Easy as falling off a blog

The cat in the editor’s hat

I have a guilty secret. I’m self-editing my own novels at the moment.

I’d prefer not to take on that responsibility but it’s an economic necessity. It was a matter of priorities. Anyone who has seen me draw would tell me I needed a cover artist much more urgently than I needed an editor.

A New Zealand editor, Anne-Marie McDonald Emerson, worked on Major BS, and picked up a thousand mistakes. Possibly two thousand! But Who Knew Tasmanian Tigers Eat Apples, Lie of the Tiger

It’s not easy being green

I HEARD  comedian Ricky Gervaise laugh at blog writers for listing their favourite tracks by their favourite singers. I decided there and then I would never do that. I never want to be held up to public ridicule.

So I have decided instead to list my 10 least favourite vegetables. In descending order of horribleness.

  • 10. Carrots. During my web research for this list I was informed by one site that seemed to know its beans, etc: "Use sparingly due to high carbohydrate levels."

Easy as falling off a frog

I learnt many French words in my four years of language lessons in high school — but cuisses de grenouille weren’t among them.

Had I known about them, I wouldn’t have fallen into the trap of ordering frogs’ legs at a restaurant in France.

If you’ve already heard this story, feel free to move on.


You’re lucky. I can’t. Every time I close my eyes I see them — all those little green legs looking up from the plate at a diner who probably looks greener.

Bonjour, I’ve bin sightseeing


I can explain why I’ve come back from France with a snapshot of a rubbish bin rather than one of the Eiffel Tower.

I didn’t actually get to Paris to see the Eiffel Tower. 

Besides, I’ve decided it must be overrated.

On the way home from Europe, we stopped in Dubai and stayed in a hotel not far from the Dubai Mall.

Dubai Mall had about 80 million people through its ornate doors last year, which its publicists crow was more than the Eiffel Tower got.

Thongs sung blue

I have been home in Canberra for some weeks now. In fact, I’m coming up to my second haircut since returning from holiday in Europe.

This might not mean a lot to you, but it does to me.

Um, not the haircut bit. That’s just the new measuring stick of my life. Days, weeks, and month don’t mean much any more when you don’t need to go to the office. But since I get my hair cut every five to six weeks, I can measure things of note by haircuts.

Flushing out the terrorist plops

Did you realise this is the first time in 4.543 billion years of the earth’s existence that man can sit on the toilet and Facebook?

Or Tweet. Or email. Or Skype? Or turn nouns into dunny 'doing words.'

Yes,  it’s the first time in 4.543 billion years we can actually do this  so this a very big deal indeed. It’s our moment in history.

toilet 1467701c

(As always, my mate Orville pooh-poohs this claim. He says he once strung a piece of string and two tin cans between the outhouse at his parents’ house to the outhouse of the boy next door, and it didn’t work at all. …

© John Martin