’s eyes properly. You’ll see a spiritual being who, no matter what they are talking about, is uttering the following phrases:

I want to get love.
I want to give love.
I want to have fun.

All you have to do is listen and love them back.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

The Mothers Day Swell - a surfing poem!

G'day, Hock here.

The following poem is not mine. It's Jack's. It belongs out in the world, however.
I've attempted to get in touch with him but that man just dont answer his phone.
But I have his permission. I've already read it on radio, here in Noosa.
He orated this poem aloud to me and a few others, Christmas Day in about 2009.
He agreed to write it down on paper and mail it to me, which he did.
But he wrote it years before that, I'm pretty sure. 
At the time I didn't surf.
And I considered it one of the best Australian peoms I've ever heard.
Now I surf. And life isn't normal. At least, it'll never be same again....
So, thanks again Jack Roberton, where ever you are.
Enjoy.... love Hock x

Jack Roberton. Lennox Head, NSW.

“The Mother’s Day Swell.”

No-one knows from where it came
This rumour as it were
But for the tribes of the Northern Rivers
Disbelievin’ was a slur

For only once or twice in any surfers life
do not words such as these betray
of a great southern swell
of what size who could tell
was arriving the following day

Now preparations for a challenge ahead vary in personal choice,
And who should say of another man’s way
Can any soul sound his voice?
For the pulse of the ocean played a different beat to those that slumbered that night
Some were serene,
others frantically dreamed,
most tossed and turned ‘til first light.

Dawn revealed an almighty sea,
Of one like never before,
For some she was a temptress,
For some a banchong whore.

From ‘Angas’ to the ‘Shine’,
And all the bays between;
For each man and his indicator,
The sight remains unseen.

This beast of a sea disfigured the shore,
It pounded the rocky heads!
Now decisions take time,
And for many that’s fine,
And some cowered back to their beds.

But there’s always a few who know what to do,
Where to go, and to whom to speak...
And a handful had gathered to hear the old man,
For none had done more time on the peak.

Ol’ Brocky had lived at the point,
For god knows how many years
And he had ridden with the best of ‘em,
Yet he was fightin’ back the tears

“To this task I am no equal,
Yet to the edge I’ve had my trips.
And as all of you know, when it comes you must go,
Or the seas bitterness will remain on ya lips.

I’ve tasted her many flavours,
I’ve seen her in every light;
But this battle is yours my brothers,
And to the ‘button’ you must take the fight.”

A few of the men shuffled to and fro,
Some glanced around at their feet,
“Her morning sickness is over,” he said,
“It’s time for you to meet.
But one thing you must know
before you go confronting such a test;
Wave selection is critical boys,
So paddle for only the best!”

.....T’was the wild man from down Yamba’s way,
That broke the ol man’s spell;
“I’ve waited all my bloody life to challenge such a swell!
I’ll ‘ave a crack at anything,
Just you watch me ‘ave my fun.
An abit o’ advice if yas was thinkin’ twice -
Out there you need a gun!”

Well, Baddy glanced around ,
To see who was in for a show.
A couple o’ locals who knew the point thought they might ‘ave a go.
The Goldy boys looked doubtful,
Their boards were mighty thin......
“If ya think y’all catch one with those,” he scoffed;
“Ya gotta be bloody kiddin’.”...

And there were two big boards that lay away,
Of whose names he hadn’t seen;
And he met the gaze of two young lads; one solid, the other lean.
And over the rumble of another set,
He yelled, “Let class begin.....”
And he noticed that the one lad winked,
The other gave a nod ‘n grin.

Now, half the battle in such a sea,
Is getting out through the foam;
And for some they battled it bravely,
.....’til she turned their heads for home.

But the crowds of people, who lined the hill,
Excitement it did not lack;
For the sea ‘respects’ the patient,
And a handful had made it out back.

Now the worth of many a good surfer
Is in the number of waves that he gets;
Yet it is in the wisdom of the waterman,
That can read between the sets
For the nervous ones caught the first that came,
They were itchin’ for a ride;
But only a few sat out on the peak,
Waiting – for a change in tide.

Few words were exchanged, each deep in thought
It was Baddy who cleared the air;
And he turned to face the two young lads,
That sat to meet his stare.
“There’s a few locals ‘round ere you boys will meet,
An’ me you’ll get to know.
But it don’t get like this too much
So when it comes you must go.

Be sure to ride with style ‘n savvy,
This is no place for tricks.
I know you boys ain’t from round ‘ere
Cos’ i’m unfamiliar with ya sticks.”

“They’re from Hawa....” one began to say
But he stopped in his reply
For the horizon had taken on a different shape
And the sea had become one with the sky.

They started scratchin’ for the horizon
Each deciding where to wait
But Baddy’s experience had told him
Just to resign himself to fate.

He made it over the first two
On the third he got to his feet.....
But his strength in his paddle was lacking
And he knew that he was beat.

He was pitched from crest to trough
‘n it made the people wince
‘n he was washed up onto the beach
And his board ain’t been seen since.

But the two young lads paddled further out
They knew where they wanted to be
For back in the islands they’d heard from a friend
The existence of an outside bombie.
He’d told them of the line-ups
The right conditions were hard to find
“But if ya ever get it on,” he said.
“It’ll be sure to blow your mind.”

It was as they topped the tenth wave
That they knew they’d found their place;
And that the wave after the next one
Was the challenger they would face.
It was the biggest of the set,
T’was the ‘peaking’ of the swell
It’s line reached across the bay
.....It looked like heaven and hell!

It drew its water off the reef
But the two lads held their ground
And it wasn’t until it started to feather
That they turned their boards around

And paddling hard and paddling strong
They stroked into the peak
And a ‘roar’ could be heard as they got to their feet.....
Yet not a spectator was able to speak

They could be seen riding down the face
But were lost then they reached the trough
And by the ‘explosion’ of the white-water
It was assumed they were knocked off

Well moments passed
The anxiety grew

The tension hung in the air....
And it took some time for the mist to clear
To reveal the two lads.....
Still there!

They leant on their inside rails
Each responding to the cue
And crouching low, its energy drawn
Up in to a high line they flew

Well it’s “Mozart” that comes to mind when recalling the line
that they drew before i say more....

for they glided across that feathering wall...
like in a canyon does the great condor.

They seemed to know each others’ style
Criss-crossing with arcing cutbacks
And when one’d soul arch
The other ‘strokin’ the cat’
Their lines resembled rail-road tracks

They rode right outta sight
And still nobody spoke
And it was Baddy who broke the silence
..... “Who the fuck are those blokes?”

“From an island up north,” the old man replied
“Out off Moreton Bay.
I heard they grew up surfin’ outer banks
But where exactly it’s hard to say.

An’ I once ‘eard a rumour of an open lagoon that I believe gets bloody good
An’ there’s some long left only those boys have surfed
And they called it
The ‘Bay of Wood’.”

Little more is known, though much has been said.....
Of that day back in May
And the events have gone down in the archives...
And are still spoken of today

And should you ask the ‘ol man
Who still lives at the point
If he has any stories to tell

He’ll recall the time
The ‘Bribie Boys’ drew the line
On that memorable
‘Big Mothers’ Day Swell’!!

Jack Roberton. 2000

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Latest Name Guru Youtube videos....!

With the upcoming US presidential elections, I thought it only fair to record Barack and Mitt for properity. Ditto, Jodie, Ryan, and some minor debacles in the creation of Paul....

I hope you enjoy them, and





and Jodie for good measure...

love love love


Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Why are we here?

Check out my new worldwide $15 marketing campaign....

Found the following poem/essay/commentary in an old file from 2001......

The Modern World.

Health insurance
Car insurance
House insurance
Boat insurance
Investment portfolios
Maximum output
Maximum time utilisation
Personal assessment
Economic rationalisation
Best mobile phone deal
Best diet
Low fat mobile phone
High returns
No time wasting
The right d├ęcor
The right garden
The right pet
The right way to behave
The right way to order a meal
The right way to drive
The right way to think
The right way to have sex
The right way to urinate
The right milk
The right deodorant
The right shampoo
The right look
The right supermarket
The right workout
Personal goals
Career aspirations
Good foundations
Disenfranchised breakfast cereal
Money money money
Quick quick quick
No wasted opportunity
The right holiday
Hurry; got it; smile for the camera and clench buttocks- CLICK, yes!!

Welcome to the west.

The end.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Another market day, life, death, blindness, greatness, etc

 Hello ladies and gentlemen,

And welcome to another segment from the markets, which have been unaffected despite the turmoil in Greece and Europe. Indeed, not much has changed. Aside, of course, from the wonderful blend of weirdos that show up at my stall, here at the Eumundi markets. 'Why shouldn't I call my son Clint?', the book, is the reason we're here today, and fine bunch we're confronted with.
On the right, from left to right, we have, Katie, Linda, Sandra, Kyle (the name of the facial expression given to a man who has just been kicked in the nuts), Vanitta, Jane and Warren ( looking away, and i dont blame him.)
According to the book, and the Name Guru app.....

Warren: As a variety of ferret, Warren is pure white in colour when he is clean but, generally, he's a dull shitty brown, he smells odd and he bites. 

 A quick family message now. My cousin, Dani, is married to a crazy South African (when are they not?) called Pook. He goes bike riding, (and in this case, the kind of bike riding where you leap off rocks, fall 20 metres and hope that the top of the gum tree you're falling into will catch you) with the bloke on the right, whose name is Pat. To be honest, he doesnt look like a 'Pat'. His partner Sue, arrived on almost a record day for 'Sue'. i met at least 8 of them. Maybe more. Indeed, is it the most common name in Austrlia for girls over the age of 25? Anyway, it was lovely to 

Yep. Me hard at work.....

The girls, from left to right, Pam, Meril, Elaine, Gail, Lisa, Mel, Kate, Kim, Leisa and another Lisa, there at the end. No, they weren't there in a group, although they kind of look like they should be. No, none of them bought a book, i just like the photo.....
There were a couple of photos I never took, or rather didn't think to take, but I'd like to tell you the story, in case  you're having a day that you think isn't that much fun.... About two weeks ago, the first week of May, give or take, I was at my stall dealing with a stack of people in front of me, when two girls arrived, Phoebe and Fiona. Being totally blind, Fi held Phoebe's arm tight and they stayed at my stall for ages. Laughing bloody hard. I mean, both girls weren't shy, and after two years at the markets, nearly, only a few times can I recall the volume of laughter being similar. Phoebe could barely read aloud her name theory.....

Pheobe: Her father is certifiably insane, which explains why Phoebe is as complicated as she is. So it's not all her fault, classically speaking, but Phoebe is pretty cool. Keep and eye on her if you like, but she'll be fine.

Bloody funny. Likewise, both of them utterly killed themselves with laughter at Fiona's description.
Fi: "Get out of my way!" she barks, heading for the bar/party/car keys/front of the queue/fridge/bedroom/spa/diving platform/dance floor/anything.

After recovering somewhat, she tilts her head in my direction, people and noise all around us and says, "Yeah! I'm in AA, too!"
Evidently, she just had her hair done, which is why she liked Fiona....

Fiona:There are no in-betweens with Fiona. Either she's plain and a bit dull, or she is incredibly sexy, ambitious, charasmatic and occasionally stressed. Regardless of which one she is, however, Fiona would go to the hairdresser every day if she could. Outside her bad days - of which there are at least five every week - she's surprisingly chilled out.

The following market day, Wendy and Michael ( ???I think...) arrived at my stall and Wendy was in raptures from start to finish. She couldn't believe her name theory, and how hilariously accurate it was....

Wendy: Like a shower that seems to have a personality all to itself, Wendy is scattered, lively and occasionally slightly awkward.

Her and Michael (catholic school boy........if it was memory is a little vague here, and I cant find my notes for the day..) stayed for a while, checked out a stack of names and left. they didn't buy a book and that was okay. But, having thought about, Wendy suddenly appeared through some people back at my stall ten minutes or so later, determined to take one away.
"We're having drinks later with a friend of ours who has terminal cancer. She's got a great sense of humour and will love this book," Wendy said.
The ladies name is Peta, and apparently it is melanoma. I asked Wendy how Peta was coping, how she was dealing with the notion that it was all about to come to some kind of 'end', and she smiled. She said she was great, and dealing with it brilliantly.

These are the moments I love the most - knowing that the book is out there making people laugh hard.

And for the record....

Peta: All of us have issues of some variety and Peta's stem from having to repeatedly prove her feminity to the world. Not that she gives a shit, really, but the result is a tough and independent hombre.

Amen to that. And don't forget the sunscreen.

Love hock xx

I'll see you streaming live on air at, Mondays 4pm East Australia time....

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Excerpt from, "The shark that ate Tommy Shoalhaven"

On a spring morning of cloudless blue sky in Western Australia, a teenage boy is attacked in the waters off Cottesloe Beach by a massive great white shark, so beginning an oceanic odyssey.
Two years later, as another great white is the suspected culprit for a series of attacks along the same stretch of coastline, two local marine biologists think they see a pattern to the carnage and hatch a crazy plan of their own. But they’ll need some help.
Are you ready to enter the water?

A brief excerpt...

Nathan, at 26, was two years younger than Brian and both of them had been nowhere near the water on the day Tommy was taken, two years before. It still felt like yesterday in lots of ways. The mood around the club after that day was dreadful. People were fearful, disappointed and bitterly angry that they couldn’t participate in their respective sports – clean, upstanding and outdoorsy sports that highlighted both strength and spirit in a person. It was never discussed openly but this was the fact that irked people the most. This was their beach, their strip of water, and how dare some animal come in and just take one of them when it felt like it?
What the shark did was considered to be an immoral aberration – not evil, exactly, but close – and many took it very personally. But time is a cure-all and despite the near-miss with that bloke last year, it was only over the past six months or so that people had started to swim and paddle again with the same enthusiasm as before. Talk of sharks and big dangerous sharks, especially, was secretly frowned upon as being negative, although most club members couldn’t let it out of their minds completely. How could they? Tommy had been killed right here – right out the front – and how lucky had that bloke been, rushed in the shallows like that, last year? But, powering close to the coast on water that was milky-grey and as quiet as a churchyard made some things easy to forget.
‘Okay Nath’, let’s go mate,’ Brian encouraged his training partner. Nathan replied with a sharp, ‘Yep.’
During the first couple of circuits they’d talked intermittently about work, the club, the girls at the club and what they had planned for the weekend, but with a lap to go both men were panting hard and working harder. They had perfect ski conditions and the only sounds were the slap of paddle-on-water and their heavy breathing. They could see the bottom easily enough when they took the time to look. Nathan enjoyed the flecks of black reef that skirted beneath them as a tangible measure of their velocity. It felt good to be out there, although that would have changed had they known that, for the past twenty minutes, they were being stalked and analysed from beneath the surface.
Brian was paddling on the beachside of Nathan, only a few metres to his right, when the edge of his peripheral vision captured a rush of black beneath him that couldn’t have been reef. The giant shark rushed up at him, smashed into his shiny white surf-ski. In the most horrific moment of his life Brian was tossed into the air like a discarded doll with the vivid picture in his mind of a huge great white with the front half of his ski in its mouth. His world unravelled. In slow motion, he willed himself not to fall back into the water with the beast that was about to bite him in half. Winded and panic stricken, he hit the water at the same time as Nathan who fell off his ski when the shark crashed across his bow. Both men were now in the water with their greatest living nightmare....


More coming soon!

the eBook will be available at.... 

Apple iBookstore (for ipad)
Amazon (for Kindle)
Barnes and Noble (for Nook)
Reader Store (for Sony Reader)
Baker and Taylor

Hardcopy via Amazon and Barnes & Noble...

love hock !

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Barack, Baby Names etc etc


Welcome Sportsfans to yet another week in the life of The Markets, specifically the stall that sells the book, "Why shouldn't I call my son Clint?", and that is now available on iphone/Androids.

We begin today with a rather lovely lady who was bereft of words after reading what her name theory suggested about her personality..

Libby: Bipolar. Be careful.

Mmmm....hello again Libby and how do you do? It's true; many people read the 'Libby' story and are flaggerghasted at how accurate it is, but I must say it is therefore a delight to meet an exception to the rule. I think.

From left to right, we soon had Alexandra, Cailen, Sue, Kim and Pamela arrive on the scene. Bloody funny all round, to be honest. Alexandra wasn't exactly delighted with her story from the app and the book....

Alexandra: "Where's my pony, mother? I WANT MY PONY!!'

Enough said, really, and the look on her face says it all. Hello Alexandra!! xx

Sue, at the head of the pack in the red hair led the charge and took no prisoners on her estimation of the book. I'm not surprised really.

Sue: Sue is the sort of woman that will buy a rabbit infested shithole of a property and spend the next 40 years transforming it into an award winning example of re-claiming of native lands, of reforestation and of environmentalism. Thankyou Sue.

As I say, thank you Sue.

Now, below we have the beautiful Gaenna, who up until this blog entry didn't exist in either the book or the Name Guru app. Gaenna, here is your name theory that will be in the app come next update, happening soon.......

Gaenna: Like the male Einar, Gaenna rhymes with '"When do you think you're gonna'?" but this girl never trained in martial arts, and she never learned how to kill a man with a single forefinger jab to the neck. However, Gaenna probes and looks and thinks and smiles and thinks some more, and then arrives at the solution with a unique kind of grace and energy. Does that make sense?

By the way, in one of those weird modern phenomenons, Gaenna's middle name is K. As in, like Special K. just K.

Noel, pictured right, read his name theory, had a laugh, looked at me and says, "Yep. I've done that heaps."

From the book and the Name Guru app....

Noel: It happens to men more than women I think, but ‘Noel’ is the name of the rather tragic splash that occurs whenever a mobile phone is accidentally dropped into the dunny while a person is taking a piss.

By the way, I'm trying to get Barack Obama's name theory to him. let me know if you can help.....

Barack: The smooth walkin' black man with a big sack. He ain't no hack, so you won't need to watch his back, an' all he really needs is some marines to go on the attack. "Attack who?" you ask. He stops and looks at you evenly, ensures he's got your attention and then says, "Fear. That's what we need to attack."

So be it, Young Barack, but you don't need marines, brother, 'cause all you need is love. Amen/Inshallah xx

fascinating universe, what.

see you at the markets, or on Noosa Community Radio, Monday arvo's from 4-6pm. 101.3Fm if you're into live streaming....

love hock

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Does your name influence your personality?

Greetings sportsfans,

It's mid February here in sunny Noosa and "Why shouldn't i call my son Clint?" rolls along. A lot of Clints have visited the Eumundi markets lately, and I'm gratified and delighted, as ever, that not a few of them took with them copies of the book. You cant beat a Clint with a sense of humour, I reckon.

Several people have skipped the book entirely and gone straight to the 'Nam Guru' app, available for all Apple and Androids. The romantic compatibility function is the thing they love the most, so I hear. But I digress.....

Some of the recent visitors to the stall at the Eumundi markets....above left to right we have, John(the boulder out near the edge of town), Christine(CEO/author), Pamela(picked up a nice Mercedes from her divorce), Peter(goodluck with that, Pete!), Shirley(lives for bubble baths), James(never done a hard days work in his life!!) and Paula(beautiful but oh so close to catastrophe!) .

A happy bunch - thank you!

Now, Justin and Monique arrived (left). According to the book and the Name Guru app, Justin is the name given to what happens to a bowl of cereal if left too long. eg- it's a soggy disaster. Blow me down with a feather when he told me that he especially LOVES SOGGY CEREAL!! Justin: you're a legend. Monique was equally delighted.

Monique: The living embodiment of a chook raffle.

As I told them, I never wrote the book as a baby name book but cripes, pregnant people love it. For the record, in the 'Name Guru' app compatibility stakes, Justin and Monique record the following score.....

10/10 !!

Frequency of sexual relations(according to the app): Every 45 minutes. tantric, usually.

Never a dull moment, as i say.

Now, Louise and Scarlett.....look at these two, will you. Scarlett is the daughter, and according to both book and app, she will turn into a vixen from head to tail! She'll be a passionate girl in both love and hate and will delight in wearing bright colours in her predominantly red hair.

And check out the young dude on the right watching the whole thing. No idea who he is, but he adds to photo perfectly...

Then of course, we had the chicks arrive!!

Left to right, Caitlin (the train crash, Samara (the tribal bonfire in PNG), Carol (the gentle and good-natured Loggerhead turtle) and Victoria (the proud horse.)

Indeed, Victoria, I interviewed a horse once for the Name Guru app.......

Thank you girls.......and you look nothing like the 'Victoria' in the interview, Victoria!

Later, the father and daughter team of Warren and Holly showed up. Dad was abit flummoxed at the description of Warren in the book. Indeed, he began to turn red in the face with either excitment or anger - I wasn't sure...

Warren: A variety of ferret, Warren is pure white in colour when he's clean but, generally, he's a dull shitty brown, he smells odd and he bites.

Holly, on the other hand, was all smiles because, basically, Holly is skilled, loved and loving, and she can do anything that she bloody well likes! Amen Holly! Hard to believe he's your dad!! (...just kidding!)

thank you, you two. I hope you're enjoying the book!

Last but not least, check out this rabble, will you? From left to right......Jack(the phenomenon of a parcel arriving in the post from a good friend- although modern school teachers disagree, Jack), Jacob(a possible Baptist minister), Michael (catholic school boy, political fundraiser, engineer, etc, etc), Ebony (back) - very energetic and possible parana in her next reincarnation), Alexandra ("Where's my pony, mother? I want my pony??!!!"), Kate (ahh....the glorious breathe you take before diving into a perfect blue sea), Rebecca (the gifted intellectual who might be a racehorse wearing blinkers and finally, Emily (the table manners world champion!). somehow i doubt that, Emily!

What a team, eh?

Until next time at the markets, good luck and god bless.

And all sunshine coast residents can catch me Monday afternoons on Noosa Community, 101.3FM from 4-6pm.

It's a PARTY FOR ONE!!!!!!

love to all,

Hock xoxo

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Name Guru app and a man called Clint!

Yes, goodafternoon sportfans,

and what tremendous conditions we've had lately. Remember, of course, that your name, the sound of your name, is reacted to in a very particular way by the world, and it's that reaction that you walk into as you evolve.

You don't believe me?

This is Maureen. She arrived at my stall, here in Eumundi, where I sell, "Why shouldn't i call my son Clint?" and she was flummoxed at her name theory.

This is a little convoluted but you'll be okay.

From the book, and the Name Guru app.....

Maureen: See the male George.

For a start, Maureen read that and exploded with something between pure disgust and raging good humour. I'll explain why in a tic. So, anyway, she went to the boy section to look up George...

George: Plonk goes the dollop of cream on top of the apple pie.

At this piont, Maureen began to laugh hard, bending over and using my table to brace herself against.

"George is the name of my ex-husband," she said. "He was bloody useless!"

I laughed with her.

"How did you know that?" she asked me.

As usual, I shrugged. "I don't Maureen. I repeat the name and these images about the personality come into my head. I don't know where from."

'Well bugger me," she said.

Not long after Maureen, these likely lads turned up. David, on the left, and Paul. Looks like true love to me.

And yes, my name is David, also. As a little side exercise, if you're bored, have a try and writing your own name theory......anyway

David: The heavy D's at both ends weigh his name down like the legs of a Bass Strait oil platform, and to this end he may be too deep and sensitive for his own good. However, the "V" in the middle provides a powerful launchpad for virtually anything. We wish him well.

Paul: Paul is an interesting persona. A polite man whose depths sometimes take years to see, he's intelligent enough, normal enough and he almost never falls ill. To maintain a perfect balance in his life, however, he must perform some semi-evil act every six months. Paul is a deceptively tall name and without some kind of dirty little secret to keep him real, he'd just topple over.

David says to me, "Should I keep the hoola-hoop in the photo?"

Paul and I laughed at him immediately.

'You must," I told him.

Thank you gentlemen.

Now, one of my bloody idols. Jake. How many people have I met at the markets? I don't know - thousands. At least several thousand, probably. And the people I love the most are those whose 'name theories' are potentially challenging, for they're the ones who see the reason I wrote this book, now the Name Guru app.

All of us need to laugh at ourselves. No question.

Jake: Jake has more pornography in his bedroom than any other male. He was once caught masturbating by his mother, who burst into his room to find him standing over an upturned TV with his trousers around his ankles, and with Jake the Snake in his hand. He didn't return to the house for days and, yes, he did eventually move out. He now wears a flannel shirt.

And in a separate story, that's about the coolest hat that's come past my stall. You're a legend Jake. Thanks for stopping by and I hope "Why shouldn't i call my son Clint?" is treating you well.

Now, this girl's name is Gai Lemon. Yes, she's gay. She discovered that very early, but only came out when she was 28. (Thank you society for being such a stick in the bloody mud!)

She's a celebrant these days. At least, I'm pretty sure she is (you are, gai!!). I lost your card!

Gai: Gai is not all that feminie and she is quite bare-knuckled about it all but if you want to get something done in a hurry, and done properly, then you could do a lot worse than getting her on board.

She was a bloody gem, and yes, she laughed hard on reading her name theory.

What a weird and wonderful life it is, huh? is where you can find the app, for iphones/Android. Or you can get the book from me, or from Amazon.

As is it, I'll be at the Eumundi markets wed and sat until my life ends. I'll see you there.....

love hock xx