The Scorpios roaming contemporary life find themselves in a strange bind, possessing a sting in their tail that can bring anyone of any size to their demise, but having very few actual enemies deserving of such harsh treatment. We don’t live in some barren desert with threats lurking behind every blade of Spinifex and yet Scorpios are coiled so tight, ready to unleash hell at a moment’s notice should the slightest threat emerge. It’s the hand they were dealt through no fault

To earn some sweet extra dosh in my teens, during the golden age of the mid 90’s, I used to pick up my much younger sister Eloise, and much, much younger bro, Marky Boy, from their after school care centre and we’d walk home together. I’m sure some stubbornly thrifty parents out there reading this may shake their heads and believe, rightfully so, that I should have performed this brotherly duty sans payment. Ah well, stuff ya’s. Anyway, I probably would have, but money’s mone

I was never big on the paranormal, more as a defence mechanism than a true disbelief. Sneaking a viewing of Poltergeist as a young’un led to so many sleepless nights that I think my fragile little mind simply decided the notion of all that frightening mumbo jumbo was just not worth entertaining. And that’s fair enough. I’m still scared of the TV the moment the reception falls out. They’re here…farkin’ oath they are! But there was a moment I was reminded of recently thanks to

History is not up for debate. There are historical facts that we can't run from, can't hide from, can't simply change because horrific acts were committed and feelings are sure to be hurt in remembering the deeds of the past that could have been handled so much better if societies weren’t so often run by psychopaths with more passion for self-interest than the betterment of mankind. This is nothing new. The plight of the First Australians, the Indigenous Peoples of this Great

Around the middle of the third term of year four my mum had had a gutful of Catholic education. Three years earlier she’d had a gutful of the public system and two years hence she’d be well and truly done with alternate independent schooling also. Mum was a perfectionist I suppose and I was a willing guinea pig. Based on old photos, the emphasis would be on pig. By the start of term four in 1990, I was walking into my first day at International Grammar School in Surry Hills,

Did you hear about the dyslexic, insomniac, agnostic? He couldn’t sleep at night, sick with worry, unsure if there was a dog. Poor fella. I have no idea if there is a God or not, surprise, surprise! Though I do love seeing Richard Dawkins debating various religious nitwits and anyone else deranged enough to indulge in arguments about all this impossible to prove rhetoric, getting all hot and bothered and abusive. If Jesus was indeed born of the virgin, Mary, and crucified for

Peter always treasured the world that was going on around him. You’ll find these people along your way, kind souls who are stoked simply on being alive. There’s a calm to be found in their presence, a sense that all is the way it should be, and it’s bloody beaut just like that. Something he especially loved was taking a few minutes at a lookout. I’m sure at similar moments when he wasn’t with me he’d light up a joint to mark the moment, but when it was me and Super Dad, we’d

Given the powers of time travel there are many people I’d like to thank if I could jump back a few years between now and 1980. There are the many loving souls, close family and friends who supported and encouraged me in any way they could and are unfortunately no longer with us. There are sporting heroes, rock gods, and any array of public figures that were instrumental in shaping and inspiring me. But, above all, there are the bullies. Nothing firms your focus, strengthens a

I dedicated Slippery to my dad, the man who taught me to think clearly and laugh loudly, always. And over this past week, being bombarded with endless Mental Health stories and interviews to commemorate Mental Health Week, I think this dual lesson Dad provided is the greatest survival technique I’ll ever learn. At the age of 7, being in the sweet spot of seeing the world clearly in black and white, right and wrong, good and bad, I vividly remember one afternoon catching the f