One of the very funniest things I ever heard was this guy on a business phone call suddenly yelping:
"Well f*ck me with a rubber chicken!"
And it got me thinking that while there is nothing inherently amusing about the words "rubber" and "chicken", put them both together & it's a different story.
And so a few days after that phone call... a guy I worked with at the time sent the whole office an electronic copy of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Just for our interest & edification.
THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY proclaims THIS UNIVERSAL DECLARATION OF RUBBER CHICKEN RIGHTS as a common standard of achievement for all Rubber Chickens and all nations, to the end that every individual and every organ of society, keeping this Declaration constantly in mind, shall strive by teaching and education to promote respect for these rights and freedoms and by progressive measures, national and international, to secure their universal and effective recognition and observance, both among the Rubber Chickens of Member States themselves and among the Rubber Chickens of territories under their jurisdiction.
Article 1.
All Rubber Chickens are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of Rubber Chickenhood.
Article 2.
Every Rubber Chicken is entitled to all the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration, without distinction of any kind, such as race, colour, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status. Furthermore, no distinction shall be made on the basis of the political, jurisdictional or international status of the country or territory to which a Rubber Chicken belongs, whether it be independent, trust, non-self-governing or under any other limitation of sovereignty.
Article 3.
Every Rubber Chicken has the right to life, liberty and security of Rubber Chicken.
Article 4.
No Rubber Chicken shall be held in slavery or servitude; slavery and the slave trade shall be prohibited in all their forms.
Article 5.
No Rubber Chicken shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, in-rubber chicken or degrading treatment or punishment.
Article 6.
Every Rubber Chicken has the right to recognition everywhere as a Rubber Chicken before the law.
Article 7.
All are equal before the law and are entitled without any discrimination to equal protection of the law. All are entitled to equal protection against any discrimination in violation of this Declaration and against any incitement to such discrimination.
Article 8.
Every Rubber Chicken has the right to an effective remedy by the competent national tribunals for acts violating the fundamental rights granted him by the constitution or by law.
Article 9.
No Rubber Chicken shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest, detention or exile.
Article 10.
Every Rubber Chicken is entitled in full equality to a fair and public hearing by an independent and impartial tribunal, in the determination of his rights and obligations and of any criminal charge against him.
Article 11.
(1) Every Rubber Chicken charged with a penal offence has the right to be presumed innocent until proved guilty according to law in a public trial at which he has had all the guarantees necessary for his defence.
(2) No Rubber Chicken shall be held guilty of any penal offence on account of any act or omission which did not constitute a penal offence, under national or international law, at the time when it was committed Nor shall a heavier penalty be imposed than the one that was applicable at the time the penal offence was committed.
Article 12.
No Rubber Chicken shall be subjected to arbitrary interference with his privacy, brood, home or correspondence, nor to attacks upon his honour and reputation Every Rubber Chicken has the right to the protection of the law against such interference or attacks.
Article 13.
(1) Every Rubber Chicken has the right to freedom of movement and residence within the borders of each state.
(2) Every Rubber Chicken has the right to leave any country, including his own, and to return to his country.
Article 14.
(1) Every Rubber Chicken has the right to seek and to enjoy in other countries asylum from persecution.
(2) This right may not be invoked in the case of prosecutions genuinely arising from non-political crimes or from acts contrary to the purposes and principles of the United Nations.
Article 15.
(1) Every Rubber Chicken has the right to a nationality.
(2) No Rubber Chicken shall be arbitrarily deprived of his nationality nor denied the right to change his nationality.
Article 16.
(1) Rubber Chickens of full age, without any limitation due to race, nationality or religion, have the right to marry and to found a brood. They are entitled to equal rights as to marriage, during marriage and at its dissolution.
(2) Marriage shall be entered into only with the free and full consent of the intending spouses.
(3) The brood is the natural and fundamental group unit of society and is entitled to protection by society and the State.
Article 17.
(1) Every Rubber Chicken has the right to own property alone as well as in association with others.
(2) No Rubber Chicken shall be arbitrarily deprived of his property.
Article 18.
Every Rubber Chicken has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance.
Article 19.
EveryRubber Chicken has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers.
Article 20.
(1) Every Rubber Chicken has the right to freedom of peaceful assembly and association.
(2) No Rubber Chicken may be compelled to belong to an association.
Article 21.
(1) EveryRubber Chicken has the right to take part in the government of his country, directly or through freely chosen representatives.
(2) Every Rubber Chicken has the right to equal access to public service in his country.
(3) The will of the Rubber Chicken shall be the basis of the authority of government; this shall be expressed in periodic and genuine elections which shall be by universal and equal suffrage and shall be held by secret vote or by equivalent free voting procedures.
Article 22.
Every Rubber Chicken, as a member of society, has the right to social security and is entitled to realization, through national effort and international co-operation and in accordance with the organization and resources of each State, of the economic, social and cultural rights indispensable for his dignity and the free development of his Rubber Chickenality.
Article 23.
(1) Every Rubber Chicken has the right to work, to free choice of employment, to just and favourable conditions of work and to protection against unemployment.
(2) Every Rubber Chicken, without any discrimination, has the right to equal pay for equal work.
(3) Every Rubber Chicken who works has the right to just and favourable remuneration ensuring for himself and his brood an existence worthy of Rubber Chicken dignity, and supplemented, if necessary, by other means of social protection.
(4) Every Rubber Chicken has the right to form and to join trade unions for the protection of his interests.
Article 24.
Every Rubber Chicken has the right to rest and leisure, including reasonable limitation of working hours and periodic holidays with pay.
Article 25.
(1) Every Rubber Chicken has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his brood, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control.
(2) Rubber Chicken hood and rubber chick-hood are entitled to special care and assistance. All rubber chicks, whether born in or out of wedlock, shall enjoy the same social protection.
Article 26.
(1) Every Rubber Chicken has the right to education. Education shall be free, at least in the elementary and fundamental stages. Elementary education shall be compulsory. Technical and professional education shall be made generally available and higher education shall be equally accessible to all on the basis of merit.
(2) Education shall be directed to the full development of the Rubber Chicken personality and to the strengthening of respect for Rubber Chicken rights and fundamental freedoms. It shall promote understanding, tolerance and friendship among all nations, racial or religious groups, and shall further the activities of the United Nations for the maintenance of peace.
(3) Rubber Chickens have a prior right to choose the kind of education that shall be given to their chicks.
Article 27.
(1) Every Rubber Chicken has the right freely to participate in the cultural life of the community, to enjoy the arts and to share in scientific advancement and its benefits.
(2) Every Rubber Chicken has the right to the protection of the moral and material interests resulting from any scientific, literary or artistic production of which he is the author.
Article 28.
Every Rubber Chicken is entitled to a social and international order in which the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration can be fully realized.
Article 29.
(1) Every Rubber Chicken has duties to the community in which alone the free and full development of his Rubber Chickenality is possible.
(2) In the exercise of his rights and freedoms, everyone shall be subject only to such limitations as are determined by law solely for the purpose of securing due recognition and respect for the rights and freedoms of others and of meeting the just requirements of morality, public order and the general welfare in a democratic society.
(3) These rights and freedoms may in no case be exercised contrary to the purposes and principles of the United Nations.
Article 30.
Nothing in this Declaration may be interpreted as implying for any State, group or Rubber Chicken any right to engage in any activity or to perform any act aimed at the destruction of any of the rights and freedoms set forth herein.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
The Universal Declaration of Rubber Chicken Rights
Monday, August 22, 2005
Don Vino regarded Tom Hagen with poorly veiled displeasure...
"An offer they can't refuse? Who do these fucks think they are? Have you informed our friends in Las Vegas & Texas?"
"What's it called again?" Asked the Don.
"SunnyO, or something. A no horse town halfway between nowhere & nowhere. What's worse, there's only one patch of land big enough to host the operation & these fucks are refusing to sell."
"What are our options?"
"Las Vegas say they know of a local contact who might be usefully engaged. He's done work for Halliburton's in the Middle East in the past. Ex-special forces guy turned lay preacher. He's been a bit flakey since he copped a load of shrapnel & had a steel plate fitted in his head some years back, and has a fondness for chemical stimulation. But Vegas say when he's good he's very good. When he's bad, he's comatose."
"Is Goldstein not available?"
"He's already over committed with our banking friends."
The Don harrumphed "Well go and see this Preacherman. Have him make contact with these SunnyO people & gain their trust. If he succeeds, tell him the Datura plant growing in the front garden is his. We can't afford to let Texas & Las Vegas down on this one. And let Washington know we may need to borrow some Navy Seals if this plan doesn't work. We will get this land, and at our price, not theirs. And lastly, get on the phone to Don Brashi & explain the situation, maybe when he's running the place he can have these fucks gone by lunchtime."
He held up his ring festooned hand for Hagen to kiss, as a sign their meeting was over.
Netball Update: Crushed 51-20 (or something like that).
Played possibly the best team in the region, they've been together for years, and pretty much all of them are in the Northern Suburbs rep team.
M's girls played really well actually (with one exception who mournfully waved at the ball now & then from a distance). The other team were in another league though.
M's team played so well in the first term, that I had the notion that they could probably beat her rep team in a game.
I have changed my mind, because on Sunday, M's rep team beat the Northern Suburbs team that pretty much crushed her school team on Sunday. Only by one point, but still...
Not only did they win that game, but they won the entire tournament & all came away with little trophies & certificates..
Excellent final tournament, they had considered flagging it away at one stage...
Friday, August 19, 2005
It Ain't Over Till It's Over. How it went down...
He got no offers.
About a year ago, Mrs Llew & I had our Jimi Hendrix Collection valued. It was conservatively estimated as being worth $500k as a set, but if broken down to individual items worth approximately $1.5m. Cool! We'll keep that for our retirement, I thought.
About 2 weeks ago, I got a call from a Mr Tom Hagen, who told me he had a "substantial buyer" interested in my collection. And asking "Is it for sale?"
I told Mr Hagen that no, it's not for sale... but that everything has its price.
I spoke to my accountant & discussed the possibilities.
The next day the accountant rang me "It's a small world, but one of my other clients, Don Vino Minestrone, has called to discuss the possible purchase of a Jimi Hendrix Memorabilia Collection... I told him I have to bow out due to a conflict of interest."
Don Vino Ministrone... I knew that name. Later that day I ran into Mr Samfield, a financial advisor on the dog walk circuit. "Say Sam" I asked, "Do you know a Don Vino Minestrone?"
"Indeed I do, he's one of my clients. A straight up guy..." and he told me all about him.
The next day, Mr Hagen called back to say he had an exciting offer from his substantial associate, and asked could he come & see me this weekend. He also let slip that his buyer was putting an offer on the neighbour's Janis Joplin Collection also.
I explained that we wouldn't be at SunnyO this weekend, but we would be the following. He said he not only had the offer, but also some options that were very beneficial to us, so could he meet me sooner? I would also need to sign a contract with Mr Hagen BEFORE the offer could be tabled. I agreed to an appointment at the Wellingtonista Towers the next day at noon.
Having determined in our own minds, that no way were we parting with the collection for less than $1.2m, or possibly $1m if able to keep the guitar... both these amounts somewhat unlikely, but hey, we're not actually on the market! Mrs Llew & I waited for Mr Hagen to turn up.
On his arrival, I made it clear that I was not happy about having to sign a contract before an offer was made, and also that any commission owing to Mr Hagen would be paid by the purchasor. Mr Hagen was a little over anxious & presented his offer regardless.
$400k, with a lot of conditions attached, including the right for his restoration team to have access to the collection before settlement. And also an option for us to purchase the guitar back from him after restoration. In addition, it seems that the offer for the Janis Joplin Collection is conditional on him being also able to obtain the Jimi Hendrix (which I'd kind of figured out already - due to some things the curmudgeonly old fuck next door told me 2 years ago...).
I said "Is your buyer Don Vino Minestrone?" Mr Hagen made a zipping motion across his mouth. "it's just that", I continued "my accountant called me yesterday to tell me Don Minestrone was interested, and so, if it's not him, we have two substantial buyers interested."
There was a long pause, before Mr Hagen said "It's him".
So I told him, "Anyway, this offer is not what I'd call exciting, and nor are the options what I'd call beneficial. He's not even halfway there. This is not about a fair market price, since we're not on the market, this is about a price that would make us part with our beloved collection."
"Would you like to counter-sign the offer?"
"Um... no, we won't countersign, if Don Minestrone really wants this, tell him he'll have to make us an offer we can't refuse. But this isn't that offer."
As a sweetener however, since we're very considerate people, I did tell Mr Hagen that in the unlikely event that we should sell, we'll be looking for a replacement collection. Perhaps something more modest though, like Howard Morrison Memorabilia.
And Mr Hagen left, surprised I think, at how well informed & connected we appeared to be, leaving me with a very nice Minestrone Enterprises ball point pen.
And that we figured, was that. Maybe they'll come back to us, but we've put our visions of sudden wealth back on the shelf, along with a bunch of planned purchases, investments & overseas trips... & sat back & listened to "all along the watchtower" with pleasure.
But then today, Mrs Llew ran into her old hairdresser (I am not making any of this up), who squealed with excitement & said "It's a small world! I was having dinner last night with our next door neighbours, Mr & Mrs Don Minestrone... there are some things I need to tell you.... listen carefully, I shall say this only wence..."
David Lange - Wikiquote
Hat-tip to Russell Brown
David Lange - Wikiquote
I read another in a comment on DPF's site the other day:
"My favourite Lange quip is unpublished, I think. At a meeting in the 1980s involving senior politicians and a number of public servants, one of the MPs present was well known for his taste for the decorous highlife but also the subject of base gossip. He told the meeting that he wished to adjust the itinerary for his forthcoming British visit so he would have the chance to hear a concert by the conductor Sir Neville Marriner. Lange, chairing the meeting, asked his officials if it was possible and they said yes. About to briskly move on to the next agenda item, Lange paused and turned to the senior politician. "Tell me again, --------, the name of the sailor you're hoping to call on in London?" Whole room collapsed in failed attempts to stifle laughter."
The Big One still eludes me...
Sheesh... it pains me that my eternal search for The Blog Post, the ultimate, short piece that gains international attention, kudos, awards, lucrative job offers & groupies... still eludes me. But stay tuned.
And so once again on a Friday it falls to me to forecast my weekend's activities.
But first, a quick word about the week that has preceded...
His offer was waaaayyy off beam. So nothing to report there, although we are proud of the way we handled the non-negotiations. "Counter offer? No way, we're not actually for sale here. But by all means come back later with an offer we can't refuse."
And so regrettably (and paradoxically, joyously), we have advised the rapacious furniture salesman we met the other day that he does not need to set aside the 2.8 metre dining table & 8 leather dining chairs we looked at. I think he must be on commission, we half expected everything to be delivered outside our front door when we got home, he was so keen. And my DVD hard drive recorder has receded back into the distance...
The weekend looks like it might pretty much be spent as part of the usual netball support team, I can't help but notice that all the pockets of all my jackets seem to hold doggy-doo bags, doggy treats, and extra large fabric sticking plasters for skinned knees.
Tomorrow the team are facing what looks like their toughest opponent yet this year. A team from the Northern Suburbs, who have played together for years, something like 6 of the 7 of them are rep players... we could be in for a pasting. If so, we'll blame the umpires in traditional fashion :)
Later in the day, we have friends visiting in the afternoon, to survey the carnage that is our mid-renovation home. And other friends coming for dinner (on our old dining room table & rickety chairs).
Then on Sunday, it's gonna be more netball, possibly for most of the day. But that's the last Sunday tournament for the year! Yeehah! Next Sunday I can confidently report that we'll be sleeping in.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Computer worms turn on each other in 'botwar'
Y'know... I keep wondering why all the flashjing lights on our router even when no-one is doing anything... sometimes when the PC is turned off even...
STUFF : TECHNOLOGY - STORY : Computer worms turn on each other in 'botwar'
Redux!
Hey, we could call it the Ministry of Works!
STUFF : ELECTION 2005 - STORY : Brash unveils National plans for new infrastructure minister
Just an idea.
David Farrar: Harry Potter Book Seven
David Farrar is as prolific a blogger as you're likely to see - his posts tick over so fast that if you stay away a few days, you've missed a few dozen.
But he's got one entry posted on August 4 that just refuses to die. 175 comments & climbing, including one young chap's homage to JK Rowling in the form of Book 7, as he thinks it might/should be.
David Farrar: Harry Potter Book Seven
Bit quiet on the SunnyO front - momentous things are/maybe afoot, but it's too early to blog them. But the possibilities are driving everything else from our minds...
Quick teaser though... imagine you have something that someone rich & influential seems to want...
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Fantastic Careers - Sir Howard Morrison
Saw this piece by Steve Braunias & thought how could I resist. Especially since Steve has done all the spadework. Saves me having to research the guy.
STUFF : ENTERTAINMENT - STORY : Golden anniversary for Howard Morrison
Now I have to confess rather uncharitably, that I think Sir Howard is a bit of an arse. But I'm aware he's much loved and all that, and it would be churlish to deny the guy his success, which came at a lot of effort, dedication, and dare I say... talent.
The film is great, the soundtrack is fantastic, just the opening song, played over the credits makes you wonder just what happened to Morrison after this film was made.
It's also hugely enjoyable for some risible performances by certain actors, and cameo appearances by Lew Prime (with a fly stuck to his head), Kiri te Kanawa, the Chicks, and many more.
So well done Sir Howard. But you should have made more films like this.
Bot Gardens Playground closed
The council stated that it regretted the need to remove these trees as they were much loved, especially the magnificent specimen that grew right beside the public toilet block. In fact, I know of one local resident who on hearing the news, made a special trip to the tree the day before work began, to give it a hug, having spent many summer afternoons in its shade in her younger days..
And it is gone, just a pile of regal & immense logs lying beside its old spot. It's impossible not to get a little misty, but the council is right, these trees were getting dangerous, more than one of them has endured quite spectacular storm damage over the last year or two.
The gardeners have however, taken cuttings of these historic trees to ensure the genetic line continues, and intends to plant Norfolk pines, monkey puzzle trees & others to replace them.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Shaolin Soccer
Good family-friendly fun. With the accent on "fun".
This one's so cheesy, you could toast it between two slices of bread. But we laughed.
Steven Chow stars, directs, wrote... etc... this little pleaser about a Shaolin monk who teams up with a crippled ex football star, recruits his old "brothers" from the monastery & applies Kung Fu to soccer.
They then use their skills & powers to challenge the aptly named "Team Evil".
Extensive wire work, cheesy & cartoony CGI effects... sit back & enjoy every minute.
Las Vegas, 2004: 34th Annual Wargamers Convention, and 72nd Annual Clinical Psychologists Convention & Pharmaceutical Field Trials.
Dr Pico surveyed the casino floor with a critical eye. He was here as part of the panel for the keynote debate, Anti-depressants: Too Much of a good thing or the More the Merrier? Pico hated Vegas, but was pleased that the Pharmaceutical Field trials were to be held after the debate this year, rather then repeat the debacle that marked last year's convention. 
Mystery solved, Pico turned to leave the geeks to it, and found himself eye to eye with just about the last person he wanted to see on Earth.
"Preacherman..." he said resignedly.
"Dr Pico! What a pleasant surprise!" said the gaunt man, who was looking relaxed, wearing a powder blue jacket & sporting a trilby hat, cocked at a jaunty angle. "What brings you to Vegas?"
"The eternal dedication to solving the ills, both imagined & physiological, of my patients."
"And the post-convention drug trials?" noted the preacher archly, "I don't suppose you can get me in this year?" he added, hopefully.
"It's invitation only sorry", said Pico
"Oh well then, back to Plan A, which is to make enough money at roulette & spend the next 3 days at the Chcken Ranch."
The two men regarded each other for a few seconds. They were interrupted by an unexpectedly familiar accent,
"Hey, mate! You're that guy from Lambton Quay, aren't you?"
They turned to look at the approaching Kiwi, who Pico noted, was the tall, skinny man with the T shirt that he'd noticed earlier.
"God be with you, my son", the Preacher said, slipping back into his tried & true persona as he greeted the new comer, "You're from Wellington?"
"Yup, Fidel's the name, here with the Wargaming Convention, we've got a 3 day re-enactment of the Gallipoli Invasion, it's very exciting! There's a strong ANZAC contingent here this year. But what brings you here?"
"The Lord's work takes me many places, my son, especially those places where sin & depravity require my attention" the Preacher's eyes gleamed, and his voice rose in pitch. He gripped Fidel's shoulder. "Warfare eh?" He continued, "I know a little about that... let me know if you're evr doing the tet Offensive, I was there... in a kind of unofficial capacity of course..."
"...cool..." said Fidel, nervously.
Pico interjected, "Just fascinating... I've, uh... got to go... I uh... promised... my wife... that I'd check which way the bathwater drains down the plughole & give her a call to tell her ...uh... nice seeing you Preacher, nice to meet you Fidel".
"He's my psychologist" said the Preacher.
"..cool..." replied an uncertain Fidel... "...I've ah... got to go too... we're recreating the Battle of Roarke's Drift over dinner... uh.. with the salt & pepper shakers... and I uh... have to go practise... my uh... short range spear throwing... with ah... the toothpicks... bye!"
Stupid is as stupid does...
A few things caught my attention this weekend - and before I get onto the stupid bits, I've just reminded myself of a couple of other bits, maybe not stupid, but... oh, I dunno... judge for yourself.
Listened to a conversation in the weekend about scoring a netball game. But first a quick primer: the centre pass is taken by each team alternately. The umpires keep track (and sometimes they don't...) by whether the scores of the two teams add up to an even or odd number - one team takes its passes on odd, the other on even. Simple?
So, following a game where the umpires lost track of whose pass, and had to consult with the scorekeeper, I heard one woman say "I make sure I add the numbers up so I know if it's odd or even". Fair enough - the other woman offered helpful advice - "I just look to see if both numbers are odd, or even, or if they're not." Woooeeeeee, that's a handy time saving tip!
The first one was adamant though "I add them up just to make sure."
I kept my mouth shut & smiled politely.
2nd odd event. For reasons too long to explain, I found myself on someguy's lifestyle block in the weekend, while he threw chopped up dog meat (for his dog, not from his dog) into a stream to demonstrate how noisily & from how far, his property's eels would come for the tucker. Another gentleman present watched this with interest, then asked "Are they vegetarian?". I smiled politely, but was not expecting the expert reply, "yes."
Now onto the stupid stuff.
Another netball story: During the weekend, the coach of a local team of 10 year olds, removed her team from the court because she disagreed with an umpire's decision.
I don't know the details, but I can think of few things less sporting to do. Umpires DO make mistakes, even at test match level, but isn't it important to abide by the umpire whether right or wrong? What is that coach teaching her charges about sport? To add to the stupidity, the committee that makes the tournament rules, is now considering making every team supply a qualified umpire for every game.
This is stupid, because this is primary school sport, and very few teams at this level will have access to qualified umpires in the first place. And um... it's just not that serious!
Personally, I think they should tell the coach in question to grow up & get on with it. Build a bridge! Build a bridge! And get OVER yourself! As we chant in SunnyO.
Next stupid thing. Actually, the mother-lode.
I can't find the story online, but I'm referring to the moron who late last week, was approaching the Mt Victoria tunnel, and who objected to the way fellow motorists were not "merging like a zip", who sped ahead, then stopped his car in the tunnel, blocking one lane, hopped out & walked back to give motorists following a piece of his mind (well, they CAN split the atom after all). Several cars were forced to stop suddenly, and a truck way back in the rear, most suddenly of all, when he connected with a car in front & caused a concertina like effect of crashed & crashing cars, including the moron's who stopped in the first place. Blocking the whole tunnel for more than an hour.
Way to go. Really, I think they should name & shame both the coach of the netball team & also the merge-like-a-zip fanatic.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Friday, August 12, 2005
Oh... THOSE Asset Sales....
Titter. I didn't see it, so I'm not sure what the actual words were, but what I've read suggests it was something like that. Hopefully I'll catch that bit on a replay sometime.
Meanwhile - the retardometer:
Three Point Turn - Tale of the Tapeworm
Heh heh... the "Blandwagon..."
But anyway... Solid Energy? Who cares? Coal is a thing of the past. Coal fuelled the Industrial Revolution! Coal nowadays, will fuel lots of negative Kyoto carbon credits... I remember, many years ago, reading a report by two guys who predicted, and sold to the government of the day, that there would be a fourfold expansion in demand for coal, and the industry geared up to meet that demand. And um... demand for coal actually halved, and lots of people lost their jobs. Except for the two guys who reckoned demand would increase by a factor of four - they were made CEO & Vice CEO... Who needs coal when we have wind farms? If wind farm neighbours complain, lets start a coal mine next door to them instead...
And Landcorp farms? I don't even know what these are - bet they'd make great lifestyle blocks if they were carved up & sold to BMW driving wannabe city-farmers though...
Anyway... shortly before I left work last night, I got a call from Mrs Llew, who had just arrived home with a truckload of ingredients needed to prepare sundry repasts for 20 or so adults & children, asking if I knew of any reason why there might be a sign taped to our front door proclaiming "Contact Energy regrets that you were not at home to allow us access to reconnect your gas supply." I didn't.
So 20 or so guests, no hot water, no heating, no cooking. Shortly after I arrived home, a sheepish gas company representative who had been spoken to by Mrs Llew, visited to explian they'd done this to the whole street & a neighbouring suburb & that he'd be busy for some hours yet...
And then Wilma & I departed for our walk, without, thankfully, a von Trapp family entourage.
At the lawn, events took a pleasant turn when George, a fellow dog walker, turned up with a back pack full of shiraz & plastic glasses & announced that it was Nero, the labradoodle's birthday. And so a group of us spent the next hour or so, chinwagging & drinking. I'd left my phone at home & was unaware that my delayed absence from the scene of frantic catering was causing ructions...
Arrived home to find the worm's reaction to my extended walk was decidedly negative... but managed to keep my head down, pitch in belatedly, shoo the kids away from the Simpsons & set the video for Dr Who.
Dinner was delicious - kids ate butter chicken, adults ate blue cheese quiche (yummy). Ambience briefly disrupted by 2 of the children, a brother & sister, engaging in some quite serious fisticuffs beside the dinner table (rapid exit of the first 3 guests...). Rest of us got down to serious drinking, and veiled barbs at how some people use pets to shirk their domestic responsibilities...
Slight headache this morning....
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow....
It started to rain earlier & the near future, paradoxically, suddenly looked a little sunnier. But now it's cleared up.
The problem is, all the older kids think it's too uncool to do the dog walk, so the girls congregate in M's room, listen to music, and presumably talk about the older boys, who are gathered downstairs either playing James Bond, or Crash Bandicoot on the Playstation, or watching The Matrix, or whatever else they can find - especially the ones who don't have a TV, and only watch worthy "classic" fare on DVD on their parents Imac (these kids have a most excellent knowledge of all Alfred Hitchcock's movies, even the minor ones - I'm impressed).
So that leaves me with the toddlers & the social misfits. And it really sucks taking them for a walk. They're slow & demanding. And it gets dark so early there's always a chance I won't manage to bring all of them home again (it's a bad look).
So... let's get the weather on my side here, I want either a major rainstorm at around 5.30pm, or to really seal it, let it snow...
Dr Who Casting Call
Party Leader Debate vs Dr Who - It's gonna be a tough call.
Apparently the party leader debate is on tonight on TV3 at the same time as Dr Who is on Prime.
It's going to be a very tough decision - especially as we have Tennis Club at our place tonight & the squiddy-winks present will have to be amused by plugging them into a DVD possibly unsuitable for the their age group (they've all seen SHrek & the Incredibles already). depending on their parents. Or resurrecting the ancient Playstation for the duration.
So chances are I'm only going to have the opportunity, not to mention technology, to tape one of these shows.
So what's it going to be? Garrulous, rubber faced threats to humanity & civilisation? Or Dr Who?
Three Point Turn - the Worm Returns
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
"Young Persons' Books...
It came to my attention long before even, the Harvey Porter books (which I haven't read) were published, that there is a frequent device employed by the writers of Young Persons' books. Young Persons' books being those designed to be read by say 12-15 year olds.
That device is the (usually) boy, who at the age of 11 discovers that s/he is special in some way, be it special powers, or the subject of an important prophecy, or otherwise "chosen" in one way or another.
As evidence, I give you:
1. Harry Potter - at the age of 11, discovers he's a wizard & is sent off to wizard school.
2. The Wizard of Earthsea Trilogy - Sparrowhawk, at the age of 11, discovers he's a wizard & is sent off to wizard school (hey, what the...?)
3. The Dark Materials Trilogy - Lyra & Will at the age of (OK, one year out) 12 or so, discover they are the subjects of a major prophecy to um... either save or destroy the world, but definitely do something to organised religion. Or something.
4. The Dark is Rising sequence - Young Will, at the age of 11 (phew, back on familiar ground) discovers he's a wizard.... or close enough anyway. But just the school of hard knocks for him, and a mentor who may or may not be (but is really) Merlin.
I haven't read the Harry Potter books, I've only seen the first movie. I'll tune back in to the movies when Hermione is 18 I think. Actually, I won't. I'll just catch them by accident maybe, when they appear on the MGM channel in 20 years time.
But I've read the rest. But not when I was between the ages of 12 & 15. I read the Wizard of Earthsea books when I was in my 30s, having for a while been a fan of Ursula le Guin's poetic writing style. Thes books rock. Sparrowhawk is only a boy in the first one, and despite the similar sounding plotlines, they have nothing else in common with Mr Potter's little boy Harry. They're much darker. Sparrowhawk becomes the ArchMage in time (Dumbledore, but a lot more serious), confronts dragons & old gods, and even enters the world of the dead (and emerges again at great cost). In the last few years Le Guin has published the fourth book in the trilogy, Tehanu... and in many ways it is the best.
I highly recommend these books. I bought them for M several years ago, but she was too young to appreciate them. Now, at age 12, they've been recommended to her by her English teacher. And so she's got them on her list now...
For when she finishes the other series he recommended, which I also bought her several years ago when she was too young, the Dark is Rising sequence. I also read these in my 30s...
The Dark is Rising books by Susan Cooper are like a cross between the Narnia books (group of children encounter adventure when visiting an old man, their "Uncle Merry"), and the Pullman Dark Materials books (children are joined by young Will, who has recently discovered he is an immortal "old one" & a wizard like Uncle Merry... and is the subject of an old prophecy about the battle between the forces of Dark & Light. etc.).
M's devoured the first one Over Sea & Under Stone, and endeavoured to stay up as late as possible last night in order to read the second one The Dark is Rising, all in one sitting.
These books are cool in that they're in a slightly old fashioned jolly hockeysticks & tea on the camomile lawn fashion. I find I have to do a lot of explaining of some of the language "Plimsoles are sandshoes", "Sepulchriarly means... um... like a sepulchre..."
They also take place in real places throughout Britain. Ancient magical places, which you can visit. They feature "Old Ways", roads that have existed forever, and in some places now are proper roads travelled by cars, like the one that takes you to the stone circles at Avebury. You can travel an "Old Way", even if, unlike the real "Old Ones", you couldn't do it blindfolded. Although you do wonder about some of the tour bus drivers. There's also one in the Brecon Mountains in Wales near where we used to live.
You can visit & explore Windsor Park & search for the oak tree where Will encounters, and rouses to action, the ancient Herne the Hunter.
This is magical stuff. Here's a nice site discussing the mythology.
So... I have taken just a little time out of another really busy day to recommend any of these books to you & your 12-15 year olds. Or yourselves even. Except for Harry Potter, but I imagine you don't need my recommendation for those.
And hmm... sorry for no piccies, seem to be all copyrighted & I'm chicken...
Flickr: Photos from _rebekka
Came across this hottie while checking out Flickr's most interesting photos in the last 24 hours...
...then I went & looked at all 494 of them in one sitting... fantastic stuff. Once again, I am confronted by a photographer who makes me want to throw my own camera away, such is the futility...
Flickr: Photos from _rebekka
And did I mention she's hot?
Culture: Channel-hopping: Who’s got the remote?
Nice piece from Chris Bell at NZBC reviewing every Sky Digital channel available & rating it's viewability.
Culture: Channel-hopping: Who’s got the remote?
He also provides the reason that AMI's "Sarah" won't be appearing in our Fantastic Careers series...
"The agency message appears to be that AMI won’t actually pay out, just fix your broken stuff in a naff way and turn up uninvited at your wedding. "
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Fantastic careers - Ira Goldstein
And it irks me to report that I can find no information on the guy on the web. Although I seem to recall reading someplace that he did once have a small part on the Sopranos. Lots of info about the people who created the ad campaign though. But who cares about them. Overpaid advertising execs I imagine.
Regardless, Goldstein is one of the most recognisable faces on NZ TV, and presumably he gets flown in once a year or so to film a bunch of new ads.
Good work Goldstein.
ASB - Ira Goldstein - as seen on TV
Preview of coming attractions (maybe):
- Vince Martin
- The Speights Southern Men
- The ORIGINAL Fruju girl, who was hot, and had a spiky slightly punk harcut & pranced around in a wet swimsuit waving a big hose... not the later incarnations who looked too girl next doorey & who did not look like they could suck an orange through that hose... you get my drift...
Also... I'll take requests.
Monday, August 08, 2005
This is weird - Not in the spirit of blogging - an abuse of our Privacy !!!
Looks like someone (calling themselves "Yellow" - no other information in the profile), has recently created a blog called, ironically "Happy Days", purely to complain about Mike's Blog Policy in his new guise as "chch-changes"
Happy Days: Not in the spirit of blogging - an abuse of our Privacy !!!
So... I dunno, click on through & then complain to Yellow that he's recording all that private information about you without even a warning.
I don't know David Tennant.
Nor even if I have his name right... but it just occured to me, and I felt the need to share, that when Mr tennant's upcoming tenure as the even newer Dr Who (than Eccleston) is over, the next Dr should be portrayed by Hugh Laurie.
He's the guy who used to work with Stephen Fry. And was the mad as a hatter Prince in one of the Blackadder series. And he was Bertie Wooster.
And he's on our screens right now playing Dr House, a curmudgeonly American(!) painkiller addicted cripples house surgeon. And he's terrific. He gets all the Edmund Blackadder-like lines in this one.
Green Eggs and SPAM!: Film Review - The Station Agent
Took Bron's advice & we watched The Station Agent in the weekend.
And it's great. A very pleasant Saturday night's viewing.
Green Eggs and SPAM!: Film Review - The Station Agent
Sunday, August 07, 2005
And latest netball update - 18-37
2nd pasting in a row... however, the girls DID play better than last week. But still nowhere near what they're capable of.
The team they played were pretty good, but on a good day we could've beat them. Although possibly not by much. And who knows, they may have had a bad day too!
Anyway... hoping for a win next week, but our opponents are VERY highly regarded.
Mysteries of the gardens...
Why do you think that once a week or so, someone ties sprigs of rosemary to the side of this park bench?
Friday, August 05, 2005
Hah! That reminds me...
I've commented in the last post that I hope Wilma & I never tripped over Che Tibby & his old girlfriend when they were viewing the glow worms on that particular track.
And it reminded me of one of our perambulations through the gardens a few years ago... another pitch black night, with the stars out in force.
Wilma & I were very near where now sits the James Hector Memorial... just below the Mariri Road entrance to the gardens. We stopped & admired the amazing night sky that night.. and abruptly, the urge came across me. So I made Wilma sit & stay, unzipped my fly & rather noisily voided my bladder. Hopefully, I didn't let rip with a loud satisfied sigh afterwards. I can't remember.
No sooner had I zipped myself back up, than I heard a soft "cough" from about 5 feet behind me. Turning, and switching on my torch, I was faced by a man & a woman, sitting against the large pine tree there, frowning at me, presumably for desecrating their evening's sky watching.
Flicking the torch off, I gave them a cheery hello, and Wilma & I fled.
Um... that wasn't you was it Che?
the wellingtonista: Botanic Gardens for August
She laughed & agreed it must be pretty dark, "Not even the faint light of glow worms to show the way".
But I had to disagree, that particular path, on a dark night, is like walking through the heavens. It is astonishing. Of course, glowworms don't throw out enough light to see where you're going, and a torch is absolutely required to avoid falling down a steep bank into the surprisingly large stream (where DOES all the water in the gardens come from anyway?)
But you can stop, and turn your light off & the view is lovely. Have you seen that bit of Immortal Beloved, where Gary Oldman as Beethoven, floats in a pond in the middle of the night, gazing up at the sky, and the stars are all reflected in the water, and one of his famous tunes is playing over the soundtrack? It's magic. And so are the glowworms on a good night.
Tonight, at 7.30pm, there is a "Glowworm tour" of the Botanic Gardens. Apparently you have to book, but it is not immediately apparent how you do that. I guess follow all the links if you're keen.
Otherwise... any dark night you care to, enter the gardens from the Glen in Kelburn, take either path to your right or left (although if you go right, then take the next right up the hill), and be amazed.
the wellingtonista: Botanic Gardens for August
Man... I don't feel like doing anything today.
Despite appearances perhaps, I do not always feel like this. We had a really busy week, and a particularly busy day yesterday. We did another unit's work for them yesterday. We've been pushing back, empowering them with training so they can do it themselves, some of my troops have been bitter, resentful & argumentative (displaying great customer focus), we've pointed out the flaws in what they're doing, lobbied their managers and General Managers, wailed about how this is pointless & will cause us more work down the track...
Then the day before yesterday I had an epiphany, and gathered the team together & sympathised with their blood pressure levels and said "Even though this is stupid, and not our job, and we're going to have to redo it next month... we've spent 3 weeks arguing about it & haven't convinced them... it'd have been a lot less work & will be if we just do it & let them come to the same conclusion themselves."
And everyone agreed & we did it. And we had a bit of fun doing it. And then the unit in question started emailing me back & telling me they'd tried it themselves (which I had suggested, but really considered was a "Tui" likelihood) & pretty much got the same results as us (some errors turned up on both sides - mostly because we & they had a very short window of time & quality checking was scant, so it was a learning experience for all of us).
And so today I feel I've had it for the week now...
BTW: We watched Solaris the other night. Um... what the fuck? I mean, I remember trying to watch the original Russian version (I've always found Tarkovsky a bit dense - with the possible exception of the Mirror), and the Soderbergh/Clooney version is about an hour shorter, but all the same... what the fuck? Quick poll also... is Natascha McElhone hot or haggard?
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Fantastic careers # 2 - Miss Lucy!!
Anyway. Have at it. Miss Lucy/Marvey/Tanya. Would write more, but personally find the original ad she appeared in lame... the rest are OK, although they could probably get her a new choreographer... and I think the "Where in the World is Miss Lucy" gig at the rugby games could feature a lot more shots of Miss Lucy actually someplace, rather than the stock footage of places they trot out.
Still, good gig, free travel (presumably) large swimsuit budget.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Live Blogging Over & Out...
We're being evacuated. Colleagues with rucksacks & of possibly ethnic appearance are busy advising each other not to run away from police if approached.
Possibly good advice..
Live Blogging Speculation
What happens if someone leaves a suspicious briefcase in a bag shop?
OK. We're getting organised now to assemble on the roof & sing "Nearer my God to Thee".
I don't think it helps at all, but increases the chances of being portrayed in a movie of your life by Leonardo de Caprio or Kate Winslett.
Son of Live Blogging!
Nothing much happening. Sirens in the distance... buses diverted. MacDonalds evacuated.
Lots of people peering out of high rise windows.
More Live Blogging!
Rumour has it that someone has left a suspicious briefcase in the Telecom shop downstairs...
More than likely, someone's lunch is about to get toasted, but I suppose you can't be too careful.
Man, the silence is quite freaky...
Live Blogging Update!
Have to consider the worst case... so maybe my last blog for a while as I should probably now go on the run. International fugitive etc, from the authorities.
Should I or any of my IMF team be caught or killed... the secretary will disavow any knowledge of our actions.
Unless, I can make the one-armed man story stick. I mean... it worked for the other guy.
Fingers crossed! I have to head for the roof top now. I'm not sure why that should afford safe egress... but that's what they do on TV. Etc. So who am I to argue.
Live Blogging! The police have cordoned the building off.
Yes! We look out the window at the moment & the entire block which we are smack bang in the middle of is cordoned off. The empty street & footpath looks very spooky...
I don't know why we haven't been evacuated... maybe we're expendable.
Wish I'd decided to work from the Wellingtonista Towers today....
Fantastic Careers # 1
But the Briscoe's Lady... how long has she been on our screens? Decades! And all power to her. I won't reveal her name, although it's freely available on a couple of sites. Apparently she lives in Christchurch somewhere & is involved in community works.
I've long thought this must be a cool gig. Not only has it lasted a hell of a long time, but it probably comes with all the appliances you could wish for. In addition, she probably maintains some degree of anonymity despite having a World Famous (within NZ) face.
And when it all started, did she (and Briscoe's) ever dream the association was going to last so long? Did she attend a casting call? Was she on some talent agency's books? Did she appear first in Close to Home or Gloss?
Am I just being silly even wondering about these things?
Just to digress, I did know that Miss Lucy's real name is Marvy King (just in case you find that google cache & read the comments). And if I'm not mistaken, she fronts a band with the charming name of "the Growlers". Anyway, if Miss Lucy is still around in 30 years or so, I'll blog about her fantastic career. Although, correct me if I';m wrong, but it hasn't passed my attention that the Briscoe's Lady never had to prance around in a bikini, so maybe dignity pays off in these matters.
Monday, August 01, 2005
Anthems
I don't want to appear too nationalistic or anything... I only posted that one because Mike linked to it & I remembered the words from long ago...
And it wasn't a veiled plea for anyone to send me Welsh merchandise a la Mike's unknown benefactor. Believe me, I have all the welsh dragon emblazoned crap you could possibly imagine, furnished by relatives...
No, I'm interested in free electronics, not free t-shirts. But thanks anyway Martha.
Although I do need a new coffee cup for work...
but if anyone has any other national anthems in their native language that look equally as unpronouncible... please email them in & I'll paste 'em up.
Netball update: 13-21
Hah! The girls played (as one of them described it) like headless giraffes...
SO the first game at Hataitai, against the Best of the Best... the team they played won the competition last year (at least, the version from that region that played last year). But they weren't very good it turns out.
But that was OK, because our team were even worse. It didn't help that one of the shooters before the game, on being asked if she'd been practising over the last few netball-free weeks replied "Well I shot 3 goals this morning, and I got them all in."
She then failed to score two in a row for the duration of the game & at half time was audibly chastising herself... the coach will take over that duty at practise methinks.
Still, as the coach noted, it'll do them good to lose. Just not too often.
On the rep tournament front, it was in Wanganui yesterday. Get this, the team didn't lose a game (drew one) but only came 5th... sheesh... still, they were happy.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Hen Wlad fy Nhadau - The Welsh National Anthem
Mae hen wlad fy nhadau yn annwyl i mi,
Gwlad beirdd a chantorion, enwogion o fri;
Ei gwrol ryfelwyr, gwladgarwyr tra mad,
Tros ryddid gollasant eu gwaed.
In a way, I only post this because the Welsh language looks so... incomprehensible & amusing. I studied Welsh at school for a year & came last in my class. In my defense, I arrived halfway through the first year (it was compulsory I think), and left halfway through the second. The only phrase I can vaguely remember is the Welsh for "How old are you?" (Beth ydu henechy? - or something like that). And that caravan in Welsh, is garafan. And "Welsh Television" is "Teledy Cymraeg". Perhaps. No responsibility is taken for my dismal Welsh spelling here. But rejoice, the anthem was cut & pasted & should be OK.
I used to have to sing this at school assemblies (not the year I studied Welsh). I think we even knew what the words meant.
The website does advise that the English version is not a literal translation, I think there might be more mention of painful inflictions visited upon the English with sharp and/or red-hot implements. But that might be my memory playing tricks on me.
Still, I can tell you from experience how grand it sounded wafting over the terraces at Cardiff Arms Park... Go visit the site & have a listen by all means.
Hat tip to MiramarMike...
The coming weekend
Netball starts again tomorrow morning (at some uncivilised hour). The girls are playing a new venue this term.
They actually came top of their grade last term & tradition has it that the top 2 teams from each region move to Hataitai for term 2 & play against each other.
So the games will be much harder...
But bring it on.
The downside of this success, is that parking is diabolical at Hataitai. And the courts are so close together, it is hazardous to spectate.
Worse, we have to provide an umpire at each match, who will officiate in another game - this seems fair in one respect, but unfair for the parents who volunteer to umpire - they don't get to see their daughter's game.
Also... few if any of the parents of our team have the faintest idea about umpiring. It does mean that T will be able to focus on coaching though. And we have one volunteer already, but will be scratching for more (and if we get them, I hate to think about the standard of umpiring for those games...).
So onward & upward.
Then on Sunday, it's a rep tournament in the fair city of Wanganui. I'm not going (shame). The Wanganui netball centre is built like a WWII Stalag, very dog unfriendly. And we reason that the weekends are when Wilma gets her quality & quantity family time. So she & I will stay at SunnyO & get picked up on the way home.
I was going to be having a night to myself on Saturday... T & M were to be staying in Wanganui ready for an early start. I was going to feast on baked pork hock (a pork roast for 1). And probably little else... and watch Infernal Affairs...
But we've since discovered that the first game isn't till 11am. So M will still spend the night up there with the rest of the team, T will stay with me in SunnyO (bye bye pork... bye bye Asian Bullet-Fest), and drive up the next day.
Still, I daresay we'll watch something equally interesting & eat something equally delicious... if maybe not so heart-attack-inducing...
MiramarMike gets Free Stuff (TM)
MiramarMike: Thank you to J Trump, whoever you are
Someone is sending cool Free Stuff to Mike... and it reminded me to mention that the Free Stuff camera phone that I requested of any obliging donor has not yet turned up...
I might as well mention that I'm also just champing at the bit to enthusiastically endorse any one of those DVD/Hard Disk Recorders that comes my way... Just gagging for it....
So here I am...
Pretty annoying really, I've sent apologies & work to the troops in the office via Gmail... I've rung the tradesman's company to find out WTF is going on... and they've continued their long valued tradition of not calling me back.
All I need to do is leave the guy a key so that he can check we still have hot water after he moves the gas meter about 1 metre north. Simple really.
First time I called them to say I'd requested this job to be done & heard nothing back, a guy on their contact centre said "But that was ONLY a month ago.."
Then no-one called me back.
The more recently, I rang & complained (only 2 months since I logged it this time). When I got home I found a nice professional letter saying they'd be here today.
Then 3 days ago they called to reschedule to yesterday & told me they needed access (a minor complication). Them at 8am yesterday they called to say "Sorry, it'll be Friday again now".
Since then, silence...
Thing is, I need this job done before our gas fitter goes overseas in a week or two. He needs to do some work after that. Once that's donw, I can fill in the large trench that runs the length of our front garden & restore some semblance of order...
Bastardos.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
...doctors had warned him that showing courtesy to anyone could be fatal...
Priceless!
RIP Edward Heath. (Hat tip to Morphess at Trivial Pursuit)
Toasty’s Futon: The People’s Edward
And there was much rejoicing in the Village...
That's Kelburn Village, the hub of a suburb populated with a mix of white, middle class citizenry, and the fledgling middle class citizenry, not so white as they used to be, the students. Tomorrow's leaders....
And the Village was buzzing last night. Students clogged the shops buying... food, it looked like. I didn't check, but it was likely that the licquor store was doing a good trade too. And the topic of conversation? Aside from everyone (I kid you not, everyone) opining that Mark Blumsky fell down the stairs in a drunken stupor* (and this was opined in not necessarily unadmiring tones), was Labour's interest free student loan (blatant bribe - and opinion was not necessarily unadmiring of this either) promise.
Even the shopkeepers were in good spirits. Especially the ones with children with student loans.
Everyone laughing, and shouting, and pumping the air like Katie Holmes is waiting at home in the hot tub....
And me & Wilma? We were morose. Wilma, because she hates the shops anyway, and especially people trying to win her over & pat her... Me, because happy students do not bode well for peace & quiet & property damage free weekends.
When we first moved to Kelburn, it did not escape my attention that none of the houses in our part of the street had letterboxes. The next door neighbour told me that there was no point, when capping week came along, your letterbox disappeared. And every two weeks or so, all the cars parked kerbside would be vandalised. Drunken students coming home the universal suspects.
Our wheelie bin was taken one night, filled with concrete and dropped off the Kelburn viaduct. We drove home from SunnyO on the Sunday & laughed as we passed it "Some loser has lost their wheelie bin! hey, where's OUR wheelie bin?". Actually that happened twice, despite it being chained up after the first incident.
Fortunately, I paid a significant sum of money for a group of professionals to demolish our letterbox as part of a small suburban renewal programme a couple of weeks ago. SO aside from a sleepless couple of nights listing to revelry, we probably have nothing to worry about.
* To be fair, and to avoid DPF's righteous wrath, I can't see why he'd make up a bogus story if he'd had an accident like that. Blumsky is well known & liked around town & so such unkind speculation somewhat surprised me.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Emmanuelle Beart Pole-Dancing
Hello Google!
Nathalie is about Fanny Ardant discovering that her husband, Gerard depardieu, is being routinely unfaithful. So one night she visits a "gentleman's club" and engages the services of a beautiful prostitute, Nathalie, to catch her husband's eye & report back what melts his buttons...
Pretty soon (a little faster than the wife intended - "I wanted Nathalie to be a normal girl?" - "Maybe she's also an easy lay" is the reply) the younger woman is recounting lurid details of steamy trysts in hotel rooms, and Fanny is inspired to commit her own infidelities.
But is everything as it seems?
Nice performances, talky script, naked French hottie. Pole dancing.
Go ogle.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
This week's cute animal stories...
But first, the inexorably sad one. See that poor donkey in the paper? Awww....
Now for the survivors...
I think I blogged a while back that Wilma the Wonder Labby can somehow tell which of us, in the mornings, is on dog walk duty. Well the school holidays posed a problem for her. Neither of the first two people up in the morning was on duty. And each morning, after the usual bit of happy dancing around each of us in turn, the realisation sank in... then she'd sit there, drooping, waiting for the third family member to get out of bed & do the honourable thing. Labs are creatures of habit.
Worst thing is, because we were all out of routine, one morning I forgot to feed her... had to go home at lunchtime to rectify the situation when I realised & txted everyone to see if anyone else had.
Fortunately, holidays are over & we're back to our usual routine. Happy dog.
But speaking of drooping, you should see her when we put her car restraint on. It's a bit like when she had to wear a halter for walkies, it's like all the fun gets sucked out of life. I don't know why, but she hates the car restraint. Sulks.
And ooh... nearly forgot... up at SunnyO last weekend, was checking on the sheep - they're probably in need of shearing, but I will wait till spring is imminent... this being the depths of Winter I was expecting the guys & gals to be a bit... underfed perhaps, lacking in energy. But they surprised me no end, at dusk on Saturday night, by putting on a long display of gambolling. Whichis, a sign of healthy & happy sheep.
Way to go guys!
Monday, July 25, 2005
I see Mallards...
I hope Ulrich watches the replays, he may have learned something from this year. You see he started out too fast and ran out of steam.
Anyway... Armstrong. Heh, and this isn't even about him. Did you notice that in the telephoto closeup of Lance racing towards the line & Ms Crowe... that car full of grim & burly men that looked like extras from the Sopranos following closely behind? Well I swear it looked like Trevor Mallard driving that car.
Later, because it was a slow night, and the DVD we got out to watch - The Ladykillers, starring that nice Tom Hanks guy... turned out to be pretty crappy & waaay... too gross for family fare (no kidding, it sucks - watch the old UK original starring Alec Guinnes, that one is great.), we found ourselves watching one of the half a dozen or so channels that plays CSI.
It was the one set in Las Vegas, except it was set hi Los Angeles this week. Teh crusty cop with a heart of gold was in LA visiting his estranged daughter, who has become a hooker. her best friend & colleague goes missing & is later fished out of a lake. meanwhile, somehow, one of the CSI guys is also in LA (we missed the beginning, and so why this came about was beyond our understanding).
but the thing that struck me this week, and I have no idea why I have never notriced it before... is that the crusty cop with a heart of gold & an estranged daughter who has become a Hollywood hooker... appears to be played by Trevor Mallard.
A surreal end to the weekend. Wondering where Trev will turn up next now...
Friday, July 22, 2005
And still they come...
Doesn't everyone "know" already? (inverted commas indicate that I for one will not be entirely convinced until name suppression is dropped. Particularly some of the more peripheral names that are coming up...)
Celebrities take drugs? Who'd have believed it? I hope they're having a lot of sex too & generally behaving badly, otherwise where is the incentive to become a clebrity in the first place?
Meanwhile (and completely unrelated)... not a single person has (ever) googled in here looking for news on Jason Gunn or Hayley Westenra...
InsideSauce -> Sportsmen and drugs (no names disclosed)
She?
But how interesting...
InsideSauce -> Sportsmen and drugs
I had a truckload of "young professionals" visit over the last day... is this what they do all day? :)
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Tip to bloggers
Psst... wanna know the latest goss? Seeing as I've mentioned one or two celebrity names in the past on this site, as well as (unrelated to them) phrases similar to "drug addled" and "name suppression", I've been fascinated by the google referrals that have swung by over the last day or two.
I'm considering a post comprising of nothing but a list of celebrities - including past & present casts of Shortland Street, anyone who has ever been an All Black, Silver Fern, Black Cap, or medal winning Olympic athlete, news readers, reality TV show contestants, game show hostesses, Charlotte Dawson (what, exactly IS she famous for anyway?), and Public Address bloggers...
And then see what turns up....
We have Ignition...
Disclaimer: Picture does not depict the actual yellow retriever or heater in question.
Tonight's the night!
Heating!
I am promised (solemnly) by punctual & industrious tradesmen! (Yeah, right).
And we're apparently heading for a stratospheric high of 9 degrees today...
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
7 words you can't say...
I'm sure William Torkington sends his apologies to George Carlin....
Cheers Kev, for the link (Quicktime required).
Lights in the sky...
M was in Auckland visiting rellies last weekend. They took her to Don Giovanni, her first opera ever!
On the way home they were treated to the spectacular lightning storm I've read a few people rave about this week...
M recounted this to us when she got home..
"... and I said, Wow! That's the most exciting thing I've seen all night!"
And T then asked her: "What did the opera fans in the car say to that?"
"Oh" said M, oblivious "I don't think they said anything..."
Not "THAT" Ben & Olivia...
So far as I know anyway. And since these guys have been responsible for a truckload of referrals here, I feel honour bound to return the favour. Perhaps.
Public Address | Hard News - White Collared
Although... it made me recall an incident shortly after we bought our first SunnyO retreat... I discovered a hatch at the back of a cupboard that led underneath the house. Just a few feet within the hatch, were a bunch of crumpled clothes... and I had this awful feeling about what I might find. Anyway... it was just some old clothes (phew!).
Also... I don't need to know the names of these two sportsmen/TV celebs... I especially don't need to know in the comments section... OK? I know who they sound like...
Cool Movie Alert! Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter... and Spring.
I've had a major deadline looming at work the last few weeks. One which I've successfully ignored (aside from a few guilty feelings in the weekend). Today... it got brought forward a day... and so I started the work involved. Since I find that 90% of the burden of any job is actually starting it... I fully expect to finish it by lunchtime.
Remember that old Lily Langtree series? When Oscar Wilde says something along the lines of "I've had SUCH a busy day, this morning I inserted a comma, and this afternoon I took it out." I know the feeling.
And so it is I feel justified in goofing off for 10 minutes to tell you about this movie.... which I missed from last year's film festival.
I just don't have the words to describe how gorgeous this is. Set on a small Buddhist temple floating in a lake, somewhere in Korea, it concerns the lives of an old monk, and his young charge who we see grow into adulthood (the Spring, Summer, Autumn & Winter of his life, geddit?).
When this film takes place is indeterminate for a long time into the running, could be yesterday, it could be 3000 years ago. It's not until visitors arrive at the temple that the period can be guessed at by their clothing.
Come Autumn (or Fall, as the subtitles insist), the young man is now 30, and back at the temple on the run from the law. His master's words were prophetic. In this episode he must work the anger from his soul & confront his destiny.
Some years later, and it is Winter. This time the young man, now middle aged, is able to walk across the frozen lake. He finds his master has died in the intervening period, and he has come home to take his place. Before Winter is out (following an unexpectedly tragic incident, which will make you gasp!), the monk takes charge of a young apprentice... and it is Spring again. Life is circular. Etc.
Believe me, telling you the plot won't detract from your viewing experience in the slightest. This is just beautiful.
There are some fascinating details too. There are doors that the monks & visitors diligently use, but no walls. There must be some symbolism that I'm unaware of. And by golly, I don't know if snakes share the same representations in Buddhism as Christianity... but there sure are a lot of them in this movie.
Oh yeah - addendum... Mrs Llew states she is getting heartily tired of "Asian" movies (a staple at the SunnyO household). But what she really means is that she's so over the tippity-tappety flying through the air martial arts thing. Which is a pity, I've got House of Flying Daggers lined up...
But Spring, Summer etc, has none of that... except for one brief, ambiguously mystical occurence that answered the question we'd had most of the way through... "How does the old man get across the lake to keep tabs on the boy, when the boy has the boat?" I'll keep you in suspense. But suffice to say, we all looked at each knowingly... because we've seen these guys tippity-tappety & fly in other movies... although, that's not what he does...
Anyway, you could do a lot worse than spending some time with a couple of Buddhist monks in the middle of a lake.
I promise I'll watch something with a car chase soon...
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Alright... I don't get it
How come the sidebar has started displaying at the bottom of the posts?
Or is it just me?
To be perfectly honest...
I think I'd rather my dog was considered 'savage'.
STUFF : ODDSTUFF - STORY : 'Savage' dogs get camouflage
Monday, July 18, 2005
Intimate Strangers - Cool Movie Alert!!
Picked Intimate Strangers up to watch in the weekend & was very pleasantly surprised. It's directed by Patrice Leconte, who also directed one of the most enjoyable French films I've ever seen - The Girl on the Bridge (which is about a knife thrower - Daniel Auteuil, who comes across a depressed young woman - a luminous Vanessa Paradis, about to commit suicide by throwing herself off a bridge. The knife thrower offers her a job as his assistant reasoning that it might be a win-win situation for both of them. It's brilliant.)
Anyway... Intimate Strangers isn't such a black comedy as that one. It concerns William (Fabrice Luchini), a staid tax accountant specialising in messy divorce cases, who is visited at his office/apartment by Anna (Sandrine Bonnaire), an attractive woman who has mistaken his office for that of the psychotherapist down the hallway. Since she's there to talk about her unhappy marriage, William thinks she's just unloading & doesn't realise the mistake until after her visit.
In fact, even when Anna realises her mistake, she finds she values their meetings so much, that she continues to visit.
In turn, William is captivated by Anna & lives for their appointments. She becomes an agent for change in his life - William lives in & works from the apartment & office which was owned by his father, who was also a tax accountant. In fact, there is nothing of William in the place, his secretary even, was his father's, he has kept his parents' bedroom just as it was when they were alive. William grew up in the place. When Anna asks him who a picture on the wall is of, he confesses he has no idea - someone his father knew he presumes. The picture is gone by the time Anna next visits.
William consults the psychotherapist down the hallway about the situation & finds himself not only acting as the Doctor's proxy, but the subject of analysis himself. I found these scenes highly amusing, the doctor is a dry fellow who manages to extract either a consultation fee, or lunch, from William every time
Despite the salacious sounding title, there is no sex or nudity, the intimacy refers to the conversations they have.
Do by all means, check this out.
Friday, July 15, 2005
Day 3 - Rain stops play...
Problem seems to be foundations need to be deeper. Unavoidable. Might cost more (but would have anyway), but progress will not be slowed too much.
Still haven't checked my lotto ticket from last week (delaying the crushing, yet probably inevitable moment when the machine says "Not a winning ticket". They need a cheerier, or at least more personable rejection I think.
"Sorry, you're a loser".
But I hate being rejected by a machine anyway. Fuckers.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
HAH! (Hysterical guffaw). Day 2.
Word has it the builders, having destroyed our property, have packed up for the week because the ground is "too puggy" for the proposed foundations.
Architects have yet to be informed by said builder, but I have already asked them to find out what is going on & solve the problem without any further impact on costs.
Day 2! Shiiiiiiiiittt! We have 10 weeks of this to look forward to. I am already resolved never to have anything built, ever again.
Also, Mrs Llew had a minor fracas with a neighbour & HER builder who were reserving carparks in the carpark deprived street, for a delivery man.
Then, the fireplace guy announced he's finished until next Thursday (after telling me this morning that everything would be up & running by the time I got home today...), and has decamped to his other client in our street, the neighbour fracassing with T...
At least Dr Who is on tonight.
N.Z. Restaurant Puts Mr. Ed on the Menu
Think this is true? You may have to click through a brief ad to read this. But essentially, a Hamilton restaurant is serving chargrilled horse... according to Salon.com
Salon.com Wire Story - N.Z. Restaurant Puts Mr. Ed on the Menu: "
All over the place this morning...
The front garden looks like a big digging machine has scraped it flat (odd that). The dog is so excited, she doesn't know which bit of mud to roll in first.
We gain access to our property via temporary steps from the next door neighbour's place.
There is chaos in the garden, and slightly less chaos inside where a fireplace man is struggling to get our two heaters up & running by the time we get home tonight. It should have been yesterday, but 1. The water suddenly dried up so he was unable to mix mortar, and 2. there was no way for him to get his 30kg bags of mortar down to the house, even if he got water from next door.
I have amused our architects immensely by declaring "Sheesh, this is only day 1! Will there be a day down the track when you send me an email to say you've discovered the project will cost $3000 less than thought?". I think my email is probably being circulated around the NZ Architects Institute to give them a good laugh.
And so the evening was spent debating between ourselves (the clients) whether "contingency" and "slush" funds should be synonyms. And wondering where I could find a photo of Audrey Tatou dressed as Zorro.
I have made it clear to everyone that things had better settle down for a few months now or we're all in trouble, as far as budgets are concerned anyway.
I have loads to do at work also. Loads... fortunately I have finely honed & sophisticated work avoidance techniques to counter this. I developed rudimentary skills in this area early on, at college certainly, possibly before. I refined them to a level approaching Art at university. I am not the sort of person that plans a project out, prepares, and has it completed well before the deadline. I'm a "Holy fuck, it's half an hour before my 6000 word essay on DH Lawrence's The Man Who Died is due, I'd better read it." kind of guy. I once had to run a seminar on the NZ novel Man Alone. I hadn't finished it, but led a rousing session by asking the class what they thought of the ending. Winged it quite successfully. The tutor, the scary Father Francis MacKay even complimented me. I'm still not sure how it finished, the class didn't really seem to agree.
And so what was the point of that anyway? Oh yes, I have lots to do but this morning I was instantly distracted & moved by this post on Public Address. BusyBoy has figured out that his parents & everyone he knows will one day die.
MiramarMike sent me a meme some time ago, 5 things I miss about childhood. I never completed the meme. For one thing, there was a lot of faffing around with links to do. For another, when I first read it I thought I only had to think of one thing & move everyone else's entries one place up.
The truth is, there is one thing I miss from my childhood. I miss my dad.
I can remember, like BusyBoy, when the concept of mortality sunk in. It seemed important then, not just that my folks remain alive for a long time, but that they remain some good distance from death, that they remain young.
I can remember quizzing them: "Will you still be a young man & woman when I am a young man?" I'm sure the answer was in the affirmative.
Really, what I hadn't factored in at that stage, was that death does not only come to old people. He made it to approximately 6 months older than I am right now. Still young. I was a mere 19 at the time. We really weren't young men together for long enough. Younger brother & younger sister were, and are of course, some 4-5 years younger than me. Now, if he were alive, he'd be in his early 70s. Although if my mum is any indication of how he'd have aged, he might still be considered young.
I possibly get my work ethic from my dad. Certainly, I squirmed recently when my mum observed that it would have been a lot easier for her & her young family, if my dad had had some ambition, he was immensely talented, academically & sportingly, dux at school, scholarships, captain of the first 15 & eleven... I could see my wife looking at me out of the corner of her eyes & pennies dropping into place, and I knew she was thinking about the ambition thing :) Hey, I have ambition! I just haven't yet figured out what I want to succeed at. In the meantime, be assured, I wear lots of sunscreen.
I have a wonderful photograph of my father, taken when he would have been in his early 20s, and it looks like he & the group of men he is with have just finished a shift in a coal mine. He looks for all the world like a young John Lennon (without the moptop). If I had a scanner....
So anyway, I don't really want to dwell on this, I should get back to work, or if not, scour the web for Audrey Tatou dressed as Zorro.
I'll finish with just a very quick story about my dad, which might be indicative of something. Or not.
When we were back in the UK for a year in the early 1970s, dad, who was a mining engineer turned maths & physics teacher, had scored himself a job at a local secondary modern school, pretty much babysitting a hard case class of underachievers, and even teaching, of all things, given he was the least practical engineer who ever walked the face of the earth, metalwork.
After some months, the local school inspectors visited, and were obliged to mention to dad, that one enterprising young fellow, down the back of his metalwork class, had for some months, been quite competently & diligently, building himself a fully functioning revolver.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Amelie
For those who haven't seen it, it's a delightful, magical tale about a shy yuoung woman in Paris, doing good deeds for those who need them, striking retribution for those who do not, and engineering true love for herself with Nino (Matthieu Kassovitz - who also directed (and starred in) the hard hitting La Haine).
So it's a feel good tour de force (de Paris).
Anyway, all I wanted to say was that what struck me, on this viewing, is how unbelievably hot Audrey Tatou looks when dressed in a Zorro costume.
I always wanted to hold a Zorro party.... one where everyone, men & women, have to come dressed as Zorro. For some reason I've always thought that'd be cool. Might have to drink nothing but tequila too.
More on my Zorro fixation when I finally read the book....
Things you just don't want to hear from trained professionals doing a big job on your house & property:
1. Oo-er, bit steeper than I remember.
2. You know that watermain we said we had to be careful not to sever?
I had an Arthur Dent moment this morning. Opened the front door to be confronted by 4 burly guys & a big digging machine looking over our front fence....
Said hello & went back inside for a few minutes, came back out & the fence was gone...
As I left for work, I did snap a picture of the digger advancing down the hill (which I will post in due course)... even though the gradient is steeper than he remembered... he told me not to worry, it'll all be OK "It's GOT to be!" which I decided not to mention was still not the most reassuring thing to say...
M came up our garden path to take Wilma for her walk. By the time she got back, apparently, the path & steps were gone too...
At least when they rang later, it was only about the water & our newly forming front lake. I had visions that they may have slid the digger down the hill & into our lounge via the four 12 foot high windows out the front... (Memo to self: DON'T EVEN SAY THAT!!)
So, for the next 3 months we will be coming & going via our next door neighbour's garden path & some temporary steps. It could be worse.
It occurs to me now that I haven't actually thought about what to do about the letter-box that got demolished this morning. Hopefully the postie will improvise (as if). Later, a lot of other things will occur to me that I hadn't considered. I guess that's progress.
We were lucky that all the preparation was done in time. Or most of it anyway. The power & phone now go underground. The gas company had a meter to replace, and move, so the digger could get in. I noted last night that they visited yesterday & replaced it, but hadn't moved it. (Hence the digger took the alternative, steeper route). Since the gas company don't return phonecalls ever, and the guy I need to speak to is never, ever in the office, I have no idea what the story is. They were supposed to quote on the job too, before doing it. But that seems to have gone by the way... I guess I'm a captive customer in this situation... (Hello Contact Energy, I'm talking to YOU!)
At least the owner of the house next door & his tenants are happy to have us trooping down their steps to get to our place. We'll invite them to our car deck warming party. And the builder, and the electrician. But not the gas company man. That'll teach him.
Monday, July 11, 2005
World News
Man - my toe is STILL a problem! I know you needed to know this...
During the week, it morphed from a stunted purple kumara, to a yellow one. With a purple grape growing off it.
One week down the track the grape is a bit smaller. So progress I suppose. Oh... and its a lot less painful. Pity, I was getting fond of the limp.
And so the Lion's tour is history. Saw no red jerseys or jackets on the street today. I miss those guys already.
Spent the weekend profitably - cleared as much as I could from the front section, in advance of a digging machine coming on Wednesday to clear what's left. I moved bricks, terracotta pots & plants. A huge camellia, and a lot of decorative native grasses. What's left can be scraped now, I'm done.
Extended my trench - part of which already has phone, power & a redundant Saturn cable sitting in it ready to be cut over tomorrow - down beside the house where the gas line diverges from the rest of the utilities.
Goodness knows when the gas company will be moving the meter... a very grumpy man came up (the builder was on site & he & I made faces behind the gas man's back) to tell us all the problems & obstacles involved. Fortunately, another gas man came along a few minutes later, took a quick look & cheerfully announced "Easy". Yay! We'll take that guy's second opinion thanks.
Have I mentioned I'm a landlord BTW? Got another house down the road, which is home to 5 young "professionals". A TV reporter, two lawyers (to keep a landlord on his toes), a PR company something... and someone else, whose vocation I can't recall. That last guy though, seems to travel in the company of an ever changing selection of quite attractive young women. So maybe he's a racing car driver (wild guess).
Actually, they're a nice bunch, some of them are cute even. Although they are DIY impaired. I know it's a landlord's job sometimes, but I think the first person on the scene can probably competently press the button to reset the circuit breaker... but apparently not.
And changing a lightbulb did actually involve a small rewiring job (I lived for 5 years with only one of those bulbs working.. now I no longer live there, I finially mounted ladder & fixed it...). SO I can't really complain about that.
They are amusing at times though. SO I'm up a ladder, and one of them comes home & says hello & tells me how cute Wilma (waiting outside) is. She enters the kitchen. A few minutes pass & there is a conversation heard. I call out for someone to try the light switch. There is sudden silence. Then the one who just recently passed me says, with a note of mild panic, "Whose voice is that? Is someone here?". On told it is just me, completely blocking the hallway, and she just clambered past me... "Oh yes... I forgot." (Patent lawyer).
And so lots accomplished this weekend. Sore & tired again. I need some time off...
Friday, July 08, 2005
The Triforce : Tubes really are cunts. So are terrorists. And Tony Blair.
Scarfed this from the comments section on Alan's blog...
The Triforce : Tubes really are cunts. So are terrorists. And Tony Blair.
It's from a survivor of one of the tube blasts.
A Letter To The Terrorists, From London :: The London News Review
Better than a stiff upper lip....
A Letter To The Terrorists, From London :: The London News Review
