Annabel Crabb has written a superb profile of Senator Penny Wong, Australia’s new Minister for Climate Change and Water. Alas, this was not the best way for me to discover that the death of her younger brother, my very good mate Toby Wong, was a suicide. I miss you, you crazy man.
Flash flood!
As a line of thunderstorms rolled across Sydney yesterday afternoon, the city was hit with a downpour. As my pimple-cam photo taken near Central Station shows, water was around 30cm deep in Pitt Street — note the woman immersed to her knees!
About 20 millimetres of rain fell in the CBD in just 10 minutes — which happens only once every two to five years, said a Bureau of Meteorology forecaster, Chris Webb. In the hour to 5pm, 29 millimetres of rain were recorded in the city.
A man died when an awning collapsed in Balgowlah. The State Emergency Service took more than 70 calls for help.
You can see more photos via the Sydney Morning Herald.
You should stop…
This is the “best joke I’ve heard in a while”, says my friend Richard:
I went to see my doctor today. He told me I should stop masturbating.
I asked him why.
He said, “Because I’m trying to examine you.”
[Update: This joke was found at Crying all the way to the fish shop. Ta, Richard.]
Back!
OK, I’m back in Sydney. Did I miss anything?
Long Live the King!
Our last night in Bangkok happens to be the 80th birthday of King Bhumibol Adulyadej (ภูมิพลà¸à¸”ุลยเดช). The TV will have shown you the official celebrations of the world’s longest reigning monarch but, as usual, ’Pong and I chose a different path.
Instead of joining the squillions of yellow-clad Thais in the streets of the old city, we were on the notorious Patpong Road in the Silom district. The soi (ซà¸à¸¢) was lined with bar girls and ladyboys and rowdy street vendors — all wearing yellow shirts and holding yellow candles — plus a few confused-looking tourists.
’Pong has some great photos, taken when the video screens which normally show adverts for the girlie shows instead beamed us images of the King in all his finery. We all held burning candles, and those who knew the words (i.e. every Thai) sang the Royal Anthem, a song traditionally sung on royal birthdays and a third, new celebratory song, We love the King.
Very moving, though I wanted to knife the tiny handful of inconsiderate tourists who barged their way through the singing. Most, however, were soon handed a candle and joined the happy throng. Many had even bought their own yellow shirts earlier in the day.
Five minutes later, we were once more being offered ping-pong shows and “sex DVD, sir?”
Suvarnabhumi Airport lacks a safety certificate
A fact I’m glad I didn’t know before I arrived in Thailand. Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport (ท่าà¸à¸²à¸à¸²à¸¨à¸¢à¸²à¸™à¸™à¸²à¸™à¸²à¸Šà¸²à¸•à¸´à¸à¸£à¸¸à¸‡à¹€à¸—พ-สุวรรณภูม) doesn’t have a Department of Civil Aviation airport safety certificate. Suvarnabhumi continues to operate because the requirement has yet to be adopted into Thai law.