weirdy beardie day out

I get up late by which time Elvis has left the building.

I have a mild sore head this morning, ( not drink inflicted I hasten to add) although my foostie thumb is now pretty much a foost free zone. My panda tan is adequately fading and I am in a reasonably good mood. The dolphins people have been in touch to say that they have rebooked the dolphin trip for tomorrow Sunday
So, I lounge around a little, shower and get myself out the house, after which it goes horribly horribly wrong.

First stop I decide that I am going to visit Penguin Island just off the coast of Rockingham, it?s a mystery why they have penguins there as naively I always associate penguins with polar ice caps and the like, however I may well stand corrected on this point. So I gets there and its CLOSED, I mean how can you close an island exactly, but its closed and the ferry there isn?t running until the end of the month. I suspect perhaps they don?t have any penguins there at all and its all a big tourist ploy to get you to visit there penguin gift shop.

So spontaneously I decide that I will go karting as its nearby ish, so I head on up there and this time the gates are open, so im thinking that im on a winner. I get there and its CLOSED. I mean Saturday afternoon and the bloke says they don?t hire any karts out after 12. Are you having a giraffe or what.
Ok, so im thinking what can I do now and I see a sign for Perths motorplex race track, I think winner that?s for me, so I drive on up there and sure enough its CLOSED.

Strike three and Im ready for home fresh out of ideas, until I here part of a radio advert. From the bit that I can make out its says fairbridge vintage rally, twenty thousand people expected to attend over the days its open.

Happy days I am saved, so I travel over there which takes me close to an hour from where I am, get there and sure enough there is four whole massive fields filled with cars and another two whole fields filled with caravans and motorhomes etc.

So I mosey on up to the entrance and pay my $15, a reasonable amount I think considering the delights that are promised within, only to be disappointed exactly 3 minutes and 25 seconds after entering. (make your own joke up here)

The vintage rally is old steam things and tractors, theres even a truck with princess Diana painted on it and I am astounded that the aussies have closed an island, closed a karting track, closed a speedway to look at tractors as they are here in there droves.

The place has every james may weirdy beardy type in WA and beyond here and I think that at least one of them has to be the outback killer that we haven?t mentioned for at least a few blogs.

I see a sign for chainsaw demonstration and my spirits lift, thinking that something cool is going to happen like he is going to sculpt a totem pole or an owl or something out a single piece of log. I stand corrected as its just two weirdy beardy blokes both overweight chopping short sections of a log with their various chainsaws. This is the Mk1 chainsaw, This is the Mk2 Chainsaw.

I get covered in saw dust as its windy and I move onto the next delight they have in store for me, which is the axe men of WA. Now, this is a bit controversial I think, as they have a lad no more than 10 years old standing on top of a log with a dirty great big axe. He doesn?t have an safety gear on, in fact he has a pair of plimsoles and track suit bottoms on. I mean hows that going to save him exactly when the dirty great big axe slips and embeds itself into his shins, I ask ya.

Anways, he is having a race with his big brother as who can chop through there log the quickest, the big brother wins, as he has a bigger chopper but fair play to the young lad. However, what parent in their right mind gives there little boy a sharp axe and says, go on son knock yourself out there, have some fun chopping wood dangerously close to your unprotected feet and legs.

I then spot a sign that simply says WOMENS INTRESTS and vintage tools. So I take a walk over to the hall that this is located in, there not a single man in sight in this hall and its filled with women of a wide age range from ancient to relatively middle aged knitting, sowing, croqueting, selling cakes, card making kit and bric a brac. It was like a trip back in time. I firmly believe in all forms of equality in this modern age but this was like a BBC warning broadcast for Women To Know Their Limits. I over hear one women saying, No Bessie don?t try and move that stall on your own, that?s mens work. I kid you not, Mavis Beacon eat your heart out. I mean women died for the suffragette movement and this is the best that you can come up with while your husbands are stroking another mans tractor.

Rache from work would feel right at home with this lot, except she might have to burn her bra afterwards to reliberate her freedom, AND she married a beardy bloke.


I see a cake stall that says its for Lepresy foundation, like anybodies going to eat anything from that stall, its unmanned and tells you to ask inside if you want anything, eh naw thanks.

I have photographic evidence to support all of this, but I settle on weirdy beardy chainsaw man as he looks like he posed for yesterdays graffiti.

I leave the place behind and go and phone home to discover that my house is still an aquarium and my boilers blown up, after which I have oysters plus fish and chips which was jolly nice.

I see father dear on the way home and he asks if Im still pissed at him, which I am, however he apologises which was nice and a turn up for the books so water under the bridge. This makes going to the dolphin thing a lot easier tomorrow.

He also informs me that he has been in touch with his long lost mate from back home that emigrated and he will be staying with them from Monday until the end of the holiday, so I will have the place to myself.