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As one plumber interviewed about the flushable wipes said: "Nuclear waste is biodegradable too, given enough time." Peter Calder looks at the issues.
It makes me bloody angry, because my daughter has watched that average house price figure climb, all the while wondering whether her dream is evaporating before her eyes, writes Peter Calder.
Snooker got a new world champion last week. Stuart Bingham, at 38 the oldest champion since 1978, became one of those overnight successes who are 20 years in the making.
It would take a hard heart not to feel some degree of sympathy for the restaurant owners who have come out swinging against anonymous reviews and the websites that carry them.
My first experience of getting behind the wheel of a left-hand-drive car was a thrilling one, writes Peter Calder.
'Time to get a weedeater through here, I reckon," I said to Roscoe Webb, as I gazed across the expanse of waist-high weeds threatening to choke the old headstones at Waikumete Cemetery.
Check Ditch Keeling's voicemail announcement. "I'm in the middle of killing something right now," it says. "Leave a message and I'll get back to you just as soon as it's dead.
Had I ever played croquet, he asked. "Maaate!" I thought, though I didn't have the nerve to say it out loud because I knew what he'd say next.
Arthur Taylor, whose name never appears in the media without the words "career criminal" shackled to the front of it, has been banged up since 2005 in the maximum security wing of Auckland Prison at Paremoremo.
The country around Clevedon, southeast of Auckland, is parched and brown. Hawks circle slowly in the blue sky and even at 10am, the sun is like a hammer blow. The occasional "Road May Flood" sign seems like a grim joke.
She was just 17. School had just finished. Summer seemed to stretch on forever.