Someone caught him on video and supplied us with pictures. We eventually tracked him down and he explained the story. It was penance for a misdemeanor against his mates.

Mount Gambier’s equivalent is more mysterious and at this stage of inquiries, less easy to explain.

The Border Watch received a copy of what appears to be security footage showing a man wearing red jocks walking down a supermarket aisle.

After analysing the film, it seems the man is carrying a jug of beer in one hand and a stuffed green parrot in the other.

The incident occurred about 9am on Sunday.

He appears to be in the company of another man and a woman, although they might be shoppers who just happened to be in his vicinity.

Unlike the Kalgoorlie Miner’s call for information about Mankini Man, a similar plea in the Border Watch has revealed nothing to explain the stunt.

While out for a walk tonight I resolved to write about the first thing which came into my head, and quite randomly that happened to be broccoli.

This reminded me of a Year 11 Biblical Studies class at Lourdes College in 1983 when the teacher called us individually into a room and asked us to say the first word which came into our head when he said “Jesus”.

Most of us automatically said “God”. A troubled child might have said “Judas” or “crucifixion”.

There was one nervous boy left to enter the booth and he asked us anxiously what was going on.

The teacher had said not to tell anyone the question, but he hadn’t said we couldn’t give the answer, so I told the boy to say “fish”, thinking that was about the most stupid thing he could utter.

At that time, unless it was subconscious, I had no idea about the Christian significance of the Greek fish symbol.

The teacher reported that most of us predictably had linked Jesus with God, except for a couple of troubled children and one brilliant boy.

We then heard a 10-minute lecture about the religious significance of fish, none of which I now remember; a bit like everything I didn’t learn in computer science that year when we didn’t have any computers.

Back to broccoli. I’m pretty neutral about this vegetable. I don’t mind it, but along with cauliflower it’s more edible with cheese sauce and I tend to mix it with potato before trying to swallow.

Blonde 400-metre hurdler Brittney McGlone, 18, was first to cover the 80-metre distance and collected $5000.

A few girls suffered scratches apparently, and not just from other competitors.

I fall over just thinking about trying to walk in high heels, let alone sprinting any distance. I guess it’s an acquired skill and one I’m destined never to learn.

An Australian male equivalent might be to run 400 metres in gumboots while carrying a slab of beer.

Mosley, the son of British fascist Sir Oswald Mosley, is suing News Of the World for describing his sado-masochistic sex orgy as having Nazi overtones.

He admits the fetish and the orgy, but denies the Nazi link.

I guess Mosley is sensitive about his family history, but his reputation is surely damaged regardless of his innocence or otherwise on the Nazi allegation.

I mean, he potentially clears his name of getting excited about fascist uniforms but he’s known as someone who likes sado-masochistic group romps.

Only in Britain.

Frankly though, I felt in need of some light relief. It’s been a stressful few weeks.

They say the toughest events an average person will endure are changing jobs, moving house and losing a loved one. I’m in the home straight for a trifecta.

Not that I’m seeking sympathy, many people are worse off than me. I wouldn’t like to be living in Burma right now, for example.

And I’m not sure that changing jobs is stressful for most people any more. They seem to do it so frequently.

Anyhow, I wanted a quirky story to cheer me up. The BBC is often good for one.

Sadly, their most viewed wacky yarn today was “Aussie straps in beer, not child”.

The Poms probably thought they were on a winner there, reinforcing their stereotypical view of Australians being beer-swilling yobbos.

Sadly, the story was just another example of alcohol abuse causing child abuse in remote Aboriginal communities. Much worse than that happens every day and it definitely doesn’t belong in the quirky corner.

Fortunately, Italians obsessed with women’s bottoms does. The headline “Furtive Venice snapper arrested” was much more entertaining.

A bloke was caught hanging around St Mark’s Square (pigeon capital of the world) taking candid pictures of women in short skirts.

“He has been charged with infringement of privacy. It is a cheeky crime, which could earn this 38-year-old Italian from six months to four years in jail,” the BBC reports.

When the voyeur was finally caught police recovered several DVDs which held more than 3000 images of women’s bottoms.

He confessed to police he had been filming in and around St Mark’s Square for nearly two years.

While writing, my melancholic mood has prevailed. This man is really a tragic, pathetic creature who has hit rock bottom and deserves a good kick up the arse.

Today, I found a couple of stories involving penguins and seals which would never cut it in the main news pages but somehow attract interest on the internet.

The Age reported “Little penguins get frisky feet” at Phillip Island.

“A false breeding season has begun in Phillip Island Nature Park, with frisky penguins uncharacteristically courting and mating months before breeding usually occurs,” the paper reported.

The unseasonal sexual activity was attributed to an improvement in the birds’ nutritional state and changing hormone levels.

Fair enough, the penguins get randy when they’re well fed, but is it newsworthy? Readers seem to think so.

And thanks to a new blog The Inquisitr I learned that “Sex pest seal tries to make love to a king penguin” was making web news at London’s Daily Mail.

“The 16 stone seal first subdued the two-and-a-half stone penguin by lying on it. The penguin flapped its flippers and attempted to stand and escape – but to no avail,” the Mail reported.

“The seal then alternated between resting on the penguin, and thrusting its pelvis, trying to insert itself, unsuccessfully.”

While frisky penguins arguably have a cute and fuzzy factor the same can’t be said for a seal rapist.

Although scientists described the incident as rare, I question the need to publish this type of information and the length of the report, including blurry photos of the attack.

Only one reader had been motivated to comment last time I looked. Kevin from Lincoln insightfully said: “Extinction is a distinct possibility if this behaviour becomes prevalent amongst seals.”

This one isn’t strictly related to the Miner, but I should be able to adapt it for the book somehow.

Shortly after I arrived at the paper I noticed a magazine article pasted to the outside of my office window facing the sub-editors.

It was a story about a man who died at his desk and served as a warning to all of us: don’t be a slave to the office.

The article was eventually taken down, but it springs back into my mind occasionally. So tonight I went searching for it on the internet:

Bosses of a publishing firm are trying to work out why no-one noticed that one of their employees had been sitting dead at his desk for FIVE DAYS before anyone asked if he was feeling okay.

George Turklebaum, 51, who had been employed as a proof-reader at a New York firm for 30 years, had a heart attack in the open-plan office he shared with 23 other workers.

He quietly passed away on Monday, but nobody noticed until Saturday morning when an office cleaner asked why he was still working during the weekend.

His boss Elliot Wachiaski said: “George was always the first guy in each morning and the last to leave at night so no-one found it unusual that he was in the same position all that time and didn’t say anything. He was always absorbed in his work and kept much to himself.”

A post mortem examination revealed that he had been dead for five days after suffering a coronary. Ironically, George was proof-reading manuscripts of medical textbooks when he died.

That story appears on Snopes.com under the headline “Working stiff” and apparently it’s an urban legend.

Searching for it though, I found a story which does appear to be true from Finland, courtesy the BBC:

A tax office official in Finland who died at his desk was not found by his colleagues for two days. The man in his 60s died last Tuesday while checking tax returns, but no-one realised he was dead until Thursday.

The head of personnel at the office in the Finnish capital, Helsinki, said the man’s closest colleagues had been out at meetings when he died. He said everyone at the tax office was feeling dreadful – and procedures would have to be reviewed.

An anonymous government official told BBC News Online the man had been working in his own office with the door closed. “People thought he wanted to work in peace and no-one disturbed him,” the official said.

He was found only when a friend called to have lunch with him.

Whether fact or fiction, next time you see a work colleague snoozing at their desk, give them a nudge.

I had never heard of bog snorkelling until yesterday, but apparently it’s quite big in Wales.

The “sport” involves competitors completing two consecutive lengths of a 60-yard water filled trench cut through a peat bog, in the shortest time possible.

Competitors must wear snorkels and flippers, and complete the course without using conventional swimming strokes, relying on flipper power alone.

Wet suits are not compulsory, but are usually worn.

Julia Galvin, from Ireland, told us she also participates in wife carrying, which brought her to Australia for recent championships.

I thought our headline “Muck of the Irish” was rather clever, but the Townsville Bulletin beat us to it.

Julia made a great comment to us: “A lot of people tell me I’m crazy.

“I tell them I’m not crazy, I’m just surrounded by terribly dull people.”

Indeed!

The remains, which bear the hallmarks of having been hung, drawn and quartered, are thought to be those of Sir Hugh Despenser the Younger, who was executed as a traitor in 1326.

Sir Hugh was a favorite of Edward, who some say was murdered and others say was exiled to Germany.

After Edward vacated the thrown his wife Isabella and her lover Roger Mortimer governed until Edward and Isabella’s son Edward III seized power.

They really knew how to dish out punishment in the Middle Ages.

The unfortunate Sir Hugh was hanged and, while conscious, was castrated, disembowelled and then quartered before his head was displayed on London Bridge.

That’s one way to deal with your political opponents, I suppose. Sounds similar to Labor Party factional dealings.