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Greeting, fellow ranters, and I do hope you had a nice weekend, filled with a restful yet invigorating round of oppressing and thwarting. 

Now, Christmas in July is all very well as an excuse to consume vast amounts of the type of food you can't eat in summer because

a) it is too hot and

b) you're busy drinking egg nog with ice cubes in and watching the Boxing Day Test, pausing only to feign death when the subject of going to Mass is raised

But this, fellow evil masterminds, is NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

On Saturday I set the alarm (trip wire check, trap door under welcome mat linked to chute and boiling mud pond, check) and went shopping.

Popping into Baker's Delight for a couple of crusty Hungarians (and some rolls for lunch as well - boom, boom), when I got home (luckily remembering to disable the trip wire and scrape the remains of the door to door insulation salesmen out of the chute) I noticed that the bag of rolls was inviting me to ho, ho, ho into fruit mince tarts this Christmas!

Now, I like the occasional fruit mince tart, but surely 9 months before Christmas is a bit early to start spruiking them? Won't they be the tiniest bit stale by December??

Surely this is just a case of the local bakery just recycling some excess bags left over from Christmas, just well into March, right?? Right???

Bueller? Bueller?? Anyone, anyone?? Enough question marks??

I have to walk past this advertising nightmare promoting the inner-city redevelopment around Newspaper House on the Terrace several times a week. And every time all I think to myself is "have we learned NOTHING from Naomi Robson-gate?"
Clearly we haven't, fellow ranters. Clearly we haven't.

Don't know about you, fellow ranters, but it seems that this month's worth of indifferent photos has been dragging on for about 5 years now .. but we're on the homeward stretch now with a mere 9 days to go!

Though a sizeable donation to the Champagne-Filled Jacuzzi in the Secret Volcano Lair Staffed Permanently by Jonathan Rhys Meyers would certainly bring it to a premature conclusion. Just address the envelope to my old drinking buddy Rosa Klebb via the usual SPECTRE safe house...

All going well in the lair with much evil gardening taking place. Evil digging in of fertiliser, evil re-potting of some ferns, evil plotting to take over the world while deciding to make a feature out of the camellias. Spent the afternoon feeding a few disloyal henchmen through the shredder when I ran out of compost and could not face the thought of going back to Bunnings for the 14th time in a single weekend.  I now have the most scheming, recalcitrant fertiliser in the street! As a result, I fear the lemon tree and my agave cactus are up to something....

Snapped the following while out for celebratory birthday lunch with Best Friend Who Lives in Middle of Nowhere But Occasionally Ventures into Mandurah to Shop and Show her Son the Benefits of Electricity, Paved Roads and Inside Toilets.

Mandurah - Home of the Incontinent Seagull since 1924

Greetings, fellow ranters. Just back from a lovely Monday holiday out with dear friends and fellow super-villains Renard and Electra King, who are on a fleeting visit from post-Soviet Russia.

When Sister Who is Now Obsessed with Tiles and Soon to Join the Ranks of Us People with Crushing Mortgages went looking at display homes in Cockburn the other weekend, she encountered the following very, very scary artwork in one particular show home.

I don't know about you, but even an especially evil mastermind would think twice about turning off the lights with these terrors on the walls - you just know the snuggly bunny rabbit will be up to something unspeakable...

I am fairly sure that in all the endless property shows I watch on Fox, none of them have ever said that stealing souls through artwork which is actually a dread portal into a parallel dimension would actually encourage buyers to part with their cash...

Well, after countless phone calls, a formal letter of complaint and one very ranty blog post, Evil Faceless Power Supply Corporation has finally admitted they overcharged me back in August and credited me the $118 they owed me!

You remember, they charged me for two weeks in the old lair and then for the same period when I moved into the new one. Then a succession of call centre staff drove me insane by refusing to concede that I, either of my houses or the offending bill actually existed. And giving themselves non-Indian names like Amber and Valerie wasn't fooling anyone!

So, a victory to all of us evil masterminds who are just not willing to allow the faceless bureacracy to win..

And I'm sure their CEO will be pleased that he will wake up tomorrow morning NOT dangling over the shark pool. It'll make a nice change for him....