peter1610

06:11 pm - By jove I think shes lost it !

YeeYa .. thats how "year" is pronounced .. apparently. It must be correct because a lot of media people and journos do it that way.

07:08 pm - WA politics...

It's been revealed by investigative journalists that Troy Buswell picks his nose and eats it.

07:44 pm - Sven girly

Nigel had the  second worst job in the australiana restaurant, Fauna Misfortuna.  It was his job to prepare the koala bear ears. Cutting the ears off was relatively easy nuff but shaving them and removing the ear wax was labourious and dirty. 
"Mind you, there's always someone worse of than yourself," he philosophised. 
The Vietnamese girl, Sven, had to prepare the koala noses. Nothing was easy about that; removing the noses was delicate and tricky, shaving them was almost impossible and removing koala bogies is back breaking. 
Nigel one day discovered that final spin was a nice spoonerism of spinal fin and that was enough to keep his mind off the work for a couple of hours. 





 

10:38 am - great tits Batman !

bad bad naughty BBC . . . .

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/7390109.stm

08:21 pm - bloody yanks

I thoroughly enjoy that Antiques Roadshow show. It is so "English". 

When the people are told the value of their pieces they come back with a variety of verbal responses - "Really?" .. "Oh dear me" .. "My goodness" . . "Good Lord" ..  "Are you serious?"  ..  "Well well" .. "I'd never have thought" and so on. Beautifully subdued.

If it was an american show every single response would be screamed while jumping up and down - "OH MY GAAARD!!!!"    "OH MY GAAARD!!!!"    "OH MY GAAARD!!!!"       brainless fuckers that they are.

In fact an Australian version would also have the "OH MY GAAARD!!!!" responses too I suppose. I see one of the pharmacies at the train station in Perth now calls itself a "Drugstore"..  another american nail in the Australian language coffin.

09:11 am - bahh bahh black coffee

Green and Co, the café in Oxford Street Leederville has always been a pretty unpretentious place; good food, nice coffee fast friendly service. I’ve spent many a sunny sunday morning sitting back after a big breakfast with the newspaper happily people watching.

It closed for a few months and recently re-opened. I walked by the other day and lo was much saddened. They’ve turned it into another yuppy coffee shop. Oxford Street needs another coffee shop like I need another arsehole.

I just do not understand the coffee shop culture, hoards of pork pie hatted tossers sitting around sipping 25 different kinds of coffee and talking shite in very loud voices making believe that they’re living in an episode of Friends.

Sure I could still have a Sunday breakfast there if I wanted to but I’d have to have carrot cake and sit on a fucking milk crate.

Mindless sodding sheep twats.

06:42 pm - the final count is in for the seat of Sniffing

what the hell have things come to?. . . Clinton got a messy blow job from a clerk, lied on oath about it and survived as president of the usa . . Troy Buswell does some bra twanging and seat sniffing and he's struggling to hang onto the crappy job of opposition leader in the worlds most remote state . .!

09:41 pm - retail ridiculousness

A great man once said that today’s Ikea product is next year’s street verge bulk rubbish clearance (ok, it was me).

I posted about Ikea a while ago and how much I truly detest the place. And I mentioned the new Ikea super store.

I went there today, don’t ask me how that happened but it did, lets just say I was shanghaied by a hong kong friend.

There’s a certain type of person who genuinely loves shopping at Ikea, ovine.

The new store has 150,000,000,000 trilxillion metres of floor space and employs 5 sales assistants who all look into space as the sheep amble by.

But in lieu of human beings it has thousands and thousands of free pencils (pencil stubs really) and paper yardsticks and little order pads to write your purchases on.

They have a crèche, the sheep drop their lambs into the crèche and the lambs are given numbers tied to their upper torsos in the way of animals at the royal show.

And there’s an Ikea food hall where you can order an assemble yourself soup that smells as appetizing as the chipboard furniture.

They still have arrows on the floor in case the sheep get lost (I don’t think the Ikea customers are able to read the arrows, it’s really more an instinct that keeps them on the path).

I made out to look like the others by scribbling things down in my little order pads. In the column “product description” I wrote crap, crap, crap and left them around the store. It is crap, I know about furniture. My hong kong friend knows my abhorrence of all things Ikea and laughed at my antics, as well she bloody should !

When we got back to the car I emptied my pockets and counted 45 free Ikea pencil stubs, they are crap to write with but if I can alen key them all together I should be able to make a rickety shoe rack for the next bulk rubbish clearance.

06:22 pm - there's a dog in there

You've seen that ad on the telly with Noni Hazelhurst flogging something, insurance I think? . . . well I just sooooo can't believe I used to fancy that woman ...  and it's not just the physical aging and fattening and wrinking, that I can handle -  it's the idiocy, the irritating stupidity .. she's always been that way apparently but it is so much harder to tolerate now.


 

10:44 pm - Death of a Spitfire

Any lad who has ever glued one of these magnificently graceful airplanes together can weep right about now.

 

07:01 pm - surfs up, so is peter

I think it's bloody disgusting how at these surf competitions the tv cameras pan into the very thin lycra clad girl's bums as they squat real low down on their surf boards paddling away from the beach. If you look really hard you can see the outlne of everything !  I've half a mind to complain.

07:32 am - stepping out

(Wikipedia)  . . Nazi Party declared the Lambeth Walk "Jewish mischief and animalistic hopping" in early 1939 as part of a speech about how the "revolution of private life" was one of the next big tasks of National Socialism.

This film so enraged Josef Goebbels that he ran out of the screening room kicking chairs and screaming profanities.

It's a good thing Germany lost the war, they'd never have  been able to handle zer britisher humour ja?

07:52 pm - ahh... memories .. :-)

 This is one of the playgrounds of my childhood. It's a bombed out terrace in Walcott Street Hull photograhed in 1946. The houses either side are burnt out. 
15 years later when I was 6 nothing had changed except that the terrace itself had become the local unofficial rubbish tip. We used to stack the stinky old matresses up, set them alight then jump from the upper story windows and bounce off the matresses ending up only slightly flambed. Oh what fun. It was NOT a garden suburb.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v684/peter1610/walcottstbomb1946.jpg?t=1207312810





 

06:19 pm - a great big melting pot

New legislation announced today that people with fair skin will not be allowed to use solariums. 
I wouldn't imagine too many dark skinned people would need solarium treatment would they ?
 

07:15 am - .

kevin rude and rodney bloody wilson ?

09:24 pm - ticket to ride

I have lately been using up the silver coins I have in a jar to buy my morning train ticket, there must be a few months worth of tickets I reckon, it’s like free travel.

This morning I am there feeding 15 ten cent coins into the machine, it’s a $1.50 fare (I’m good at simple maths). It’s a slow process, you can’t make the machine digest them any faster than it does; it’s coin in, click . . pause . . click . .clunk ..  longer pause . . ching. Coin in, click . . pause . . click . . clunk . .  longer pause . . ching and so on and no amount of filthy language speeds up the clunking and the clicking and the chinking.

Halfway through this the train arrives, I’m panicking that I may not get my ticket in time, then I become aware of someone breathing down my neck and she is panicking even more than me, naturally. There is pressure now, and there’s frustration and also on my part quite a bit of guilt (who is this cheap arse using 10 cent coins to buy a ticket when the fucking train is at the platform!). . . I pop the last coin in and the machine spits it back, I’m terrified now that the machine will regurgitate all the coins (that has happened before)..  I try feeding the last coin in, the girl, agitated but polite, points out that my ticket is in the tray, I’ve obviously fed 16 coins in. I take my ticket and make it into the carriage, the doors are about to close.  

I “not too confidently” stand in the gap a little bit to stop the doors closing but the looks on the faces of the people of the court of king caractacus make it clear that I’ll be lynched from an overhead strap handle, ..so I move and at that moment the girl has got her ticket, she runs to the carriage door, it shuts in her face..  she looks at me through the glass, I try to give a facial expression that tells her I’m sorry about the ten cent coins and sorry that I couldn’t keep the doors open.   

You could say I suppose, to use the Latin term, that excretum occura, and the guilt wore off very quickly as the day marched on…  but sitting here now at bedtime I’ve got it off my chest, I’m purged  J

08:14 pm - GMF RIP

More idle surfing and I see that George Macdonald Fraser died on January the 2nd aged 82. 
I've read each of his Flashman novels at least 3 times .. truly delightful reading. A cad, a bounder, a bully, a coward, a fornicator and more besides. 
I only came across this sad news because I'm currently re-reading the first Flashman novel.. it's on my bedside cupboard, I'll go back to it tonight.    http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/obituaries/article3126821.ece

01:21 am - peace

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/7292252.stm

not many people know that . . . 


 

07:03 pm - It's pawwot season

Sitting on my balcony last evening enjoying the leafiness all around and the sun going down and the city skyline lighting up .. all very beautiful, very relaxing.

Two rainbow lorikeets settled on a branch not 6 feet from me.. wonderful creatures, nature at her colourful best.  Later, out of curiosity I looked up the rainbow lorikeet in Wikipedia. It seems the rainbow lorikeet is not native to western australia, it was introduced accidentally by scientists from UWA back in the 1960’s and is classified as a pest.

I’ll be waiting tonight with a shotgun.



 

07:44 am - It'd make you sick

Doctors waiting rooms.. a fine source of LJ fodder always. . .

This one has recently installed a nice flat panel tv on the wall and there’s something about a tv when you’re being held hostage in a small room for 40 minutes, you just have to look at it no matter what’s on.

This one has a 5 minute continuous loop about all the stuff that can kill you or at best make life pretty uncomfortable. Diabetes, blood pressure, heart disease, AIDS, gonorrhea, genital warts, mental illness etc.. and then there’s a shot of a beautiful tropical beach and you think at last, something cheerful, no, it’s to tell you about the horrible diseases you can contract while on holiday overseas (so speak to your doctor about vaccination).

I suppose there is nothing in the video loop that wouldn’t appear on the usual waiting room wall anyway in poster form but they are much easier not to look at. And given that an average waiting period is half an hour I think a 5 minute video loop is pure sadism.

Oh, and the whole depressing thing is put together by a mob called ‘Lift Media”

And funny thing is, I wasn’t even tempted to pick up a women’s gossip magazine !