The adventures of Almigo

On Christmas morning I woke to two reving and snarling dirt throwing rally cars locked in a do or die battle to find out which driver had the bigger and more metal based set of testicles.  A pretty large pair. Yep, my lovely wife bought me a slot car set and I instantly reverted back to when I was five without a single care in the world. God that felt good!

After the weekend I've added another job to the 'list of careers' that I would be miserable at. Being a hardworking department store Santa. Buggered if I know how you gents do it but I tip my Chrstmas cap to you all (and you helper elves)..

I'll give you a clue - most boy racers would happily hand over a slice of their leftie for the keys to this... What could it be?

My scales sent me an email today. I knew I shouldn't have named it Skynet...

Jag me a burger!   This week we're running a competition on the show where you can become our restaurant reviewer (the restaurant in question is Jags Grill Bendigo which I discovered today makes a ripper and very filling beef burger) - to enter you have to email in and tell us if you had the choice of anyone in the world, who you would take for a meal out? (There is an unknown rule that if you mention the words 'Tom Cruise' and 'Lamb roast' you automatically lose for using a lame joke from the 80s.) I asked myself the same question while barely awake in the shower this morning and have struggled to narrow down my final three..

Well that's a nice surprise - in my work inbox this morning, in amongst the demands for bill payments and threats if we play any more Miley Cyrus, I discovered some very nice news. I now own a tree.  Mine. Finding out you now own a tree first thing in the morning is a terrific way to start a Thursday and in celebration of this amazing gift, I have named him Tankford. Because it's my tree now (allegedly) and it obviously needs a 'powerful tree' name.  Now as much as I'd like to believe that random people just gift people like me free trees for giggles and laughs, there's a particular reason why I've been gifted Tankford here as I discovered when I stopped bragging about my tree ownership and read the rest of the email...

Nothing kills a nice gravel pit in your own driveway than a bunch of dole budging weeds truly believing that your car runway is actually their permanent halfway house.  Case in point, my Lexus catwalk: home of Weedtopia. Horrific! Oh the weedmanity! Yep, it's enough to stop passing Ferraris making a beeline for your carport. So what's a clean driveway wanting car fanatic to do? Well thankfully I've found an item found in the common shed that sucker punches unwanted weeds right in the fun bits and then dances on their graves. And this wonderfully common item is....