Chicken dinners and electoral polls…

What with the busy weekends everyone is planning on having, we decided to get together for dinner with friends last night, and watch the leaders debate on TV3.

I did the dinner, and I kicked its ass.

Claire wanted to have pasta with a nice olive oil & lemon juice sauce, and pepper & shavings of parmesan. I vetoed this idea, not because I’m president and get a deciding vote, but because I was cooking, and she wasn’t even in the house. And goddamnit I wanted a great big roast.

It being 3pm on the day of the dinner, I grabbed a fresh chicken, some yams, a couple of parsnips, red & white taters, pumpkin and a big golden kumara, and scrubbing, peeling and chopping, I was actually worried that I’d massively overcatered, with two big roasting dishes full of veges, I was sure we’d get though maybe half, a quick spritz of olive oil, and into the oven they went, alongside a third dish with the aforementioned chicken, itself with a dash of oil, freshly ground seasalt and pepper.

Now, obviously I wouldn’t have mentioned the fear of over catering if I hadn’t been wrong, everything went. It was all good. Nice and crispy on the outside, steamy and tender on the inside.


Chicken, coated with fresh ground seasalt and black pepper.


Golden Kumara, Potatoes, Red Potatoes.


Pumpkin, Yams, Parsnips.

The game didn’t go so well for me, well, it didn’t go well for anyone that isn’t Karl, he won two games of two. Oh, and in as much as there is a loser, I was the loser.

Tomorrow, I don’t know what’s happening, we’re voting, obviously, but after that I’m not sure, we might try and get a few friends over to eat popcorn and drink booze and watch as the results feed through, or we might do that, and I’ll also go and help out Dylan with his thing – he’s producing an election results special for Triangle TV.

And, what can I say but fuck the polls, what the hell is going on when you can release the results of 3 polls on one day and have them pretty much all be weird and different:

  • Herald-DigiPoll
    • Labour 44.6
    • National 37.4
  • One News/Colmar Brunton
    • National 44
    • Labour 38
  • 3 News TNS
    • Labour 40.5
    • National 38.7

Some of the polls also look really bad for the minor parties, with none of them making the threshold, and only those with the foresight (or luck) to win an electorate seat getting in, while other polls have some of the minor parties on up to 8%.

So once again, fuck the polls.

Oh, and please, even if you’re a right wing nutcase with no connection to reality, VOTE. It’s easy. It’s fun*. So do it.

* $fun = ‘not actually fun usually, but it is perfectly painless.’;

New Zealand television on New Zealand television…

Following on in the strangely muted and hidden footsteps of that mockumentary political satire The Pretender on TV3, last night saw the introduction of Liberation Force to TV2, and with it an extremely low budget poke at US foreign policy / oil fever.

The premise is that vast oil reserves have been discovered off the West Coast of New Zealand, the U.S. does the only thing it realistically can and decides to implement regime change in New Zealand and bring us Democracy™ and Freedom™, and free us from the shackles of Terra™.

To do this, they send in the troops, an infantry division is dispatched from Hawaii, and spend the episode engaged in bringing a Christchurch suburb to Liberation™.

Liberation force is another mockumentary (which is why I mentioned The Pretender), we follow the lives of Corporal Eric Johnson and Private Beau Baker.

The acting is rough, these guys might be actors, but they don’t have a lot of polish – well done for unknown (to me at least) new guys though. The budget is obviously tiny, all the troops are wearing what looks like army surplus stuff – and doesn’t look anything like U.S. Army camoflage. Oh and they seem to be driving 70’s era Landrovers, not the ever present Humvee.

But, to me at least, the point isn’t the acting or the props or the jokes, the point is that it’s a brutal savaging of U.S. foreign policy. And I really like that.

I want to see some more of Private Beau Baker (aka the White Ninja) and his Wong Po Fist of Fury, it really scares the hell out of little girls skipping rope in their driveways.

I also want to see these guys get their asses handed to them by the locals, but that really wouldn’t fit – the locals just want them to "piss off," and tell them so in no uncertain terms ("get the fuck off my driveway!"), but otherwise just tolerate them with quiet sneers.

Standout performances: the little boy in the dairy and the girl skipping ripe, what a pair of little cuties; the bewildered looking maori guy at the checkpoint; and the older guy in the supermarket that called the Corporal a cock – "this is the express lane, cock."

I’ve got a feeling, from the TV2 website, that this was a one shot wonder. So if you didn’t see it, you won’t see it again. Sorry.

Keee-Ay-Orra.

Oh, Atlantis season 2 episode 8 finally made its way down the lines, it’s ok. They do need to lift their writing , and if you’re going to have weird aliens, you should think about putting some money into your makeup budget.

But it’s still better than any of the SF that’s actually on New Zealand TV right now. Do you know why? Oh, yeah – SF would get in the way of Garden Patrol, Painting Disasters and NZSing Your Way to Servitude.

International Carpentry Superstar

I did my first hit-and-run carpentry on Sunday night, it was good fun. I sneaked onto someone’s property and fixed some things while they weren’t looking. Be interesting to see if my work is noticed.

This election is seriously giving me the shits, just what the fuck is up with all these polls? I think in some ways we’d be better off with no polls. Especially if the accusations of super-sketchiness on the part of the Sunday Star-Times prove to be true.

We have to be honest now, the swings we’ve been seeing are all simply too great to be even remotely credible. In the space of three days, it beggars belief that the population would throw their weight behind the nats to the tune of 44 odd %, then change their mind the next day and drop them back to 37%, then the next day decide they were right the first time.

It just doesn’t have any credibility, so what is the truth? Are our pollsters fuckwits? Or is there just something suss about the method?

Enough! We’ll all find out exactly what everyone thinks in just a few days.

And I hope enough people agree with me to put the right people in power. But even with the wrong government in power, there’s still no better country in the world to live in, so I’m hardly about to pull that sad cock-blocked Democrat trick and claim to be leaving for Canada or Belgium if the wrong guy ends up on the throne.

Oh, on the weekend we had a couple of dinners with friends, and a few games of Rummikub, which I’d never played before. Friday night found us at Dylan’s where I cooked a pretty average carbonara. The game ended up with 2 rounds to Mel, 1 to me, 1 to Claire, and 0 to Dylan. Saturday night had Francois & Kate over, had a close first game, which I won, then a completely ridiculous second game – I couldn’t beld for over 10 rounds, then won in a turn with manipulations totalling something in the order of 22 pieces. That’s right, I put down 22 pieces in a single turn.

It was unbelievable.

(Kate is really good, even when distrcted by having to nurse Matteo, and the end result doesn’t effectively show the actual game play, which was really close – except for me, I was completely out of it except for that one lucky play.)

Other news…

Nothing on the Atlantis front yet, season 2 episode 8 wasn’t available until a day or two ago, and I’ve been having a hell of a time getting it down.

My mother has moved back from Thailand into Laos, I’m not sure when she’s going to be back in NZ.

I’ve got a list of 7 potential business ideas, 3 or 4 of which look really promising, but I’m thinking really seriously about taking a break from being entirely self-employed for a while, I’m getting a bit tired of chasing work and waiting for cheques. Doing it all yourself can be pretty stressfull. Perhaps I just need a business partner. (This is not a request for statements of interest.)

Wellingtron…

We spent the weeked in Wellington and had a great time. I’ve put up a gallery of a selection of the photos we took in and around Wellington, including such obvious choices as Parliament & The Beehive, and The Botanic Gardens, and so forth.

I’ve also added a bunch of Wellington stencils and graffiti to the street art page.

One word of advice, if you’re taking a taxi anywhere in our capital, make sure you get a Combined taxi, they’re nice and reliable, they don’t rip you the fuck off, and they actually seem to know where they’re going.

The renovation of The Embassy is officially awesome, this is what they should have done with the civic, it’s super comfortable (especially the super plush leather seats we chose in the platinum section), and the screen is great. We watched Crash and enjoyed it in a depressing sort of a way – if you’ve seen the movie, you’ll know what I mean.

On the good front, and just look at me, obviously I like to eat – and we went back to a couple of our old favourites, but also tried a couple of new places. I’ll add them to my restaurants page later.

Grand Dragon Scumbag, Northern Region

Teen admits kicking puppy to death

A Kaitaia teenager who kicked a six-week-old puppy so hard it died of its injuries could face up to three years in jail.

Halen Joseph Heemi, 17, a road worker, has pleaded guilty in the Manukau District Court to ill-treating a doberman-type puppy.

The court heard that Heemi, who had owned the puppy for less than half an hour, threw it 10m into the air and when it landed on the ground he booted it like a football, killing it.

New Zealand Herald. 02/09/05.

Some people will never amount to anything, but I get the feeling, and I think I’m right, but I reckon Halen has a shining future as one of the biggest scumbags in the far north, and that’s a hell of an achievment.

I hope they throw the fucking book at him.

Harvey Jackson has lost everything but his humanity.


After listening to Harvey Jackson on on the radio, relating his experience, and the loss of his wife, in the floods to a crying reporter, I absolutely take back what I said yesterday.

While I’m delighted that little baby Katrina isn’t gonna be called Ka’Niyah (well, so I hope) it’s not worth anyone experiencing the heartbreaking loss that Harvey has.

My thoughts are with everybody who has a lost a loved one in the floods.

Bad Baby Names.

Today on USAToday.com:

"If you had told me that I was going to have my baby while I was evacuating from a hurricane on the side of a road in a city I had never been to before, I would have told you that you were crazy," Doucett said late Sunday at Hattiesburg’s Forrest General Hospital.

"I have waited for this day for so long. I just never imagined it would be a day like this."

Doucett had planned to call the baby Ka’Niyah. "But now I am not so sure," she smiled. "I may have to go with Katrina."

If it takes category 5 hurricanes, killing dozens of people, and destroying vast numbers of homes and property to stop people from giving their children completely fucked names, I say "bring ’em on."

Mean Spam.


When your mother is away in Laos for who knows how long, it’s really mean for spammers to start sending a bunch of mail with her first name in the from.

Skinky Friend.

We have a guest at Casa del Pino at the moment, a friendly little copper skink. This is the most common flavour found in Auckland, they’re tiny and pretty and solitary. A week or two ago we were cleaning up the yard, getting rid of all the rubbish, weeds, mowing and edging and so on, and I managed to stick a gravel rake right through this little guy, I thought the best thing to do to help him, would be to bring him inside to recuperate away from any predators for a bit.

He seems better than he was, though I’d actually be surprised if his injury doesn’t eventually kill him – one of the tines went right through his abdomen.

I’m under the impression that the law on bringing this guy into the house is pretty unequivocal – you’re not allowed to, but I think it would be immoral to injure an animal and then not help the guy. Claire told me I was being mean bringing him inside, I’m not sure she knows what being mean actually means, I cleaned the wound up, disinfected it, provided him with a safe place to rest (and old fish tank I’ve filled with bark & leaf litter, water and little insecty dinners — I’m assuming he’ll eat slaters, but I’m not certain.

I’m going to put him back in the garden as soon as I feel like he’s a bit better. The whole thing is probably futile, as his hind legs seem to be fairly useless now – they’re not completely paralysed, but he certainly seems to be mostly moving using his front legs.

What can you do? Leave a little harmless guy to die in the garden? He didn’t do anything to me to deserve that.

As you can see, he’s little, didn’t stop him from biting my thumb when I was cleaning around his wound.

New Zealand Television, now with added fibre and political satire…

Did you catch The Pretender last night? No, not the old Usian thing with a weird guy that fakes being a doctor, or a whatever, and so forth, this The Pretender was on TV3, and it looked like it was made by TV3, and is about the wealthy moron National candidate for Wakatipu South called Dennis Plant, a Queenstown property developer, and arrogant, ignorant, fool.

It’s an obvious rip-off of The Office, but it’s still pretty cool with it. Also: weird.

Did anyone know this was coming? I hadn’t heard anything about it, never an advert or anything, it just came on late last evening as we were about to retire for the night.

The especially cool thing was all the cameos, I noticed Helen Clark, Rodney Hide, Trevor Mallard. I don’t know yet if it was revealing that there was no National leadership presence, but that might be coming later (or indeed may have happened as I took out the rubbish).

I liked it.

In other news, we went with F&K&littleM for a nice (haard) walk up a long hill in the Waitaks, starting up the North end of Piha, was a killer uphill, for me. But we had a nice biscuit break on, (I think), Fisherman’s Point. Very very nice, with White’s Beach on the right, Piha North on the left, and a bunch of useless (and apparently) rich bodyboarders trying to catch the loverly swells waaay down below us. (In fact, they were all dropped off by a charter boat, and then bobbed around missing so many waves that F ended up cupping his hands to his mouth a laying down the law with a shouted "You SUCK!")

George loved playing on the beach, but what’s new?

Moving ever backwards in this update, on Saturday we spent a lot of time in the garden, weeding, binding, mowing, etc. It looks much better now, we’d let it go into Winter mode, which is the least lovely mode for a garden.

And on Friday we went and hung out with little deaf Kevin and his folks, and played no Pictionary. (We thought it was best to take a break.)