Month: August 2018

I still haven’t found what I’m looking for…

An open letter to the politicians of Australia, well we’d like to send you one but politics just isn’t our scene as our readers will tell you. We’ve been there tried that and unfortunately we just didn’t get the tee-shirt besides the fact that it would be foul-smelling and stained with tears of our Aussie battlers far and wide. So without further ado we welcome you to this week episode of Australia’s premier blog about life, love and all things real. Ok, ok so this weeks blog is more about searching for love and the things that people will go through to find it.

As this writer sat down last week with his wife to relax after a hard days work in the office ensuring the executives all get there bonuses off the back of the worker drones. The TV was set to channel 10 perhaps the Project was on or something else. We probably had our head buried in a book or were taping out an installment of this blog. Any who reality tv made its way onto the television before us.

So it’s not a new addition to their line up however it is the first time this writer has actually sat through a whole episode and in this case more than one episode. And it is all thanks to one man, one man who has cemented his place in Australia’s sporting history. Perhaps not through his sporting prowess, but certainly through is Aussie Larrikin, down to earth, salt of the earth, surfer boy ways.

Hailing from Australia’s undisputed home of esky lid riding or bodyboarding for those in the biz, that’s business folks. Nick “Honey Badger” Cummins, who was clearly a private school kid seeing as it seems to be a sport for the toffees and only only private school kids seem to play it these days was a former Wallaby, Western Force and according to the Internets sole authoritarian website Wikipedia which is a source of truth for so many high school kids assignments, he also played for the Coca Cola Red Sparks in the Japanese league. For those of you overseas or who just aren’t into sports they are all Rugby Union teams.

Just quickly it’s the game where big men pile on top of each other or get into these things called scrums that look like they are sticking the heads up each others backsides looking for god knows what. They certainly aren’t going to find the god particle up there.

Enter the Bachelor all 99kgs and 189cm of the man affectionately known around the world as the Honey Badger. Not your typical choice for channel 10s premier reality show in which the contestants go looking for love in all the wrong places or in this case women. After last season of the Bachelorette where we saw Gold Coasts Sophie Monk the undisputed queen of the bogans looking for love it should have been no surprise that the boy from Port Macquarie is on our screens.

If you have no idea who the Badge is, you needn’t look too far. Turn on the idiot box and wait for one of those Tradie underwear advertisements to come on. The bloke with the moustache and curly hair with is ears taped back, chiseled like a Greek god who is spouting Aussie phrases. Funnily enough its it’s his use of these colloquialisms and his often brutally honest jokester approach that has made him a hit In a world where athletes with big personalities seem to be repressed.

The Honey Badgers use of colloquialisms to describe situations and or feelings whether they be his own or those of one of the female contestants vying for his love and affection makes the viewing of the Bachelor all the more worthwhile. If you don’t find yourself laughing at his Larkin self you’ll certainly find yourself laughing at the cringe worthy women who are somewhat slowly helping to undo all the great work women have done around the world for women’s rights.

Don’t get us wrong these women are being treated by the Badge with the utmost respect but respect for each other seems to be lacking. Often just moral decency for fellow human being seems to disappear but what can we the public expect when you pit affection starved women against one another for the love of a honey badger. At a mind of its it’s own we can only hope he can tell the difference between a honey pot and a honey trap as a lot of these women seem to be on the show for one reason and one reason only. FAME…

Watching on you see the girls who are there for themselves and have found an opportunity to put themselves in the limelight and then there are the crazy ok there is one who is almost bordering on stalkerish behaviour. The rest are there to see what happens and no doubt looking for love themselves. It wouldn’t make good viewing if there wasn’t drama but “Holy Tamora” as the Badge would say some of these women are busier backstabbing each other than a one-armed bricklayer in Baghdad.

The team at A Mind of Its Own are as nervous as a bag of cats at a greyhound meet for the Badge in his crusade for love. We can only hope this Aussie Legend find the right woman and crosses the line for a bit of meat. That’s short for Meat Pie aka a try another one of Badges colloquialisms used frequently in his interviews from his football days.

Gone are the days where you have to work hard to find your significant other. Courting no longer exists and chivalry is whilst not quite dead is often on the couch where you made it sleep. With technology we have become lazy in our quest for love. Online dating, online matchmaking, hook up apps and even complex algorithms that will supposedly spit out your perfect match within minutes of your application. So with all this available at your fingertips and the risk of being catfished by a big balding, sweaty guy in a foreign country why would you go on a reality show searching for the one?

It’s a question that will no doubt be put to the Badge as he continues his hunt for the honey of his life. In the meantime like us you should sit back, relax and enjoy the laughs with the man as he attempts to whittle down 30 girls to just the one. We could have saved him the hassle and got him together with Sophie they’d make a great pair and both of them are rather funny.

So from A Mind of Its Own if you are looking for love these are the places you are likely not to find it. Firstly tinder is not a place to go looking for love, secondly bars and clubs and thirdly reality tv shows. There are plenty of fish in the sea just dive in and start fishing. We are all scared of rejection but what’s more powerful fear of rejection or fear of ending up alone?

Don’t be the captain that goes down with the ship, take a risk or two, knock a few people out of the lifeboat…

Abandon Ship or Abandon All Hope…

Like discovering a new planet or species of animal, all discoveries require research, so for this week’s episode the team at A Mind of Its Own pulled on their gym shorts donned their singlets that barely cover the bulging beer bellies and laced up our best pairs of dunlop volleys in order to head out and get some much needed exercise. Like a bunch of clowns we jumped into the Tarago and headed off into the Sun, towards the surf and sand, the glitz and glamour of Australia’s home of the cashed up bogan. Welcome to Ipswich!!! Just kidding we are back again on the gold coast looking like a 70’s NBA team with way too much skin showing for middle aged white males.

First of all if you are searching for a McDonalds, KFC and Hungry Jacks what you may have noticed is there is pretty much one on every major street corner. What you might have also noticed is gym’s have become the health junkies fast food franchise. We’d do the maths and give you the average amount of gyms per suburb but it’s just passed whiskey o’clock and our brains only seem to work between the hours of 9 to 5 without the aid of alcohol to drive our cognitive patterns. If it’s after 5pm our filter packs up for the day, our sense of humour comes home to increase the hilarity and our caution to the wind disappears altogether like last nights vindaloo down the dunny in the wee hours of the morning.

Like Roxanne putting on her red light, the gyms are lit up for all to see. There bright advertising invites you to come inside and transform from flab to fab. The reception is generally manned by a beautiful person to show you exactly what can happen if you too come in and spend time sitting in other people’s sweat after they forget to wipe down the machines. As we watched the hard earned pineapples leave our wallet and fly across the counter into the male models chiselled hands, a row of pearly whites flashed a knowing look our way. We began to wonder what drives people to come to these testosterone filled, bloated ego dens. We half expected to walk into the changerooms and transport into an American football locker room with blokes flicking each other with towels and the coach handing out steroid injections.

We’d entered the belly of the beast, there was no turning back now. We needed to soldier on and stop making excuses as our team of unwilling beer guzzlers was lead up stairs to the gym floor. With our tails between our legs we’d have just as soon as run back down the stairs and all the way to the safety of the NSW border then be in this hell. We’d entered a land never seen before… Everywhere we looked, we saw people with no necks and ladies with bigger guns than some of the Australian Navy’s warships. Mirrors adorned the walls with people staring at themselves as they ensure there form was correct. Form you ask? So did we after we questioned how vain all these people were.

Have you ever wondered why a lot of people just refuse to go to the gym these days? Well at a mind of its own we think we’ve found the answer. Enter any gym around Australia… First of all if we got you there you’ve no doubt noticed all the mirrors, what else have you noticed? It’s the dudes with tattoo sleeves bulging muscles, skinning legs and no necks right? Or the older ladies with bolt ons, makeup that looks like its been applied with there tradie husbands trowel and the orange glow of their skin? Or is it the looks you keep getting everytime you go to use a machine that one of the roided up egos has been alternating between when he or she is not staring at themselves in the mirror wondering how they’ll go this saturday night trying to pick up. And some of these people could quite literally pick up other people and throw them around a room in a fit of aggressive passion.

Like crotchety old men we are pushed towards a bench and told to lift some weights. The term “Do you even lift” gets thrown around a little too much and the muscle men in front of the mirror laugh and shake their heads as we strain to get the bar and the meager 5kgs on either end moving in a repetitive nature that the trainer is happy with. By now he is starting to lose his patience with our un-coordinated lack of ability to do anything that resembles bench press. Finally though he wins through and like true professionals we find the exercise for us.

Who knew bicep curls and drinking were so closely related. As we lifted heavier and heavier pretending we were lifting stiens of Germany’s heaviest, sweetest ales to our mouths. The hour session continues to drag out as we move from station to station still perplexed by how serious people are taking their workouts. There are guys throwing around weights channelling their inner Arnie, young ladies who have almost done an hour of nothing but squats as they work their glutes into a Kim Kardashian frenzy for the perfect bum.

Triangles flex in front of the mirrors forgetting leg day for the 100th session in a row. There skinny little legs starting to bow at the strain of carrying around there large muscled upper bodies. The serious gym goers grunt out a session, sweating as they push themselves harder and harder through each exercise while the plastics do just enough to keep there figure and slight tone while trying to wear as little as possible to attract looks from all around. The trainers laugh at their own jokes and talk about their weekends while pushing clients to breaking point. Creepy guys watch on as girls try to work out in peace, no wonder a lot of women go to Fernwood. And then there are the other guys. The ones who just want to maintain their fitness and do it without losing their dignity.

Finally done it’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, in this case it literally has, all those weighted lunges can’t be good for your knees, back and any other part of your body. That deep burn you keep hearing about isn’t so deep as you feel it begin to radiate through your entire body like an oil slick spreading from a crashed tanker. Walking out feeling like we’d been run over by Optimus Prime and the entire Autobots entourage. The pain pain was only going to get worse as we soon discovered. Two days later… enter DOM no not a bloke named Dom who we had a disagreement with whilst at the gym sitting in his sweat but delayed onset muscles soreness or DOMS. It’s the pits and we are starting to see why people hate the gym.

Ok so the gym might not be for everyone, or more importantly gyms on the Gold Coast might not be for everyone. If you like looking at yourself in the mirror, have ridiculous tattoos, drive a car like your part of the fast n furious crew, have no neck and think you are super good looking then the gold coast gym scene is definitely for you. If you want to go and work out without having to deal with all this we suggest you do during the day before lunch or after lunch before work finishes. Or you could always just install your own home gym and be done with the machine hogs.

As we sneak away from yet another session in the gym where our arms and legs are burning and our egos are feeling a little shattered. We hope you’ve enjoyed this week’s installment of a mind of its own, no roid rage was endured or encounter in the making of this blog. We hope we haven’t offended any gym frequenters in our take on Gold Coast gyms. If we have you’ll get over it before the next set is done. For another week it’s over and out and from the team at A Mind of Its Own, you do you champ.

Raspberry Beret…

Well for once in our lives we’ve decided to agree with the 1985 hit song from Prince and embrace our inner fashionista. Welcome to this week’s instalment of the nation’s fastest rising blog. Like a slow bake cake we’ll rise when the temperature is right and the world is ready for our antics. Sit back, relax and let the good times roll as we take you on yet another journey into the wonderful world around us. The inspiration for this weeks post came to us in an alcohol fuelled rendition of Billy Joel’s ‘We didn’t start the fire’.

Like all things a mind of its own this one pretty much wrote itself in the Sunday morning hangover drive through line of your closest McDonald’s. As the fog of one too many beers began to clear a beautiful post manifested itself in the writing department of our minds. As we stated this one wrote itself on the back of quiet night in with a few friends. If you are an inquisitive person you are probably asking yourself what Prince, Fashion and Billy Joel could have inspired? We certainly were as the boffins went to work pumping this one out.

When you think fashion what do you think? Catwalks? Overly skinny girls modeling the summer or winters latest designs around the globe? Men strutting their stuff or really, really good looking people aka Derek Zoolander? Well one piece of clothing that often gets overlooked, underrated and not given enough credit or airtime on the catwalks of Milan, Paris and other old world fashion capitals around the globe. What is it you ask? As far as being cryptic goes you wear it, it can cover even the most ugliest of people and fix things like no other.

We are talking about head coverings, hats, beanies, headdresses, yamakas, if it goes on your head there is a fair chance you won’t see it being displayed at fashion week. Classed as accessories they’ve been the best of friends to premature balding men the world over, worn the wrong way by redbull fueled extreme athletes and kept the warmth in people’s heads in the harshest of environments. We would have like to have spent the time doing some research into hats, beanies and the like but that would have been to painful on a Sunday afternoon as the rest of the team nap around us.

The most popular of head clothes is by far the cap, worn by all to shade our faces, reduce the risk of sun damage, cover our balding heads or bad haircuts, stop surveillance cameras getting a clear shot of our face, hide hangovers and most of the time as an alternative to having to do our hair. While cowboys and farmers prefer the wide brim, hipsters have adopted the fedora, kids and young adults wanting to maintain their youthfulness have chosen the flat brim. The Jewish community have there own little hat although it only really covers the bald spot at the back of their heads.

Hats come in all different shapes and sizes, they have various functions and are made from many different fabrics.But we don’t need to tell you our readers as we knew you are all a bunch of smart eggs. What we do need to tell you is that this blog was inspired by a particular piece of head clothing. For generations men and women have been wearing it and yet in everyday life it has seemed to dwindle away. Those that have one may have to dig into the back of their closest to find it but we here at A Mind of Its Own are telling you to do it and predicting they’ll make a come back. Unlike the thousands of fashion bloggers out there we won’t be including any photos of us in front of the mirror modelling anything.

What happened to the Beret, well besides militaries around the globe adopting it as headwear of choice for some of their regiments. Back in the mid eighties Prince made them popular particularly Raspberry ones. Speaking from experience we can safely say they are the most underrated in the hat family. Yes they look good on military men and woman standing at attention on the parade ground but they are also comfortable, warm and can be worn a variety of different ways. We did our homework on them to ensure all myths around this amazing style of hat were debunked. Trying on a few was like putting heaven on the head, the beret is truly a modular piece of headwear that can dressed up or down. It’s both smart and casual at the same time.

So back to those beers that were being had while a thirty something male danced around the living room singing Billy Joel. This suave and sophisticated cat was rocking none other than a beret. Looking part military, part hipster he reminded us that the Beret had been forgotten in the world of fashion and is a hat that more people should consider when they step into their local hat shop. We are assuming there are still stores that are dedicated to selling the globes finest head clothes? If not there is always the Internet that brings us so many wonderful things! Like this blog for instance! There’s nothing wrong with a shameless plug.

From A Mind of Its Own to you, if you take anything from this blog or any of our blogs do yourself a favour and think twice about which advice you take from us but for now. If you own one get it out if you don’t go and get yourself one. Support the Beret! We certainly will be, for this week anyways. If we were a military body it would be our head clothes of choice. Many a charismatic character has worn the beret proudly, generally in the cinematic universe but hey if John Wayne can wear one why can’t we all and who knows maybe the French will get back into the spirit this year at Fashion week in Paris. If not we can always ask for another revolutionary like Che Guevara to make them popular again.

As the sun hits the horizon and starts to disappear from view, our hearts let out a sigh signalling the weekend is yet again almost over and tomorrow we head back to the real world. Argh work, perhaps we’ll start a petition for 4 day work weeks in which everyone does 10 hours a day. Long weekends every week, or at least a siesta like our Spanish friends. Who doesn’t love a nap in the middle of the day. From the team here, thank you once again and enjoy your week working for the man. The Europeans are on to something with their work/life balance. Power to the people! Peace out.

The Quiet Things that no one knows…

It’s another double week here at A Mind of Its Own headquarters, double martini’s, double espresso, double trouble and for our adoring fans that means you get double the awesomeness to get you through the weekend. We’ve searched high and low for another stellar topic to follow-up on the pampered pooches soft piece earlier in the week. It didn’t take the boffins down in the lab long to pull out a topic that I am sure strikes a chord with many of our female fans and one that this writer’s wife has voiced her opinion quite strongly about on several occasions.

We live in a world that is interconnected, we have mobile devices, instant message, video chat, you name it and it’s probably already there. We are still hanging out for a true hoverboard though like Marty McFly but give it a couple a years and we are sure we’ll be yelling at kids to slow down as the gravitate past at speed. So with all this technology you think we (Men) would be happy getting on a conference call and gossiping like a bunch of school kids behind the toilets at lunch while puffing on some stolen menthol cigarettes as we just aren’t quite prepared to go the full leaded option just yet.

Being male we can safely say that we are happy to chat but prefer to be doing something while we are chatting. Playing around of golf, some poker, shearing sheep, pretending to work at desk, sitting at your local watering hole, are just some of the examples of guys getting together and having a chat about life. So what do you do if you have a group of mates who want to catch up regularly but are all in different locations and have varying reasons as to why catching up face to face isn’t always possible. Distance being number one. Unlike our female counterparts who can sit on a call for hours, upon hours filling in friends on their week and how many cute guys or girls they saw at the gym while eating a whole tub of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream on their own, Men just can’t focus on the conversation for that amount of time.

We’ll give you an example, you promise your other half that you will take out the rubbish on your way to work one morning, however in your rush to get ready you spend way to long in the mirror trimming your wayward nasal hairs and forget. So upon your return after a hard days work at the office where you’ve stood around the water cooler filling your day talking to anyone who will listen so you don’t actually have to sit there and look at spreadsheets, you walk in the door and immediately get chewed out. What you will see is the nodding and agreeing coupled with an apology. What you don’t see is that we’ve gone on autopilot and are already wondering what is for dinner or to watch on TV, are there any beers left in the fridge?

The example is not that we aren’t listening, we are! We hear it all, it’s that we are already thinking about the next thing. This is what a conversation between males is like, we flit in an out of the conversation not always present. Hence this week’s topic is something that keeps us all focused. Allows us to catch up and spend our time wisely doing two things at once. We know shock horror! Men can do two things at once! When we really want to yes we can do multiple things at once without even thinking about it.

The late 80’s and early 90’s saw the beginning of trend that would dominate the home entertainment industry for years to come. No longer did you have to go to the Arcade to play your favourite machines they were now all available to play on your own console hooked up to the television in the safety of your own living room. It was around this time that obesity and the links to discovering the colonels eleven secret herbs and spices started to also began to grow. The video game console had emerged and those lucky enough to be able to afford one would slowly become fans of some of the biggest cult heroes of our generation.

As technology advanced so did consoles and along with these advancements over time came the ability to interact with people all around the globe. You could be racing cars with John from Delaware, or in the trenches of Normandy with Raj from India. It is just another way of connecting people around the world. For a group of 30 something males it made it possible to jump online and play video games while catching on what has transpired through the week or month. The wonder of it all is that you can be stretched across the globe but for that hour of two as you battle your way through Mordor or reenact the landing on Omaha beach you are all in the one location.

So what is it about this that automatically makes it Geeky and frustrates wives, partners, husbands etc? That’s a question we have asked on several occasion and like comics and anything that people don’t understand or want to understand it’s all make-believe and not reality. Correct and no one is deluding themselves that it is. Ok there are a few who live in fairyland but like all things in life there is always going to be those one or two people who take things too far. Yes video games and gamers used to be associated with the geeks however more and more these days you will find what used to be nerdy, geeky and weird is becoming more and more mainstream.

In a world full of stereotypes many people have always associated gaming as something that only the loner, disenfranchised, nerds, geeks or children do. It is however a multi-million dollar industry and is attracting people from all walks of life for various different reasons to various different games. With games now becoming more and more like chapters of books people often finish a game and play it over and over again to see what they have missed whilst they wait for the next installment.

It’s not an escape from reality it’s merely a virtual interaction between people across continents, around the globe and maybe one day out into the far reaches of the galaxy. A way in which to interact and often work together in teams to complete a common goal. Some companies have even gone as far to go online and find future employees who exhibit online the qualities they are looking for in their staff. So escape from reality or a way of interacting and doing something with friends near and far? You be the judge but for the team here at A Mind of Its Own we advocate interact with friends and family via video games just as long as it doesn’t take over your real live. We don’t need hermits there is already enough cranky people in this world.

For another week it’s over and out from the team. We hope you’ve enjoyed the double dose this week and we look forward to gracing your inbox, iPad or desktop some point next week. Peace out hombres!

The Dog Days are Over…

Sorry just let me stop chewing on my bone for a second and let my paws dance across the keyboard once again in what will be the second post of my illustrious career with A Mind of Its Own. And what a career it’s been so far! I’ve been undercover on the Gold Coast in order for us to write ‘Our lawyer made us change the name of this song’ and given you an expose on my life as a Border Collie in ‘Every dog has its day’ and I am now following it up with the aptly titled The Dog Days are Over…

That’s right it’s me again the pup with the power to melt your minds. Call me Socks the wonder dog. Boy or Buddy which has been thrown around way to much lately making me start to question whether my name is Socks or Buddy. Where do I begin? It’s been a troubling couple of weeks in which my family keep reminding me that sleep doesn’t come easy and my dreams are somewhat troubled. The man of the house or human as I prefer to call him as I still have plans on taking the mantle from him, is questioning whether he should take me to see the psychiatrist or not. His google search history is interesting enough when he’s not googling “Can dogs get PTSD?”. So to once again give you an insight into my life the Googling started last weekend after an event on the local beach. It wasn’t the first time an incident had occurred along this pristine part of coastline but this one really shook me up.

Let me paint the picture for you! There I was minding my own business cruising down the beach as i do whenever the humans let me free from the leash they are so fond of keeping me on while we are out of the house. I was chomping away at the waves and chasing the stick that somehow kept flying through the air behind me. I said hi to a few of my people and stopped off for a couple of games of chase. All in all I was having a really nice morning with my humans on one of my favourite beaches. Being in a playful mood I thought I’d leave them a nice present to clean up knowing they had once again forgotten to bring along poo bags and would be forced to shamefully bury it or scoop it up with their coffee cups.

As i watched my humans stoop over in shame and begin to dig a hole in which to bury my doings deep within the earth, a wicked grin stretching across my face I notice a good looking Maltese heading my way further down the beach. She was a little older but still an attractive girl. Readying myself I got down on all fours and waited for her to come closer and closer to see if there was any interest in this young pup. Her owners seemed like a nice couple, they looked well travelled and like people who had made the most of their lives to date. No doubt they had a few grandchildren and possibly even great grandchildren. But that’s got nothing to do with the story whatsoever.

So there I am waiting to see if she’ll let me sniff her butt when out of nowhere I hear and feel the thump, thump, thump of sand behind me. Glancing over my shoulder I see a blur heading straight for me like a bullet from a gun. Like the bus company that transports people around Australia and with the same amount of force, a young greyhound slammed into me. Sorry for the swearing but if humans could understand the varying pitches of my bark what they would have got is “Oh fuck!”. I immediately went to into flight or fight mode. Little good it did me as I rolled on my back trying to play dead. Wanting to take flight I freaked out at this rather rough attempt to play and cried out for my humans to help me!

I’m all for rough housing and god knows my brother Banjo cops it from me when we catch up but this was next level. My eyes darted around for his humans, nowhere to be seen. As he flipped me around and continued his frenzied attempts to play, I scurried off to use my humans as a shield. In his moment of delight pinning me to the ground, my new unwanted friend saw my potential girlfriend approaching. All of a sudden the weight pinning me against the cool sand was gone. I was on my feet again, forcing air back into my lungs as quick as I could.

A bark of warning escaped my mouth as I watched it all unfold before me in slow motion. My tormentor had now become hers as he chased her closer and closer towards the waters edge. Looking on in fright I watched as she backed further and further into the water. Waves crashed down around her at times looking like they were swallowing her whole. Humans ran in from all directions. I saw my human crash through the waves thinking he was David Hasselhoff coming to the rescue of some big boob blonde on Baywatch.

Getting a hold of the Greyhound in what became a wrestle, he held on tight like a bull rider in a rodeo as the Greyhound continued his attempts to play with the petrified Maltese. A group of onlookers had now gathered at the shoreline as the poor old lady waded into the knee high water and pulled my frightened, soaked, friend to safety and hugged her in great relief that she was ok. Scared but ok. Ambling down the beach like he had all the time in the world came a little angry man who despite my human’s attempts to be nice and de-escalate the situation was quite rude and asked and I quote “Does no one on this beach have a fucking brain?” again sorry for the swearing but it was a direct quote and couldn’t be avoided.

Much to the shock of everyone now standing around the arrogant, angry, little man didn’t apologise to the elderly couple or anyone else who’s dogs had been terrorised by his playful Greyhound that should have been on a leash as he couldn’t be controlled through simple voice or whistle commands. Storming off back down the beach I let another little bark fly at his back, that I won’t translate for you as I shouldn’t know that language at my age. I ran over and licked my human to make sure he was ok. Still horrified by my first encounter with an over zealous potential friend I sat there accepting pats and giving my humans the occasional lick to let them know they were loved.

I still see the fear in her eyes as she ran attempted to get away from the Greyhound, my fear paralysing me and my dreams haunted by big dogs chasing me. I yelp out little barks in my sleep that are no longer cute and more concerning to my human who is obsessed with finding a solution to all problems on Google. I think they’ve brainwashed him that they can do anything almost like Elon Musk has convinced himself that he’s not an arrogant dreamer who thinks he’s better than everyone else.

So humans be warned! If you fall into either category below I suggest you stay off my beach! If you are an angry human that doesn’t understand why people are getting upset when your dog is over playful and rough with other dogs and thereby terrorising them or a runner who gets angry when we (Dogs) chase after you pretty please stay away from the part of the beach where we are allowed to roam free without a leash to do our own thing! You humans have a whole coastline where you can do your thing. We dogs are given a tiny bit of space on the beach where we can be off the leash to run and play with each other.

We don’t set out to cause harm or annoy you, we are simply just living up to being man or woman’s best friend. Wanting to be around you and play is what we do. We are your constant, most loyal companions so please look after us. So from me I’ll say thanks to all the responsible humans who look after us. Enjoy your week and be kind to the beach and your four legged friends. From the team at a mind of its own, go with peace and thanks for reading yet another installment of the best blog on the Northern Beaches!