Now that's what I call a storm

What some media outlets are calling Melbourne's worst storm in 40 years hit the city yesterday afternoon. I was sitting at my computer when I heard what I thought was a bottle being smashed in the car park outside. Then another. I looked out and couldn't see anything, or anyone. Then there was another 'smash' but this time I saw what was causing it - hail. Huge hailstones falling sporadically on my neighbour's corrugated iron roof.

I went out to look at the sky: behind fast-moving purple and grey clouds the sky was an eerie green. It was quite spectacular.

Within minutes hail was falling constantly and heavily. Here in Fitzroy the hailstones were about the size of a 20-cent piece, but elsewhere, further north and east, they were the size of golfballs and even tennis balls. Then came the rain. An absolute deluge.

Here are some photos that give an indication of the severity and intensity of the storm.

The flooded corner of Elizabeth & Little Collins Street -
what looks like foam is hail floating on the water.

Flemington Racecourse covered in hail.

Also at Flemington: after the hail, the rain.

Flooding at the corner of Market and Flinders Street

Proof at last!

Although I didn't really need convincing, today's mail has provided the clinching piece of evidence confirming my belief that the world has definitely gone mad. Nothing too dramatic, I should point out: no religious tracts promising eternal life through cloning (hi Rael*) or eternal hellfire (of course I'm going to hell: I'm a godless sodomite - duh!). Not even a severed finger or a gift-wrapped dog turd.

No, just a letter. Specifically, an invitation from Who's Who in Australia ("Australia's famous biographical reference title," it burbles, with all the charm of a stagnant brook. "Packed with difficult-to-find biographical details about Australia’s most high profile and inspiring people.") to submit my details for a listing in their next edition.

To quote Groucho Marx, "I don't care to belong to a club that accepts people like me as members".

[Exit stage right, laughing wildly.]


* Don't you just love a prophet whose website describes him as "Singer/Songwriter, Racing-car Driver, Messenger of Elohim"?)