If you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen.

A couple of beneficiaries discovered that this week, when they ventured into the inferno that is Paula Bennett's Spit Roast & Grill House.
The trouble with putting out half a story in the political arena is there's always someone else ready to fill in the gaps and make a meal out of one whiff of concealment. The Minister not only found the filling for the DPB pie, she fully baked it on high heat.
Now the beneficiaries are complaining about the rest of their details being made public.
It's a case of ‘out of the frying pan into the fire.' You can't run around bleating half the story and expect the rest not to come out eventually.
The public is generally appalled at the level of support some beneficiaries receive and still complain about. Clearly, in some cases, it's more than a lot of people get from working in real jobs all week.

Make a killing in bountiful bay
Meanwhile, it's been a week of communing with the environment. Of bathing in the zen-like euphoria as the dappled winter sunlight dances across the leafy carpet of the forest floor. Being at one with nature - and then killing it.
There's nothing quite like an expedition fishing or hunting to really appreciate the bountiful bay we live in.
To get a real appreciation of living things you sometimes need to do more than just marvel at Mother Nature's intricate and fascinating design principles. Occasionally you need to blast them from the sky or haul them, cackling like a possessed university lecturer, on board a boat – and peel the scales or feathers from their quivering flesh and eat them.
Much of this communing with nature, with the sudden death option (for the nature) is done with a group of like-minded, nature-loving-and-eating males. Roaming in packs is how the scientists describe it. Although I'm pretty sure the packs are supposed to roam the prairies, gliding svelte-like through the forests barefoot – not yahoo around in No.1 the Strand's Mazda Bongo van. Often the pack loads essentials into the Bongo – guns, refreshments, dogs, dog refreshments, a selection of pack-mentality CDs – and enough warm clothing to insulate an entire family of anorexic Eskimos.

Where to kill
The latest destination: A Bay of Plenty private forest.
The quarry: Unsuspecting clay targets.
Now, some of you are probably wondering: Is it safe to combine a group of bloodthirsty males, their bloodthirsty hounds, pack mentality bloodthirsty rock tunes and refreshments together in a clay hunting expedition?
Well, rest assured it is safe. Unless you're in the habit of roaming the forests disguised as a small, fluorescent orange pottery disc, that is. Anyone who is prone to dress like that should refrain from flying through the air, birdlike and especially, don't call out ‘pull' or ‘bird'.
If you must indulge in that sort of behaviour, we advise zig zagging, especially if you see a Mazda Bongo parked nearby.
There's a certain technique to hunting clay targets.
For starters, you have to think like a clay dish before you can successfully find your prey. Thinking like a jug comes naturally to many of my friends. Knowing the habitat is important. And a detailed knowledge of their life cycle is also vital.

When to kill
Once in the forest, one of the team quickly picked up the track of a group of clays. Using skills passed down through the generations of his clay-tracking ancestors, Will explained the clays nest together, usually in a stack, one on top of the other. And just as a group of antelopes is called a ‘herd' and a group of birds is called a ‘flock', a collection of clays is known as a ‘box'.
Will decided to liberate the box of clays.
We gave them a good head start. About 2.25 seconds seemed right.
Pack etiquette amongst the blokes means they instinctively take turns at shooting.
One of the pack, seeming reluctant to fire, was asked why.
'I was waiting for a big one.”
Will patiently explained they're all the same size. That's nature's way of allowing them to stack so effectively.
When it came my turn, I tried to remember the shooting tip my coach Ben had instilled. 'Don't fold your trouser legs into your socks, it doesn't look cool.”
That sage advice paid off and I not only hit a few clays, but looked pretty dapper doing it.

How to cook the kill
Before long we had a good haul of dead ones and a discussion followed on the best methods of preparation and cooking. Done right, they are tasty and nutritious but get it wrong, and you might as well be eating your boots.
My preferred option is au naturale… a French phrase meaning 'we don't really have any idea, so eat them raw.” There is a very precise method: Set out paper plates and arrange the clay pieces around in a pleasing manner. Apply Smoked Hickory sauce and leave to stand while you open and partake of a West Indies amber rum; while soaking up the ambience of the bush surroundings and the wafting aroma of cordite. After a few minutes, remove the clay fragments from the dish and eat the plate.
Thanks to my mates for a great day out, especially Tony for organising it all, the superb catering, driving and navigation. And to Kim Kenny at Equine Estate Sporting Clays.
Stay tuned for more boys' day out adventures.
Coming soon: Filleting chocolate fish; How to hunt mallows in a marsh; and Fly fishing – how do they make hooks small enough?