She feeds me

I met Ale in Guayaquil. She was 14 with wild curly hair, passionate eyes and bee-sting lips.
At that time she had a radio show of her own, a wide interest in music and was on her way to study law. 22 years on after discovering there really is no justice she has turned to her 2nd passion - playwriting - and is slowly carving a niche for herself there.  What I really love is Alejandra feeds me music. A couple of times a week she sends me a variety of music clips which Skye & Kirk LOVE.

Today Ale sent me this;  Calle 13 - Latin America   (translation here: http://lyricstranslate.com/en/latinoamerica-add-english-title-here.html)

Next Project

I reckon we could make one of these - on the far side of the big dam. We'd have to remove the barbed wire fence though. Who's gunna drive the suzi? (Link thanks to Michelle)

Middle Age

Middle age is when women fail to care what others think about their natural functions. As I exited the IGA tonight with a dirty, grumpy baby on my shoulder and a pack of sanitary pads the teenage, male cashier said, "Have a good night!"  I waved the flowery pack of vaginal dressings at him and replied,
"Do you REALLY think I'm going to have a good night?"

Stories for posterity

Kirk started learning basic circuits today. One of the things we made was a pot plant water tester (continuity circuit) so he went around testing everything: a grapefruit, Skye's milk, the soil outside, the dog's tongue and then his own tongue. Mmm...interesting...that will be a story for the first girl he brings home.

New Words

My client wrote this:

We are well aware that the rates of cancer are monsiderably higher in rural areas due to poor GP coverage so cancers are caught at much later stages. 

And from a student, Volumptuous.

English is a great language.

The Happy Camper

Kirk is ensconced in his new tent - with his books and fairly lights. I wonder if he will last the night?

PS Thanks for the tent, Rob! It's had a lot of use and it's about to get a lot more :-)

Shelly V Miss Kate

This week I successfully persuaded the grade 9 girls class that protest poetry was worth their while so I feel the enormous efforts I made and risks I took were worthwhile. Shelly's sonnet, England in 1819, baffled them. Sinead's, Rebel Song entranced them, and then Miss Kate's, "To Thineself be True" which I had on an old CD from our old poetry club days, shocked them completely. Today, the third lesson, I lightened up and we just did a bit of onomatopoeia, attempting to write the sounds of an angry cat in a cardboard box...they liked that...

Screwing Around With Pipes

Today Cate recounted an article on TV about an old Italian water diviner living in Victoria. Apparently he sticks a section of PVC on his penis and walks around the property until it points him towards the underground water source.

THE IMAGES IN MY HEAD ARE FRIGGIN' BRILLIANT. It took me a fair while to stop laughing...

The ensuing conversation with Sean;

T: So HOW did he develop his technique?
S: Men will stick their dicks in anything.
T: So what caused him to be wandering around outside with his penis stuck in a pipe?
S: Well, you've already got it in there...why not take it for a walk?
I suppose that pretty well sums up the male-logic side of things.

READERS: Feedlines please!


Investor: Maybe there's a market for those things in Papua New Guinea?
SCA member: Hell of a codpiece dude!