Man of action

Hiya fans

Yep, been getting out and about of recent. It's my popularity you see, it keeps me busy. Whether it's in the garden, looking at myself in the reflection of the back door or hanging out in Harris Park, I am the original man of action.

In the garden, I like to eat potting mix. I know, it's full of stuff you shouldn't eat, but damn it's tasty. All mum and dad have to do is leave the back door open and I am out like a shot and straight to the pots. When I am older, the pots will be of beer.

Damn I am cute. I have probably just put something in my gob, or mum caught me doing something I know I am not supposed to do. Like putting something in my gob.

So, I'm in training right. I'm gonna run this marathon to prove to my ex-girlfriend that I am the one for her...or something. Mum saw this movie called Run Fat Boy Run and that was the entire plot apparently. The Fat Boy didn't wear sweet Dunlop Volleys, so I would kick his arse.

Yes, the back door. A favourite place to sit and ponder how good looking I am.

Truly, if mum turns her back, I am off. There is so much to see, do and eat in the garden. And it's my job to hassle the basil plant (it's behind the watering can).

I went out to Harris Park the other weekend to help Jones celebrate her first birthday. Here we are with our dads just being Aussies in the backyard. Dad tried to show Dan how to barbecue.

That was after I showed Dad how to light it.

Later, I tried a bit of backyard dentisty on Jones. She has about the same amount of teeth as I do. I was also exploring the fridge magnets, which I heard were not very appropriate for small kids. Hey, gotta learn somehow.

And there you are, my recent adventures, distilled into a short, concise blog for your consumption.

Just don't drink it all in too quicky - you will get overwhelmed by the awesomeness of me and need a lie down. Like daddy does after a few KBs at Jets. Speaking of which, dad has promised to take me back to Henson Park in a few weeks. Look out for that blog, it will be, um, Jetty.

Cheers
Harper

Kia ora bros!

Hey bros

I've been hanging with my cuzzies in Wellington. That's in New Zealand eh bro. Yeah, I've been over the ditch with mum and dad and it was sweet as.

Below are some piccies of my awesome adventures. Fush and chups! Cook me some eggs! I'll have sex beers thanks!

Here's me and dad at the Departure gate. Dad is grinning like an idiot. I am not sure why, but he was drinking champagne on the way over...and it was a morning flight.

You want proof I was in Wellington? Zoom in on this pic - Split Enz are playing at the TSB Arena on March 25 (tickets at Ticketek.co.nz if you are keen).

The Botanical Gardens were ace. The playground was enormous and I had a beaut time on the see saw. I am up so high cos Dad is a fat bastard.

In Wellington, I choose to stay at Heather and Peter's place, in Wadestown. Here I am chillin' with their girls, Poppy and Soraya. I don't want to brag, but I got to bath with both of them...at the same time. Yeah man. Sweet.

One day, we were just cruisin' around Wellington in our totally hott Corolla when Dad spied the NZ cricket team practising at the Basin Reserve. So we pulled a park and headed in. Here's me with mum outside a museum to NZ cricket...yeah, I know, apart from the underarm incident back in 1981, what else could they have in there?

Here I am trying to get over the fence and onto the ground, to impress the lads with my sweet jacket. Thanks ma ma. It also looks like I am modelling for KMart.

And here's the real reason Mum was so keen on watching the boys train - some bloke called Daniel Vettori. Dad tells me he is the captain of the team, a very good left arm spinner, a very handy number eight batsman and is actually good enough to play for Australia. Mum told me that he was the business. I don't know what that means, but she was drooling more than me.

Here's me and Dad on NZ's longest swing bridge. It's high over a river and is indeed quite long. And when the wind blows, which is almost constant in NZ, this thing seriously bends. Which is why we didn't cross it. There was nothing on the other side anyway.

And lastly, I finally found something interesting to read on the plane on the way home. The safety card for the Airbus 320 is a great read - short on words but big on plot. Apparently they all made it out in the end down some sort of inflatable slide. Phew.

And there you go, fun for all in the capital city of our neighbours, them Kiwi people. They are nice folk, short with hairy feet, but they speak enough English for you to get by and they make some brilliant wine (so Dad reckons). Mum's not too keen on the deep fried fish, but that's another story. I can't tell you it now, cos she's be spewing if I did.

Cheers
Harper