A copy of Eats, Shoots and Leaves arrived in the post today from the lovely Dylan and Rachael in Melbourne. M got some music cds. It was basically a care package to ensure our continued survival up here, away from all our friends, melting in the humidity. How nice is that? Very nice.

I have been hanging out to read this book a-g-e-s and the opening pages soothed my savage little faux literary soul. There is a ‘Shark Museum’ near to where we live, and the sign out the front reads:

‘See Vic’s Latest Film: Why Do Whales beach Themselves

No question mark. It drives me mad. M and I practice saying it as a statement to each other (something that is hard, when the ‘statement’ begins with ‘why’). We try to say ‘themselves’ in a modulated, BBC kind of tone, but it’s hard. Before we leave Hervey Bay we are going to put that sign to rights.

Why Do Whales Beach Themselves

  • a) they’re trying to find the question mark
  • b) to get to the other side
  • c) because they found themselves in an elephant cemetery*
  • * ‘Elephant cemetery‘ is the colloquial term for Hervey Bay – because it’s where a lot of very old fat people come to die. I didn’t say it was pleasant.