I cannot believe the speed at which these summer school holidays have sped by. In a few days, Master 14 will be again traipsing up the hill to the local high school where he is to commence Year 9, resplendent with his new back pack bouncing against his shoulder blades with each step he takes in the new black shoes we bought him. The back pack has some eerie faces on it - they are pineapples with skull faces. I guess it's the sort of thing one would find in a tattoo parlour on the Sunshine Coast. I didn't have a back pack at school. I had one of those rock hard Globites - remember them? I found my old one when cleaning at Dad's, and it's in my car now. It still has my name on it - I did the lettering with liquid paper back in Year 11, and one of the boys traced over it with his own liquid paper. I don't know why he felt compelled to waste his liquid paper thus. Anyway, Mr Bingells and I were telling Master 14 about the old Globites, and Mr Bingells said they were a very efficient weapon indeed if one was called upon to defend oneself with a Globite should one find oneself set upon by the local bully. Those weren't Mr Bingells' exact words because he does not share grammar and syntax with Prince Charles. But a well-swung Globite connecting with the jaw of your antagonist could do some very choice damage indeed, particularly if the Globite contained one of those heavy old Science Missals Volume I (blowfly squashed between slammed shut pages an optional extra). I never swung my Globite at anybody. If I was going to do this, the bully who would have been on the receiving end had left by the time I was given this Globite - she left when I was at the end of Year 8, and she Year 10. She was this horrible fat bitch who looked like Jabba the Hutt in a school dress. She sat up the back of my school bus in the middle of the very back seat (probably to provide some kind of balance and alignment when the bus was turning a corner). I just got thinking about her, and all that went through my mind was, 'God, she was a cunt.' In the event you are reading this, you globular pile of nastiness: Yes, you did make my life miserable and yes I hated you. However, I might point out that my bestie (another of your victims) and I used to laugh like mad when you played volley ball - your uniform barely covered your wobbly big bum because your parents probably couldn't afford to buy enough material for the dress required, and when you jumped to hit the ball you caused undue stress to the topography of the playground.
But on a lighter (tone, not density) note, I've been having a lovely time perving at the shirtless Mark Farner of Grand Funk Railroad in a clip for a live performance of 'Locomotion'. Here is the clip, and ladies, take note at 0.58 when he wiggles his hips. You can all thank me later. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wBVgVABsf-4
Tomorrow is Australia Day, a political hot potato of cultural clashes. Whatever it is, I am going to join some friends for a barbeque. I'm not putting lamb on the bbq, but only because I can't afford it. What I would like to have done is bought a nice firm salmon fillet and wrapped it in foil for the hot plate. And for the record, I don't have a problem with the Sam Kekovich Australia Day ad, as I'm sure I pointed out on a previous post. It is what is called 'tongue in cheek'. What happened to our sense of humour? If I met a person like Sam Kekovich, and indeed I have, I would find this person obnoxious. However, in the context of a satirical ad, I see the humour. As for the assertion to this ad promotes violence against vegans, I say a resounding 'pfffffft!'. The coffee table is torched, not the vegan. My other bestie is vegan; I must ask her if she finds this ad offensive. I'm thinking she doesn't, because although she gave up using animal products many years ago, she did not give up her sense of humour.
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