A while ago I found a strange coin in my wallet. It was a 20 cent piece… from New Zealand. And it told me this story…

I was minted on a cold winter’s day in 1976. And minted doesn’t mean I taste nice, although you could ask the dog that ate me, that was an adventure.

In 1982 I was used to purchase a chocolate bar worth 70 cents. It was here that I feel in love with a 50 cent piece. We were both young, probably too young, but you should’ve seen us. We were inseparable, and that wasn’t just because of the chewing gum that held us together. Unfortunately she was taken from me, but I’ll never forget her.

About ten years later I moved to Australia. It was a new adventure for me, and a risky one. I wasn’t always welcome in this country. My Kiwi heritage, which I’m very proud of, caused many Australians to reject me. But a few Aussies accepted me and I began to find my feet in Australia.

Today I feel quite at home in Australia or New Zealand. But I’ll always be a Kiwi at heart.

We are gathered here to celebrate the life of Mr Hatinger. Our local explorer, who sadly died last week exploring our community.

Throughout this service we will hear from those close to Mr Hatinger. His brother, work colleagues and friends.

But before they speak I feel that I should tell you exactly how Mr Hatinger died. You see, Mr Hatinger was murdered! He died exploring the vast land of ‘next door’, and it was there that his life was ended.

It was a classic case of assault, Mr Hatinger died in an instant. The shoe was typically hard, and a huge amount of downward pressure was applied. Mr Hatinger had no chance.

And now three days later, we must remember Mr Hatinger for the bravery he showed exploring. So it is with great sadness that I invite fellow explorer Mr Baying to share his thoughts.

Once upon a time I went to a fancy restaurant, one where the chairs are made of wood, the tables are made of timber, and they shine with an immaculate finish of varnish.

We sat down and thought, “Gosh, this is incredibly posh.” And yet we were in t-shirts, shorts and thongs.

As a menu came our way we couldn’t help but notice two things, the toast was $7.15 and the menu was made of not-so-fancy paper.

We looked at the prices and took a sip of the thankfully free water. The waiter arrived and gave us more time to decide.

Which we used to decide, that we couldn’t afford a pie. And so we ran away from the host, the rather posh place that charged seven dollars for toast.

I currently work as a writer for Football Talk NT, and I will be covering an FFA Cup match tonight. And I’m pretty knowledgeable about football, so I’m going to talk you through exactly what will happen.

The teams playing are Casuarina and Mindil Aces. On the weekend Mindil won a Sunday evening match, while Casuarina had the bye. So I expect Casuarina to be a bit off the pace in the opening stages and Mindil to go ahead early on. But Casuarina are a good side, I expect them to be level by halftime.

I expect Mindil to tire in the second half after their weekend game, which will be exploited by Casuarina. But not for long, because in the 68^th minute a helicopter will fly over Darwin Football Stadium.

This helicopter will unintentionally drop its cargo. A four metre croc that it was returning to Alligator River. The croc has been tranquilised, but its landing in the middle of the field will wake it up. It survives the fall and goes into a berserk rage.

When it fell one player was so close that he fell to the ground, he stood no chance. The croc, let’s call her Flower, quickly gobbles him up and runs toward the referee. Flower doesn’t have the pace to catch him though. And the referee abandons the match because of safety concerns.

And that is what will happen tonight.

Has this age old question ever been answered? Maybe, well, I’m going to try to answer it.

Let’s start with the single word road. Could this simple word have a greater meaning? Could it be symbolising a fork in the road of life? Or possibly a valley that must be crossed? A challenge that lies ahead? Or a piece of bitumen that cars commonly drive on?

Now, why cross things. Freedom? A better life? To try something different? Following others? To get away? This list makes it easy to see that the reason the crosser would cross the road is because they believe that the other side is more attractive.

The chicken is also part of the question. What part does she play in this question? Is she a representation for humans? Is she really a she? Can it survive the walk? Is it fully able to walk, or even fly? What is it wearing? Red socks? A blue tutu? A funny hat? Stylish sunglasses? Sweet kicks?

Why? A question that can mean so much, and so I ask why does this chicken want to cross the road? Was it because it didn’t feel welcomed on its current side? Would it be welcomed on the other side? Did it want or need to escape? What did the other side offer that this side couldn’t? Was there an attractive rooster on the other side?

What do you think? Well, why don’t I just tell you? With all that I’ve told you it’s simple to see why the chicken crossed the road… The chicken crossed the road because it was a robot chicken controlled by a controller that had fallen on the ground and was being eaten by a crocodile.

Three ways to kill a dead leaf…

Have you ever been outside and seen a leaf on the ground? Perhaps you decided to pick that leaf up, here are three ways you can now kill it.

Number One: Dismemberment
The leaf is dead, which means that when you attempt to kill it by separating its side from its middle, the leaf will not struggle against you.

Dismemberment is probably the easiest and most common form of killing a dead leaf. However, this makes proper burial very difficult for the leaf’s family.

Number Two: Drowning
The dead leaf is at your mercy, and a creek is nearby. But it’s not enough to sit the leaf on top of the water, you have to force it under.

Drowning is very common for leaves that want to be cremated, but as it’s drowning, a dead leaf is consumed by the water and dies a miserable death.

Number Three: Light it on fire
The leaf is just sitting there, dead. And you have a magnifying glass, so let’s put a few holes in the leaf. But sooner or later you’ll just light it on fire.

Lighting leaves on fire is the way all leaves want to die once they are dead. One final hurrah and then they’re a pile of ash.

If I was a bird, I would be a peli-guin. That’s cross between a pelican, and a penguin.

I think that would be a great mix, they both eat fish from the ocean. Which means I have a constant income of food because the ocean is huge.

But how would I cover all this ocean, would I swim or fly? Well, as a peli-guin I can do both. A pelican’s wings can take me wherever I want above the ocean and when I spot my prey I can dive in and swim after it like a penguin.

While I’m in the ocean chasing a fish a shark might decide that I look like a tasty treat, which I am, but I wouldn’t want to be eaten by a shark. So I would just swim to the surface and start flying again. The shark can’t follow me, it can’t fly.

Unless it’s a sh-eagle…

Awww! Look at the cute puppy! Look at his ears! And his tail! He’s so cute! Look at his eyes! Don’t be shy, you’re acting like a cat person.

Well, I suppose this dog is kinda cute, but I’m not a dog person, or a cat person. I’m a cockroach person!

When I see a cute cockroach, which is every single cockroach, I can’t hold my excitement in! I just have to let out a really girlish scream!

And I can’t bear a dead cockroach. It’s just so sad. I can’t pick it up, so I call someone else to. And I tell them to give the dead cockroach a proper send-off.

It’s what every cockroach deserves.

It’s not often that I would ask that question, or want to ask that question. The reason is simple: I am generally considered to be a grown man. I don’t ask if I can go to bed, if I’m tired, I just go to bed.

So why am I wanting to ask this question now?

Even though I may be a rather handsome and dashing gentleman, I am not generally considered beautiful. Therefore I need my beauty sleep!

I also need rest. After a full day of being the handsomely dashing gentleman that I am, I am exhausted. So I need to rest my mind, body and soul so I can do it all again.

Night is generally boring. There is nothing on television, the radio only plays boring music from before my time and all other people seem to be asleep. So you can poke them! And apply shaving cream to their face! But even that gets boring, so I don’t really need to be awake during the boring night.

It is clear to me that at this time of day I wish for the comfort of bed because I am bored. I am bored because I am tired, and don’t feel beautiful yet…

So… can I go to bed?

A friend of mine recently asked me, “Can you come to my funeral?” I quickly replied, “Sure, when is it?” We both laughed.

And then we started planning each other’s funerals. He wants an open casket, but he doesn’t want his dead body inside. He wants to hide his body somewhere else during the funeral. I think I’ll dress it up nice and sit it next to me. Anyway, when people come up to see him in the box, they’ll get a shock and freak out. Sounds fun.

At my funeral I want a mixture of classic hymns and dance music. That’ll be at the service, but afterwards I want to be cremated. I would like to recreate the scene from Star Wars Episode I. So, I’ll need someone to play Anakin, Obi-Wan, Yoda and Mace. Once that’s done I want people to toast marshmallows over my flaming corpse while everyone sings campfire songs.

But I have one last question, “Do you want me to cry at your funeral while I’ve got your dead body sitting next to me in a dress?”