brokeback monk

went on what we call a location reccie yesterday for pending film project with some of the boys [mischa, felix & michael]. we stayed in the bush overnight chasing the debri of the infamous sydney sandstorm before us.

stopping at a local country pub when we were on the brink of reaching our destination, the bartender told us that the hailstones which had followed the sandstorm had been the size of tennis balls & had knocked her garden frolicking puppy unconscious. she watched helplessly behind the safety of closed doors watching her car window screen smashed as her puppy lay being pelted by relentless rocks of ice [apparently it scrubbed up good since! um, OK...].

in the wake of the storm we hurried off to our mountain retreat and sat out the rain as it moistened our late night post-apocolyptic outdoor BBQ battle with the giant rats. stephen king would have had nightmares if faced with what we encountered on arrival.

using a large tin from the pantry to soften a rusty generator lock we were overwhelmed by the incredible stomach ripping stench which permeated from my cold pressed organic olive oil tin which had had the plastic lid chewed off by possibly man-sized rodents judging by the size of their souvenir shit & trail of destruction. seems they love plastic. en masse. to our horror we realised that they'd made it in... but not out. of. the. tin. coles might not be promoting our new line of anti-pasto rotting rat anytime soon but the aroma was well pungent enough to compete with some of the riper cheeses i've had the privilege to experience in france. one thing with all that quality oil, them bush mice certainly don't squeak anymore.

chasing deadlines we flew [as best one can in erm, questionably roadworthy truck] today back to the city to be further impeded by more fallen trees. somehow this one pictured above managed to literally break my back even though it had already fallen. it fell a second time once we moved it off the road. unfortunately on me. still it wasn't enough to hold me back from a free lunch in the city [review to come].

now amidst 48 hour film prep and a bunch of other stuff i have vertebrate x-rays etc to schedule tomorrow after being diagnosed with two possible broken vertebrates after the wine at the quay failed to hit the right spot.

so... if you ever want to visit us up in the mountains at the punk monk cabin & you want a free lunch, just ask for the jus de BBQ rodent & we'll oil up the barbie for you. just don't ask me to move any kamikaze trees. i only deal in rats.

[pix by punk monk felix pflieger]