WHAT A (WASTE OF) A DAY THAT WAS

Today I spent several hours playing Play Station 3 and hardly ventured outside at all. The Old Girl is working from home which means that she is using the broadband connection and alternating between her lap top and the desk computer so I didn't get a look in. I had some things to do re the Charity (plans, correspondence etc) but that will have to wait until tomorrow. I had bought on Trade Me a fairly new PS3 game - Medal of Honour Limited Edition. This is set in modern day Afghanistan and is pretty realistic in the weaponry, the landscape (lots of ravines, mountains, caves) and aircraft and vehicles. It is a first person shooter game but can be played on-line against others. I believe that Second does this but I can't be bothered doing that, competing with spotty faced teenagers around the world (hey, they might beat me). Actually I'm quite good at these games as I have a good eye for shooting having won rifle shooting trophies in the past. This game interests me because I am at present reading Shantaram a sort of autobiography by Gregory David Roberts.

Gregory David Roberts

He is a thoroughly dislikable Australian and his adventures seem a bit too fantastic to be real. His 'autobiography' is about as real as Frank Harris' My Life and Loves. Apparently he was a drug addict and armed robber in Australia, imprisoned and escaped to go to Bombay where he lived in a slum, created a free health clinic and got involved with the Indian mafia. In the part I am up to now he travels to Afghanistan and fights with the Mujahedeen against the Russians. The description of Afghanistan mountain country is quite good however and this PS3 game seems to capture that as well.
Overall though it was a wasted day.

Kings By Steely Dan

THE BOY WHO WOULD BE KING

Megalomania is described as a delusional state where a person believes that they are superior to others. They may believe themselves to be a god, a famous person or a gifted athlete. They may feel they have great social, political or other powers. It is generally considered a symptom of other manic or paranoid disorders.
They have:

• Delusional belief of superiority
• Delusions of greatness
• Delusions about one's own power
• Delusions about one's own importance
• They want to be king

Let's look at a living example of a megalomaniac. Fortunately in our blogging community we have at least one to study. The one I choose is Richard (of RBB). Readers of my earlier blog posts will recognise this character as he shot to fame in my feature on Multiple Personality Disorder:

http://grumpyoldmanreturnsnz.blogspot.com/2010/07/is-richard-of-rbb-evil-or-simply.html

Richard of course could provide sufficient research material to fill many text books on disorders but we will limit ourselves here to megalomania.

He started demonstrating symptoms of this disorder at an early age. The children's 'King of the Hill' game was ideally suited to this rascal. Whilst being the second oldest of a family of five brothers he was of sufficient girth to outweigh his older brother and could certainly dominate his younger ones (are you sure there weren't six brothers and he ate one - it certainly looks like he might have? - ed). Living in a hilly part of Wellington in Garden Road easily enabled him to keep his siblings down once he assumed the higher position in the shed (he referred to this as his castle).

At school Richard was not a bully, in fact he defended weaker students from bullies. He of course expected fealty from these weaker students and gathered many around him. This was OK up to a point but the rag-tag bunch of followers did not add much to his mana in the school community. An example is the vassal he recruited who had dropped his cap in the school urinal and then immediately put on his head. The sight of this side-kick (drop-kick? - ed) standing with urine dripping down his neck did not immediately attract new followers.

As he grew older Richard became bolder in his kingdom building plans. At university he formed a club absurdly named The White Sport Coat and Pink Carnation Society, named in honour of Marty Robbins.

Attracting an eclectic bunch of members (you mean weird don't you - ed) Richard set off on a campaign of disruption and annoyance in the university circles. He immediately named himself King which annoyed the other members who believed in a democracy and not a monarchy. Their protestations can be best demonstrated by this excellent out-take from Monty Python's The Holy Grail:

Large Man: Who's that then?

Dead Collector: I dunno. Must be a king.

Large Man: Why?

Dead Collector: He hasn't got shit all over him.

---

King Arthur: I am your king.

Peasant Woman: Well, I didn't vote for you.

King Arthur: You don't vote for kings.

Peasant Woman: Well, how'd you become king, then?

[Angelic music plays... ]

King Arthur: The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. That is why I am your king.

Dennis the Peasant: Listen. Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.

Arthur: Be quiet!

Dennis the Peasant: You can't expect to wield supreme power just 'cause some watery tart threw a sword at you!

---

Arthur: [grabs Dennis] Shut up! Will you shut up?!

Dennis: Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system!

Arthur: [shakes Dennis] Shut up!

Dennis: Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help, help, I'm being repressed!

Arthur: Bloody Peasant!

The other WSCPCS members however were lazy or otherwise preoccupied and let Richard be 'king'

little suspecting the deep underlying roots to this that were in fact megalomania. Having him as king did have its advantages. These advantages unfortunately didn't attract women to the social gatherings they organised which was in fact what they thought the club was all about. No, the main advantage came at the time of dissolution of the club. The disruption and annoyance programme was having an effect. Ultimately the club came to the notice of the High Heid Yins of the university and was called to a meeting with the Vice Chancellor and his lackeys. The other members suddenly recalled that they had important meetings to attend like Marilyn Waring's lecture on Feminism and its importance in Post Industrial British Society and Richard as King (or as the club charter recorded as President) attended alone. He (the club) was charged with a variety of misdeeds including threatening to burn and torture foreign students. In Richard's defence I would like to say that that was outrageous as to the best of my knowledge some of Richard's best friends were foreign and he only advocated using them for landfill. The outcome was that the WSCPCS was compulsorily disbanded, the first and only club ever to have been so at Victoria University.

Richard, now dethroned, went off to the wilderness (Christchurch and Taumaranui where he unsuccessfully mounted a campaign against the Cosmopolitan Club to let women into the bars - he was lonely and mistakenly assumed that as Taumaranui was in the King Country that he would be more appreciated).

After a few more years of drifting around, writing odd proclamations that he sent to his previous lackeys, vassals, serfs and fellow WSCPCS members Richard discovered the internet. Here was a perfect vehicle to use as an outlet for his ambitions. Blogging was the perfect instrument to broadcast himself with the ability to expand his various delusions into personalities (see Multiple Personality Disorder) which he used to recruit new damaged and needy people around himself. After carefully nurturing these acolytes he began to assert more control over them in subtle ways that become more unsubtle as they were further enmeshed in his web. The most recent example of this is in his bestowment of honours to contributors to his blog world who acquiesced to his belief system. Fortunately some blog members refused to accept his dubious honours and it appears that a revolution is forthcoming. What will happen to Richard if this happens? No doubt he will move on to another fiefdom as it is unlikely that his megalomania will disappear. 

Now they lay his body down

Sad old men who run this town

I still recall the way

He led the charge and saved the day

Blue blood and rain

I can hear the bugle playin'

CHORUS:

We seen the last of Good King Richard

Ring out the past his name lives on

Roll out the bones and raise up your pitcher

Raise up your glass to Good King John

While he plundered far and wide

All his starving children cried

And though we sung his fame

We all went hungry just the same

He meant to shine

To the end of the line

REACHER, JACK REACHER

Why do women love the Lee Childs character Jack Reacher?

I was in a shop the other day and overheard two young women breathlessly talking about the new Jack Reacher novel. The Old Girl reads the Lee Child books and, as she drives to Auckland a lot (2/12 hours) she has taken to listening to talking books in the car and has borrowed several of the Reacher ones.
Is it because he is seen as a protector of women against predators? He is big, courteous but with the ability to maim, kill, destroy without conscience when necessary. Is this a primeval thing? Probably. The Reacher character borrows from the dark brooding anti heroes like Heathcliffe in Wuthering Heights and from the mysterious strangers in Mills and Boon romantic novels.

This is mixed in with the action and intrigue from novels like the Bourne series in an easy to read format. A winning formula.
I have read a few I must admit and, when stuck in the car with The Old Girl, have listened to a couple. They are OK in a 'switch-the-brain-off" kind of way.
What worries me though is his underpants or lack of them. For those who don't know this character, Jack Reacher is a loner. He is an ex military policemen (a Major) who is travelling USA by bus or hitchhiking.

He stays in cheap motels. He only uses cash to buy things and doesn't have any luggage. This means that every two to three days he buys a new set of clothes from cheap clothes stores "cheaper than having them laundered". He buys shirts, jeans and coats and disposable toothbrushes. He never buys underpants! Either he doesn't wear any at all (no wonder he throws his jeans away) or he re-uses the same pair over and over.
 Perhaps he wears big black flappy ones like Richard (of RBB)? 

GONE AGAIN

For Second Fiddle who seems to have gone again.

Patti Smith - Smells Like Teen Spirit

FOR NICOLA

Note: the video seen in: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x3t7jg_patti-smith-smells-like-teen-spirit_music is great but I couldn't post it properly.
See if you can check it out.

Patti+Smith+-+Smells+Like+Teen+Spirit

video_player_embed_code_text

Guess Who - Glamour Boy - Burton Cummings

For Richard(of RBB).

LIVING IN THE PAST

I spent most of today in 1979. Have you ever done that? Although you obviously compress the time a lot, in this case down to at least half a day you still need a bit of time on your hands to do justice to the year you are remembering otherwise it is just an exercise in flashbacks. I had plenty of time today as with my arm still recovering I couldn't play golf, garden, do housework or anything remotely strenuous so spent most of the day in an armchair looking out the window. I'm quite accomplished at doing this as I spent most of my university days staring out of the library window at Wellington harbour - a perfect time-wasting view that is.
 It being Valentine's Day today my thoughts drifted back to the various Valentine celebrations I've had and locked onto February 14th 1979. I had recently moved into a flat in Bruce avenue, Brooklyn. Being a typical Wellington house this had about a hundred steps going straight up from the road which was manageable for grocery items but not good for refrigerators, beds and heavy furniture. Luckily I was sharing with four others and it was an established flat so I only had my bed to manoeuvre up the steps. Whilst it was a double it had removable legs and was a separate mattress and base design so was pretty easy for a fit chap like I was then. I worked at Murray Roberts driving the delivery truck (Richard (of RBB and Second Fiddle have also done that job) and was used to carrying heavy boxes of beer up steep steps around the suburbs.
Collecting the mail that day I discovered a Valentine card addressed to me.

 It was very distinctive with the writing being done in a 'poison-pen' style with cut out newspaper lettering. This was on the address on the envelope as well. The card was risqué and the content suggestive.

 I put it on the mantelpiece and when my girlfriend came around that evening she commented on it and asked who'd sent it. I had assumed that it was from her and that she was 'winding me up' but she did seem a little bit jealous so it left me uncertain as to the identity of the sender. I didn't dwell on it too much as I was perfectly happy with my girlfriend. We had been together for a year at this stage and the relationship was to last another two years although it finished badly. After the break-up it sort of continued off and on for another six years. We travelled to Scotland together in 1985 for my sister's wedding.

 The thought of the card set me off on dwelling on 1979. I remember it being a great year in a kind of Salad Days way with lots of loving and a nice undemanding job. When I reminisce or daydream it is like old Tom from Waiting for God who would become totally absorbed in a fantasy and could spend an entire afternoon climbing the Matterhorn or fighting in the Crimea.

The Flying Car

BLOW WIND AND CRACK YOUR CHEEKS...

….rage! blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout

Till you have drench’d our steeples, drown’d the cocks!

You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,

Vaunt – couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts ….

No, not Richard (of RBB) after a night at the Bombay Curry Parlour, but the mini cyclone we are having as a follow up to its big sister of two weeks ago. Rain is pelting down and the wind is getting fierce. Two weeks ago the cyclone washed out a bridge on the road out to the Heads and caused many slips and road obstructions. Today we may see more of the same. I've been up since 3AM. I couldn't sleep because of a sore and swollen arm. One of the many scratches and cuts from my gardening endeavours has become infected. As we do live a bit far away from town I didn't want to risk blood poisoning limiting my ability to drive into the doctors if I left it to the last minute so went in this morning. Sure enough there is an infection and I have anti-biotic and anti-inflammatory medication to take. Driving home through the rain reminded me of the terror drive last fortnight and I wondered if I would get home. Fortunately the storm is not as bad but it is a further wake-up call. We may have to consider getting a boat with a motor as kayaking into town would take several hours and would not be recommended if sick or injured.

SHEESH!

Friday - the day I can do whatever I like. I woke up with my back feeling a bit sore, the result of yesterday's exertions weeding the garden, particularly the steep front part. Acting like a 20 year old didn't help either what with clambering up and over the sides of the trailer to stamp down the rubbish; doing the same with the large rubbish bins at the recycling centre; manoeuvring the fully laden trailer by hand to position it close to the bins (a bit narrow to back with the car and I only had one eye to use) and unloading what seemed like tonnes of vegetation. After breakfast (poached egg on toasted home-made bread) and a voltaren tablet  I felt a bit better so decided to do the lawns.

We only have two small lawns, one an elevated one at the back of the house and the other at the front of the house below the deck and in front of the native bush section that slopes steeply to the road. I'm used to much larger lawns so I never bought a power lawn mower for this place, leaving the good old Masport at the rental property. Last Christmas I bought a small hand-mower at Bunnings and, after using it once and realising that it was crap I returned it for a refund. I then stupidly went to a lawnmower shop and instead of buying a motormower I bought another handmower. This was a bit more robust than the Bunnings pile of crap but after several uses now it has beeen relegated to the back of the shed. The lawns were about knee high (result of rain, heat and laziness) so the handmower wouldn't have a hope in hell of getting through it so out came the weed-eater or line-trimmer depending on which hemisphere you come from. I bought this many years ago and it has given me reasonable service even though bits have fallen off over the years. Gone now are the safety guard, the 'bump' mechanism and the the control handle which makes it a dangerous and frustrating piece of equipment to use - but hey - the motor still goes well. Because the 'bump' has gone (the spring flew off into the bushes ages ago) and it was a particularly useless mechanism anyway, the line runs out about every two minutes. This necessitates pulling the line feeder apart, threading new line, reassembling and starting the motor up again (at least I turn it off each time).

Frustrating. I got both lawns done eventually which took a couple of hours managing to avoid slashing any vital bits of my anatomy and only scarring my Redband gumboots (a topic for another post soon) and vowed to get rid of the old line-trimmer and buy another one. I looked them up on the internet and would you believe it, most of the brands are still the same technology as my current one I bought 15 years ago. They still have the stupid 'bump' feeding device. Idiotic. Doing some further research I discovered something called the Little Juey which has an amazingly simple to use and apparently effective line feeding mechanism which takes seconds to replace a line. Brilliant I thought. The only trouble is that the Little Juey is an electric line-trimmer. I want a petrol one. I discovered however that Little Juey sell the line feeding mechanism (about $80) that can be fitted to other brands. This means that I may have to buy a new petrol line-trimmer, also buy a Little Juey mechanism, dismantle the new machine, throw away the fitted 'bump' mechanism and fit the Little Juey one. Well. How stupid is that. Why can't these companies work out a way of getting together. Sheesh!

EXHAUSTED

Having procrastinated over doing the garden for a while I thought that I had better get it done whilst the Old Girl is away so she will be pleased with me when she gets back (Nicola take note). No matter how hard I looked out the window it wasn't raining and didn't remotely look like it would so at about 10AM I made a start. Weeds had taken hold after a hot and wet period so I put the gloves on and dealt to as many as I could see at the edges of paths, in the lawn and in the gardens. I filled several barrow loads which I then lifted and tipped into the covered trailer I use. The first few goes at this is OK and I feel strong and manly lifting the barrow up over my head and tipping it into the trailer. As time goes on though I start to feel 'oldman'ly and start to move a bit slower. Next was the convulvulus, an almost aptly named invasive creeper that has started to strangle the flax and natives in the front garden. This took a couple of hours of pulling, tearing (which included clothes, muscles and eyes) to remove and put into said trailer. Having removed the creeper the exposed bushes and trees looked like they needed a haircut so I cut, trimmed, chopped and slashed until they got the message. The resultant debris went into the trailer. The trailer by now was full to over-flowing which mean that all of my 80 kilos was used to good effect jumping up and down on the mass to allow me to put a tarpaulin cover on. By this time it was past 2PM and of course I had stupidly been working through the hottest part of the day. No wonder sweat was streaming down my face, stinging my eyes and the many cuts and abrasions I had given myself. I hooked up the trailer and drove off to the tip. The tip near us is just a recycling area with large bins which for $13.50 you have the privilege of emptying your garden waste into. Getting the stuff out of the trailer was much more difficult than putting it in because some idiot had jumped up and down on the vegetation thereby entangling it and, that c**t of a creeper weed had tied itself to every large bit of tree, bush, thistle or weed that was in there. By the end of this I was drenched, cut, one-eyed (I managed to poke a stick in one eye which made reversing the trailer a bit of an ordeal) and tired. I don't drink much beer, in fact hardly ever, but on the way home when I stopped at the superette to pick up provisions for the falafel in pita bread I am having for my dinner, I bought a 6-pack of Beck's (the only 6-pack you are ever likely to have - ed). Now, after a swim and a shower and two bottles of Beck's I am feeling good. You know TSB that lovely mellow feeling you get when you are tired......

SWINGING IN THE RAIN

...what a wonderful feeling...

I played golf in the rain today. What is happening to me? I'm not a golf fanatic but I do want to get my official handicap down and the only way to do that is to play 18 holes with a recognised member who signs your card. On Wednesdays the LOB's play (Lovely Old Blokes or Lazy Old Bastards - take your pick) in a kind of casual tournament. I turned up at 8AM with a wary eye on the weather and we headed out only for it to piss down for the next couple of hours. Bastard! I played crap golf asking myself what the hell I was doing out there and the resulting score-sheet is unlikely to reduce the handicap by much if at all. Getting home saturated and cold (which was actually quite welcome after the last week of sweltering temperatures) I had a long hot bath and liked having the excuse not to do the gardening because of the rain (different rules apply for gardening than golf you know).

CAN AMERICANS ACT?

You wouldn't think so if you watch the miserable offerings regurgitated up to us from Hollywood whether they are Oscar nominations or not. The 'machine' churns out egocentric drivel that are vehicles for the 'stars'.  An example of this is Valkerie the fascinating story of  one of the assassination plots against Adolph Hitler. This was covered extremely well by Operation Valkerie a German film that was well acted, paced and presented. It told the story well without sensationalising it. Recently Hollywood used the story for that crap actor Tom Cruise to peddle his wares. It was a disgraceful example of self-aggrandisement. Bloody egos! It would be easy to think that the Americans cannot act if you limit yourself to watching block-buster films or the usual television offerings. We didn't watch much television over the Christmas and New Year period and I've only just again been channel surfing. I found a programme on the Comedy Channel named The Green Room. It is a kind of panel show in front of a live audience that has actors and comedians discussing their craft in a humorous way. It is quite good but the host Paul Provenza hasn't got the wit and intelligence of say Stephen Fry who hosts the superb British panel show QI. Nevertheless the show I watched impressed me with the largely unknown actors who were guests. They weren't perfect but they were a hell of a lot better then the 'names' we are presented with in the top films and shows. So where do these actors act? Well. they turn up regularly in TV shows like Law & Order or sometimes as extras or in minor roles in films but mostly I guess they are still doing stand-up comedy or acting off-Broadway.

I saw an off-Broadway play a few years ago. It was A Moon for the Misbegotten (Eugene O'Neill) in a small and intimate theatre and it was excellent. It had some British actors in it (Colm Meaney and Eve Best) who were very accomplished but I was particularly impressed by Kevin Spacey playing the lead character. I'm not saying that Spacey was better than Best or Meaney but As I've seen Spacey in a few films (Hollywood) I guess I was expecting a 'going through the motions' approach. The difference was striking and I liked his acting. I must try to not be so fixed in my opinions in the future. (Yeah right - ed)

FALSE PRETENCES

I was looking at The Old Girl's hair this morning and was thinking that it still looks as good as it did when we got together 23 years ago (it was our anniversary yesterday - celebrated with Roederer Champagne - her favourite). Admittedly she does get it highlighted but it is still full and rich and she has it cut nicely. Her nice haircuts cost a couple of hundred dollars. She refuses to go to the mobile barber that I have recommended. The mobile barber operates out of a camper-van and only charges fifteen dollars. Anyway, to the false pretences.

Twenty three years ago when we met I had a head full of dark brown curly hair. It was shorter than I used to wear it at University but was still thick and rich. The Old Girl used to like running her fingers through it and she used to say that she would like to have hair like mine.
Twenty three years later I'm sure she's glad that her wish didn't come true.

Today my hair is grey and while it is still rich and thick at the back and sides it has rapidly disappeared in the front and into the middle. I feel that  I misrepresented myself to her at the beginning with my nice curly hair and that under the consumers guarantees act she may have a case for asking for her money back.

I am always amazed to see earlier photographs of balding men to see how often they had nice, rich curly or flowing hair while the guys who looked like they had a dead possum on their heads, when in their 50's still have a full head of hair. Weird.

GETTING BURNT....

... and not just by the sun.

In New Zealand, skin cancers outrank other cancers by about 4 to one. Each year 67,000 new registrations are reported. More than 300 New Zealanders die each year from skin cancer and we have the highest rate of melanoma in the world. Skin cancer has been estimated to cost over 33 million dollars a year.

New Zealand's high skin cancer rates are due to:

·      the high levels of UV rays during daylight savings months

·      low ozone levels over New Zealand

·      our outdoor lifestyle and tendency to ‘seek the sun'

·      the high proportion of people with fair skin

Yet, skin cancer is readily preventable through covering up when in the sun and using SP15 minimum sunscreen. Most peple know this as there have been many campaigns run by the Cancer Society over many years and of course good common sense. Parents should slap on sunscreen on their kids through all summer months and adults playing or working in the sun should do so also. So why don’t they? Have you checked out the price of sunscreen in the shops and supermarkets? For the price of one small container you can feed a family of six for several days. I am not surprised that it is not seen much in supermarket trolleys and why it makes up such a small space on supermarket shelves – sometimes being hard to find. So why are sunscreens so expensive? In a UK investigation Kate Clark, spokesperson for Ambre Solaire said it is down to expensive research. 'We spend millions of pounds on research and development every year, upgrading technology and looking for new types of filters, textures and formulations. We want to give the consumer a product that is completely safe but also something that they enjoy using.' However, Ian White, consultant dermatologist at St John's Institute of Dermatology in London, says there is no justification for such expense. 'The cost of these products is exorbitant,' he says. 'Sunscreens are not expensive to manufacture but the companies which make them use the fact that we must buy them for the sake of our health to their advantage….As far as research goes, there are just 12 active ingredients on the approved European list, out of which four or five are particularly popular - so there are limited combinations which all manufacturers must use, anyway.”

Basically what he and other critics are saying is that the drug companies argument on having to recoup expensive research costs is a crock of shit. The active ingredients have been known for a long time and have been in use for many years. Basically they keep the price up so high because they can as it is a product that is needed.

What I can’t understand is that as it costs the country so much in direct and indirect (lost working days eg.) costs why isnt sunscreen subsidised?

WAITANGI

I drove up to Waitangi for the day yesterday. It was a glorious day with very little traffic on the roads (media boycott maybe) and I had a nice drive and pleasant afternoon there. I went up to watch my sister's 'band' playing. Their name is Sula and they have played at the Waitangi weekend celebrations for the last 6 years. They are a family group being my sister (guitar), brother-in-law (flute), two nieces (harps) and third niece (roadie and guitar). This year only one niece was there and a ring-in (the harp teacher). They play celtic folk music and do it very well. The venue is the covered stage in the old treaty house grounds which look out to sea. It is a beautiful setting in bush and  tall native trees. It was magic.

SO CALL ME AN OLD FUDDY DUDDY BUT......

.... I am concerned at the content of the media that children are watching. This garbage is deliberately aimed at children no matter how they dress it up or pretend that it is for an over 18 market. The reality is that sub-14 y.o.'s are the big spenders on music and the watchers of cartoons, comedies, vampire films etc. on TV and in cinemas. Cartoons like The Family Guy and music videos put out by the likes of Rihanna and Beyonce are salacious and with adult themes. They are sexualising our children and I do not believe that is a good thing. A friend of ours lets her 4 y.o. watch The Family Guy and says that this is his favourite programme. Has she watched this programme? I doubt if she has closely watched it. It has themes of violence, underage sex, deviant sex, bestiality to name a few. The lead character, the father, is a social misfit in a dysfunctional family dressed up to be funny and appealing. It is funny, I'll give it that and apparently (I didn't notice it) there is a parental guidance warning at the beginning of the show. I checked on the internet and in the USA it is banned from screening before 9PM. In NZ it screens on SKY's Comedy channel. I watched it at 9AM. A lot of people comment that this is OK, that parents should tell their children what is right and wrong and to just get over it. I don't agree and, for once, I will support the Christians who are trying to stop a lot of this.

FOR NICOLA

"Note the correct use of the asterisk"

Just when I thought I was out...they pull me back in.

I had thought that I would get out of being a project leader for the charity this year. I scoped out a planning document for them to use and identified all key positions and their responsibilities. They asked me to recommend a leader and I couldn't think of a suitable one so (foolishly?) volunteered my services again. Its OK at this point of time but in a few months it will end up occupying a lot of my time again. There you go.

REMEMBER THIS?

http://www.nzonscreen.com/title/elephunk-in-my-soup-1984

I couldn't work out a way to directly post it.
Highlight the link and right click. Click on 'Go to Address'

Play it on Lo profile for best effect.