Monday - 3:59 p.m.

Dean Moriarty, Dean Moriarty, Dean Moriarty…

That was the name on the sign. It pointed down the road to Dean Moriarty. Actually, it was just a town in Tasmania called Moriarty but someone had come along and, with what looked like a specially made stencil, applied the forename to alter the whole thing into a beatific salute to the coolest guy this side of Sal Paradise.

Meanwhile…

We were standing in the bottle shop at Biescheneu in Tasmania and were startled to discover that, if you bought a dozen Brown Bros. Cab Shiraz you would go into the draw to win a George Foreman Healthy Grill. We were immediately entranced because, as you no doubt already know, George Foreman was the guy who beat Larry Holmes and regained the World Heavyweight crown even though he was a big, fat tub or lard who ate cheeseburgers and did no training whatsoever but still won on account of the fact that he could take a punch.

Mr. Oaf asked the man behind the counter what the hell a George Foreman Healthy Grill was, thinking that it was an ironic gag that involved a free for all in the pub’s restaurant.

"No," said the man as he pointed, "That’s a George Foreman Healthy Grill."

And lo, so it was. A photo of George gesturing at a portable grill that drained away unsightly fats leaving just the flavour of tasty, flame grilled meats.

"He’s lost a lot of weight," the man said.

"Yes," said Mr. Oaf "And he could take a punch."

"Indeed," said the man.

Dog Has Top Ride

Mr and Mrs. Oaf were entertained by a dog on the back of a ute. Said dog had hours of fun sticking his head around the side of the truck, then, wagging its tail wildly, running to the other side to stick its head out again. If only life were so simple for everyone.

Teddy, Nesbitt, Stow Away on Holiday

It may have been that bear with the pants that Mr and Mrs. Oaf said goodbye to a week ago because no sooner had they stepped off the plane in Burnie that they discovered Teddy and Nesbitt had stowed away and were making themselves at home on the back seat of the rental.

Well, they should have known better because they were soon shamed by the shameless arse of the local Tasmanian animals. There were Pademelon Wallabies, a quol or two, a wombat, numerous possums and a flightless Pea Hen that was, in temperament, rather like a cross between a Crested Pigeon and Brush Turkey… and all that was just in the first day. Then we say a bunch of Fairy Penguins who had taken arse to new heights.

"I Can Tell By Your Outfit That You Are A Cowboy!!"

There has been a lot of discussion lately of finding a bear for Tony and Tegan. We had honestly given up. There was nothing happening, no talent and Teddy was in a funk.

Then, in Hobart, next to a cool CD shop that sold cool jazz Mr and Mrs. Oaf found a bear. It had a red tie on. It looked cute but it had a certain joi de vivre. We liked it from the first and as we explained the gig to the bear it became obvious he was the bear for the job. The odd thing was that this bear didn’t want to tell us his name.

Nesbitt questioned the bear intently for some hours as we drove north towards Launceston. Some possibilities emerged. He could be the Berlington Bertie From Bow that was immortalised in song. Then he quickly changed tack and claimed his name was Bill E. Bear or, to use the more formal honorific William E. Bear Esq..

Whatever his name is, we’re all pretty excited. First, he’s just right for the job. Secondly and most importantly, he’s a monumental pain in the arse and we’ll be happy to see the end of him. He kept singing the lyrics to The Streets of Laredo, over and over and wouldn’t stop.

Then there was the cuteness factor. Nesbitt, still contending with the huge quantities of arse in nature, was aghast to discover that the bear was possibly, marginally, a soupcon, cuter than he and even if that wasn’t true, he had a high degree of perkiness…

Although Tony has been contacted and the advised of the arrival of the bear, Nesbitt is currently livid.

Scribe

Scribe left a note the other day asking if we could please ask Holly to update. Hey, ask her your damn self, buddy. Our job is to make the world a little bit Teddy. Your job is to remind Holly to update. It’s Holly’s job to be vague and difficult to pin down while stringing you along with promises of fame and fortune. That’s just the way it is and as we’ve often said, there’s no use crying about it.

bears in history - future bears

“This diary cracked me up, completely, perhaps the oddest diary I have ever read. I'm not sure if it's a takeoff on something or someone that I have somehow missed. Regardless, TEZNEZCO! chronicles the adventures of two bears and describe them as if they are a minority of some sort. The writing is disturbingly matter-of-fact as if it is perfectly normal to be writing about these bears as people. I like it; it's pleasantly novel" - Diaryreview

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