Know your enema
I feel a grain of empathy with Ruddie; but not much more than that. I went out with a bang when I was deposed. I had been king of a small –ish bump in the Pacific for long enough to know my time was rapidly becoming up. This is not too difficult a thing to know given the skulduggery and bloodshed necessary to get the job in the first place; it is only a matter of ‘when’ for someone else to plot your exit.  I had contrived an almost ideal set up for myself – rum and coconuts for breakfast, crab sandwiches for lunch and a government credit card for dinner; no glad-wrap on the morning newspaper, afternoon naps and quilted date roll for the Royal Throne Room. But, even in that blissful Pacific Eden, jealousy and envy were afoot and I was finding their dance cards all over the joint.
Two things are required to get and keep a job like that. One - you need to be born with the chocolate starfish gene or have it spliced into your DNA before your first romper cough. Two – you need to have a Lobsang Rampa Llama type of third eye that sees all. I ticked both boxes and more.  One - I was born as not only an arsehole but as my father once described me to my parole officer ... a haemorrhoid on a shitty arse hole – and Two - I had the nous to get a bunch of extremely handy  “Third Eyes” from Secret Surveillance Devices is Us.  On the first attempt to depose me – when they simply tried to kick my arse – I had shoved a copy of the constitution down me underdaks. As it was a fairly thin volume that covered mainly my welfare  I also slipped in a couple of roofing tiles that made some fairly shabby dents in the bastards’ Doc Martins.  Well and truly alerted to the second attempt, I had lined my singlet with the Diplomatic Immunity plates I screwed off the Royal Simca, effectively turning the knife blades back at my attackers. Realising that they were getting  serious I was more ahead of them on the third attempt than they realised.  I didn’t taste  the Mickey Finn they slipped into my black coffee – I stayed awake every night as keeping an Argus eye on my “third eyes” -  so when I woke up,  chained to the busted Royal photocopier in the shark infested mangrove swamp, I shook my head sadly. If only they knew I had booby-trapped the lid of the Royal “throne” to a  gazillion megatonne bomb in the septic tank and grated a block of Laxettes into the Royal cocoa tin.  I was 250 kilometres away on Paradise Island when the bomb went off. It levelled the joint. Have to re-draw the maps of the region. Like I said, I was born and raised a chocolate starfish and it would take more than a bunch of hungry sharks and a rising tide to get the better of me.

Now, down to other business:

Friday night July the 2th, get yourselves along to the Bacchus Bar at Henley Beach to waft dreamily in the creamy muse that is Steve Brown and the Shit-Kickers... no, that's not right. It's the Steve Brown Band with  Steve Brown. And a band.  Good music in the blues and soul vibe and a grouse jont to have a beer with a friend. If you have any.

Friday night July 2 has Shine on at the Whitmore Hotel, Morphett Street, the City. Check out the  Whitmore, Live music and renovations! Oh, and the food is mighty nice as well.

Saturday Night, July the 3th, is a biggie -  I will write that in large letters - A BIGGIE - because Walking the lIne - Australia's Number one Johnny Cash Showband is doing a show at the -- hang on while I look it up -- at the North Haven Surf Lifesasvers' Club. I know this joint, it's great and the folks up there are funnier than a ruptured colostomy bag so you're guaranteed to have a great night - no matter what it costs you! Contact the club for bookings. Andrew Osborne: This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it or David Lucas, This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it

Sunday, July 4rd, is the day that the Cats Pyjamas are let out of the laundry bag. The Wine Underground will reverberate to the sound of Rock and Roll music played by the Cat''s Pyjams for the purposes of Rock and Roll dancing. That's all you need to know. Kicks off around 5 pm, costs you 5 bucks to get in and considerabley more to get out. See you there.The Wine Underground Coopers 1862 Bar is on Pirie Street, the City.

Sunday, July 4, catch  SWEET BABY JAMES & ROB EYERS at the Gilbert St Hotel. Voodoo music start at 2:30pm.

Wednesday July 7 is local Blues night at the Whitmore Hotel.