Cheesed off, because Coon isn't in tune anymore.

(Sydney) Activist is hunting for cheese. An anti-racism campaigner will take his fight to Coon cheese after winning a nine-year battle to erase the word ‘‘ nigger’’ from a sports ground yesterday.

Queensland Sports Minister Judy Spence said the Toowoomba Sports Ground Trust had agreed the word would not be used ‘‘ anywhere’’ on the grounds after the E.S. ‘‘ Nigger’’ Brown Stand — named after an international rugby player — was demolished.

The fight to remove the name has been fought almost single handedly by Aboriginal academic Stephen Hagan, who took his battle as far as the UN.

Mr Hagan said he would now focus his effort on fighting Dairy Farmers’ Coon cheese.
‘‘ Dairy Farmers said it was named after Edward Coon, who revolutionised the speeding process of making cheese,’’ he said. ‘‘ But I’ve questioned the authenticity of that story.’’

Mr Hagan claims the cheese used to have a black wraparound and was named ‘‘ Coon’’ as a joke.

‘‘ I want Dairy Farmers to show me the evidence of Edward Coon being given an honorary doctorate and what year he received that honorary doctorate,’’ he said. ‘‘ If they can prove to me that Edward Coon was a famous cheese maker, I will drop my campaign.


‘‘ If they can’t do it, I’m going to fight them all the way, just like I did with Nigger Brown.

Vest needs to know what alternative names could replace this icoonic cheese label, something like A B Original Cheddar.

Round about the eighties, Charles Perkins, a past Australian Aborigine spokes person, made a suggestion to J Laws a well known but now retired talk show host, that, all names of Cities Towns villages, rivers roads and public places, should adopt Aborigine names. I am uncertain of the reply from J Laws to Charlie Perkins, but it would not be too difficult to guess.

John Laws 'Lawsy' has retired, a replacement to equal him will never be found.

"I wonder what will be said about me"

"Oh No !!". Not another Do Gooder Know all

Andy Rooney (Caucasian) DOB Jan 1919, Colourful Radio personality.

Good for him!!!
I'm surprised CBS let him get away with this, even though he's right. in places. Like I shall do a bit of picking, You too are invited to do likewise.

Right on, Andy Rooney!

Andy Rooney said on '60 Minutes' In the USA a few weeks back:
I don't think being a minority makes you a victim of anything except numbers. The only things I can think of that are truly discriminatory are things like the United Negro College Fund, Jet Magazine, Aboriginal Legal Service, Black Entertainment Television, and Miss Black America. Try to have things like the United Caucasian College Fund, Cloud Magazine, White Entertainment Television, or Miss White America and see what happens...Jesse Jackson or Tony Mundane will be knocking down your door.

Vest Say's. Now that seems to right for me, including Tony Mundane* mis-spelt* but fits.
Now this is where he gets up my nose.

Andy Rooney Say's.
Guns do not make you a killer. I think killing makes you a killer. You can kill someone with a baseball or cricket bat, or a car, but no one is trying to ban you from driving to the game.

Vest Say's. Well the opinion of yet another red neck gun lover, He hasn't heard that it so much easier to kill fifty school kids with a gun than it is with a baseball bat or a knife.

Andy Rooney Say's. I believe they are called the Boy Scouts for a reason, which is why there are no girls allowed. Girls belong in the Girl Scouts! ARE YOU LISTENING MARTHA BURKE? ARE YOU LISTENING GERMAINE GREER?.

I think that if you feel homosexuality is wrong, it is not a phobia, it is an opinion.

I have the right 'NOT' to be tolerant of others because they are different, weird, or tick me off.

Vest Say's. Yes I'll go along with that.

When 70% of the people who get arrested are black, in cities where 70% of the population is black, that is not racial profiling; it is the Law of Probability.

I believe that if you are selling me a milkshake, a pack of cigarettes, a newspaper or a hotel room, you must do it in English! As a matter of fact, if you want to be an American, Canadian or Australian citizen, you should have to speak English!
My father and grandfather didn't die in vain so you can leave the countries you were born in to come over and disrespect ours.

I think the police should have every right to shoot you if you threaten them after they tell you to stop. If you can't understand the word 'freeze' or 'stop' in English, see the above lines.

I don't think, just because you were not born in this country, you are qualified for any special loan programs, government sponsored bank loans or tax breaks, etc., so you can open a hotel, coffee shop, trinket store, or any other business.

We did not go to the aid of certain foreign countries and risk our lives in wars to defend their freedoms, so that decades later they could come over here and tell us our constitution is a living document; and open to their interpretations.

I don't hate the rich I don't pity the poor

I know pro wrestling is fake, but so are movies and television. That doesn't stop you from watching them.

I think Bill Gates has every right to keep every penny he made and continue to make more. If it ticks you off, go and invent the next operating system that's better and put your name on a building.

It doesn't take a whole village to raise a child right, but it does take a parent to stand up to the kid; and smack their little behinds when necessary and say 'NO!'

I think tattoos and piercing are fine, if you want them, but please don't pretend they are a political statement. And please, stay home until that new lip ring heals. I don't want to look at your ugly infected mouth as you serve me French fries!.

I am sick of 'Political Correctness.' I know a lot of black people and not a single one of them was born in Africa; so how can they be 'African-Americans'? Besides, Africa is a continent. I don't go around saying I am a European-American because my great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather was from Europe. I am proud to be from America and nowhere else, just as Canadians and Australians are proud to be from their countries - and if you don't like my point of view, tough...

I PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO THE FLAG, OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, AND TO THE REPUBLIC, FOR WHICH IT STANDS, ONE NATION UNDER GOD, INDIVISIBLE, WITH LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL! And what about CANADIANS and AUSTRALIANS? We feel the same. Bravo for the Canadians and Australians too!!! It is said that 86% of Americans believe in God. Therefore I have a very hard time understanding why there is such a problem in having 'In God We Trust' on our money and having 'God' in the Pledge of Allegiance. Why don't we just tell the 14% to BE QUIET!!!.

Vest Say's I'll go along with that too except the tattoos and body piercings, and even the God segment in the last para despite belonging to a Non Prophet Organisation. Swearing on the Bible would not make me feel uncomfortable if for some obscure reason I was brought before the Beak.

Warning-- Young Men out shopping .'Beware of friendly old ladies'

Fred a kindly 30 year old living alone was in a supermarket when he was approached by a sweet old lady who exclaimed I can hardly believe it that you are the spitting image of my recently departed son. Fred said, "Well that is unusual"
She replied "Would you please call me Mother when ever you see me in future"
"Sure" say,s Fred,"Any time if it keeps you happy"
Going through the checkout the old lady told every one Fred was her son and waved to Fred as she left the supermarket. Fred then blew a kiss and said "Bye bye Mother".
Fred then asked at the checkout "Why is my bill over fifty dollars, I only have three cheap items", The checkout chick replied "Your mother said, you her son would be paying her bill".

SUCKER.

We Are What We Eat. A change in diet can reverse former problems.

Having been nurtured on anything that resembled food, mostly that which would be either fattening, unpalatable or poisonous to the system, I feel blessed having the choice of food that is now available in the society in which I now live.

This is where the post was hijacked by blogger

I have just lost an hours work thanks to blogger, I have tried to retrieve it nothing happened, auto saving gone wrong, trying to recap what one has written previously is nigh impossible. No I haven't smashed the place up in anger, screamed or kicked the dog, I am just more than slightly 'Cheesed off'. I shall resume hoping I'll pick up the threads. Saving as I go.


Back into the early 1930s The average person knew little about nutrition, if I am wrong and my parents and foster parents are looking down from above in wonder, my statement is not intended to be hurtful. However, my ideal breakfast now in its simplest form would read 'Banquet' compared to the offerings I had as a toddler, like last Tuesdays bread slapped over with a lashing of mutton dripping or pork if my Jewish grandma wasn't around.
Things changed dramatically when I was fostered out to a family who lived in a little village in the country; far away from the noise and smoke of London where I had acquired most of the ailments a child could pick up including life threatening diphtheria.
Settling down in the country required getting used to bee stings, nettles and living without plumbing or electricity,but the water was clean and pumped from a well and not delivered through lead pipes as was the case in those days in modern housing, however the food was nicer and more plentiful. My first taste of chicken was Christmas 32 where I was offered the 'Parsons nose'.
In those days there were few cars on the road to belch out the leaded exhaust fumes we are still getting today, we had fresh veggies straight from the garden or from storage in winter, ie bottled fruit etc, but we also had a deadly unseen thing lurking in most country houses.
Before myxomatosis came about many years after, the wild rabbit was a source of sustenance for the middle class down to the lower order within the country areas, they were acquired several ways by trapping shooting or bludgeoning at harvest time, the 1st and 3rd method was the most favoured.
Most of the village kitchens were similar to ours, which contained a large black oven and stove fueled by anything combustible,the stove would be cleaned with a black lead polish when cool. it took pride of place in most houses where we would use its warmth for comfort besides the cooking. Most villagers would at some time have a lucky rabbits foot, I could never work that one out as the rabbit had four and was the one going into the pot. I suppose bunny would get his revenge each time he was eaten.
The main culprit in the kitchen was the stove, where fine lead particles would infiltrate cooking utensils, also near where the man of the house would drink his ale from a lead based pewter jug. after a winter shoot the bigwigs of the village would offer rabbits to anyone who were hard up or unwise. Having cooked the bunny in the pot with veggies and miscellaneous other bits and pieces and getting into it, it would be quite common to find a dozen or more pieces of lead shot which would be surreptitiously removed as if nothing more than a small bone.
Through unfortunate circumstances I had to leave this Idyllic place that I loved. My education had suffered, which is hardly surprising having been fed a supplementary diet of lead and I suspect the educators were partially to blame.
During the next eighteen months I was fostered by another family whose ideals were far removed from my previous carers, but my education was given a boost and when I left I was accepted in a nautical preparatory school seven months prior to normal acceptance, but of course that is another story.
It is a pity that I didn't save a bit of that lead for my pencil, so I have been told by my nearest and dearest.

Follows, yet another excerpt from my memoirs.

I truly loved this house; it was a place of comfort to me. The interior of Number 11 started at the panelled front door with its brass letterbox, the letters of which would fall onto the reddish brown tiles of the hall floor and be put on the oak table beneath the carpeted staircase leading to the bedrooms. The pungent odour of wet coats hanging in the hall; or the smell of cooking would occasionally greet you when you opened the front door. The stuffed fox head above a full-length mirror grinned down at you as you entered the hall. On the first landing of the stairs was a portrait of Lord Kitchener with an inscription informing you that he died when the HMS Hampshire sank in 1916.
The bedroom I shared with my brother, Christopher was the first on the left on the top landing. It was a large, beautiful, sunny room with a small window facing the east and a larger one facing south. There was a small hole in the wall plaster, which got larger with our constant picking. Underneath the eaves of the house, the swallows would nest in the summer. Their droppings would fertilize the hollyhocks and the bright array of summer flowers growing below. The wonderful fragrance would waft upwards to our bedroom, hiding the smell from the chamber pot under the bed, which we frequently forgot to empty.
The spacious, eat-in kitchen with blue walls contained a large black cast iron stove and oven that was fuelled by coal or wood and cleaned with ‘Zebo’ brand black lead polish. (Primus kerosene stoves were the other cooking alternative.) Above, on the high mantelpiece, were the candlesticks used to guide our ascent to the bedrooms as well as the jars of silver paper from empty cigarette packets that were saved for charity. Hanging on the walls were the tools to administer the working of the fire and the lucky rabbit’s foot, which had belonged to an unlucky rabbit that was bludgeoned to death by my elder brother and then eaten by the family.
Two kerosene-powered Aladdin lamps with their distinctive white fragile mantles formed the centrepiece of the lounge room. There was also an open-hearth fireplace. Close to a window nearby, our radio, powered by an accumulator and high-tension battery, entertained us with shows, the news, and music from the BBC.
The hallway of Number 11 held great significance for me. It was the spot from where I would leave in torment and later return feeling joyful. Although the reasonably new house was lacking in facilities, it was a place where I would always feel welcome, loved and happy. So far in my travels, there had been nothing to better it.

PUSSY ON THE WILD SIDE. also RODENT STEW WITH DUMPLINGS.

OUR Three fostered Moggies left by #5 son for us to provide for and dig up our plants in the garden, are a fussy lot. The night before last their food was ignored, so last night we left them scraps on a dish in the garden; which was also ignored by the cats but not the early bird seeking the early worm.
As a result, two Pigeons and possibly three Mynah birds and a unidentifiable wee marsupial thingy fell in conflict with these feline killers. No Rats or Mice delivered to the door, otherwise someone may have given the following recipes a bit of a go, as a dummy run so to speak; should we fall on hard times. Well!! one never knows.

Rat & Mice Recipes For Hard Times?


Rat And Mouse Recipe

Mice aren't that bad. Especially not with chillies and tortillas! It's all how you look at them. When the big crash0 hits, you're going to drool for any extra mice running around your house.

RECIPE FOR "Enchiladas El Mouse-o EN EL HOUSE-O"

6 corn tortillas 6 mice parboiled, stripped, boned, chopped, seasoned. 2-3 large red dried chillies soaked in water 5 min. l chopped green onion, cilantro for decorating. oil/onions. salt pepper to taste,

Make regular enchilada sauce by grinding the soaked chillies in the pot liquor, and straining well to separate the chillie skin from the chillies red meat. Then, fry onions, throw sauce in for l minute. Set aside.

Heat tortillas on a greased skillet, drop into sauce until covered, pull out, then fill the sopping wet tortilla with about 2 tbsps. mouse burger, roll. Set rolls in a dish, line all six up. Pour remaining sauce on top. Decorate with any old cheese, l chopped green onion. Bake l5 min at 350.

Shepherd's PIE

Not every shepherd can dice a lamb every time his belly rumbles. So many have learned to make do with DICED FIELD MICE.

Take 4 potatoes, boil, mash, season, add cream, mash some more, line 8" pie shell with them.

Boil six medium sized mice. Rats are OK if you know what they've been eating. No Buick upholstery or graveyards.

If the rodents are the right size, you should have a cup of rat meat (depending if you've cleaned the carcasses well enough.) Season with salt, pepper, cayenne, add l cup blanched, chopped almonds, l cup cracker crumbs, l egg, (reserve l tsp for topping) making a burger. OPTIONAL: bell pepper, onions, cilantro, parsley, thyme, oregano, l can creamed corn, l can of those crunchy Chinese things, water chestnuts, chopped olives, a dash of cat sup or tomato sauce.

Fill the pie. Cover with more potatoes. Use egg/cream to wipe down pie so it toasts brownish in oven.

Remember, a rabbit is just a big rodent. The taste of the flesh is identical. Ask any concentration camp visitor.

TIP: when cooking rodents, pre-soaking up to 5 hours helps take away that pesky rodent flavor. AND the longer you cook it, with the other ingredients, the better the meat tastes.

Bon App'etit, Vest Daily Gaggle.

What Goes Around Comes Around. Ghosts of the Past Again.

Vest said...
It seems little snippets of my memoirs are filtering around the world, this is about the severe punishment meted out at my naval college when I was a youngster. Even using fictitious names for the college and staff it now emerges that the person whose grandfather was the perpetrator has communicated with me and requires more info. The message reads.

Ed has left a new comment on your post "A Dire Warning To Would be Drug Traffickers": July:08, archives.
---------------
Thank you very much for posting your info about the Naval training school. I think I know which one it really was as my grandfather was the flogger mentioned. I am sorry to find out he was such a nasty character but would love to know more about him please get in touch if you can - my email is (censored)

Sunday, 14 September 2008 10:39:00 AM EST.
---------------
Replying to your request for further info on Flogger Campbell.
The title 'Flogger' was not known to me while I was a student.
It surfaced within a pamphlet written by a former student whom I knew. At the moment I am franticly searching for it among my hoarded treasures. From it I gathered, that the school experienced a major insurrection around 1949, Many boys 'doing a bunk' and eventually being caught were severely punished with many strokes of a large rattan cane by yours truly, it seems he was brought to book, however, I shall search for this info and send on should I find it.
Captain Campbell the school supervisory officer, was a former Lt/Cmd retired when I went there 16:12:1936 - 7:1:42. He was called up during the war but returned shortly after the death of Admiral Sir Edward Eaton-Ellis (hope I got the name correct ) Pop Admiral as he was called filled the war time gap as the school boss.
The Con job. Ok now I shall inform you it was *I Leslie Jxxxxx Bxxxxxxx who wrote the book mentioned shortly.
Hope the info which follows this letter will be helpful.

You may contact me also at,* (censored)*

--------------------



The gymnasium at Watts



There is no doubt that the Barnados sea schools were very good and very successful. On the discipline front the procedure at Russell Cotes and then Parkstone as it became was the usual defaulters' report and then between three and six 'cuts' in the gymnasium over the horse, in private but with the inflicting Petty Officer plus three officers. No ritual or special dress and executed very formally and properly. At Watts up to 1926 it was done with trousers off and the boy strapped over a four-legged horse and biting on a lump of cloth, and always with either the entire school or the defaulter's division mustered to witness it. Afterwards it was over either naval shorts or P.E. shorts in the gym. Cdr 'Flogger' Campbell was in charge between 1934 and 1940, and then back again in 1943 following a war wound. The wound did not appear to impede the movement of his right arm! He usually meted out the canings himself in his own study, and there were reported instances of it being on the bare. Campbell was dismissed in 1946 . The reason was the result of 37 boys enjoying a mass absconding, which was more for devilry and a bit of apple-scrumping than anything else. The less resolute came back within an hour or so and were locked in a basement cellar. It took two days for the remainder to be brought back. It seems that Campbell held the equivalent of a court martial and every boy was sentenced to 12 cuts of the cane. The canings took over two hours to complete, done in the basement cellar with the vaulting horse taken there complete with canvas strappings. The boys were caned on their bare backsides and it was said that their yelps could be heard in the classrooms. Two boys, on being released, ran off again and when caught by the police one of them revealed the state of his buttocks. A police doctor was brought in and then a complaint went to Barnados. Campbell retired on grounds of 'ill health' shortly afterwards. That is the only known instance of abuse at Watts, otherwise the discipline was very strict but fairly imposed.
I did hear that Campbell retired to live near Watlington at place called Brightwell in Oxfordshire. but not too sure, as it was 2nd hand info.I hope the info I have sent is satisfactory. ....... Vest ........ or J L Spencer.my pen name.

Reply:Hello,

Thank you so much for replying so quickly. It really is amazing how the internet helps with these things. My mother (Captain Campbells daughter) was sent off with her mum and twin sister to Boars hill during the war. Captain Campbell divorced my grandmother and I know a lot less about him than my grandmother and her family. I'm beginning to think my mother was so quiet about him because he was such a nasty character.

I am getting the family tree together and I will send you more information as I get it. Its funny that you are from Oxfordshire as that is the part of England that meant most to my mother. She is buried in Berwick Salome (which I think is quite close to Chalgrove) along with her mother.

I am in an internet cafe now so I can't write for long but I will get back to you again soon.

This email address is the best to use for me. I use my hotmail account only when I have to leave an email address somewhere where it might get picked up by spam robots.

Thanks very much for all the information you have already sent.

Best regards,

Edward.

Ed: It seems your Mothers final address in the 50s was as I thought, all places mentioned were within a straight 3 miles of one another.

Shopping for profit

Yesterday I decided or better we; that is er indoors my nearest and dearest and myself to venture forth for some retail therapy and escape from this sedentary life of blogging.
We had stacks of time to meander around and compare prices around the super market. left without purchasing anything which had my wife, a black belt in shopping agitated. We then toddled off to the veggie shop owned by a Lebanese Christian bloke whose assistant an aged pommie moron never short of dirty yarn was pissed off when I told him straight that it was time to get this business in order as the quality was degenerating as well as the prices exorbitant.
Well armed with a mind full of local rip offs we did a tour of the Aldi Shopping complex in Tuggerah(NSW OZ), Where my wife discovered the secrets of economical shopping where it is estimated a $100-00 cartful cost 25 bucks less than the traditional shopping outlets.
The veggie market was again a winner, Broccoli at 99cents a kilo so were BR/sprouts, pink lady apples, and zucchinis and a full bunch of celery 99cents. I estimated a saving of around 60% compared to our locals.
We then indulged in lunch at maccas on the highway. large fries, cheeseburger and a orange drink each cost $4 -00 all up $8 -00 bucks. our local greasy spoon cafe charges double that. Leaving the rest room at maccas a guy who owes me 50 bucks came in and shot into one of the cubicles when he saw me, "Crikey am I that frightening", the guy is a lesser defaulter I have already written off.
Then we visited 'Dan Murphy's' the discount grog shop that is larger than central station, we bought six bottles of famous grouse scotch at $23-99 a bot and after a little haggling received six free gifts of one Tee and a golf ball, the geezer in front got the one Tee and a golf ball for one bottle. So I demanded six or I would check one bottle at a time.
Today the wife checked her shopping list and discovered an anomaly on the check out at Aldi stores, this only amounted to about $6-00. A letter is already in the post to the store manager, together with a copy of the checkout bill.
This will be the final post for this week as all this sitting parked on a chair
is making my legs go wonky and it's important I leave our club premises behaving in a sober manner-after a skinful tomorrow night.
Question: What is a Wonky?. Answer on Sunday. ta for now vest.

Answer: A three legged Donkey.

Back home again.

Returned from Huskisson late yesterday from attending our #2sons 3rd wedding. A very lavish affair which was attended by about 300 people on our sons 5 acre W/front property. Everything went to plan apart from the six inches of rain which failed to put a damper on things, adequate cover had been planned beforehand.
It was like a huge family reunion, but without any bitching for once. well I'm not saying anything untoward to keep the peace. The reception went on from 330 pm to past midnight when by that time we were full to the gunwales. Our son Christopher drove our car there and back other wise I would have had to wait two days for the breathalyzer to read minus.
Well that's about all; it's hardly something a mere male can elaborate on apart from wishing the happy couple the usual condolences and of course the best of luck in the future, and hope they will live happily ever after.
Vest.

Future not pretty for 'Ugly Mayor'.More Men available than Women.

What began as a 'beauty disadvantaged story in the outback town of Mount Isa has become bigger and uglier. The sordid story unfolded two weeks ago in the two horse township far out beyond the black stump in rural Queensland Australia.
Furious residents are up in arms-protesting to the suggestions of this mining town Mayor John Malony, who has called for unattractive ladies to move to his town which in his view, is over populated by sex deprived miners and it would help to redress the gender imbalance.
Fellow female councillors are labeling his suggestions as degrading and disgusting and he should be fired from office. It was suggested at a unofficial gathering that the women town elders would be deprived of their pick of the huge number of available men.
Mr Malony the Mayor has stated the situation has blown out of proportion and he was telling it like it is in small towns, and he was a bloke who respected women.
He further suggested that if there are five blokes to every girl, we should find out where there are 'beauty disadvantaged women and ask them to proceed to Mount Isa
where happiness awaits.
Federal MP Bob Katter hailed the Mayor a 'National hero" and said he had succeeded in drawing attention to the problem of attracting women to the bush.
The town is desperately short of women. We just haven't got women here.
It seems that women taking up this offer whether they are ten drinks beautiful or not, are guaranteed a date or even wedding bells and are advised to leave their bedroom toys behind as they will be a thing of the past and only the real thing is on offer.
So if you are a contrary Mary, a twelve stone fairy or a bulging hairy, your chances are as good as a Rosa or liza to become mounted in horny outback Mount Isa.

Vest, Daily Gaggle.

Sharia law, A Social and Humanitarian Disease. A litany of Sin.

This is a follow on from the previous post, Just another extension of the lunacy and hidden depravities rarely exposed to the outside world of the non Muslim population.
There are several Muslim sects throughout the world, some more moderate than the others and usually at loggerheads with each other, Their glossary of archaic laws which defy the laws of commonsense and decency are frequently spelled out to non believers in the form of indescribable acts of bestiality and cruelty not tolerated by the forward thinking - freedom loving population of our world. Following is another instance.
ABUJA. An 84-year old man from Nigeria with 86 wives and 170 children has accepted a decree Issued by Islamic authorities that he must divorce 82 of them.
A local Emir stated that, Mohamadu Bello Abubakar has agreed to the mass divorce.
And not before time say I, this guy must have been in the rackets to be able to provide for such a large family. Probably one of those geezers involved in the dodgy banking scams or a successful camel train robber.
This former teacher and preacher faced the death penalty under Sharia law, which was reintroduced to the Muslim-majority Niger state in northwest Nigeria in 2000, It was for a while in the 60's? named Biafra, it was also a time when they faced starvation during the civil war with the ruling Govt in the south, I was one of the many sympathetic people who contributed to the array of do gooder funds helping the underfed populace. However, while the death sentence was lifted, Abubukar still faced eviction from his home.
During interviews several weeks previously Abubukar claimed there was no punishment in the Koran for having more than four wives but the Nigerian Supreme Council for Islamic affairs said; Sharia law clearly limited a man to four wives. That law clashed with the so called Old testament book,'Testimonials One' Para 1, Sentence 1,
A man may only have as many wives as he has Penises.
I recall going back many years to the 50-60s when visiting the cultural part of Nigeria, Lagos the Capital then, and the rickety bridge spanning the Bensafrim river, Carter bridge is now of sturdy concrete and steel whereas the old bridge mainly wooden, where school kids when crossing it would sing "Carter bridge is falling down" to the same tune as the one that was demolished in London and re erected in America.

Vest. Daily Gaggle.

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A Two -Headed Baby. Also MP Defends Live Burials. And A Cat with Four Ears.

Two-headed baby under police guard

A baby boy born with two heads has been put under police guard in a Bangladesh hospital after a 15,000 strong mob arrived to look at it.

The baby, named Kiron, weighed 5.5kg when he was born on Monday morning by caesarean in Keshobpur.

Gynaecologist Mohamad Abdul Bari said: "He has one stomach and he is eating normally with his two mouths. He has one genital organ and a full set of limbs.

"He was born from one embryo but there was a developmental anomaly."

Doctors have been unable to determine whether the baby has one or two sets of vital organs.

Due to the large crowds gathering at the hospital to try and see the baby, both the mother, 22, and son have been moved to a larger hospital and the police have been called in.

"Around 150,000 people gathered yesterday from different areas. It became tough for us to care for the baby,” Mr Bari added.

"We called police to tackle the situation and they are guarding the hospital in Jessore as well."
...........
Live Burials? Yes that is right, and Quite Rightly so says Muslim MP.
ISLAMABAD: A Pakistan politician has defended a decision by southwestern tribesmen to bury five women alive, Simply because they wanted to choose their own husbands.
This Pig headed goon obviously influenced by Archaic Sharia Laws, asked stunned Pakistani MP's to spare him their outrage. This boneheaded twit stated 'These are centuries old traditions and I will continue to defend them"
Isra Ullah Zeri, who represents Baluchistan, said yesterday. "Only those who indulge in immoral acts shoud be afraid.?
The women, Three of them teenagers, were first shot and then thrown in a ditch.
They were still breathing as their bodies were covered with mud
According to media reports, which said their "crime" was wishing to marry men of their own choosing.

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


He may have the usual nine lives... but this cool cat also has FOUR ears.

Two-year-old Yoda - named after the pointy-eared Star Wars character - is lapping it up as America's oddest pet.

He was adopted by Valerie and Ted Rock after they found him prowling a bar near their home in Chicago, Illinois. Now they've had him electronically tagged.

"He's so special we don't want to lose him," says Val. "He's very affectionate and we have great fun showing him off."

She admits he does appear a bit strange at first. But then lugs aren't everything..