PETONE WANDERINGS

I met with Robert and Richard today - Robert at his home and Richard wandering around Petone.

Robert was laid as he ... sorry, it's best to rephrase that as Robert is a Catholic who believes that sex is a mortal sin ... Robert was laid up due to a fall off a ladder leading to him breaking a bone in his heel. Poor thing. He didn't elaborate what he was doing up the ladder but I suspect one of two things:

1. He was trying to reach Heaven like those Tower of Babel jokers and his god tossed him down

 or

2. He was trying to look up Mary the virgin's skirts and she tossed him down (my apologies for that expression 'tossed' as it can conjure up sexual connotations for sexually frustrated schoolboys).

He's off work and off his feet (which makes a change from off his head) for a month so I guess we can expect many well-structured, carefully researched and entreating posts from the discombobulated fellow. Let's hope that he gets well soon.

Richard was driving along Petone foreshore when he spotted me walking along. I'd left Robert's place in Moera and was walking along to get to Jackson Street and then to the railway station. Richard 'parked' his car about 6 feet from the gutter and offered me a lift. He said that he was off to Bunnings to get a life, or that's what I thought he said. "About time" I replied at which he looked at me strangely - a default setting for him I think. It turned out that he meant that he was going to buy a light - a stand-up lamp - because Shelley, like Lynn prefers to not have overhead lights on or indeed any sort of lights in the house. Quite sensible I guess when it comes to her and The Old Girl having to look at us I guess.

It was lucky that Richard spotted me walking along as he needed a bit of help driving his car given that Shelley wasn't with him so I had to alert him to: old ladies crossing the street; red lights; pedestrians on footpaths; and any sort of trucks on the road. We made it to Bunnings despite interference from some Japanese woman in his car who kept interrupting and jabbering away in what I assume was Japanese. I thought that Richard had a Japanese woman held hostage in the boot at first but he told me that she is in the car's system somewhere and he can't find her. Weird!

Richard managed to purchase a lamp and I bought a light bulb for The Old Girl before we went shopping at Bin Inn and the UK shop where I bought bread making mixes at the first and boxes of Irish tea at the second before Richard bought me a coffee and a muffin. He then drove me all the way home in Wellington which was kind of him. 

On the drive around Petone and to Wellington I was able to alert Richard to: cows on the hills; boats in the harbour; trains on the rails; and many other dangers to driving that he might otherwise have missed. I worry though about him getting home so will keep and eye on the news.

ENOUGH SAID

 

JESUS CHRIST!

I wasted half the afternoon yesterday going to see a crappy film titled Project Hail Mary. Hail Mary indeed or, more appropriately - Holy Shit!

I can't blame The Old Girl even though she kind of liked it as it was my choice. Generally I can't stand those space and Marvel comic films like Star Wars etc. but do rate the great films like Stanley Kubrick's 2001 A Space Odyssey and Ridley Scott's Alien which have decent narratives and grown up themes and execution.

For me I'd rather have seriousness on the one hand or complete farce on the other but hate the flippancy that modern film writers and directors think that their audience want ... hold on, they are correct I guess as a 73 year old man who has spent most of his life reading good literature and watching great films certainly isn't numbered amongst their target audience. Mea culpa.

Anyway, I hadn't seen any trailers for the film and had only picked up on a passing comment in the media that it was a 'groundbreaking' film worth seeing. I should have been more circumspect. OK, it had some amazing cinematography and special effects but AI tends to take the 'wow' out of this nowadays. What it also had though was some Quentin Tarantino-type rip-offs from older and better films like the afore-mentioned 2001 A Space Odyssey and Alien along with Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Like with Tarantino it's more rip-off than homage.

Also the directors and writers (I don't know about the original novelist) decided to dumb down the 'alien' character and the principal (American of course) character in the way of those crappy TV space 'comedies' like Alf, My Favourite Martian, 3rd Rock from the Sun etc. You know the ones I mean.

Americans always seem to go to the lowest common denominator as they are afraid that their dumb audiences will pan the movie if it's above their heads.

This film (movie to the Americans and adoptees of American culture) is about a last-ditched space mission named Project Hail Mary after the 'Hail Mary' pass in American, to try to save Earth because alien microbes are eating up the sun. Well, with a story-line like that and being about as silly as Robert's Catechism I guess the 'Hail Mary' name is appropriate.
School science teacher Dr Ryland Grace (get the allusion?) wakes up from an induced coma on this spacecraft, with no memory of why he is aboard. The rest of the crew are dead, and Grace must now figure out how he got there and how to rescue humanity.
The whole thing is really silly, although it tries to be serious, and shoots itself in the foot with the dumbing down - making a far superior and advanced alien out as a silly pet using that dumb dialogue that cats and dogs are supposed to use on YouTube videos. I can't be arsed reporting on this garbage to you - go and see it for yourself.

Richard might because he has an appreciation for low brow films and Robert could well be hoodwinked into seeing it because of the title.

HOMO ERECTUS

"I'll also need to do more practice on Anthropology today" - said Richard in his latest post.

Yes we agree, it does need more work.

 

A GOOD WALK WASN'T SPOILED *

Today I decided to play a few holes of golf and to test out how easy it would be getting to and from Berhampore by bus.

The Island Bay bus can be boarded just around the corner from where I live and there is a stop on Island Bay Parade quite close to the Mornington Golf Club where I have my golf clubs stored.

A couple of weeks ago I took the clubs (full set) and a smaller carrying golf bag along with my golfing shoes (just another pair of Sketchers really) to the club and stored them in a lock up cabinet I have there.

All good so far. 

I caught the bus which arrived about a minute after I got to the bus stop and noted that an Island Bay bus leaves every 8 minutes or so. It's obviously a popular one that runs between Island Bay and Johnsonville so covers a good stretch of the city. I enjoyed the journey which took about 35 minutes.

As I neared the stop near the golf course I remembered that I hadn't taken the padlock key to my locker with me. It was in the car. Bummer!

I stayed on the bus to the terminal at Island Bay and decided to walk back home so as to at least get some exercise done. The distance was about 9 kms but as I had bought some comfortable wide fitting shoes it was no bother. 

I'm not sure how long I walked for as I checked out the Newtown op shops and stopped for a coffee and a scone on the way but I guess the walk itself would have taken about an hour and a half.

I enjoyed the walk even if I didn't get a chance to practice a few holes in anticipation of having another round with Robert. He seems to have gone off the radar though so I guess that doesn't matter.

* The phrase "Golf is a good walk spoiled" is a famous, often-quoted sentiment—falsely attributed to Mark Twain and sometimes Oscar Wilde—that captures the frustration of the game, suggesting the annoyance of playing ruins the pleasure of walking in nature. The exact origin is unknown, but it is often credited to "the Allens" around 1905.

STRANGER THAN FICTION

.

The Pentagon denied threatening the Vatican during a late January meeting with the Holy See’s then-envoy to the U.S., as Pope Leo XIV has warned against the growing use of military action in recent months.

The Pentagon’s policy office head, Elbridge Colby, met with Cardinal Christophe Pierre, the Vatican’s former diplomat to the U.S., on Jan. 22 at the Pentagon, during which he warned the then-envoy that the U.S. military has the “power to do whatever it wants — and that the Church had better take its side,” 

The outlet, citing unnamed sources, reported that a U.S. official raised the threat of the “Avignon Papacy,” referencing the period from 1309 to 1376, when France’s King Philip IV captured the Pope and subsequent popes resided in Avignon instead of Rome.

         -THE HILL Filip Timotija - 04/09/26 

This reminded me of Joseph Heller's novel Catch 22 where Chaplain Tappman is ordered by Colonel Cathcart to lead group prayers before bombing missions.

 Cathcart was obsessed with getting his name and photograph in The Saturday Evening Post and viewed the prayers as a "feather in his cap" to advance his career. He wanted the prayers to be "light and snappy" and insisted that the chaplain exclude any mention of God, death, or the "Valley of Death".  Chaplain Tappman told Cathcart that prayers made under those strict conditions was nonsense so Colonel Cathcart eventually abandoned the idea as it was proving to be too difficult.
The scene highlighted Colonel Cathcart's narcissistic, self-serving nature and his view of religion as a mere tool for personal gain, rather than a spiritual matter.

It's easy to see the parallels between this scenario and President Trump via Secretary of Defence (War) Hegseth demanding that the Catholic Church takes the side of the Pentagon and the pope and his envoys telling him to fuck off. Trump, like Colonel Cathcart, has a narcissistic, self-serving nature and his view of religion is as a mere tool for personal gain, rather than a spiritual matter.

Watch this space.

3 ALARM FIRE

 No, not the 3 fire engines that raced up to one of the schools in our street this morning. That turned out to be a false alarm.

The emergency I'm referring to is that old geezer from Wainuiomata who is posting about being neglected.

He not only posts about this but when no-one bothers to place a comment he assumes that no-one has read his whiny posts and then comments himself - yes, about being neglected.

It's sad really but at least here, in Thorndon, we have the fire engines to look at.

Maybe Richard could call 111 and ask for the fire brigade to come and rescue him.

INTERVIEW # 37

According to the Gospel of Matthew (27:62-66), Roman soldiers were placed at Jesus’ tomb to prevent the body from being stolen. After an angel appeared and the resurrection occurred, they were bribed by chief priests to lie and claim they fell asleep.

Well "who was telling the truth?" I ask.

According to the account in Matthew 28:11-15, the Roman guards were telling the truth about the miraculous events (an empty tomb and the presence of an angel) to the chief priests, who then bribed the guards to lie. The priests instructed them to claim the disciples stole the body while they slept.

The Guards' Story: Some of the guard reported "all the things that had happened" (likely the resurrection/empty tomb) to the chief priests.
The Priests' Story: The chief priests, fearing the implications of a resurrection, paid the soldiers a "large sum of money" to lie and say the disciples stole the body, promising to protect them if Pilate found out they failed in their duty.
The Truth: The Bible indicates the guards were compelled to lie by the priests, making the priests' story of theft an engineered conspiracy to hide the resurrection.
Historical Context: If they were Roman soldiers, admitting to falling asleep on duty (which the lie required) was punishable by death, suggesting that it they were coerced by the bribe and the priests' promise of protection it must have been a hell of a big bribe.

Some things don't add up in this.

Either there really was an angel and the chief priests knew this which beggars the question - "how come the priests didn't automatically take the side of Jesus, God and the angels given that such proof would have been so powerful or, if there was no angel then why would the soldiers have lied about that initially unless to get a bribe. Maybe Robert and his gang know but they don't seem to be telling us.

As we haven't had an interview for a while (and I know you readers like the interview series) I thought it opportune to bring in some of the actors who featured in this who have never been consulted before ... yes, the soldiers (or two of them anyway).

Let me introduce to you to Centurion Spurious Bogusmis and Optio Riccardo Agrippa (aka a gripper by his so-called friends) who were on guard duty that weekend accompanied by a host of other soldiers of various ranks who for some reason don't want to be identified. Well, bugger that we at The Curmudgeons Inc.ⓒ think so here are their ranks and names:

Praefectus Castrorum Festerus Scrotum
Tribune Angusticlavii Biggus Bummus
Primi Ordine Maxximum Gayuss
Pilus Prior Littlus Pricus

Fuck 'em we say.

The Curmudgeon: Welcome Centurion Spurious Bogusmis  and Optio Riccardo Agrippa to The Curmudgeon's Interview Series #37.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Ave and thanks The Curmudgeon

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: Yer, ta The Curmudgeon

The Curmudgeon: No problems guys and bonum est tam bonos et probos viros hic habere, et, liceat mihi dicere, vos in illis uniformibus pulchre spectatis.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Er, thanks I think Curmudgeon but just to let you know we aren't gay - the little short skirts they make us wear and the sculpted vests aren't our choice they were designed by the head honcho Legatus Legionis Benedictus.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: Yer, ta Curmudgeon.

The Curmudgeon: Ha ha - I see what you mean and once seen never forgotten - um, Centurion Spurious Bogusmis - would you mind not uncrossing your legs there ... that's better.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Can we call you 'TC' Curmudgeon?

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: Yer, ta TC

The Curmudgeon: Sure, no problem. How about I call you guys 'Spurious' and  'Tugger'?

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Fine by me TC but I think Agrippa would prefer his nickname 'Gripper' than 'Tugger'

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: Yer, ta TC

The Curmudgeon: Ha ha - I see what you mean - Gripper it is then. Say Spurious, he doesn't say much does he.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: No, not really, he's only an optio and quite frankly never made it into the 'P' classes at school. That and the fact that  he had an accident once trying to play a double bass and a violin at the same time.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: Yer, ta Spurious.

The Curmudgeon: Oh dear. A case of domesticus violinus was it?

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: I was led to believe that you do good jokes TC ...

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: Yer TC.

The Curmudgeon: ... um (embarassed) ... sorry about that - sorry Gripper. Moving on - being Easter Sunday I thought it might be a good idea to ask you what happened back then and how you were involved.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Gee thanks TC. You know, no-one has ever asked us for our side of things - they just assumed that we were venal and or stupid.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: ...

The Curmudgeon: (looking sideways at Optio 'Gripper') Yeah, I wondered about that. Reading up on the events I note that the request for guards actually came from the Jewish chief priests, but was authorised by Pontius Pilate, who said, "You have a guard".

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: That's right. Those smarmy priests had a plan and even though they could have done the job themselves they seemed to want me and the boys there.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: ... Yer and one of them put his hand up my pteruges. Bloody pedo.

The Curmudgeon: Mmm - there's still a lot of that about. Did you know that based on a 2022 report submitted to the Royal Commission on Abuse in Care, 14% of New Zealand Catholic diocesan clergy (182 out of 1,274) were accused of abusing children and adults between 1950 and 2022? These allegations involved various forms of misconduct, with almost half reported as involving sexual harm, often occurring in schools and institutions.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Bloody pedos.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: ...

The Curmudgeon: I wondered about that request from the priests but don't quite get why Pontius approved it.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: It was the Seal TC.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: ...

The Curmudgeon: The seal?

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: No, the Seal.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: ...

The Curmudgeon: Oh, I see - an official Seal.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: (Under his breath: It took you some time) The guards were tasked with protecting a Roman Seal placed over the tomb, which would have meant severe punishment (including death) for failure.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: ... Where's the bog?

The Curmudgeon: Mmm? Oh, down the passage to your left.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: So we weren't going to bloody stuff up that duty I tell you.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: ... Have you any coffee?

The Curmudgeon: (Jeez) Yes, help yourself in the kitchen. There's some extra strong stuff in the big jar.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Those smarmy priests though played a double bluff game. They spread the rumour based on some silly old religious nonsense that some angel came down from heaven and opened up the tomb to let Jesus out.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: Good coffee TC. I need the bog again though.

The Curmudgeon: (Sheesh!) You know where it is it's ...

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: Nah, that one's blocked now. Have you got another one?

The Curmudgeon: (Bloody hell!) Yes, downstairs off that small room to your right.

The Curmudgeon: I read in Matthew 28:4 reports that the guards were so afraid of the angel that they "shook and became like dead men".

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Yeah right. It's Roman soldiers you're talking about not bloody boy scouts or the Garden Road gang. There's no way some winged nonce in a nightie was going to scare us even if it did exist.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: Yer right TC.

The Curmudgeon: But the priests didn't want anyone to know that an angel saved Jesus and let him out. What was that about?

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: It was the double bluff TC. They made that silly story up and the other story saying that we fell asleep and didn't see Jesus's pals take his body away so when we woke up we made up the angel story.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: ...

The Curmudgeon: Yes but ...

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: ... It really was a triple bluff TC. The priests then said that they bribed us to say that we fell asleep and didn't see an angel or the pals taking Jesus away. See?

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: ...

The Curmudgeon: No ...

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Well maybe a quadruple bluff then. Look TC. We were soldiers bound by Roman law. We had to protect the Seal no matter who or what was behind it. If we let someone in or out it was punishable by death. If we went to sleep it was punishable by death. If we took a bribe it was punishable by death. If we saw some non Roman god or angel and said so it was punishable by death. We couldn't win any which way. See?

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: I'm hungry.

The Curmudgeon: OK, so what happened next?

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: They killed us.

The Curmudgeon: What! Who killed you?

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Pontius Pilate on recommendation by the priests.

The Curmudgeon: How, what, why ...?

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: They crucified us of course. No-one wanted the real truth to get out.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: zzzzzzzzzzz

The Curmudgeon: What! What real truth?

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Don't you read your own or The Religious Curmudgeon's blogs TC? Remember Interview #8? Look here's a link for you: INTERVIEW # 8

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: zzzzzzzzzzzz

The Curmudgeon: Oh, thats right. Jesus didn't die at all. It was all a cooked up plan.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: A cocked up plan if you ask me TC

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: zzzzzzzzzz

The Curmudgeon: Truth is stranger than fiction I guess.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: The truth is out there TC.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: zzzzzzzzzz

The Curmudgeon: I think I've heard that before.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Agent Fox Mulder from The X-Files. I gave him that line.

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: Where's the bog again?

The Curmudgeon: This is doing my head in but thanks for coming along Centurion Spurious Bogusmis but next time, leave Optio Riccardo Agrippa at home wherever that is.

Centurion Spurious Bogusmis: Thanks TC. It was good to have the opportunity to put our side of the story across. Ave!

Optio Riccardo Agrippa: zzzzzzzzzzzz

RICHARD WAS WRONG ...

 ... Well, there's nothing new there.

He's been banging on for ages about there being raccoons in Thorndon.

He's wrong.

Here's the proof:

Photo taken from front window.

They seem to be cats.

READING MATTERS

It's Easter weekend, an extended international public holiday event to celebrate the festival of Eastre, the Anglo-Saxon goddess who symbolises hare and egg. Eastre is often spelt Eostre, Oestre or Ostara. Ostara is also a northern European name for Astarte, which means “womb” and is another name for Venus, the goddess of love, passion, and creativity. The Christians of course stole this festival and attached their own gods to it. Nothing new there.

AI Overview on the internet says this:

Easter is officially about the resurrection of Jesus, but functionally, it’s a chaotic, sugary mashup of religious tradition and a fictional bunny delivering eggs. It’s a "movable feast" determined by the moon, making it a "spring fever" event involving chocolate, egg hunts, and peculiar traditions like Norwegian crime novels.

Richard is celebrating Oestre by fiddling with his big violin which I guess is shaped like a pregnant woman (the big violin not Richard) so that's in keeping with tradition.

Robert is missing and we may learn later that he was kidnapped by aliens or one of the gods he prays to. For his sake I hope it was his favourite, the Virgin Mary rather than something weird like the Holy Ghost.

As for me, we have guests staying so I'm under instruction to "stay close Matey and don't skive off. Also, don't make a mess".

I was going to skive off and write a nice long Easter-themed post for you but chickened out and found some previous Easter-themed posts I've written over the years. Here are links to some of them, by no means all, for your reading pleasure.

No need to thank me.

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

PLAYING (THE FOOL)

I had a busy day today: Out and about shopping because we have visitors here for the entire long weekend; going to SPARK to sort out my phone (getting the ring times extended from one and a bit to a maximum 5 rings before the damned thing cuts off and goes to voice mail); receiving the new clothes dryer and trying to work out how to register it, get installation instructions and set up its WiFi capability via a difficult App; and then doing housework - vacuuming and bathroom cleaning. Sheesh! I need a long holiday weekend to recover.

This afternoon though I did get away for a tennis lesson at the tennis club. When I returned I told The Old Girl that the instructor told me that I was a natural and should be on the circuit. "Yeah right" she said, "I think he said 'circus' not 'circuit'. Oh she of little faith. I did learn a few things though - basically that forever I've been holding my tennis racket with the wrong grip and standing wrong and leading off with the wrong foot and ... it'll be good to put what I've learned into practice next time I play.

"APRIL IS THE CRUELLEST MONTH" ...

... wrote T.S. Eliot in The Waste Land ... "breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain" but as I've posted on this before I'll save myself time by putting in this link to the post and you can still enjoy it. Enjoy: April is the cruellest month

April in the Northern hemisphere is associated with the season of Spring which is Autumn in our Southern hemisphere and Eliot's poetic device is to upend the seasons in his description but you will of course have noticed that.

Moving on - its a lovely day here in Thorndon but no doubt raining in the Hutt. 

I'd go for a long walk but have a sore foot for some reason. I'll trot along to the supermarket later which is a handy 5 minute walk away. This will have to make do for exercise unless I do some rowing, stepping and biking in the 'gym' this afternoon.

I did move the fridges, the wine racks and the bookshelf in the garage earlier to make room for the clothes dryer I bought yesterday (to be delivered tomorrow) so that was a bit of exercise (and no, I didn't hurt my foot doing this). This will make for a good post - with pictures - on Thursday afternoon for you.

"Man's Own country, studded with grim effigies marked Greed, Authority, Pride and Law – armour to be assumed for adult occasions. And humour: kindness: sacred and redeeming graces as I had seen them and loved them in the old policeman – how easily, how willingly extinguished! That night marked an end: the end of the golden weather".

          Bruce Mason 'The End of the Golden Weather' 

"SHELF AWARENESH" ...

... Sean Connery.

As promised here's the new post about the garage cupboards installation.

I know that you've been waiting patiently for this and Trent Horn apologises for the delay.

"Mea culpa"

First though - a recap, so here's a link to an earlier post on the subject: HERE

The installation guy came early this morning and has just left after putting in the bespoke cabinets.

Before:

After:

I told The Old Girl as she was leaving for work this morning that when she came home the cabinets would be installed and I'll have jammed all our stuff into them.

"Yeah right" she answered inferring that I won't get a say in what is going to go on the shelves.

Oh well, it'll make the garage/gym tidier.

 

NOW THERE'S A FUNNY THING ...

 I was sitting down and lifted my foot to look at the sock I was wearing:

I was intrigued by the logo at the top - a sort of regal 'R' which I thought strange because the brand of the socks is Swanndri.

When I put both feet together and looked at the socks the penny dropped:

The other sock has an 'L' at the top so this must designate 'left' and the other 'right'.

How clever this is but it obviously doesn't work as the 'R' was on my left foot and the 'L' was on my right foot. What's that about?

*******************************

Anyway, on another matter concerning footwear, at Christmas-time I purchased some sturdy walking shoes from Mountain Warehouse. These are strong and well made and cost over $200. I wore them once and walked a few kms around town but they hurt my feet. I put this down to the fact that I was recovering from a broken toe at the time.

The other day I wore them for the second time, again walking about town but ended up with sore toes.

Looking closely at them I realised that I hadn't bought 'wide-fitting' shoes like the Sketchers I buy and, while there is nothing wrong with the shoes they are not suited to my feet.

Unfortunately I don't have the receipt for these to return them for credit or exchange so plan to give them away to an Op Shop. Before I do this however ,I'd like to offer them to Richard or Robert if they want them provided that they can wear a standard or narrow (not wide-fitting) shoe. Either of you please let me know before I donate them to charity.

They are size 11 UK or 12 US and have only been worn twice.

GOD WORKS IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS

 

WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A PORSCHE AND A PORCUPINE?

With the porcupine, the pricks are on the outside.

 We live in a reasonably nice area with schools and embassies in the street. I'm not aware of there being any gang headquarters (other than the US Embassy) or yahoos living in our and surrounding streets but there are some nuisance types - rich bastards.

There are, living in the street and nearby, several idiots who drive expensive fast cars who from time to time travel way too fast up our narrow street which, as said has two schools and children and elderly people (mainly me) who cross the road.

Two in particular are a dark blue Maserati and a light grey Porsche. I posted on Facebook's Thorndon community site a query and a complaint about the Porsche and someone else has complained about the Maserati.

Yesterday as I drove down Hobson Street I was behind the grey Porsche which, out of character, was cruising slowly. The driver was looking for a car park which normally are easy to find for residents who have preferential parking but, being around the time of school pick-ups, most parks were occupied - legally or otherwise. The car turned right into a side street where the US embassy is and I decided to follow it. The driver found a park and I drove past and turned around at the end of the short dead end street. I drove back to the parked Porsche and stopped. The driver, a woman (flash blonde tart in her 40s) got out and I confronted her. I asked her, politely, if she would take more care in driving and with her speed especially in Hobson street where there are two schools. She expressed surprise and asked when she had been speeding. I told her that it wasn't just now when she was looking for a park but many times over the last couple of months where she has driven at excessive speeds. She seemed non-plussed and was quiet but then said that she was sorry and will watch it in the future.

Now she will probably ignore this 'fatherly' advice and was thinking that I was an old busybody but I feel that sometimes you have to make the effort. I'd feel ashamed if I hadn't and a kid or an OAP get's killed trying to cross the road some time in the future.

I have her number plate details now so, if I see that car speeding again I will send the details to the police.

OK, here's another corny joke for you that almost fits this post:

Q: Why did the Porsche go to school? 

A: To accelerate its knowledge.

THE SEVENTH WAVE

 

The term "seventh wave" most commonly refers to a long-standing maritime legend that waves travel in sets, with the seventh wave being the largest and most powerful. 

1. Maritime Folklore & Science The Legend: Sailors and coastal communities (such as in the Aran Islands) have long believed that every seventh wave is the peak of a cycle, traveling further up the beach and carrying more momentum than those before it.
Scientific Basis: While it is a myth that it is always the seventh wave, oceanographers note that waves do travel in "sets" or "groups". Due to constructive interference, waves in the middle of a set tend to be larger. If a set contains roughly 14 waves, the seventh or eighth often naturally becomes the largest.
Safety: The "seventh wave" serves as a warning for shore-dwellers to remain vigilant, as a larger mid-set wave can easily knock someone off their feet.

OK, got that?

The Old Girl, who is a bit more observant than me commented that I always sneeze seven times in quick succession in the morning.

Now I do know that I sneeze for some reason (it's better than itching) I hadn't actually counted before but do now. By and large she's right - I do sneeze seven times. I'm not sure if the seventh one is the largest and most powerful and doubt that it could knock someone off their feet but it might be worth cultivating especially if some visitor is itching and scratching near me.

STUPID IS AS STUPID DOES

An incursion is an entering into a place, often sudden, unwelcome, or invasive (e.g., enemy troops entering a country), whereas an excursion is a short trip or journey out of a place for leisure or educational purposes.

This doesn't stop the stupidest president that USA has ever had from saying that the invasion and war in Iran is an 'excursion'. The background to this is that, because declarations and engagements in war, under the US Constitution, have to be ratified by Congress, the Trump administration has taken to using weasel words so as not to use the word 'war'. Trump and his idiot entourage forget themselves and use the word 'war' and then contradict themselves, often in the same sentence. It's not unlike how Trump's buddy and that other criminal world leader Putin describes the Ukraine invasion and war as 'a special military exercise'. The weasel word that Trump's advisors wanted him to use is 'incursion' but the fool uses the word 'excursion'!

As I said before it would be funny if it wasn't sending the world in to a global war, killing people, destroying cities and infrastructure and likely to case a massive world-wide recession.

I guess that some time soon Trump will be sent packing by the Iranians or dumped at home by the electors so his choice of word might come true if looked at like this"

Incursion vs excursion definition and direction: Incursion means "running into" (entering). Excursion means "running out" (leaving).

 

I ROBERT... SORRY, I PETER

I've booked in for some tennis lessons.

I'm a bit of a hacker at tennis, a bit like the way I play golf.

I can serve well and have a sneaky spin shot but my volleys leave a lot to be desired.

I feel comfortable playing with the others at the club but most are better than me and I don't want to let them down so I'll see if I can improve on my volleys.

DONALD, WHERE'S YER TROOSERS

 

You would have seen Trump's latest 'down-trou' actions where the old idiot has made even more of a fool of himself and has been caught out in his incompetence, lies and increasing failures.

It really is ridiculous and would be funny if it wasn't so dangerous. Probably thousands of people have already died due to Trump's warmongering and a global financial crisis has started ... that is affecting me!

We had some money left over between selling our house up north and buying here so decided to invest it. We took financial advice and, two weeks before that fat orange idiot illegally attacked Iran, put our money in to an investment fund. Great timing eh.

When Trump's war started we wondered if we'd made a mistake and sure enough noticed our balance shrinking. After a couple of weeks the Old Girl and I decided to pull our money out of the fund and put it in to a fixed term savings account which will earn less but only by a couple of percent. It took a week to get the funds released and today I put it in to the savings account. The loss to us was a couple of thousand dollars which, in global terms isn't even the dust on peanuts but to us is a lot of money. This could have bought enough golf balls for me to continue playing at Berhampore!

I obviously blame Trump and if someone finds the idiot's trousers please check his pockets for us as this war will be greatly increasing his and his family's wealth, his billionaire buddies' wealth and that of his pal Putin in Russia.

HOLY MOLY!

 I played golf yesterday with Robert.

I didn't play very well but we both played some good shots. Robert played better than me I feel. Even if I'd played well I still would have been outnumbered by Robert and his special friend God* though as Robert himself admitted in his latest post:

"TC did suspect divine intervention when one badly sliced drive of mine bounced off two pine trees and landed back on the fairway!"

Here are some examples.

On the first hole I teed off and hit a rather ordinary shot that landed on the fairway about 3/4 the way up a hill. It was OK, not good but acceptable. Robert teed off and hooked his ball to the left, into some trees and thick undergrowth. We headed off down hill and up on the fairway to discover that my ball was nowhere to be seen but Robert's ball - miraculously - was about 2/3 of the way up the hill on the right side of the fairway, a long way away from where it should have been in the trees to the left. "Funny" I thought, looking suspiciously around for a Trump acolyte-type person who was helping Robert. I dropped another ball and hit off with what I thought was a nice straight shot that sailed over the crest of the hill ... never to be seen again. Robert hit his second shot which crested the hill to the left and should have been in the gorse and long grass on the edge of the copse of trees (no, Richard wasn't in there doing his bear impressions). When we walked up and over the hill and down towards the green, my ball as said, was missing but Robert's was easily found and must have been hovering above the rough grass to the left kind of like the Holy Grail in those silly religious paintings.

"Funny" I thought again this time looking closely at Robert. I conceded the hole and Robert did a nice chip shot and a couple of good putts to finish.

On the next hole Robert, who 'had the honours' teed off to the right of the fairway into the trees and undergrowth. "Lost ball" I stupidly thought and teed off a reasonable shot down the left side of the fairway. I headed to my ball and hit a nice shot which hit the green and rolled across and off to, I assume, nestle beside the longer grass. Robert found his ball (no doubt hovering above the rough again) and hit a good shot to the left and beyond the green into some long grass. "Lost ball" I stupidly thought again and we approached the green. My ball of course was nowhere to be seen and stomping around in the long grass at the back of the green yielded no success. Robert's ball which had gone deeper in to the long grass was of course perched up awaiting his arrival. I took a penalty shot for a lost ball and managed to complete the hole fairly well. Robert also finished but we were even at this stage.

It must be said that Robert, even though he says he has not played much golf, was hitting the ball well and putting very well. I think that he's a natural and, with practice will be a much better player than me, Even better than Richard!

On the next hole we both hit our balls to the left of the fairway with Robert going in to the trees where, I think, his ball was lost. I think we both completed this hole OK and headed to the next where again I thought I'd hit a nice shot up the uphill fairway and Robert, I thought, had hit his in to the trees. Going uphill I found what I assumed was my ball and hit it with a nice shot up to just short of the green. Wrong! It was Robert's ball which somehow had materialised on the fairway away from where he seemed to originally hit it. My ball was nowhere to be seen. We completed the hole with me looking over my shoulder, into the trees with a growing suspicion.

In short we completed a few more holes rather unsuccessfully but with the odd good shot including a nice par three hole that has great views down to Island Bay. We both hit well with our balls landing on the green and both got pars I think.

The next  five holes were indifferent and I managed to lose three more balls with them being gobbled up by trees, gorse and long grass. These 'hazards' didn't seem to bother Robert's ball though and at one time I swear I saw a magpie picking his ball up from the gorse bushes and carrying it to the the middle of the fairway!

On the last hole we played - the 12th - I hit off with a long drive that crested the hill and over to the unseen green but a bit to the right where it should have been sitting below the raised green. Yes, you guessed it, my ball was nowhere to be seen. Robert teed off with a nice long ball to the right where it went into the copse of pine trees (like  the woods really but again, no Richard) and managed to collide with two tall trees before bouncing back on to the fairway! Holy Moly! He hit his second shot which rolled over the crest of the hill, once more in to some more very long grass and "Lost ball" I stupidly thought once again but of course the ball was sitting up nicely on top of the weeds. I imagined Robert gliding across the rough without touching the grass like Jesus on the water.

All in all it was a pleasant afternoon's golf even though Berhampore (Mornington Golf Club) is a challenging course. It will be good for my fitness though if I can find some more golf balls. I lost six of them yesterday and am now regretting giving away about 500 of them to my sister.

I'm looking forward to some more hits with Robert but it might pay to go to Mass beforehand next time.

* Adherents of the Fourth Council of the Lateran who believe in the Holy Trinity would suggested that I was playing against four people.

SUCCULENT

 No, not the tender juicy and tasty pear I ate after lunch. I'm referring to the succulent plants that I put on a couple of Free Stuff sites yesterday.

To date there have been no takers from the two sites that I posted this on - Free Stuff Thorndon, Kelburn and CBD and Free recycling Wellington, Lower Hutt and Upper Hutt.

Obviously Wellingtonians are too well heeled to bother or are not into gardening. If I'd posted this offer in Whangarei Heads there would have been at least half a dozen people clamouring for these. They are nice and in good condition.

Succulents are diverse, drought-tolerant plants with thick, fleshy tissues designed to store water, thriving in arid climates and often used in low-maintenance, decorative gardening. Popular for their varied shapes and colours, they require well-draining soil, bright light, and minimal watering, making them ideal for indoors or outdoors.

Oh well. Never mind eh.

I SAY, THAT'S A BIT RUDE

 From Google:

I started this blog many years ago when I was a whippersnapper and called myself a curmudgeon as a bit of a laugh but, funny enough, as I've grown oder I notice that I've been taking on some of the curmudgeonly characteristics as described above.

Not all though.

I don't see myself yet as misanthropic, disagreeable or miserly but will admit to cynical, cranky, stubborn, cantankerous and becoming set in may ways. The annoyances in modern life and geopolitics run by idiots are not helping in my ever-increasing 'churlish' disposition. The best, or worse, is still to come I guess.

LET'S TALK ABOUT BEES

 Robert called Richard 'the bee's knees' in a post and, predictably, the apis (not a pissed) gentleman from Whyonearthdoesitmatter, went off on a tangent about the anatomy of bees, a subject that he doesn't know a lot about - remember his confusion about Daddy Long-legs?

By way of a riposte (not a rip-off) he suggested that I was a bee's foot! What's that about?

It's not funny but I can live with that.

I think he's more of a bee's arse than its knees but, hey ho.