22 August 2006

Forget counting chromosomes


For just today, forget politics, forget the Islamic bomb, forget the real world runs on a sea of grease.

If you don't love bulldozers, you'd better drop what you're doing and go straight to the nearest sex-change clinic... because you ARE officially a woman.

I just spent three exhilarating hours out back in our woods, watching a Cat 955 break a rough logging road through a half kilometre of previously impenetrable bush. At the end of the run, heading back to the house for beers, it felt like we'd won some sort of battle.

My wife thinks I may be mildly retarded. I say, "Vive la difference."

So what is about men and machinery?

From the time he was a few months old, my now ten year old son has loved planes, trains and machinery of any sort. His first word was not mummy or daddy... or even no.

It was car.

From a very early age... he made guns out of paper & scotch tape. Call me cocky, but I'm guessing he'll never be bringing home his very special friend Scott, or Thad, or whatever. Does that make me some kind of Neanderthal?

Well, tough shit. I still love bulldozers.

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