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Cats himself

Bleg

MarielineI’d like you to meet Marieline, an old friend and an ex girlfriend from some years ago.

I haven’t seen her for years, kinda because we live on different sides of the continent. She lives in Perth, and I live on Queenslands sunny Gold Coast.

This doesn’t allow for the occasional Saturday morning meet up for a cup of coffee, but we cross paths on the Internet on occasion and say hello.

Anyway, Marieline is suffering from motor neurone disease, sorta like wot that physicist chappie has, the one who invented quantum black holes, evaporating black holes and pootles about about writing books on the nature of time when he is not redefining our understanding of existence. That one, you know.

Anyway, Marieline is what Susan Sto Helit’s old school headmistress would have called a plucky gel, and she is taking part in a charity walk in order to raise a bit of cash to contribute to motor neurone research.

Go on, bung a couple a bob into the pot. You know you want to, don’t you?

WTF!!!

Damn,

I’m a liberal…

We bin hacked

Yep.

The black hats broke in and whacked the site, but good.

Still working on it. I think I’ve managed to save all postings and comments, no loss there thankfully. Don’t take any changes of appearance here as gospel tho. I had to recreate all from scratch and it takes time, donchano.

Cats.

The more the world knows me

Thrice cursed huh? That’s me out of the running for head of the residents committee then.

Shameless Human Scum Counting Cats Condemned

PYONGYANG (KCNA) — Against the backdrop of angry shouts rocking the country, a special military tribunal of the DPRK Ministry of State Security was held against Counting Cats, traitor for all ages.

Absolute is the trust of the army and people of the DPRK in its ability to vanquish Cats, the enemy of the party, revolution and people and heinous betrayer of the nation.

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Some poor bugger died last week

I have a friend, Jaime. He is Bolivian, which explains the spelling of his name, but has been living in Oz for a few decades.

I first met him some years ago, and he has been living at my place for the last two years.

He was hard and tough and wiry - just the sort that won't say die -
There was courage in his quick impatient tread;
And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye,
And the proud and lofty carriage of his head.

Anyway, about nine or ten months ago he wasn’t feeling too hot, so he went to see the doctor. The doc sent him to hospital for some tests, and when he came home he was a bit quiet; bad tempered too.

Bad tempered wasn’t unusual, but quiet? That’s never been known to happen before. On one occasion (I timed it) he followed me around the house talking, non stop, for an hour and a half before I said anything. It was when he got to the point of telling me the life history of his friends girlfriends cousin I decided that enough was enough.

Eventually he told me, he was suffering from pulmonary fibrosis, a progressive scaring of his lung tissue, and had less than a year to live.

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The naming of cats

My cat was called Cat, until my sister renamed him Dennis.

When in Rome

John Galts posting below got me musing to myself about the last time I visited Rome.

I wandered about a bit on my tod, as is my wont, and when I found Trajans Column there was an elderly Australian couple there, asking a street vendor what it was about. This bloke didn’t understand them, or at least was pretending not to, and was trying to get rid of them. Jeeze, what a SOB. The chance that a Rome souvenir hawker didn’t speak at least simple English was somewhere between zilch and Buckley’s. I took this couple in hand and did my tour guide bit – explained who Trajan was, what the column was, how old it was, why it was erected, what the reliefs around it represented, and what had been done to it over the years (centuries?)(millennia?) since it was first constructed.

They thanked me profusely for my time, and then I thanked them for listening to me and, as I had never seen the column before, allowing me to make my first sight of it so pleasant. The look on their faces was priceless.

Them were the days

Going through some old papers today, stuff that has been trailing after me as I perambulate around the world over the years.

Anyway, what do I find? Here on Queenslands sunny Gold Coast? Some examples of good old fashioned political pamphleteering, that’s what. The sort of written equivalent of standing on a soapbox at Speakers Corner, which any political loudmouth would indulge in back in previous centuries, before this internetty thing made it so easy that it turned the world into Speakers Corner and we can all have that soapbox.

Anyway, these pamphlets must be over thirty years old – headed as they were ‘Alternative Bookshop’ and authored by one Brian Micklethwait

Sigh

Right,

Everything has been replaced. Firewall rebuilt, new server, loadsa memory.

If the fornicating piece of equipment fails again it can fornicating go fornicate itself.

I constructed a new fine and shiny server, and the motherboard failed immediately. It took my supplier two working days, plus a weekend, to get me a replacement…

The bunnies really weren’t happy – even if the gerbils have had a nice rest recently.

Site down

To all concerned, and even to those who don’t give a toss…

Damn, but I am sorry the site was down.

While I was away the site collapsed, and I couldn’t get in to check the problem. When I finally got my hands on it all, after I got back, I found that the router was dead, dead as a really dead thing living in the centre of deadlands. Further, my remote pair of hands, who I had left in charge of doing stuff if anything went wrong, was in hospital, with the doctors wondering each day if he would be laughing and smiling the next, or pushing up daisies instead.

He is out now in case you were wondering.

My bad for not sticking in a new router before I left.

Sailing

It is a few days since I left, last Monday in fact, but I had no Internet access. It is not that the ship doesn’t provide internet services, but at between 33 cents per minute, provided I buy 600 minutes in advance, and 79 cents if I don’t, it has the be damned important before I make use of it.

Sorry guys and gals, much as I love you all, I don’t love you that much…

So, having written this aboard, I am sending it from Nuku’alofa, Tonga*. Or, at the time of writing, that is the plan anyway.

First, the ship:

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Break

This weekend I am off for a while.

I have a milestone birthday coming up, and no, I am not telling which milestone, and I have been given a gift of a five week cruise on board Sea Princess.

The itinerary is:

Sydney, Nuku’alofa, Honolulu, Kaui, Maui, Kona, Hilo, Papeete, Moorea, Raiatea, Bora Bora, Pago Pago, Suva, Noumea.

Or,

Australia, Western Samoa, Hawaii, Tahiti, French Polynesia, American Samoa, Fiji and New Caledonia.

Ya gunna miss me?

Weekend

I have just had one of the more pleasant weekends for a year or more…

The Australian Taxpayers Alliance (who they? Ed.) held what they hope will be the first, of many, Friedman Conferences in Sydney and I went to listen in.

Train to Sydney, slept in a pretty grungy backpackers, and spent the time talking.

Saturday night was the dinner night, and a good time was had by all. While eating, the people on one side were discussing G. B. Shaw, and G. K. Chesterton, and on the other I was talking to people about state vs common law regulation, and the issues around the two approaches.

I thought to myself, we’re not on Queenslands sunny Gold Coast anymore Toto.

We died

You may have heard about the weather we bin gettin here on the Pacific coast of Australia, but, then again, you may not. Whatever.

Yesterday we had a blackout. Whether it was down to the weather I don’t know, but there have been a few since the beginning of the year.

Anyway, this wasn’t a long blackout, and everything came back pretty toot sweet. Or, most of it did. The Cats firewall threw up all over the carpet and we all ceased counting while I cleaned up the mess.

I got on with the task of building a new one, from scratch.

Sorry.

Christmas Surprise

I got me a Chrissy pressie.

I put up a post a short time back, telling you all of my love for Thomas Grays Ode on the Death of a Favorite Cat Drowned in a Tub of Goldfishes.

Well, that posting led me back to this one, from some years earlier, and in turn I read this comment from Permanentexpat, who, incidentally, I haven’t seen around these parts for some time.

Anyway, To His Coy Mistress. I hadn’t read that for simply ages darling, so I did a quick Google, and came up with the Wikipedia page. It looked worth spending some time on, with a whole load of good stuff about the poem, but I was a bit busy at the time so I stuck the link into my Must Read Later list and got on with my life.

So, later finally arrived yesterday and I had a read.

Now, bear with me, this is going somewhere. Causality can be a long chain and a wonderful thing.

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