Mermaid-mafia and water warrior types of the swimming pool – we salute you!

Poseidon-class, nuclear-powered submarines envy your ability to motor up and down those roped-off water lanes, all the while a picture of liquidy concentration.

What we’re curious about though – besides whether you really can sweat under water- is “What in water-logged tarnation do you aqua-men and ladies think about while you’re, er… ‘kicking back’ ?

It can’t all be about stroke correction and counting laps, can it?

Well, can it?

It can’t. And it most definitely isn’t. Even the most focused, water-tight mind will eventually begin to wander and experience the dreaded ‘laps in concentration’.

When that happens, the lap-swimmers mind ends up resembling less a titanium-plated sleek super-sub and more the type of rickety, driftwood raft Tom Hanks’s character somehow managed to cobble together in CAST AWAY.

Or is you prefer, more like the time Penelope Pitstop teamed up with the Ant Hill Mob to cross the river. Actually, the stroke technique of the two brown hats at the back isn’t that bad.

Dust off the embarrassing speedos and get ready with the leaky googles.

It’s time to take a deep dive into the wacked-out, random thoughts more likely really going on in the chlorine-soaked mind of the humble pool lap-swimmer.

Fans of the classic TV show GILLIGAN’S ISLAND really do owe it to themselves to click HERE.

Mermaid-mafia of the swimming pool – we salute you!

Poseidon-class, nuclear-powered submarines envy your ability to motor up and down those roped-off water lanes, all the while a picture of liquidy concentration.

What we’re curious about – besides whether you really can sweat under water – is “What in water-logged tarnation do you aqua-men and ladies think about while you’re, er… ‘kicking back’ ?

It can’t all be about stroke correction and counting laps, can it?

Well, can it?

It can’t. And it most definitely isn’t. Even the most focused, water-tight mind will eventually begin to wander and experience the dreaded ‘laps in concentration’.

When that happens, the lap-swimmers mind ends up resembling less a titanium-plated sleek super-sub and more the type of rickety, driftwood raft Tom Hanks’s character somehow managed to cobble together in CAST AWAY.

Or if you prefer, more like the time Penelope Pitstop teamed up with the Ant Hill Mob to cross the river. Actually, the stroke technique of the two brown hats at the back isn’t that bad.

Dust off the embarrassing speedos and get ready with the leaky googles.

It’s time to take a deep dive into the wacked-out, random thoughts more likely really going on in the chlorine-soaked mind of the humble pool lap swimmer.

Fans of the classic tv show GILLIGAN’S ISLAND owe it to themselves to click HERE.

Mermaid-mafia of the swimming pool – we salute you!

Poseidon-class, nuclear-powered submarines envy your ability to motor up and down those roped-off water lanes, all the while a picture of liquidy concentration.

What we’re curious about though – besides whether you really can sweat under water – is “What in water-logged tarnation do you aqua-men and women think about while you’re, er… ‘kicking back’?

It can’t all be about stroke correction and counting laps, can it?

Well, can it?

It can’t. And it most definitely isn’t. Even the most focused, water-tight mind will eventually begin to wander and experience the dreaded ‘laps in concentration’.

When that happens, the lap-swimmers mind ends up resembling less a titanium-plated sleek super-sub and more the type of rickety, driftwood raft Tom Hanks’s character somehow managed to cobble together in CAST AWAY.

Or if you prefer, more like the time Penelope Pitstop teamed up with the Ant Hill Mob to cross the river. Actually, the stroke technique of the two brown hats at the back isn’t that bad.

Dust off the embarrassing speedos and get ready with the leaky googles.

It’s time to take a deep dive into the wacked-out, random thoughts more likely really going on in the chlorine-soaked mind of the humble pool lap swimmer.

Fans of GILLIGAN’S ISLAND really should click HERE

Mermaid-mafia of the swimming pool – we salute you!

Poseidon-class, nuclear-powered submarines envy your ability to motor up and down those roped-off water lanes, all the while a picture of liquidy concentration.

What we’re curious about though – besides whether you really can sweat under water – is “What in water-logged tarnation do you aqua-men and ladies think about while you’re, er… ‘kicking back’?

It can’t all be about stroke correction and counting laps, can it?

Well… can it?

It can’t. And it most definitely isn’t. Even the most focused, water-tight mind will eventually begin to wander and experience the dreaded ‘laps in concentration’.

When that happens, the lap-swimmer’s mind ends up resembling less a titanium-plated sleek super-sub and more the type of rickety, driftwood raft Tom Hanks’s character somehow managed to cobble together in CAST AWAY.

Or if you prefer, more like the time Penelope Pitstop teamed up with the Ant Hill Mob to cross the river. Actually, the stroke technique of the two brown hats at the back isn’t that bad.

Dust off the embarrassing speedos and get ready with the leaky goggles.

It’s time to take a deep dive into the whacked-out, random thoughts more likely really going on in the chlorine-soaked mind of the humble lap swimmer.

If you’re a long-time fan of the classic television show GILLIGAN’S ISLAND, you owe it to yourself to click HERE.

Recently, I enjoyed a retro-watch of a 1981 bank robbery movie called THIEF.

THIEF is written, directed and produced by virtuoso film-maker Michael Mann and is the precursor to what many consider his master work, another bank robbery movie he made 14 years later, called HEAT.

I’ve always had a dedicated love of the 1995 film HEAT. Watching THIEF brought all those feelings to the surface. I just knew I had to do something about it.

The result is a not-too-serious mini suburban noir I’ve titled NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH… AND LISTEN!

Hope you enjoy it and remember, as Tom Sizemore’s character in the movie memorably says… the action IS the juice!

Fergus Argyle didn’t just love Michael Mann’s 1995 masterpiece HEAT – he lived it. He’d been known to wear charcoal suits, stare intensely at the ocean, and, most crucially, had installed a high-gain microphone in the drywall shared with his neighbor, Gary.

Gary, also a HEAT devotee, was a died-in-the-wool ‘Waingro apologist’, which Fergus found personally offensive. For three nights, Fergus sat in the dark, wearing heavy tactical headphones, waiting for the ‘score.’ He wasn’t looking for bank heist intel; he wanted to hear Gary’s leaked copy of the director’s recently-updated definitive commentary.

Suddenly, the signal hissed to life.

“The air’s raw tonight, Ralphie,” Gary’s voice crackled through the receiver. He was talking to his cavoodle. “Just like the lighting in the diner scene. Pure steel blue.”

Fergus leaned in, his heart hammering. In the movie, Al Pacino’s Vincent Hanna listens to De Niro’s Neil McCauley drilling into a safe. Fergus adjusted his levels, feeling like a wild urban predator. He heard a metallic clink.

“He’s prepping the drill,” Fergus whispered, quoting the film. “Give me the room! Give me the room!”

Through the headphones, a low, rhythmic grinding started. Whirr. Scrape. Thud.

“Yes,” Fergus hissed. “The vault. The silicon carbide drill bit. It’s happening.”

Just then, the audio changed. It wasn’t the sound of a professional thief bypassing a security system. It was the sound of a man struggling with a cheap IKEA Allen key.

“This coffee table is a goddamn weak design, Ralphie!” Gary shouted. “The instructions are a lie! It looked so glamorous in the showroom, but now it’s just particle board and despair!”

Fergus frowned. This wasn’t the high-stakes surveillance he’d envisioned. He wanted the tension of the Far East National Bank job, not a middle-aged man wrestling with a side table.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the wall.

“Slick!” Gary yelled, referencing the heist’s getaway driver. “I’ve snapped the mounting bracket! I’m down! I’m boxed in!”

Fergus couldn’t help himself. He grabbed his own microphone and keyed the frequency. “Son of a glitch! You’re acting like a cowboy, Gary! You want to be making moves on the street when you can’t even assemble a cheese ‘n crackers flat-pack?”

There was dead silence on the other end. Then, Gary’s voice came back, surprisingly friendly and, like his celluloid hero, unnervingly calm.

“Fergus? Is that you in the drywall? You’re doing the Hanna surveillance bit, aren’t you?”

“I… I have to leave in thirty seconds if I feel the heat around the corner,” Fergus stammered, committing to the bit.

“Ten degrees flat,” Gary replied, completing the quote. “Now come over here and help me lift this tabletop. It’s solid oak, and I think I may have pinned Ralphie.”

Fergus sighed, took off his headphones, and headed next door. His cover may have been blown, but the brotherhood of the cinephile remained.

This is an excerpt from one of HEAT‘s most well-known scenes, the restaurant meeting between Al Pacino’s character and Robert Deniro’s ‘Neil’ –

Now watch British actor Tom Hiddleston (‘Loki’ in Marvel’s THOR movies) do his absolute best impersonation of this scene…

This post has been brought to you by the new Harper Collins-published novel THE INFINITE SADNESS OF SMALL APPLIANCES.

Written by Canadian author Glenn Dixon and set in the near future, it tells the story of a sentient Roomba vacuum cleaning robot who sets out to save the humans in her house from a rising, evil technological power. Original, huh?

Inside a Korean restaurant in busy downtown Seoul, I spied what looked like a bowl of freshly prepared guacamole.

A few seconds later and I’d heaped a generous sized dollop of the green stuff onto my rice bowl, decorated with BBQed beef pieces, and … down the hatch!

The ‘guacamole’ that instantly set my mouth ablaze with the power of a thousand suns turned out to be none other than the cleverly disguised undercover agent that is… wasabi.

For those who’ve never experienced a wasabi ‘wake-up call’ before, allow me to say – if chili peppers are a slow-building campfire, then wasabi is nothing short of a precision-guided thermal missile aimed directly at your entire central nervous system.

A few days later when my wife remarked about the ‘avocado’ fighting back and how I’d wanted more greens in my diet, I’d finally ‘cooled down’ enough to enjoy the joke.

This post was composed for a weekly travel writing competition that asks readers to share a travel experience in 150 words or less (with or without photos).

The comp runs in a travel magazine called ESCAPE, found inside the Brisbane (Australia) newspaper, THE SUNDAY MAIL. There’s a monthly prize (something usually to the value of around $500) for the best story published. The address to send entries to is escape@news.com.au if you’d like to have a go. Click HERE to find out more details.

That picture of ‘me’ on fire and fleeing the restaurant was, very obviously, courtesy of our silicon friends at Skynet, or as most folk refer to it …A.I.

Wanna see some images from the reject pile? The instruction to A.I (Nano Banana) was “Create a cartoon image of an Aussie guy in his 50’s running out of a Korean restaurant with his mouth on fire.” And this is what I got –

I’m Aussie for sure, but not THAT Aussie, so I changed it to ‘guy in his 50’s’ and got this –

This was still a little too grandpa vibe for my liking, so I then opted for ‘guy in his 40’s’ –

I may not want to admit it, but these days I’m probably closer to the 50’s look than the 40’s one, however I’m clean shaven, so the ‘Jim Carrey’ version of ‘me’ was the one that got the nod.

How’s this for a literary flavored story plot – six struggling authors find themselves on a remote island where they race to complete the final chapter of a famous, recently-deceased author’s unfinished novel. The competition turns deadly over a tense 72-hour period in what critics have called a “clever locked-room thriller which is also a biting satire of the publishing world.”

Released last week, THE ENDING WRITES ITSELF is written by ‘Evelyn Clarke’, which is the pen name of co-authors Victoria Schwab (American, aged 39) and Cat Clarke (English, aged 47).

There we were sitting on a bench at busy Seoul train station in South Korea when my wife spied a silver 100-won (10 cents in Aussie currency) coin resting unnoticed under a nearby seat.

I was about to comment how it wasn’t even worth picking up when, at that precise moment, a homeless man carrying a small plastic ‘donation’ box came shuffling past. 

With not a word of delay, our fifteen-year-old daughter sprang into action, bending down to scoop up the wayward coin and calmly depositing it in the man’s box. 

Impressed with this sweet (and swift!) show of character, not to mention uncharacteristic teenage situational awareness, we dubbed her the ‘Won Hit Wonder’ – a title she enjoyed for the rest of our 10-day trip.

This post was composed for a weekly travel writing competition that asks readers to share a travel experience in 150 words or less (with or without photos). The comp runs in a travel magazine called ESCAPE, found inside the Brisbane (Australia) newspaper, THE SUNDAY MAIL. There’s a monthly prize (something usually to the value of around $500) for the best story published. The address to send entries to is escape@news.com.au if you’d like to have a go. Click HERE to find out more details.

While in Korea (arriving back in Brisbane this morning) I spied this book in one of Seoul’s titanic-sized book shops (yes, such a thing, on such a scale, still exists) –

Check out this for a plot – 10 people find themselves locked in a bank during a holdup. Then a murder happens. Everyone is a suspect but who exactly is the murderer?

Almost as interesting as my two all-time favorite bank robbery movies –

And speaking of Val Kilmer (well, we were talking about HEAT, right?) the trailer for his ‘new’ (Kilmer passed away this time last year) movie AS DEEP AS THE GRAVE has just been released.

The film is based on the true story of North America’s first female archaeologist Ann Morris (1900 -1945) who worked with the Navajo in the 1920s in Canyon de Chelly, Arizona to uncover North America’s first civilization – the Anasazi.

Val Kilmer can be seen on screen for 77 minutes of the films 111-minute running time.

How is this possible? Two amazing, future-shaping words – Artificial Intelligence.

Six months ago I had a knee operation.

The procedure was to repair something called a ‘meniscus tear’. And if you say it right, that sentence kind-of rhymes. Kind of. ‘Cause that’s tear as in rhymes with ‘bear’ and bloody well hurts; not tear as in saline liquid from an eye.

Recovery was gradual and for the first four months post-op I walked with a noticeable limp. In an effort to keep my spirits up, I imagined myself as one of my favorite movie characters, Snake Pliskin (Kurt Russell) from the movie ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK.

There’s a scene in that movie where our hero Snake gets shot in the leg with a crossbow arrow. For the rest of the movie, he gets around with a limp. A genuine, A-grade, blue-ribbon ‘nothing’s going to stop me’ – mind over matter – hero’s limp.

Here’s a taste of that classical hero’s’ limp...

It got me thinking, what other memorable movie characters have walked with an ‘injured gait’.

Jack Nicholson’s unhinged (mild understatement there) Jack Torrence character in THE SHINING developed his limp after tumbling down a flight of stairs after taking a whack from his baseball bat-wielding (defending) wife Wendy.

Then we had the endo-skeleton version of THE TERMINATOR (1984) who endured quite a bit of punishment to earn his mechanical limp…

They’re my top three.

An honorable mention should also go to Mel Gibson’s limp in MAD MAX 2.

He gets beaten pretty badly at a certain point in the film and the limp is probably the least of his hurts. But it is undeniably another classic hero’s rendition of the stylized injured walk in all it’s never-say-die glory.

Don’t have a clip for this one, so the next best thing is this scene, which ironically features another character (played by great Australian actor Mike Preston) who walks towards Max with, you guessed it, his very own… limp!

And before we limp away from this subject altogether, a final nod to a supporting character from the BLADE vampire trilogy that starred Wesley Snipes in the late 90’s/early noughties.

Whistler (coolly played by Kris Kristofferson) was Blade’s ageing mentor and ally in battle. This character walked with a limp, which in no way hindered his ability to machine-gun and shotgun away to his heart’s content blood sucking hipster vampires.

It’s brief but by God it’s there. The Whistler limp..

What’s that? You want a bonus limp? Ok, if you insist. This one’s from the ending to Clint Eastwood’s 1977 movie THE GAUNTLET. The blood on our hero’s leg when he steps off the bus looks more like he just lost a fight with a bottle of Heinz ketchup, but the limp? It’s top-tier, inspired and genuinely Oscar worthy. See for yourself…

The certified knee-slapper reproduced below was penned by humorist Greg Nix and appeared in the March 2nd edition of his highly entertaining newsletter CHORTLE.

This week, the Hatchette Book Group (one of the ‘big five’ global publishing companies) announced it had cancelled the U.S release of a horror novel titled SHY GIRL – originally self-published by Californian author Mia Ballard in February 2025 – as well as withdrawing the book from sale in the UK (effectively ‘limping away’ ) because of suspected use of A.I generated content.

You can read about the controversy HERE.

Sit right back and you’ll hear a tale—a tale of a fateful blog that started from this tropical port (my living room) aboard this tiny site.

If you’ve ever found yourself staring at a radio made out of two coconuts and a piece of wire and thinking, “Yeah, that seems scientifically sound,” then it’s entirely likely you have finally found your people, people!

Welcome to the official launch of GILLIGAN’S ISLAND: THE COLOUR YEARS – a place on the internet dedicated entirely to the seven most stranded people in television history.

GILLIGAN’S ISLAND ran for three seasons back in the mid 1960’s. Two of those seasons – spanning 62 episodes in total -were filmed in color. They’re the knee-slappers this blog will focus on, week by week.

Episode by episode, we will answer some of the big GILLIGAN’S ISLAND questions –

So, grab your favorite Hawaiian shirt, keep an eye out for headhunters, and get ready for coconut cream pie! But whatever you do—don’t let Gilligan touch the signal fire!

GILLIGAN’S ISLAND: THE COLOUR YEARS is ready to welcome you home and welcome you aboard.

Wanna jump on board the tour bus?

Click HERE to subscribe and begin your castaway adventure.

The views at Scenic Writer’s Shack are so often nothing short of travel magazine-worthy, but today the view from the 3rd place podium is even better.

Komiko Noir’s story ‘THE GRAND SLAM GHOST’ haunted its way into 3rd Place in the Scenic Writer’s Shack 2026 Humorous Short Story Contest! 🥉

Its style of paranormal activity was way more ‘‘haha’‘ than ‘aaaaah,’ and you’ve likely never seen a ghost with such a killer overhead smash.

While most ghosts merely rattle chains, this one really knew how to raise a racket, while putting it’s own unique spin on the genre.

Before any more unfortunate tennis puns get served up, its time now to read on and enjoy author Komiko Noir‘s –

It was a moonless night when Finn, an aspiring paranormal vlogger, decided to spend a few hours in the notoriously eerie Blackwood Cemetery. His mission: capture definitive proof of the spectral presence rumored to haunt the oldest section. Equipped with a night-vision camera and an over-reliance on caffeine, Finn was ready.

As he crept past crumbling gravestones, a faint, rhythmic thwack–thwack echoed through the misty air. His heart pounded. This wasn’t the usual creak of branches or hoot of an owl. This sounded… deliberate. He slowly turned his camera towards the sound, creeping closer to a particularly weathered mausoleum.

There, in the faint glow of his camera’s IR light, stood a translucent figure. It was wearing what looked like vintage tennis whites, complete with a sweatband, and was vigorously swinging an antique wooden tennis racquet at an invisible ball. The ghost was panting, muttering to itself.

“Forehand… too weak!” it groaned, a wispy sigh escaping its ethereal form. “Net fault again! Oh, Harold, you’re losing your touch even in the afterlife!“

Finn nearly dropped his camera. It was a wrong end of the telescope moment, he realized, shaking his head. This wasn’t a menacing spirit, but a spectral athlete obsessed with perfecting his serve, even centuries after his last match.

Suddenly, the ghost spotted Finn. Its translucent eyes widened. “Oh, finally! A living soul! Care for a quick set? My partner, Reginald, quit after I double-faulted at match point back in 1892. Been looking for a decent opponent ever since!”

Finn, a recreational player at best, gulped. Being challenged to a tennis match by a Victorian ghost in the middle of a graveyard was not in his vlogging script. He politely declined, citing an urgent ‘appointment with a very living alarm clock.‘ As he scurried away, he could still hear the ghost’s disappointed thwack-thwack, forever doomed to serve aces to an empty court.