Nearly every bus or train company logo has an arrow on it. But in Sydney they kick the arrows up a notch with some sweet motion blur. • A long bus trip through central South Island is lovely, except when driver plays ghastly Disney ice hockey movie (Mighty Chiefs 3, ★☆☆☆☆) • Oh, curse you, Wikipedia; here I am, at midnight, reading about the feud between Eminem and the Insane Clown Posse. With footnotes. • People keep mistaking me for the Grammar Police. At best I’m a washed-up private eye. Usually just a stool pigeon. • Favourite words from Michael Chabon’s The Yiddish Policeman’s Union: tohubohu, shpilkes, patzer, shaydl, freylekh. • Bringing a ukulele to a jam session is like bringing a knife to a gunfight where everyone’s firing their guns REAL LOUD WOO HOO YEAH. • Misheard “brick-throwing” contest at Stroud Country Show as “pig-throwing”. Like hammer throw? Ridgebacks more aerodynamic? Weight classes? • Although I love Björk and Sigur Rós, I don’t think we’ll be naming our band Eyjafjallajökull. • Headline: “Teens’ amazing escape from airborne car”. Nope, actually just “briefly-airborne”. A pity—I’d have bought that paper. • One happy side effect of not having a TV or radio is that I’ve yet to hear a Kiwi journo trying to pronounce Eyjafjallajökull. EY-af-yat-ly-a-kut, or EY-ef-ed-lay-uke, or AYE-ya-fyah-dla-yow-kudl. Depending on which native Icelandic speaker you ask. • Eyjafjallajökull is, sort-of: “Eh? a Fiat, la yoghurt”, said reallyreallyfast. There, sorted. Last volcano-pronunciation tweet, promise. • Just been served a vile meal at Etrusco, Dunedin. Avoid. They said their bread was fresh from Brumby’s; I wouldn’t feed my dog bread from Brumby’s. Tempted to actually get a dog, just to be able to truthfully make this claim. • Karl May’s Wild West stories (enjoyed by Hitler and Einstein) were later filmed in Yugoslavia with German-speaking cowboys & indians. • @adzebill

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