ok, so images are up and runnin, runnin like an ant on speed, like a fat businessman on a treadmill on his lunchbreak, like a predator after its prey. and up! up! up! like the sky, like the space between fingers and unused words, like the screams of eagles fans round perth today.

also on the topic of the eagles' victory against the sydney swans, about which i care little except for the joy one gets in observing those who do care, and how! so anyway the best line that came out of the general yobbo cacophony reverberating around the tv today as the final minutes of the game drippled and fizzled was: "oy, that umpire's as soft as a fucken mocassin!"

and then there's been the sun and the shine and the first sketches of what is going to be a grand and productive season of beachbumming with all the kitsch that that entails, the coconut oil, the crosswords, and yes, even the occasional shakira on the way to the beach, because the summer, the summer! how it clears the mind and the blood of all unclarity! how it makes one even approve of the occasional tacky!

and my car, old rusty old pal, the ugliest object ever produced by man, got gleefully yellow-stickered by a couple o' cops late late night somewhere in the nedlands vicinity (which some like to simply refer to as 'the hood'): "you're a motorist's worst nightmare!" said one cop upon inspection of the greasy contents of the bonnet. and then the other, after repremanding me for my thoughtless flicking of a cigarette butt on the road, informed me that had i been in the state of colorado, i would've got a hefty fine for that. It's amazing how helpful the australian police force can be. now i know never to flick a butt in colorado. and i'm car-less.