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Posts from the ‘Works’ Category

some of bondi’s rascals

blame rooster for what follows.

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the hawkesbury school


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Lead me on

For those in the north.

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up there … in the sky


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ray, from redfern

upping stakes

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the outsider


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byron bay

Header pic of Main Beach dunes and Pier Hotel lifted from site owned by Kerry Baunach (below)  … some old faces can be found there, especially Wendy’s. Somebody should remind Mick Trenerry how lucky he was.

Images of Byron Bay


The beach’s north point features a fifty-foot high cliff of black granite boulders, above them a track leading down to a small wooded valley behind the dunes.

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the rock island line

This way I’ll know where to find it …


I says the Rock Island Line is a mighty good road.

I says the Rock Island Line is the road to ride.

I says the Rock Island Line is a mighty good road.

If you want to ride, you gotta ride it like you’re flyin’.

Buy your ticket at the statlon on on the Rock Island Line.

I. Well, Jesus died to save me in all of my sin. Well-a, glory to God, we gain’ to meet Him again.

2. Well, the train left Memphis at half pas’ nine.

3. Well, it made it back to Little Rock at eight forty-nine.

Well, Jesus died to save me in all of my sin. Well-a, glory to God, we gain’ to meet Him again.


we had it at its best

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guns on river street

'Who needs shooting around here?'

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byron bay’s joke of the week

The council is installing a set of traffic lights in Byron’s main street.

The locals are aghast at the prospect.

But no worries, says the mayor – all the lights will stay green.

… How we laughed.

andy cochran


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.. fragments

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been travelling?

some questions you don't want to hear being answered

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the punt

only losers know the feeling

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a surfing odyssey.

another surfing life

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the alzheimer test

nigel the trolly-boy and the woolworths lovely

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appearances are nothing

it takes one to know one

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the bondi beach‌ ‌club‌ – amalfi style

Someone should tell Janek how good sand tastes in a lobster morney when there's a thirty knot southerly blowing ashore

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She was dressed in a faded blue frock that looked as old as she was,

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revenge ..

.. something had to be done.

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night fishing and watermelon rinds

fishing is not all it appears to be

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I think of that old rascal often, and my right ear rings unceasingly.

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the privileged at play

Without the uniforms they are just like us  .. with them, they become something else.

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