It's poor form, don't you think, to taunt a bloke first thing in the morning, before he's had his toast. That's what happened to me last Monday. Sure, I was in my pyjamas, but they're quite the tidy ensemble, and certainly not shabby enough to warrant heckling from a sky-basket. "Hiya sexy, nice jarrmies" isn't the sort of thing you expect to hear as you grab the papers off the porch. Gave me a hell of a fright, it did. Bastard Montgolfiers!
Ahem. Nor are my pyjamas anything approaching the démodé. (Dee Mode if you must.) Boxers and tee-shirts never go out of fashion - just look at the movies. And at blue for blue the colours match, so I'll brook no nonsense from you lot.
Were they landing in the next door neighbour's back yard or was their eyesight exceptional?
Posted by: Ed | 03 February 2006 at 15:43
The picture doesn't do justice to how close they were. By the time I'd grabbed my camera, they had moved a fair way away. Pity. Because when I first saw them, it looked like they were about to land on my roof.
Posted by: Tony.T | 03 February 2006 at 15:47
Clearly terrorists.
Posted by: Ed | 03 February 2006 at 16:15
Pokies everywhere, alcohol ads above your house.
It's Sodom with trams.
Posted by: carneagles | 03 February 2006 at 16:17
Quality call from the sky basket. Dirigibles next week.
Posted by: RT | 03 February 2006 at 16:25
It's a cesspool here alright, but I agree that high class heckling should be encouraged.
On reflection, they may have been razzing my neighbour who is somewhat more heckleworthy given that SHE is likely to be wearing girl-type pyjamas.
Posted by: Tony.T | 03 February 2006 at 16:34
Forget balloon heckling and pyjama girls. I'm more impressed that they actually manage to land the papers on your porch. Something to be said for chucking after all.
Posted by: Wicking | 03 February 2006 at 17:24
A replacement might just be in order. My local paper boy... well, man actually, has the strongest arm going around considering the force with which the Sun and Age hit the front wall wakes me up every day. Bring on balloon delivery. (With apologies to Neil Young.)
Posted by: Tony.T | 03 February 2006 at 18:06
Paper guy in my street can hurl paper to his left over the carhood from out the drivers window. Ought to be an Event in the CommGames.
And don't tell yours he wakes you - or there might be an Alarm Surcharge on your next account.
Used to live next to a golf course and Hot Air Balloons were a hazard. the first time, the whooshing noise over the house scared me witless before i figured out what it was.
Posted by: Brownie | 03 February 2006 at 22:14
Jeez. In my short but glorious time in the Riverina, De Bortoli was the Brown Muscat of choice of the brown bag brigade.
Now they have balloons?
Next will be yuppie wine bars.
Say it ain't so, Tony.
Posted by: Pedro the Ignorant | 04 February 2006 at 02:46
That's a fine image for we lady readers to ponder.
Melbourne is chockers with balloons in the morning. God knows what they have to look at.
PS - Your site doesn't seem to want to recognise my URL, which probably just means it has good taste.
Posted by: Major Anya | 04 February 2006 at 09:26
sure you didn't mean demi monde?
Posted by: Francis Xavier Holden | 04 February 2006 at 22:49
Or Demi Moore?
Not sure what the problem is with your URL, Anya. I haven't banned anything to do with gravett, etc. But if Typepad ban certain things, it is domain-wide. Gary or one of the gang haven't offended a Typepadder somewhere, have they?
Yeah, the woosh, Brownie. Who knew a rush of gas could be so loud. But it is.
It's so, Pedro.
Posted by: Tony.T | 05 February 2006 at 17:30