I’ve been away.
That’s my excuse for not posting in a while. I was in Wellington and this blog is located in Auckland.
If you buy that excuse, then, well, I’ve got an old cannon from North Head to sell you.
This one.
The story of this particular cannon is interesting because it is the only gun from North Head ever involved in a fatality, and that fatality is the reason why it was moved from the traffic island on Broadway; a drunk driver careened into it and a fast car hitting an rather inflexible, solid iron, cannon, and this means death ((Of course, it doesn’t really mean “Death” at all, although it might signify it or some po-mo claptrappy thing like that.)).
So, the death cannon, as I like to call it, lies hidden away where no one case see it. I hope Garth McVicar has been told; we can’t just have these death cannons on display for all the public to see and be threatened by them. Lock up the cannon, I say.
Or move it back to North Head.
These are the only two options ((Of course, they aren’t the only two options really.)).
Message ends.