Cool sunny and quiet for a while. Sort of normal and friendly.

And it hasn't rained much either. So since the new edit of the water regs last June all due to the increase in water storage whereas one may wash the family car using a trigger hose instead of as many bucketfuls as you wished, I decided to give the car a miss and illegally water the back garden. The guy next door spoke to me about it and I explained that, I will not mention to the authorities about the elec/light being constantly turned on in his shed at the back of his garden. Having got him by the short and curlies, he suggested that being a pom (English) I should be given an extra quota of town water due to the assumption that most English people only bathe on a Saturday or the sabbath or to attend periodical social gatherings. This neighbour of mine has part of his rear garden dedicated to the storage of come in handy later items-the TV Saga of 'Steptoe and Son' comes to mind, sayings such as "Oi Arold" and you "Dirty old Man" by the motley pair of 'Rag an bone ' men salvaging useful floggable later, unwanted household Items.
Recently he saw me in our front garden asked me if I had any old keys as none of his will fit his front door; he could not remember which key it was anyway and I guessed he had been on the turps. My dear lady wife bless her gave me a few meaty bones for the neighbours dog then I went around to his front door. The guys dog was barking like hell as I slipped the piece of thin plastic through the door jamb crevice, he shoved his foot inside to keep it open and told me to beat it before the dog removes my trachea, I had seen the dogs dissident behaviour to visitors on many occasions. However, When the guy saw the dog jump up and lick my face(YUK) after I pushed the door open he sudden sobered up, then when I patted the dog led him to the back gate and shut him in with bag of meaty bones. The guy stood there scratching his head probably wondering if I was 'The Dog Whisperer'. Unknown to him I had hand fed the dog for months over the side fence, the dog and I had reached an understanding and we were sort of 'Good Friends.

Come Friday when all will be revealed. There has been no indication that our Gr/ daughters will be staying for their usual bi wkly (visit to daddy) as #5 prodigal son has not shown up lately (This pisses me off) we have to get permission to take our GR/ children to their Uncles 3rd time wedding on Sat Sept 6, 300 miles distant, mostly by freeways and cash grabbing tolls. I some times wonder when I leave this mortal existence how my closer relatives will survive without my patronisation, it is not intentional on my part to become entangled in their ongoing domestic sagas, its just simply hard to avoid, I being the patriarch.

On my health front. After all those tests I still have no idea what my true state of health is. Still waiting for answers from the vascular Doc. Our Doc seems to think there is little to be concerned over, who is he kidding?. As I left his surgery yesterday I turned around and in earshot of all those waiting, I said to him "Well its nice to know If one has a ballooning Aorta it is nothing to worry about."

Shower time, See you later, Vest.

Anonymous Callers. Please read this before you call.

Vest said...
In future until further notice, all non bloggers meaning those without a blog site, may if they wish register their name or title with me as others have done already. Leave your name etc and email address and register before calling, this applies mainly to serial anony callers who use abusive dialogue within their comment, maybe Little Ben from Maitland should take note and also purchase a nose guard from your friendly sports store--gotcha you little fart.
Remember all calls with unacceptable content will be scrubbed.
Have a lovely day.

Friday, 22 August 2008 10:48:00 AM EST

An open letter to Slime Bag Bigot...nose up arse John Coates. Pommy basher..

SO Britain is short on pools and soap so this prize pig states, not surprising since he and a heap of other Aussie Bigots have hogged the market for their daily ritual, 'The Washing Out Of Your Foul and Filthy Mouths With Soap'.
John Coates: The Aussie Olympic Boss, the under qualified and grossly overpaid sporting moron living off the backs of true blue Aussies, should find himself another job that suits his general makeup, ideally as a 'Shithouse Cleaner' or with the North Korean Diplomatic Corps. This common Tyke has been asked to step down and should be regarded as persona non grata. Google 'The Sydney Daily Telegraph' archives, for the full story.
The Need for (comfort) domestic swimming pools in Britain or Europe, is rare due to the adverse climatic conditions.
The need to shower daily in Australia is a must or you would stink to high heaven, however, this option is not always the case, say during the winter season when the temperatures drop to equal those of a European Summer. Over the years I have studied local bathroom habits and from my enquiries among Aussie residents has revealed that during the cooler seasons locals become reluctant to shed their clobber and wield the palmolive. The local govt water consumption information showing reduction in usage bears this out.
I recall my five years in a prep school in Britain during the 1930s, where 300 students showered daily between about 8pm to nine pm in a multiple shower room, in all 50 shower spaces, We washed with yellow sunlight soap (Laundry Soap) no hair shampoo, that was for sisses, we had to clean our teeth with salt, But dont ask me why; but you were allowed to use dentifrice(toothpaste) if you could afford it. Also our underwear was changed daily.
We also had a six lane 110 ft long and 8ft deep end pool with a spring and 20ft high board , this was used for six months of the year and was very cold at times, it consisted of concrete and was lime washed, it was emptied and scrubbed frequently and discharged into the river Wensum at nth Elmham where it would kill most of the fish in the river.
BTW we swam naked, no budgie smugglers except for open days.
Our swimming season compared to a Sydney NSW OZ winter, no joke, little wonder here in Oz we have such fine athletes, we certainly are the lucky country, we have the best climate giving us more incentives to take up sport. we should not knock other competitors who have to tiptoe through the snow for a dip in the briny.
Vest, Daily Gaggle.

SWEARING.....Swearing, Cursing, Obscenity, and other Exclamatory language....Do we need it?.

THERE is nothing so impertinent, so sensitive and foolish, as our way of vulgar discourse, when mixed with oaths and curses.
Swearing, that lewdness of the tongue, That scum and excrement of the mouth commonly used by bullying peers in industry the office and the military parade ground, and now the entertainment industry, it is of all vices the most foolish and sensless; it makes a persons conversation unpleasant, his Discourse fruitless, and his Language Nonsense.
On leaving; as a guest at a local servicemans club, I asked a senior staff person if I could be allowed to voice the "F" word during any social conversation within the club. I was told "No", our club will not condone swearing within the club at any time. My reply was; it seems the Pious bastards running this club can charge patrons $45..00 to listen to a barrage of gushing filth incorporating every known top drawer swear word known to man by that ugly bastard 'Rodney Rude' Billed as entertainment, What's your club motto mate, Is it * "I see no ships"? .....I was shown the door.
Some people worry that slang will somehow corrupt the language. We should be so lucky. Most slang lexicons are preciously guarded by their sub cultures as membership badges. Slang in my world is a lingo that rolls up its sleeves, spits on its hands and goes to work....A lesson for the Miscellaneous Migrant entering Britain, RE, My previous post.
No one is ever capable of swearing properly in any language other than their own apart from one exception, in my case I have frequently been informed I have spoken Japanese or a similar lingo, and I have learned that others too have experienced this phenomena, 'Its a kind of First Aid to the injured, It seems to deaden the pain.
But others will say "Let us swear while we may, for in heaven it will not be allowed.

SO, "What is your feeble excuse for the use of profanity, or your reasons for abstention, waiting to hear from you.
Vest Daily Gaggle. Yes I am feeling better.

Have a lovely day. BTW. *Admiral Nelson...Blind Eye, get it? "Eye see no ships"

"Oh To Be In England"....Nominated for 'Joke of the Year'

This is far too close to the truth for my liking,


A Somalian arrives in Birmingham as a new immigrant to the UK
He stops the first person he sees walking down the street and says, 'Thank you Mr. Englishman for letting me in this country, giving me housing, food stamps, free medical care, and free education!' The passer-by says, 'You are mistaken, I am Pakistani.'

The man goes on and encounters another passer-by. “Thank you for having such a beautiful country here in the UK!'
The Person says, 'I not British, I am Polish.'

The new arrival walks further, and the next person he sees he stops, shakes his hand and says, 'Thank you for the wonderful things in England!' That person puts up his hand and says, 'I am from India, I am not British!'

He finally sees a nice lady and asks, 'Are you British?' She says,” No, I am from Africa!' Puzzled, he asks her, 'Where are all the British people?'

The African lady checks her watch and says...'Probably at work!!!!!!

Vest recalls today Aug 4, the 37th OZ anniversary for his family..

CHAPTER 47 ( Another excerpt from VEST'S memoirs 'Waving Goodbye To a Thousand Flies')
Back to Australia.
After much preparation, our house sold for more than we expected. We said our good-byes to our relatives and hoped all would be well. On Independence Day, 1971, we sailed from Southampton on ‘Brittannis,’ a 22,000 tonne Greek liner. We had the option to fly out, but a thirty-one day cruise seemed the best idea, especially since it would be a new experience for the family.
The journey to Australia was great – good accommodation, food, and entertainment. Mary’s 37th birthday was on 5 July. Even after delivering five healthy sons, she was still beautiful (and still is the love of my life.) Our boys were well behaved on the ship. We met an ex-Navy man and his wife and family with whom we are still in contact to this day. When the ship called into the Canary Isles, we all went ashore and nearly lost Christopher, who decided to go sightseeing on his own. The next stop was in Dakar, West Africa, where a very sick person was taken ashore by the ship’s crew.
The ship arrived in Capetown on a Saturday night. It was late, so we decided that the following morning we would go to Table Mountain. We were off the ship by seven o’clock am. At nine o’clock, we had arrived by cable car at the top of Table Mountain – 3,549 ft or about 1,100 metres high. Getting on the cable car at the bottom was okay, but when getting off, that gap which was moving at the top was scary. After our descent, we fed the pigeons in the park and walked back to the ship. My family walked on the ‘white’ side of the sidewalk while I walked on the ‘coloured’ side of the sidewalk. On passing a white springbok copper, I called out “jambo bwana” (happy meeting you) in Swahili. He replied with a two-finger salute. We arrived back at the ship for lunch and were off to Australia with the ship in a stern sea most of the way.
On 16 July 1971, I turned 45.
Australia
Our arrival in Fremantle, Western Australia on 23 July 1971, was uneventful, apart from quietly going through customs and smelling our way to the local fish and chip shop surrounded by homesick Poms. We were in the serving line when a person approached me and said, “Lend me ten bob, sport.” I turned to Mary and the boys and said, “We have arrived.” My first words to an Aussie in twenty-five years were “Get stuffed.” My family informed me that I was a very rude daddy.
Our next port of call, Port Adelaide, was not at all awe-inspiring; we stayed only a few hours. The ship then called into Melbourne and unloaded a large number of Greek and Maltese immigrants. We travelled to the city on a dilapidated dockside tram that had been delightfully adorned with many rude four-letter words and other startling pornographic pictorial statements. We then trudged the streets. It was different from what I remembered. After finding the fairground at Luna Park closed for the winter, we went back to the ship for Steven’s fourth birthday party.
Sydney, 4 August 1971. We were here at last! Although it was cold and windy, I did my level best to inform the family that this was the worst scenario and things would get better. Memories from twenty-five years ago came flooding back, but I put them aside and focused on the future.
We left the ship and cleared customs. Our hold baggage was sent on later to the hostel where we would be staying. After the luxury of the ship, the hostel was a letdown. As time went on, I let the family know that this was a temporary situation. Getting out of the hostel became a priority.
At the Villawood Hostel, about ten families of differing ethnic origins were waiting outside the manager’s office. The manager was a polite Italian migrant with a flair for English. Although alphabetical order is the normal way to go, that day, it seemed the Z’s, U’s, Y’s, and Q’s went first. My friend’s family and ours – the E’s and S’s – were last. A seven-foot tall, blonde, middle-aged Prussian bimbo announced to the manager, “Ve now haf the last of the Queen’s relatives.”
I replied, “You must be the Whore from Stalag Four.” Then I said, “Sig heil” with an erect middle finger. The manager said he would speak to her later and that I must be more tolerant. I replied, “I am always tolerant when it suits me.”
Having sorted out the cockroaches and settled into our Nissen hut, we went to the main dining room. A good selection of poorly cooked but sustainable food was the normal fare. The only problem was that the knives, forks, and spoons had to be washed outside the mess hall under a cold-water tap. We made other arrangements.
The nights were cold (mid winter in Sydney) and the showers thirty yards away. Despite the English shower and soap joke, we were more frequent users of the showers than most people.
The second day after we arrived, we were visited by friends who had lived one house up from us in England – Ron and Margaret Ryan. We would see a lot of them in days to come.
The next day, we decided to take the train into town from Leighton field Station. A recently arrived migrant announced the destination for the next train in a strange, garbled form of Strine, a badly spoken, Aussie Brumby English. Two old geezers sitting close by noticed that I was having difficulty understanding it. One of them said, “When youse been ‘ere’ a bit more, sport, you’ll learn English.”
I looked him squarely in the eye and replied, “Now isn’t that nice to know, you silly old fart.”
One of the boys said, “You’re being rude again, daddy.”
Later in the day, when we called into a local shop to buy a hot water jug, William sat on the glass display shelf. I snatched him just in time. I had no idea glass could bend.

Want to read more; Go to sales@trafford.com ISBN 1-4120-3384-5

The Six Affairs, Plus two old Geezers, Posted by Nigel, Our UK Correspondent. Vest is resting.

Nigel...... LION-KING@NTLWORLD.COM
Subject: FW: THE SIX AFFAIRS

The 1st Affair

A married man was having an affair
with his secretary.
One day they went to her place
and made love all afternoon.
Exhausted, they fell asleep
and woke up at 8 PM .
The man hurriedly dressed
and told his lover to take his shoes
outside and rub them in the grass and dirt.
He put on his shoes and drove home.
'Where have you been?' his wife demanded.
'I can't lie to you,' he replied,
'I'm having an affair with my secretary.
We had sex all afternoon.'
She looked down at his shoes and said:
'You lying bastard!
You've been playing golf!'


The 2nd Affair

A middle-aged couple had two beautiful daughters
but always talked about having a son.
They decided to try one last time
for the son they always wanted.
The wife got pregnant
and delivered a healthy baby boy.
The joyful father rushed to the nursery
to see his new son.
He was horrified at the ugliest child
he had ever seen.
He told his wife: 'There's no way I can
be the father of this baby.
Look at the two beautiful daughters I fathered!
Have you been fooling around behind my back?'
The wife smiled sweetly and replied:
'Not this time!'


The 3rd Affair

A mortician was working late one night.
He examined the body of Mr. Schwartz,
about to be cremated,
and made a startling discovery.
Schwartz had the largest private part
he had ever seen!
'I'm sorry Mr. Schwartz,' the mortician
commented, 'I can't allow you to be cremated
with such an impressive private part.
It must be saved for posterity.'
So, he removed it,
stuffed it into his briefcase,
and took it home
'I have something to show
you won't believe,' he said to his wife,
opening his briefcase.
'My God!' the wife exclaimed,
'Schwartz is dead!'


The 4th Affair

A woman was in bed with her lover
when she heard her husband
opening the front door.
Hurry,' she said, 'stand in the corner.'
She rubbed baby oil all over him,
then dusted him with talcum powder.
'Don't move until I tell you,'
she said, 'pretend you're a statue.'
'What's this?' the husband inquired
as he entered the room.
'Oh it's a statue,' she replied,
'the Smiths bought one and I liked it
so I got one for us, too.'
No more was said,
not even when they went to bed.
Around 2 AM the husband got up,
went to the kitchen and returned
with a sandwich and a beer.
'Here,' he said to the statue, have this.
I stood like that for two days at the Smiths
and nobody offered me a damned thing.'


The 5th Affair

A man walked into a cafe,
went to the bar and ordered a beer.
'Certainly, Sir, that'll be one cent.'
'One Cent?' the man exclaimed.
He glanced at the menu and asked:
'How much for a nice juicy steak
and a bottle of wine?'
'A nickel,' the barman replied.
'A nickel?' exclaimed the man.
'Where's the guy who owns this place?'
The bartender replied:
'Upstairs, with my wife.'
The man asked: 'What's he doing upstairs
with your wife?'
The bartender replied:
'The same thing I'm doing
to his business down here.'


The 6th Affair

Jake was dying. His wife sat at the bedside.
He looked up and said weakly:
'I have something I must confess.'
'There's no need to, 'his wife replied.
'No,' he insisted,
'I want to die in peace.
I slept with your sister, your best friend,
her best friend, and your mother!'
'I know,' she replied,
'now just rest and let the poison work.'

................................................

TWO OLD MEN DECIDE THEY ARE CLOSE TO THEIR LAST DAYS
AND DECIDE TO HAVE A LAST NIGHT ON THE TOWN.
AFTER A FEW DRINKS, THEY END UP AT THE LOCAL BROTHEL


THE MADAM TAKES ONE LOOK AT THE TWO OLD GEEZERS
AND WHISPERS TO HER MANAGER, 'GO UP TO THE FIRST
TWO BEDROOMS AND PUT AN INFLATED DOLL IN EACH BED.
THESE TWO ARE SO OLD AND DRUNK, I'M NOT WASTING
TWO OF MY GIRLS ON THEM. THEY WON'T KNOW
THE DIFFERENCE.'

THE MANAGER DOES AS HE IS TOLD AND THE TWO OLD
MEN GO UPSTAIRS AND TAKE CARE OF THEIR BUSINESS.

AS THEY ARE WALKING HOME THE FIRST MAN SAYS,
'YOU KNOW, I THINK MY GIRL WAS DEAD!'

'DEAD?' SAYS HIS FRIEND, 'WHY DO YOU SAY THAT?'

'WELL, SHE NEVER MOVED OR MADE A SOUND ALL THE
TIME I WAS LOVING HER.'

HIS FRIEND SAYS, 'COULD BE WORSE I THINK MINE WAS
A WITCH.'

'A WITCH ??. . . WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU SAY THAT?'

'WELL, I WAS MAKING LOVE TO HER, KISSING HER ON
THE NECK, AND I GAVE HER A LITTLE BITE ON THE TIT, THEN SHE
FARTED AND FLEW OUT THE WINDOW... TAKING MY
TEETH WITH HER'