This one works, I know :-)
Confuse Government Departments
By replying to a letter they never sent you.
Chabon is a real pleasure to read, and he doesnt repeat himself – you never know what to expect next.
And I think you’ll love “The Final Solution” – it’s a helpful hint towards the -\nah, why spoil pleasures ahead?
"Summerland" is another goodie, and "Gentlemen of the Road (first appeared serialised in the NY Times I think) had me laughing out loud (and snivelling a couple of times, especially with reguards to the elephant...)
I have “The Yiddish Policemen’s Union” to look forward to – it’s over towards the bottom of the pile of unread stuff by the axolotl’s tank…
Always reply to unsolicited questionnaires.
Use your imagination to the max, and your neighbour's PC.
Heh. viztoptips are pickled capers in the nostalgic bolognese of my adolescence.
VETS. A human armpit hair makes a great prosthetic leg for an invalid spider.
CONVINCE people that you are a robot by constantly walking around like a robot.
. . . oh and anyone who puts folk dancing as their hobby.
Just the type who'd get a kick out of spiking your drink and smilingly lurking about to see what it did to you:
A stutterer from childhood, Gottlieb got a master's degree in speech therapy. He also had a club foot. It kept him out of World War II, but it did not stop him from practicing folk dancing, a lifelong passion.
Wow, thanks for that stephen. Memories...
1. Using an old telephone directory as an address book can save you money, just cross out the people you don't know.
2. Always insist on a full name and address when being introduced to new friends.
You've been on Google+ too much.
3. When transferring contacts to a new address book be sure to have identities checked by a professional.
This can prevent embarrassing situations when you invite "John & Bronwyn" to dinner
I'm hoping I can get away with some self-promotion: I've seen others doing it here. Dunedin people who aren't migrating for the Great Blend might be diverted by the Chaps' CD launch at the Crown Mill Function Centre. Saturday 8.00 pm. I don't think there'll be any folk dancing ...
4. 3 am is not the best time to throw a dinner party, especially after a hard night out.
5. When reaching for little used kitchen implements on top of the cupboard be sure to use a stepladder or some form of scaffolding.
6. When falling try to avoid sharp corners and animals.
7. When peeling vegetables always cut away from yourself.
8. If you ever have the occasion to call an ambulance try to remember to use a telephone, not a frying-pan full of hot oil.
9. Polished floors can be hazardous when covered in oil and blood.
(see tip 6)
10. Beware of dogs displaying teeth, they may not be smiling.
When falling try to avoid sharp corners and animals
those sharp animals will get you every time
those sharp animals will get you every time
I threw a Porcupine at a dart board once.
I scored 3,472
Amazingly, I *do* have "John & Bronwyn" coming to dinner this weekend. Fairly sure these ones are both gay, though.
Fairly sure these ones are both gay, though.
Published just in time then.
Be sure to get them to confer their sexual preferences as soon as they arrive and make a note of it in the margin of your address book for future reference.
As in Orwell's 1984 or Sir Roger's 1984? Or maybe even both?
OMG. I've just realised. The revolution in 1984 happened the same year Orwell's book was set. Is there a PhD in there somewhere? And Roger isn't a Sir, he's a flamin' pig farmer. He's no Sir.
*I became a quasi-Republican the morning I woke up and saw Bill Birch's face on the front page of Granny, under some headline saying "Now Sir Bill". I only respect good and proper Sir's, like Sir Paul Reeves, but not Bill Birch or Roger Douglas or anybody like them.
It’s more a case of finding some criteria, any criteria, to get from impossible number to read properly let alone interview to something feasible.
Nope. My friend is gay, and really, who wants to be confronted by a nauseating display of heterosexuality? Not him and I don’t blame him.
ETA: As Craig can more eloquently tell you, we fags are really everywhere. :)
And really, is there anything more fun that sitting through three hours of a live 'tape' of a 1989 Hacienda House night mix featuring classics (and the blardy whistles) on a Friday afternoon?
When it comes to sharp animals, I wouldn't be worried about porcupines. It's the giant rats with poisonous mohawks I would be worried about.
A FAILED phuqeing pig farmer to boot....
And -David Hood?
Yet another animal I'd love to have around the place (not quite as a pet you understand. Anything as awesome as that is nobody's pet-)
It's the giant rats with poisonous mohawks I would be worried about.
Lyall Watson speculated that lophiomys used those wick-like hairs to diffuse a mood-altering pheromone that induced a sense of unease in potential predators. Kind of a psycho-skunk. Definitely a critter to be respected.
I was 16 in 1981 and about as anti-tour as I could be. I marched in Wellington with such joy and excitement to be part of the good fight. But before things got scary I had an operation on my foot which meant I couldn't walk long distances and so I missed out on the really intense marches.
I do recall my father coming home gray faced after Molesworth street and I realised that his view of NZ police had taken a severe turn. Considering that he had been 16 at the time of the 1951 waterfront dispute I am surprised now that he had such a rosy view of NZ authority.
I look back on that era as the golden days of protest. Anti-tour and anti-nuclear marches following not long after the era of anti-war. Such a wonderful time to be young and politically aware.
It is sad that just a few years later not nearly as many people showed up to protest the sale of state assets under the Labour government, or changes to NZ employment law under the National government. It seems incredible that we could muster such feeling to protest against things that we were not directly affected by but when it came to our own futures and jobs we (as a country - not individually) remain silent and apathetic.
It was, kind of, Global I was living in New Cross at the time of the Brixton Riot
In January 1981 a house fire, a suspected racially-motivated arson, had killed a number of black youths in New Cross; the police investigation was criticised as inadequate.
It was one of many, at the time.