Westprint Friday Five – Friday 5th February 2021
You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late.
FREE postage on ALL folded paper maps. Laminated maps rolled in mailing tubes still have postage added as below.
FREE postage on ALL orders over $100- for delivery within Australia
Otherwise there is a flat rate postage rate of $9.50 on all books, DVDs and talking books, regardless of the number of items ordered.
Our opening hours are mostly back to normal. ie. 9.00 AM to 5.00 PM. We are closed for lunch from 12.30 to 1.30, and it's still a good idea to phone 0353911466 or 0458 378 373 before travelling to ensure someone will be in the office.
Friday Five Books
- Miniature Lives $40.00. provides a range of simple strategies that people can use to identify and learn more about the insects in their homes and gardens. Featuring a step-by-step, illustrated identification key and colour photographs, the book guides the reader through the basics of entomology (the study of insects). Simple explanations, amusing analogies and quirky facts convey information on diet, lifecycle, habitat and risks in a way that is both interesting and easy to understand. Identifying an insect using field guides or internet searches can be daunting Miniature Lives allows the reader to identify an insect without having to capture or touch it. Paperback. 334 pages.
- Spider Watch $32.95. Guide to Australian Spiders.Spiderwatch ia a comprehensive guide for those who wish to find, identify and understand Australian spiders.Illustrated with an identification guide, colour drawings and photographs, Spiderwatch is an easy to use and practical field manual. It contains advice on where to find spiders and how to draw, photograph and take notes on them as well as on anatomy and evolution. More than 100 of the most frequently encountered Australian spiders are depicted. Most of these are described in detail, with information on toxicity, habitat and prey capture. As well, Spiderwatch includes facts on Australia's dangerous spiders and advice on first aid. This edition 2008 176 pages. Paperback
- The Supply Party $39.95. Martin Edmond. One of Australia’s best known explorer stories, the ill-fated expedition of Burke and Wills is generally presented as an either an adventure story or a moral tale of the pitfalls experienced by ill-prepared early explorers in the first years of European settlement in Australia. Author Martin Edmond offers a more philosophical approach to the story, focusing on the background and experience of the expedition naturalist and artist Ludwig Becker. First published in 2009. Soft cover 209 pages
- Camps Australia Wide 10. SPECIAL $39.95 - near cost price. Normal cost inc. post $74.45 Camps 11 is due out soon and we have 3 copies of the current edition left on the shelf. This Special is only valid until 15/2 unless sold out.
- Camps Australia Wide 10 - Mega Edition SPECIAL $59.95 - near cost price. Normal cost inc. post $104.45 Camps 11 is due out soon and we have 3 copies of the current edition left on the shelf. This Special is only valid until 15/2 unless sold out.
From last week
I enjoyed the stats on WA, some of the places I have been to, but gee it is a huge state. The most easterly town caught me because I would have said Kununurra but, at 128.7655 compared to Eucla at 128.8891 it misses out by about 18 kilometres. I think in terms of what constitutes a town though Eucla with less than 100 people is really a tiny town. Trevor
Trevor’s comment made me think. What defines a town in Australia, or for that matter a city? And why don’t we use descriptive words like hamlet, village etc. I’ve been fortunate to spend some time in the city of Ripon in the north of England. It earned its right to be called a city because it has a cathedral. Australia is not really known for its medieval cathedrals so what defines a city in Australia? According to an answer I found from Macquarie Uni there are three ways to be classified as an Australian city.
- Based on population - 30,000 (Orange in the mid-west of NSW was described as a city in the 1970s when its population reached 30,000)
- If it has a cathedral. (Bathurst, also in the mid-west of NSW was a city in the 1970s when the population was about 20,000 because it had two cathedrals)
- If it has a university.
A town is defined as: a human settlement. Towns are generally larger than villages and smaller than cities. If we don’t have villages, how do we know when we live in a town? Your thoughts and comments appreciated. Jo
The following is an article from Walkabout Magazine 1959 sent to me by Candace. It is fascinating reading. I have left all spelling as it appeared in the original article.
The author, Mr David Kennon, who is ‘on the land’ near Swan Hill, Victoria, is a young man in his early twenties. But both he and Mr David Wilson, his companion on this “adventure of a life-time”, were not inexperienced in outback travel; nor did they embark on their long, lonely journey without very careful preparations and planning. Their journey is believed to have been the first made from Alice Springs by vehicle out west of the Petermann Ranges and across the Gibson Desert through to Wiluna, in east-central Western Australia. The latter section is included in the Woomera Rocket Range and, as Mr Kennon stresses, entry into it is forbidden without official permission. One day, however, this route, taking in as it does Ayers Rock and Mount Olga may prove to be the most absorbing “safari” in Australia.
"All right then, we’ll do it.” So, our decision was made, a decision which set us off on an adventure of a lifetime. It was October 1958 when David Wilson and I arrived in Alice Springs after eighteen months of travel in most corners of Australia. This was our second visit to the Alice and now we had two alternatives, to return straight home to Victoria or to carry out a plan which had long been in our minds. We decided on the plan. It involved a complete westerly crossing from Alice to the little town of Wiluna over 1,200 miles away near Meekatharra in W.A. Now this wasn’t easy. It meant traversing a completely uninhabited area, unknown to any but a few white people. Sufficient provisions, fuel and equipment had to be carried for the entire journey, and we had no idea how long it would take.
Permits had to be obtained for entry into native reserves and Giles, the Commonwealth Government Weather Station in the Rawlinson Ranges. Finally, we had to get a two-way radio and arrange to operate it through the Alice Springs base of the Flying Doctor Service. It was to be our only link with the outside world.
At last, however, all was ready, and with the Land Rover thoroughly checked and loaded with food for six weeks, 100 gallons of fuel, 20 gallons of water and essential spare parts, we departed. What lay ahead we didn’t quite know. My partner, David Wilson, had a remarkable link with outback exploration. His great-grandfather was William Kekwick, second-in-command and close friend of John McDouall Stuart on that great explorer’s epic journeys across the continent. Mt Russell which we were to pass in the Petermann Ranges, was named after his grandfather, who led several parties by camel into the far east of Western Australia in the ’nineties. The run to Curtin Springs Station took us past Renner’s Rock homestead, once the home of famous bushman Bob Buck, the Henbury Station buildings, the ruins of the old Mt Quinn homestead, and old Bill Liddle’s” Angas Downs, one of the earliest selections in the area. A gentle breeze grew into a howling dust storm as we passed the Kernot Range and stopped to talk to a wandering Pitchenjarra family, an old man with his scarlet headband (the tribal badge of the fully initiated), his two wives and four children. With great chattering, waving and shrieks from the children, we left them and were soon past the tremendous bulk of Mt Connor to the south, until just on dusk we reached Curtin Springs homestead. Here we fixed a “sked”, the term used for a pre-arranged meeting time on the air. We made it 6.30 a.m. every second morning. This was a safeguard against a failing radio or an accident preventing our transmitting. Also, one is independent of the base and not tied down to its operating times. Later, as we crawled slowly westward through the vast empty land, the cheery voice of “Double Roger (9RR) calling us, “William Easy Uncle (9WEU), was a great comfort.
With good wishes from the Severin family and the tucker box traditionally replenished, we set off for what has become, understandably, the Centre’s greatest attraction, Ayers Rock. The first glimpse of that great pink “pebble rising 1,100 ft. sheer from the plain gives one a feeling of awe perhaps unequalled by any other sight in this country. During the three days we were at the Rock, no one came to interrupt our strange feeling almost of ownership as we walked and climbed around and over its magnificent bulk.
At the lovely Maggie Springs we topped up the water tanks and, after assuring Double Roger of our well-being, proceeded through the sandhills to Mt Olga. It seems almost unfair that Australia should have, only thirty miles apart, two such fantastic objects. Mt Olga has often been compared with “the Rock”. I don’t think they can be compared—but each has its own unique character. Ayers Rock impresses because of its single solid one-ness. Olga, with its five huge domes separated by immense chasms through which the winds blow eternally, and its collection of smaller domes on the east side rising in extraordinary shapes, has an air of unreality: it’s too odd to be true. Here, however, was the end of the tourist road. Ahead lay the 220-mile stretch of virtually unknown country through the Petermann Ranges and across the W.A. border to Giles Weather Station, our half-way mark.
We camped, on leaving Olga, a few miles back along the Ayers Rock track. Soon after dark the sky clouded over and a wind sprang up. Ry midnight a thunderstorm had developed, and heavy rain came in spasms. Sheets of lightning lit up Mt Olga and soon we could see the glow of huge fires burning in the spinifex to the west. It was a spectacular sight, but one which caused us some anxious moments —with 100 gallons of petrol on board!
However, next morning the air was cool and clear as we bounced along in first and second gear at from five to ten miles an hour. The rain had freshened the country. The dark green clumps of spinifex topped by their waving white heads stood out against the rich red of the sandhills, interspersed with thickets of mulga and stands of stately desert oak.
The tracks we were now following were probably first made in 1949 by an expedition which entered the Petermann Range area to search for Lasseter’s Reef. Lasseter is reputed to have found the reef in the area in 1897, but its secret died with him. Over the next few years several Native Affairs vehicles used the tracks. Then in 1957 an adventurous young Alice Springs party took two vehicles out to Giles, and it was they who made the only clear wheel marks before us. We were also very grateful to this party for their sketch maps and information.
With 40 miles covered, what we presumed to be Mt Currie slid slowly by to the north. The smoke from the fires lit by the lightning grew ever closer until, at last, we came to a scene of utter desolation. The fire, on a five-mile front, had burned the spinifex completely away, and the scorched desert oaks stood up forlornly. A strong wind whipped the sand and ashes into choking clouds. Fortunately, within an hour we were through to unburnt country.
At dusk we reached our first landmark, the white sandy bed of Armstrong Creek. A few miles to the south we could see the first ridge of the Petermanns, and in this ridge lay Piltardi Rock Hole. To the blacks who lived in these ranges, and to the white men who have passed through them, Piltardi was all important, for it was one of the few permanent watering places in the area.
A small tributary of the Armstrong runs through a cleft in the main east-west ridge and falls some hundred feet from the higher southern level to the lower northern plain. Time has gouged four deep holes into the sloping rock of the cleft and these, sheltered by high cliffs, store an everlasting supply of water.
Because of this, wildlife abounds in the vicinity. Emu, kangaroo and dingo pads lead into the water like spokes of a wheel and in the evenings hundreds of birds of all types flock to it. We were also amazed to see rabbits in large numbers —the only ones we came across on the trip. Several provided a welcome change to our diet.
For two days we made Piltardi a base from which to penetrate the heart of the Range to visit the grave of Harold Bell Lasseter, which surely lies in one of Australia’s wildest spots, hemmed in by enormous red boulders strewn as if by a giant’s hand across the bare hills. The 16 miles to Lasseter’s grave, which took us over six hours, were probably the roughest going of the trip.
On our last night at Piltardi, I was awakened by David violently banging his head on his swag. Between bursts of anguish, he informed me that an ant had crawled into his ear and was digging its claws into what felt like his ear drum. I thought of a bottle in the tucker box. Its contents were really for quite another purpose, but it had a high percentage of oil. I poured some into the ear. Whether the unfortunate ant was drowned or glued up, I do not know, but the treatment worked, although David was quite deaf for three days.
Giles Meteorological Station, Western Australia, the half-way mark on the author’s journey. Most of its huts are air-conditioned. A big powerhouse provides electricity for lighting, radio and radar. As we moved further towards the border, so the Petermanns increased in height on both sides of us. The main ridge lay to the south scarred by deep clefts, ravines and the “extraordinary mural cliffs” which the explorer, Giles first saw in 1874. Several wide sandy creek beds wound away to the north and from the leaves and small growth in them, it appeared to have been a long time since water had flowed down them.
On the bank of one, which we identified as Irvin’s Creek, were some recently used native gunyahs which provided one of the few evidences of human life in the area. In the bed of the creek itself was a tiny well dug by the natives. On deepening and enlarging the hole, we found that water began seeping in as if by magic. The only evidence of the well from the surface was a slight green tinge in the tussocks of grass nearby.
We made camp one night where the Hull River cuts through the range to form Winters Glen. Here, in the floor of a small cave, Lasseter buried the story of his hardships, as he lived with the natives. As evening approached we climbed the ridge behind the Glen and witnessed a sunset equal to any seen in the famous MacDonnells.
With the sun sinking behind them the ridges to the north-west were turned to deep blue, and their ravines and clefts to black shadows. Sandhills on the flat valley in the foreground became almost scarlet among the dark carpet of mulga and oak. Back towards Piltardi, the wide plain was lit up, with the mural cliffs as a background, and visibility was so clear that every feature showed out as if spotlighted. As we watched, our thoughts had to turn to the tragic figure of Lasseter and his last terrible days at this lonely, but at the moment beautiful, place.
The sea of mulga we had seen the night before posed a difficult problem as we sought a path through it next morning. Although there were no tracks, we reached the other side, but only to find our way barred by big soft sandhills. This meant a long detour to the north, but eventually we found friendly wheel marks once more. Western Australia was now only twenty miles away. This border area was perhaps the most scenically interesting of the trip.
Trees changed from dreary mulga to the weeping desert oak and, along the gullies, old gnarled ghost gums. Grasses and blue salt weed replaced the spinifex, and low yellow ridges of quartzite rose colourfully at the foot of the purple and red ridges of the main range. The great cliffs of the Ruined Ramparts, the outstanding single feature of these ranges, seemed to stand guard over all.
The crossing of the Docker signalled the border. As if to emphasize the fact, a small patch of blackboy trees appeared, almost like a platoon of fossilized border guards, the only ones seen on the whole trip. This western end of the range differs from the rest. The continuous even-topped east-west ridges we had passed were replaced by shorter ones running in all directions and in places rising to over 3,000 feet in jagged peaks. We left the Petermanns and ran along a high, 30-mile ridge which links them to the single 800-feet high and 60-mile-long quartzite chain of the Rawlinson Range.
This ridge is the Schwerin Mural Crescent, and it has the spectacular Giles Pinnacle, a jagged sheer summit rising up to nearly 4,000 feet, at its head. The crescent is quite spectacular, as it curves away in an unbroken arc to the west; and the pinnacle forms a fine natural memorial to that great explorer who first saw this land.
As we jolted through thick mulga again, a strange sight appeared. Hanging in a tree was a large triangular silver object attached by a string to a small white box. David scaled the tree and read out the words on the box. “Please fold down the flaps and deliver to the nearest Post Office.” We were only 500 miles from a Post Office! It turned out to be a tiny radio, and the silver object was a reflector. Both had been attached to a balloon. We learned later that the Weather Station sends up one of these every six hours to gather information, tracking it on radar. We dutifully complied with instructions and took the contraption to Giles.
A couple of days out from Giles we set up our radio to make a final contact with Curtin Springs, now nearly three hundred miles away. To our surprise a new voice came through loud and clear. “Sugar Charlie George, Sugar Charlie George to William Easy Uncle, William Easy Uncle, are you receiving please? Over.”
The deep, experienced voice belonged to Stan Gerraty, radio operator at the Giles weather station. He had followed our progress from Double Roger on the latter’s daily weather “sked” and now wanted to learn our position and expected time of arrival. So, we had a new friend to watch over our welfare.
Almost within sight of the station, we came suddenly to a well-used track. It led to a unique and lovely spot in the range, Glen Cumming. On foot we followed a stony creek bed. High, brilliantly-coloured rocky walls rose on either side as we penetrated right into the range. Native markings covered the sides, and, at intervals, crystal clear pools of water filled the ravine. The sight of the latter nearly went to our heads after the long dry stage from Piltardi. I will not divulge how long we had gone without washing or shaving, but it was long enough.
The most noteworthy, yet unremarkable, thing about Giles is its isolated position. Three years ago, the Rawlinson Range area was inhabited only by a group of native people living exactly as their forbears had done. Then came the white man with all his modern devices and amenities to set up this outpost. This clash of ancient and modern, common all over Australia as white settlements spread, could seldom have been more drastic or sudden. The whole conflict is no better illustrated than on the messroom wall at Giles, where an expert cartoonist had drawn the scene of an old warrior fiercely aiming his spear at a strange object above his head—a weather balloon.
As the wireless masts of Giles appeared, we encountered an excellent graded road leading away southward. It eventually turns east through the aboriginal reserve in South Australia to Ernabella Mission, in the Musgrave Ranges. From there this lifeline continues through to Kulgera on the Alice Springs-Adelaide road and Finke, a little settlement on the Central Australian railway. Over this route a truck brings in supplies to the twelve men staffing the weather station. The public is forbidden to use it.
The first to greet us were the original owners of Giles—dozens of smiling, chattering natives of all ages camped near the station. Even out here they were dressed in tattered rags which so ruin the look and carriage of aboriginals. Also, the garments were not always worn in the right places. Although these people now have assured water and food, medical supervision and the opportunity to earn money for dingo scalps, it seems a pity that they have been so quickly and thoroughly modernized.
The weather station consists of modem huts, most of them air conditioned, which are used for living quarters, offices, mess rooms and meteorological and radio rooms. A large powerhouse provides lighting, radio and radar, and a workshop keeps the trucks and Land Rovers operating. It has an all-male staff consisting of six meteorological officers and six maintenance men. There is an all-weather airstrip.
The Officer-in-Charge of Giles, young meteorologist Murray Weaver, met us with: “Now just exactly who are you blokes, and what are you doing out here?’ He had received so many wires about us that he thought we were escaping from something. Explanations over, however, we were welcomed well and truly by these happy bearded men who are carrying out their job cheerfully in this lonely outpost.
The country in the Giles area is probably the best for grazing we saw. Good grasses and herbage were plentiful and the weather station's ten bores showed good supplies of underground water. Kangaroos were numerous, usually a good sign; they were the first we had seen since Piltardi.
It was always a popular camping spot with the natives, for in the floor of the Pass of the Abencerrages near the station, lies Sladen Waters, one of the most important of the watering places. After rain a beautiful waterhole and in dry times a never-failing soakage, attracting the game that was their very existence. Now the Mandjindaj people turn on a tap near the radar hut and swap dingo scalps for tins of bully-beef.
Despite this patch of good country, however, we felt that there was not enough like it to warrant settlement. Moreover, isolation and distance problems would have to be solved. These latter points were brought home to us when, over the following days, we were to travel nearly 500 miles almost straight west and to see not one sign of habitation or water—surely a rare experience in the world today.
The staff at Giles was not able to give us much information on the route ahead, Radio station 9WEU goes on the air from remote Australia, between Mt Beadell and the Browne Range. A road construction team attached to Woomera had, early in the year, completed a new road linking Giles to its closest neighbour, the Warburton Range Mission, 215 miles to the south-west. Forty miles north of the mission a track going due west to Carnegie Station, some 300 miles away, across the Gibson Desert, was being made. It had been reported that the road was nearly through, but nobody knew exactly how far it had gone. We decided, however, to follow these two roads and see for ourselves.
(Continued next week)
Places to visit – Pella Church.
Pella is situated 16 km west of Rainbow in the northwest of Victoria. Pella is not an official gazetted place name, but it was the name given by the nearby Lutheran Community. They called their church site Pella, after the area in the bible called Pella which was a place of refuge for Christians fleeing from the Romans.
Many German Lutheran families had come to Australia to escape persecution from the Catholic Church, first settling in South Australia in the Barossa area and then as large families needed to expand farmland, they came to Victoria as family groups. From 1898-1914 families selected 320-acre blocks of uncleared scrubland. Most had little money and few possessions or tools they worked cooperatively, sharing resources. community. Although they had few monetary assets they brought their farming knowledge and skills and their ability to work hard and live frugally.
In 1909 the community decided to build their own church rather than travel the 16 kilometres to Rainbow. It was at this time that the first use of the name Pella is recorded.
The church was built of local limestone and kilns were erected nearby to produce the mortar. At the time, the Pella church was one of the largest Lutheran churches in Victoria. Church services were conducted in German and until 1918 church records were kept in German Sütterlin handwriting.
As early as 1912 members of the congregation were asking for services to be conducted in English and it was finally agreed to have some English services as long as it did not interfere with the German services. In 1924 the church obtained its first English bible and by 1932 services German and English services were being held alternatively. Finally, with WWII looming, services changed to English.
The jewel in the crown of the Pella church is the magnificent Fuller pipe organ. Built in Kew in 1885 for the South Melbourne Congregational Church, it was purchased by St John's Lutheran Church, Pella in 1970. The instrument remains original, with stencilled façade pipes, cut-crystal knobs and wind system.
Services are still held weekly and it is possible to obtain a key at other times to look through the church.
The Fuller organ
the Pella Church.
Book Review – Crossing the Dead Heart
I’ve just finished reading Crossing the Dead Heart. Westprint is listed as the distributor. I have another 1948 copy, with my mother’s writing in pencil ‘to Grandma from Lal (my mother) Pam and Doug. Christmas 1949. I only discovered the writing in the book quite recently.
It is a most interesting read about this famous crossing of the Simpson Desert in 1939. From West to East, with camels, finishing at Birdsville. A fascinating part of the trek was the nightly radio broadcasts on the radio which had been loaned to them by Harry Ding. The broadcast was sent to Yunta, then relayed to the rest of Australia. Madigan had flown over the desert a few years earlier, so had a fair idea of what to expect. Conditions over many many sandhills gave the group some trying and difficult times. A great read about an epic journey of desert exploration. A wonderful story of enterprise, scientific investigation and determined human courage. A map is included in the book. Plenty of good photos too. The legendary Tom Kruse, then a young man, didn’t do the trek, but was involved in carting supplies to the start. Doug.
Westprint and Flat Earth Mapping jointly re-published Crossing The Dead Heart in 2018.
The book is a narrative of Cecil Madigan’s expedition across the northern Simpson Desert in 1939. The expedition was financed by Mr. A.A. Simpson, after whom the desert was subsequently named. From Charlotte Waters the expedition crossed the desert to Birdsville along the route now known as the Madigan Line. The party then travelled southward along the shores of Lake Eyre, rejoining the railway at Marree. This is a story of great enterprise and patient scientific investigation.
This edition is a faithful copy of the original text but with additional footnotes by Colin Harris, one of Australia's foremost authorities on Madigan and the Simpson Desert. Photos from the first edition text have been used using John’s expertise in photo restoration. While not perfect by today’s digital standards, they have come up well from using a 70-year-old text. In some instances, we have been able to use original photos. We are grateful to Cecil Madigan’s descendants who have assisted with photos and with biographical details. The cover design is as close as possible to the original 1946 publication. We have only a few Limited-edition copies available and plenty of the softcover version.
Softcover $34.95 Click here
Limited Edition $85.00 Click here
Post and Packing $9.50 per order.
While our business has been Covid quiet, Carolyn and I have been working on cataloguing the Westprint collection of secondhand books. The top 100 books are listed on the Westprint website and this is updated each month. We have also been using special cataloguing software so that once mammoth job of recording what we have is done, the job of dealing with secondhand books will become easier (we hope). The downside is that the software is American and sometimes the details imported about a particular book are odd or even incorrect. The upside is that we can now easily generate an Excel report and email it to you. That is to say that we can give you a report of the 700 books we have so far catalogued. If you are interested in having a look at the secondhand books, we have done (by Author A-F) please send me an email email@example.com
Secondhand book ballot
Our list of secondhand books looks a little different this year as I have finally worked out how to import directly from our database. Please add postage (at rates in the new books section above) for all books unless listed as including post. There is generally only one copy of each book available and so if there are more requests than books, a ballot is held on Mondays. To request any of the books listed please send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. I will contact you with payment details if you are the winner of the ballot.
- Special Delivery: Aussie Mailboxes and Other Roadside Attractions. Bachman, Bill. Paperback $5.00. Photographs: Collections
- My Own Destroyer: A Biography of Matthew Flinders, Explorer and Navigator. Baker, Sidney. Hardcover. $10.00
- Ungava. Ballantyne, R. Hardcover. $14.00
- The Dog Crusoe. Ballantyne, R. Hardcover. $12.00. Very worn. Binding intact.
- Like the Ark: The Story of Ararat. Banfield, Lorna. Hardcover. $40.00
- Across the Years: Jane Bardsley's Outback Letterbook. Bardsley. Hardcover. $12.00
- From a Bush Hut. Barrett, Charles. Hardcover. $15.00
- Dampier's voyages Bayliss, A. Hardcover. $15.00. Worn. 1945 edition Pencil marks
- True Australian Tales (Come A-Waltzing Matilda with Me, With Shame Remembered). Beatty, Bill. Paperback $5.00
- Australian The Amazing Beatty, Bill Paperback $15.00 In poor condition 'War-time austerity binding'
The Grim Reaper came for me last night and I beat him off with a vacuum cleaner. Talk about Dyson with death.
A mate of mine recently admitted to being addicted to brake fluid. When I quizzed him on it he reckoned he could stop any time.
I went to the cemetery yesterday to lay some flowers on a grave. As I was standing there, I noticed 4 grave diggers walking about with a coffin. Three hours later and they're still walking about with it. I thought to myself, they've lost the plot.
My daughter asked me for a pet spider for her birthday, so I went to our local pet shop and they were $70! Blow this, I thought, I can get one cheaper off the web.
I was driving this morning when I saw an RACV van parked. The driver was sobbing uncontrollably and looked very miserable. I thought to myself that guy's heading for a breakdown.
Statistically, 6 out of 7 dwarves are not Happy.
My neighbour knocked on my door at 2:30am this morning, can you believe that, 2:30am?! Luckily for him I was still up playing my Bagpipes.
My girlfriend thinks that I'm a stalker. Well, she's not exactly my girlfriend yet.
I woke up last night to find the ghost of Gloria Gaynor standing at the foot of my bed. At first I was afraid ...then I was petrified.
Local Police hunting the 'knitting needle nutter', who has stabbed six people in the thigh in the last 48 hours, believe the attacker is following some kind of pattern.
Bought some 'rocket salad' yesterday, but it went off before I could eat it!
A teddy bear is working on a building site. He goes for a tea break and when he returns he notices his pick has been stolen. The bear is angry and reports the theft to the foreman. The foreman grins at the bear and says. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Today's the day, the teddy bears have their pick nicked."
Just got back from my mate's funeral. He died after being hit on the head with a tennis ball. It was a lovely service.
The Fine Print
About the Friday Five
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