A friend recently praised bidets. Gave them the thumbs up. I’ve stopped laughing at this now, as I am weak and my sides ache.
I must say at this juncture that the posting was in support of cleaner and more eco-friendly sewage and all the people who commented were in favour of it. So we should be, because when it all goes to shit, none of us want to be the one standing there with the rubber gloves.
And the bidet is apparently a good answer to the problem – or so I am told by people who are prepared to stand for that sort of thing. Or perhaps that should be sit…In any case they take their corporate responsibilities seriously and are trying to cut down the paperwork at the orifice.
Oh Dear God, stop me before I keel over…
I have little experience with them – bidets I mean. I have avoided French toilets by not going to France very often, and the only occasion that saw me sitting at a fundament fountain ( Agg, Agg, Erk…) was in Japan. I am led to believe the control panel by the side of the hoo hoo was to make soothing sounds but I just reckon they were all frustrated Zero pilots there and liked the idea of a cockpit when they put their co….Oh, this is just going to be disaster if I keep typing….
And before you ask, the answer is ” No “. No, I did not press any of the buttons. Not while I was going to be sitting in the ejection seat, anyway. I had a Sears and Roebuck catalogue and I figured it was better to go with what I knew than venture into uncharted waters. I’m prepared to risk my neck, but I don’t keep my neck down there…
It has been a busy season and some stations on the social railway have remained necessarily unattended. People have had to embarrass or insult themselves in the absence of trained staff members. The mental porters have not be available to help with the psychological baggage and passengers have had to lump it themselves.
With such a busy world – and so many people wanting to be angry and offended – the job of the Backstabbers Guild of Australia might be thought to be idyllic. A victim at every turn – treachery by the carton – coups to be struck all day. This is the case, of course, but we in the BGA have to plead the limits of inhumanity. We can do only so much to worsen your lives. You really must learn to make yourselves miserable when we are not available.
Let us take simple case of a person – say an ordinary man or woman who is a pillar of the community – and ask whether we really need to exercise the full fury of the Guild on them – with attendant expenses and time needed. Would it not be better in 58.3% of cases to enable them to make fools of themselves, and save our efforts for the exceptional? I think it would be.
To this end we will be sending out BGA Paks to a wide range of households in Australia this coming winter. Each Pak will contain banana peels, metal caltrops spikes, mercaptan oil in breakable containers, and a handy guide to public embarrassment that will enable the recipients to produce their own regrettable incidents. As an added incentive to use the kits the Guild will include three free Golden Tickets per 1000 kits that entitle the lucky winners to nominate someone to be publicly humiliated, with the full compendium of Guild fiendishness.
It looks like a good winter.
The BGA wishes to call for submissions from concerned Australians that can be used to allude that Scott Morrison colluded with the Royal Ruritanian State Security Service ( RRSSS ) to influence Saturday’s election.
We are particularly interested in any packets of letters sealed in wax that may have been couriered between Canberra and Strackenz in the period leading up to the polls. Pencil sketches of hooded riders galloping along dark roads in the dead of night will be particularly useful.
We have selected Red Green to act as Special Investigator as soon as he finishes his Lodge meeting. While Mr. Green is not an Australian citizen, we feel that his name alone should be sufficient qualification to put him in good standing with at least two of the disappointed political parties – the Greens and the Socialist Alliance.
During the period of this investigation we will be issuing calls for writs of impeachment, impearment, and …in honour of Queensland…impineapplement. As well, we will be including macadamias and the chief produce of Kingaroy in the mix.
Think of it as a fruits and nuts campaign.
Oops. Darn that Autocorrect.
Oh, well, now that we’ve been committed to it we might as well do the show as advertised.
Our first act will be a chorus of school children who have been bussed in from schools where the teachers want more pay and less singing. They will present a song and interpretive dance for goodness and against badness entitled ” We Are Right And You Are Wrong, So Nya Nya Nya Nya Nya…”. They have the full support of the Nya Nya party, who otherwise would go unnoticed.
After that we’ll be playing our interview with the Prime Minister of Canada who will sing ” Why Is Everyone So Mean To Me? ” and then we’ll be crossing live to Kamahl who will tell him exactly why.
Don’t think that we’ll be ignoring the football panel, though. We have 15 minutes of flashing lights, fast cutaways, and grunting by a stage full of hearty backslappers, so stay tuned.
Now back to the comedy of Boris ” All my friends are dead ” Krapotkin. You’ll die laughing. All his friends did.
If you were looking for an internet columnist who will write mean things about people, I’m your man. I’m available 24 hours a day to bang out copy telling the world how dreadful your enemies are – no target goes unscathed. I charge reasonable prices for scandalous writing, and I have an ABN number so you can get a tax deduction.
Except today – this is the one day of the year when I write nice things about people – and today it is about Yamina, the Samba dancer.
She was kind enough yesterday to buy me a ticket to the movies during the Festival Of French Cinema and accompany me to the show. As a French teacher, she could get a lot more from the film than I, but fortunately there were very good subtitles. And as it was a show about music and dance, the soundtrack and visuals spoke for themselves.
Totally not what I thought it was going to be. The title was Le Grand Bal, and I expected opera or theatre costuming, sweeping staircases, and Offenbach. As it turned out, it was a doco on one of the festivals of folk music and dance held in the central part of France in the summer. She had been to many of these in similar circumstances and this was the connection. Apparently it was a very accurate as well as charming film.
I found it fascinating seeing people dressed as ordinary tourists but doing extraordinary things – dancing for 7 days and 8 nights while taking workshop lessons and getting 2 hours of sleep in the interim. Performing intricate art for their own enjoyment. Acting as an impromptu corps du ballet – perfectly controlled, and all to folk instruments. Amazing.
After the show another member of the audience recognised her and rushed over to find out if this sort of dancing ball would ever be held here in Perth.
Note: it is very much of advantage to have an experienced French wine-drinker looking at the wine list in a restaurant when you want something good to drink.
But Terrible? Why have I written Terrible? Easy…
I teased her that I was going to write a column with this title, so I know she is now going to read the column assiduously. I am not ashamed to get my readers by subterfuge and sneaky tricks…Of course there is nothing at all terrible about her – quite the contrary – but now she’s reading.
Mwa Ha ha ha …
Here in Australia we are just a phone call away from India. And in the case of our house that phone call is at 4:05 every afternoon.
The amazing part is that it is a different caller each time – apart from the silent ones or the hissers – and there is a slightly different pitch thrown with every one.
Today’s was the ” NBN “- supposedly our developing national Broadband Network. It’s an ongoing fustercluck from both the federal government and a private quasi-corporation who pretend it is going to replace wires with optical cables and then up the speed of our internet connections. If it promised to connect us to unicorns and Judge Crater I would give it some serious credence, but as it is…
Now the Indian scammers have picked up on it and are ringing with either threats or promises to get us to allow malware to be installed in our computers. Today’s question revolved around technical work that was going on and what download speed we had. I suspect it was a complex shell game to allow some sort of ” test ” that would install a spyware program looking for passwords.
When the confused girl asked what speed we were experiencing I told her that we generally got about 350 MPH but this fell to 320 with drop tanks. Full throttle and water injection could up it to 385 but if you ran the computer too long at this setting the exhaust manifold would burn away. I was dead serious about this.
I’m not sure I cleared up her confusion.
It is the secret of defusing a terrible situation. For instance…
a. You go to a clothing store with your small daughter – you tell her to wait quietly while you go into the changing booth to try on a new pair of trousers. When you have your old pair of daks off and are just about to pull the new ones on, the flimsy rail holding the curtain across the door of the booth falls down and there you are in your jocks for the entire shop – including the small child – to see.
Remedy? Bust out laughing.
The other saving grace is that eventually the small child will stop telling people of the incident. It’s been about 35 years so far and I am hoping that the forgetfulness will start to set in sometime soon.
b. A random stranger gets out of a car in front of you as you are waiting at the lights and accuses you of giving his girlfriend a heart attack.
Remedy? Bust out laughing.
When the light turns wheel around his car and turn the corner still laughing.
c. A customer in the camera store acts like a Very Important Person for a Very Long Time. And when it comes to pay for his purchase, he demands a discount because he is a Jewish Dentist. A Lithuanian Jewish Dentist.
Remedy? Bust out laughing.
The owner of the store is standing ten feet away, and he, like myself, is Jewish…he is a patient in my dental surgery for many years in the past…To his credit, he gives a stifled squeak and runs upstairs to his office holding his face. To my credit I do not give way and the litvak pays shop price.
d. We all eat potatoes and garlic and cabbage and beans and tacos sometimes. The wise amongst us do not eat them all at the same meal, because there is only so much a gas valve can stand. When the inevitable happens…
Bust out laughing.
And move upwind.