Category Archives: Humour

Let’s go Grow a Mo’!

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Merv

It’s Movember once again!

That time of year when men around the world can let their facial fungus folic in aid of a good cause. In New Zealand that cause is promoting the awareness of men’s health, particularly prostate cancer and depression.

This will be the 5th year I have grown a Movember Mo and the second year I have seriously raised money to go along with it. Last year these wonderful people helped me raise a reasonable $234. This year I’d like to raise at least $250.

If you would like to help me achieve my goal, you can donate money here and also follow the evolution of my mo.

Incidentally, following on from Mo-vember, I’ll be taking part in Decem-beard followed by Janu-hairy eary next year!

One Little Word

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My Dad had a beautiful but. You could hear it coming a mile off.

Yes you read right.

Dad was one of the most considerate, fair people I knew. A side effect of this was he always seemed to see both sides of a problem, so when weighing up pros and cons of an issue or item, he would list all the good aspects, BUT, then list all the negatives.

One little word can make all the difference.

I catch myself using “just” far too much. “I’m just turning off the computer” (after I’ve checked my email, surfed three news sites, updated my Facebook status, sent two tweets and waited for their replies). “I was just about to do that” (after reading my book / playing PlayStation / oh crap, I completely forgot about that, but I’m not going to let on).

Anyone who watches the plethora of police / highway patrol / breath-testing shows will know that “a couple” of drinks never actually means “two” (unless it’s a couple of litre-sized glasses).

Similarly when a girl says “Oh, you’re so sweet, let’s just be friends” she never means she wants to be friends with you, and especially not “friends with benefits.”

(I only learned what that expression meant in the last few years. Up till that point, to me, “friends with benefits” meant my (male) mate had a Sega Master System, and I only had a Commodore 64, but I digress.)

One little word that will get you chucked out of the Frame household faster than anything is “the”. Especially when it is used as the prefix for “Hawke’s Bay”.

To all the reporters, TV weather people, associated media and general public, may I just say this: “THERE IS NO ‘THE’ IN HAWKE’S BAY!” The same goes for Wairarapa, Waikato and Manawatu, but you still see those three little letters creeping in to daily usage.

“The Hutt Valley” in Wellington, by comparison is fine, as it was a valley named after someone named Hutt (sadly, it wasn’t “Jabba the” – I checked)

“The” is what’s known as a definite article, so must refer to, or precede a noun (naming word) i.e.: the cat, the book. “The Hawke’s Bay Hospital” or “the Hawke’s Bay region” is fine, as they describe the Hospital that is located in Hawke’s Bay and the region known as Hawke’s Bay. But describing the region solely as “The Hawke’s Bay” doesn’t work as it doesn’t describe anything – The Hawke’s Bay what? You don’t say “The Auckland”, “The Canterbury” or “The Otago”, do you?

“Aha!” you may say, the big body of water the region semi-surrounds is Hawke’s Bay, isn’t it? Well, no it’s not. To quote Wikipedia: “The bay itself is Hawke Bay, whereas the region which surrounds it bears the bay’s former name, Hawke’s Bay.”

”Hawke Bay” was named by Captain, then Lieutenant, James (as a Star Trek fan, I always want to add a “T” in the middle here) Cook after Sir Edward Hawke, First Lord of the Admiralty, when Cook arrived here in 1769.

And in any case, using correct grammar and “the” would make it “The Bay of Hawke”, just as our nation’s fellow famous bays are named “The Bay of Islands” and “The Bay of Plenty”

So endeth the lesson, dear reader and media-type. There is no such place as “The Hawke’s Bay”. Please stop referring to it as such, or we may exile you to The Chatham Islands!

Why The Warehouse Should Form a Political Party!

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I tweeted a thought the other day, wondering if The Warehouse was the Steven Joyce of NZ retail. The Warehouse tweeted back asking what did I mean (awkward!), so I explained that Mr Joyce is considered the “Minister of Everything” for his many and varied portfolios and general “Mr Fix it” role in government and that the Warehouse is the “Retailer of Everything” selling CDs, books, toys, clothes, appliances, plants, food, etc. etc. etc. The Warehouse tweeter seemed happy with my explanation and NZ blogging and Twitter icon Moata Tamaira opined to me, “If only The Warehouse could go into politics.” “Hmmm,” I thought, why not?

Think about it – The Warehouse would be the perfect political party. Its red branding, egalitarian “Where EVERYONE gets a bargain” slogan and work in the community would appeal to socially minded voters, while its massive retailing empire, overseas trading ability and the sheer volume of money that flows through the company (the amount of GST they accumulate each year must be staggering) would appeal to those of a more capitalistic bend.

Too often politicians are criticised for “not living in the real world”, well the Warehouse is certainly part of the real world and has become such a feature of everyday life for New Zealanders that it would be the perfect interface between politics and the public. Go in store to buy a new pair of pants and pick up some shares in a state-owned power company at the same time (Note: I do not know what The Warehouse’s stance is on asset sales, I’m just using it as an example). Buy a DVD and you could also file your tax return at the checkout. Purchase some oil for your car and pay the registration at the same time. Brilliant, eh? Need to talk to your local member for parliament? Look no further than the information kiosk, or attending to the clean up in aisle four – in the Warehouse Political Party “public service” really does mean serving the public!

As Peter Dunne’s (499 people formerly known as) United Future discovered, politics is all about support and membership. This is from where the term “card carrying member” originates. The Warehouse already has financial contributors in the millions. Every day thousands of New Zealanders shop there, that’s a lot of grassroots support. Want to join the Warehouse Political Party? If you have a Warehouse store credit card, you could already be a member!

So there you go. It’s a little over a year to the next general election, the current mob in parliament (on both sides of the chamber) don’t seem to be making any new friends, or keeping many old ones and a gap has opened up with United Future ceasing to have an actual future, or a present for that matter, so it would be the perfect time for a new party to sweep into power and who better to do it than The Warehouse?

Where in the World is Z Kennedy Road?

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I’m a little geographically confused. I regularly get my petrol from Z Kennedy Road in Napier. With a name like “Z Kennedy Road” you would think it would be located on, well, Kennedy Road, right?

Wrong!

Napier’s Kennedy Road starts at the lights where Wellesley Road bisects it, about 50 meters from the central city service station, which is physically located on the corner of Station Street and Tennyson Street (which ends at the same Wellesley Road corner).

But the confusion doesn’t end there – I was having a look at the till receipt from a recent petrol purchase and noticed it lists Z Kennedy Road’s address as “256 Dickens Street”. This would put it across Station Street and somewhere in the middle of the Countdown Napier supermarket’s car park!

And let’s not even go into why there are TWO Countdown Supermarkets in Napier opposite it!

With such geographic bamboozlement, uncertainty and inaccuracy, perhaps the people of Napier could claim Z Kennedy Road as a sovereign territory, surely the world’s smallest (look out Vatican City!)?

It could be a very affluent nation – I hear there’s a very good chance of finding rich petroleum reserves not too far underground (that’s if we decided to drill).

International relations, too, would be a strong feature of our new nation’s economy, with the neighboring ‘Kingdom of Burger’ and plentiful food sources nearby in The Duchy of Pak n’ Save.

Backing onto the Napier – Gisborne rail line, the “Napier Peoples’ Republic of Z Kennedy Road” (a bit of a mouthful, admittedly) could conceivably claim that too, as recent New Zealand governments certainly didn’t seem to want to operate the nation’s rail lines, or look after the regions.

So if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to the United Nations to lay our claim.

All we need now is a flag and national anthem.

Any ideas?

Pay no Attention to the Giant Man in the Pink Tutu.

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It all started with a Tweet.

About a year ago, on my early morning walk to the bus I catch to work, anybody driving past would have thought I was either ballet dancing, or having some form of seizure.

It had rained the night before, and the footpath was littered with snails scrambling (or, at least moving as fast as snails can) for higher, drier ground. I, in turn, was trying to avoid stepping on any of them. Not because I’m overly environmentally minded, but thinking more along the lines of Karma – If I was a snail just out for a wander, minding my own snaily business, I’d feel very put out if some giant, inattentive biped was to step on and squish me, so I was doing my best to avoid any casualties.

As I side-stepped (and occasionally pirouetted) I realised how odd this must look to any passing observer and once I was out of the escargot minefield and on the bus, I tweeted about my experience and what it must have looked like.

Chel Adams, who runs Aurum Coffee in Hastings replied later saying she would pay good money (or coffee) too see me doing that in a pink tutu. Now one thing you don’t do with me is joke about free food, as I take food (especially the free variety) very seriously, so the challenge was on!

Over the months, the wager grew to coffee AND cheesecake, but time and money were not on my side, sadly and the bet lay dormant (albeit with constant reminders from a growing group of Twitter friends) for some time until the stars aligned last month. I managed to find a pink tutu that actually fit me almost perfectly (a hard ask, considering I’m 6’8” tall guy) from the Napier Operatic Society’s Tabbard Costume Hire and on a chilly Thursday, I made my way, tutu and all, to Aurum Coffee in Heretaunga Street East to make Chel’s day:

Was it worth it? Absolutely! Chel was kind enough (in between fits of laughter) to give me more coffee and cheesecake than I could have hoped for and I even helped out behind the counter making coffees for some very bemused looking customers. Would I do it again? I don’t know, but apparently Chel has plans for various costumes and me.

This could require a lot more food and possibly alcohol…