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DesDownunder

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Blog Entries posted by DesDownunder

  1. DesDownunder
    Recently I fell into that awful trap of missing out on a daily shower.
    This sometimes happens to techie types.
    A quick sponge-over was all I could manage.
    The next day as I prepared for my shower, I looked aghast at my pubic hair.
    It had lost its curl.
    The short and curlies were long and laying quite flat.
    Perplexed and not a little unconcerned, I proceeded with the bathing ritual, showering with as much gay abandon as I could.
    After my shower I looked once more at the offending hairs only to notice that the curls had returned in all their glory.
    Once more I could be known as afro groin, or should that be aphro groin?
    Still I cannot help but wonder if I gave up showering, would the rest of me become straight too?
    Don't tell Fred Phelps
    He might picket the showers.

  2. DesDownunder
    Sometimes we just get carried away with a story or other kind of work, that makes us so pleased we lived long enough to read it or see it or hear it.
    So in a fit of rampant abandonment of all restraint I have taken down my treasured Avatar that means a great deal to me personally.
    My new avatar is probably a better description of me anyway. I certainly feel related to him.
    Anyway I would like to announce that I will now use my EnthMan symbol (my old avatar) as symbol of my appreciation of work that for me exemplifies quality and excellence in its field of artistic endeavour, including literature, visual and audio arts and anything else I feel like presenting it to.
    Why not make a symbol too and present it to people who have provided you with the pleasure of their talents.
    No No do not send sticky stamps of your symbol to your favourite film star,
    That is not what I mean.

    I am pleased to announce the first recipients are Cole Parker for Duck Duck Goose.
    Codey for From the Heart
    And Camy/Codey for the song Broken Heart.
    Please remember folks this is just me recognising my favourite meaningful works.
  3. DesDownunder
    After ten minutes of writing and weeks of adjusting the words, I am pleased to
    announce that my new series, Doors of Love, based on my blog entries of the
    same title, has begun at my hosted pages at Codey's World.
    Chapters 1 and 2 are pretty much as they were posted in my blog.
    This week chapter 3 is up and is little more than a short bridging scene to the
    new story which begins properly (or improperly if you like) in chapter 4 due next week.
    There are 7 chapters in all and it is completed waiting only for my editor Blue to find time to work his magic.
    Please share your reactions with me. I love to know how you liked/loathed it.
    Open the Doors of Love
  5. DesDownunder
    Here is where the quote came from:
    Sanson: ...................Why are you poets so fascinated with madmen?
    Cervantes:................We have much in common.
    Sanson: ...................You both turn your backs on life?
    Cervantes.................We both select from life!
    Sanson:...................A man has to come to terms with life as it is.
    Cervantes:

    Life as it is.
    I have lived for over forty years, and I've seen...
    life as it is.
    Pain...
    misery...
    cruelty beyond belief.
    I've heard all the voices of God's noblest creature.
    Moans from bundles of filth in the street.
    I've been a soldier and a slave.
    I've seen my comrades fall in battle...
    or die more slowly under the lash in Africa.
    I've held them at the last moment.
    These were men who saw life as it is.
    Yet they died despairing.
    No glory, no brave last words.
    Only their eyes, filled with confusion...
    questioning why.
    I do not think they were asking why they were dying...
    but why they had ever lived.
    When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies?
    Perhaps to be too practical is madness.
    To surrender dreams, this may be madness.
    To seek treasure where there is only trash...
    too much sanity may be madness!
    And maddest of all...
    to see life as it is and not as it should be! from, Man of la Mancha. Film script.
    http://www.script-o-rama.com/movie_scripts...transcript.html
    For Man of la Mancha history of the playmusical see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Man_of_La_Mancha
    So you might think because the exact quote I used is not in these words, that I cheated. Yet I am not happy to claim the quote as my own, the sentiment is just so obviously what is behind the above speech.
    Thus I wrote:
    Madness is to believe that only reality is sanity
    Furthermore;
    To make it your quest, for life to be as it should be, is not an impossible dream.
    So I default because of my little subterfuge and you are all winners, everyone of you.
    But I think Rad Steven saw through it first.
    Your prize is waiting for you at my hosted page at Codey?s World, the next chapters of the Doors of Love.
    Don?t worry I won?t be sleeping alone.
  6. DesDownunder
    On top of the other disasters that 2007 seemed to bring (fence falling over, cars that thought we had a pension plan, water heater that blew up and a few other major catastrophes like the computer needing replacement etc, etc, etc. I am delighted to inform you all that it hasn't finished yet!
    We are in our ninth day of 35 C heat, that's almost 100 F, with no cool change in sight till the 20th March at the earliest. Yes its a record heatwave for March in Adelaide.
    So go on, guess what broke down this time?
    Yes, you got it the -$%*)*&&^$##@% air conditioner!
    At least the computer seems okay working in the 40 C degree heat. CPU reads 55 C.
    So please excuse me if I seem a little short tempered or heated, as I am HOT and not in a good way.
    Okay, okay, was I ever that hot? Yes I was, thank you very much.
    So I am hot bothered, bewitched and bewildered as to why the air conditioner broke down. It just sits their and groans intermittently. They don't make them like they used to. It's only 35 years old. I am nearly twice its age and I don't groan do I?
    No need to answer that!

  7. DesDownunder

    65. Hot Aussies

    By DesDownunder,

    It's official folks, Adelaide in the state of South Australia has endured its longest heat wave on record.
    Generally a heat wave is considered to be the number of days with the temperature reaching or exceeding 100 ?F or 37.8 ?C.
    Well, we just had 15 days over 35 ?C and believe me that was hot enough. I had to drive 22 Kilometres each day in a car with no air conditioning. I had a wet towel around my neck to survive. Yesterday I broke out into heat rash, but it has subsided with today's cooler weather.
    What was the world's longest heat wave?
    The record for the world's longest heat wave goes to Marble Bar in Western Australia. From October 31, 1923 to April 07, 1924 the temperature broke the 100 ?F mark setting the heat wave record at a scorching 160 days.
    Where is the hottest place on Earth? Temperature records from weather stations give that distinction to El Azizia, Libya, which hit a sweltering 57.8 degrees Celsius (136 F) on September 13, 1922, but there have likely been hotter locations beyond the scattered network of weather stations. (such as my bedroom in 1963 -1971.)
    Now if any of you kewl dudes want to come down here and help cool me down, please understand if I don't want to cuddle.

  8. DesDownunder
    Some time ago I was at the local office warehouse where they had these you-beaut $400 office chairs on sale for $99.
    So of course always willing to save money by spending it, I bought one.
    It was terrific. It had a gas lift that worked. My old chair didn't do that. The new one could up and down at the touch of a lever. Kewl! If I lent back it reclined till I was almost horizontal. I was having fantasies of sex in a chair.
    Like all new love affairs, I then started to discover its failings. The biggest one was that the seat was designed for a posterior three times the size of mine. It was truly an office manager's chair. I could cuddle two secretaries in this chair, it was so huge.
    Also over time I started to develop a bad back. The little disc thingies in my spine would jump out of position and twang, I was in agony until I clicked it back. The new chair was an object of abject disappointment. It had one saving grace; it's lift mechanism worked so I could sit at the right height to the desk.
    Well the recent hot weather took its toll on my poor spine and I thought I had reached the end of days. My legs had seized up and I had an agonising pain from my rear end down to my calf muscles, (such as they are. Don't get excited.)
    Then the weather dropped 20 degrees. And my spine snapped frozen with the disc in the wrong position.
    The b/f was asking if he should ring the doctor or the undertaker. I'm not certain which he preferred.
    The doctor was no help. He gave me a flu injection which made my arm hurt.
    I searched the Internet for treatment of the symptoms. Eureka! Chiropractor! Of course why didn't I think of that.
    The chiropractor listened to my tale of woe about my tail.
    Snap, crack and a pop, and all was well. What a great man he is.
    He said I wasn't sitting up straight.
    So I told him I couldn't do that because I was gay. He rolled his eyes.
    He then explained that the trouble was with my chair not supporting my lumbar region properly.
    Aha -so down to the used car parts I go and buy a secondhand sports-car bucket seat.
    I found one that fitted me perfectly. It had a sticker on it that read "Crash Proof."
    Back home after drilling and tapping holes and threads, I fitted this futuristic flight seat to the base of the chair.
    I sat down and adjusted the height and the back until I was cocooned in the comforting protection of this wonderful seat.
    "Houston? Houston, I say, I am ready for take off."
    "And there is DesDownUnder form Oz lined up for the start of the Indianapolis 500. Vroom, vroom."
    "Warp nine, Mr Spock."
    Oh Wow, this great.
    What's more I won't be killed the next time Windows crashes.
    I wonder if I should fit an air bag to the monitor?

  9. DesDownunder
    Writer?s Blog
    By DesDownUnder ?2008
    Blog?s can be really great fun to write.
    No pressure, no meaning to requite,
    No Pulitzer Prize to win
    Just meandering words,
    Fooling around in sin,
    Looking for pity, or worse.
    So why can?t I find a way to deflect
    The horrors of my day in some subject
    With electronic pen
    To write and please, of course,
    All those who come to spend,
    Some time, looking at my curse.
    Alone I sit watching an empty screen,
    Patiently waiting for those words unseen,
    Yet this cannot be so,
    Some word not to be first,
    From all those that I know,
    Not to start, a new verse.
    Lurking in the back of my blanked out mind,
    Are all those needed words I cannot find,
    As they hide and huddle
    ?Fraid of my writer?s blog
    I realise my trouble
    Is really writer?s block.
  11. DesDownunder
    69 is not my age , I ain't that old ...yet!
    Well here we are at the 69th blog entry. 69 I guess it will have to be a double entry ey?
    ?ʎǝ ʎɹʇuǝ ǝlqnop ɐ ǝq oʇ ǝʌɐɥ llıʍ ʇı ssǝnƃ I 96 ˙ʎɹʇuǝ ƃolq ɥʇ96 ǝɥʇ ʇɐ ǝɹɐ ǝʍ ǝɹǝɥ llǝʍ
    I can hardly believe how cold it has become. A month ago I was sitting here naked in oppressive heat and now my extremities are frozen. Oh and that is with clothes in case you are wondering. which I hope you were and no doubt weren't.
    Soixante-neuf Warning XXX.
    Of course if you are 69-ing you can get hot for a while. On the other-hand, which takes some working out when you 69, whose hand is that? Am I upside down or am I downunder? If I wasn't in Australia would I be downunder or up-over. 69-ing is so confusing. I don't know what has come over me, oh wait a minute, yes I do.
    And then you are cold again, and wet. I wonder if the hot water is working I could have a spa. Can you 69 in the spa bath? Will the bubbles get up my nose? Will the jets of water bubble up and drown me in a sea of foaming water? Should I get a snorkel? You have one? Built in you say? Kewl!
    Wanna play submarines? Torpedoes away. Firing number 2, loading number 3.
    Will I see men in the reflection on the bathroom mirrors, or will they be fogged up?
    Something will get fogged up I suppose. I should get a fog-horn. What flavour soap is this? It is quite tasty.
    Now for the warm fluffy towels and the cosy wrap of the muscly arms. The breath of love and the damn alarm, just as I was about to dream of
    You
    ǝɯ
    sigh,
  12. DesDownunder
    As most people know I am an insomniac except when I am asleep.
    It is not unusual for me to slip into bed at 4, 5 or even 6 am.
    Snuggled safely in bed alngside the boyfriend, I eventually drift into the land of dream boys.
    So it seems, does the boyfriend!
    I went to bed at 3 am this morning and was laying there waiting to fall to sleep, when suddenly the b/f stopped snoring and began making wild noises. His arms and legs flurried in all directions. The bed covers fell to the floor in fright.
    His elbow landed in the middle of my chest as his hand hit me in the mouth.
    He sat up in bed. I felt my chest and then my mouth.
    "Are you awake," I asked with a calmness that surprised me as I checked with my tongue to see if I had lost any more teeth.
    "I was dreaming," he said, "I dreamt I was chasing Tom Cruise."
    Now this came as a shock. I made no reply. He didn't usually go for Tom's type. Silence replaced our dreams.
    Finally I spoke into the darkness, "Did you at least think I was Tom?"
    "No, no." He replied, "I dreamt he had broken into our house and was robbing us. So I chased him out of the house."
    "My hero," I said. He giggled that same cute giggle he has been using ever since I met him.
    "What the hell could we have that Tom doesn't have better?" I asked, "Why would he want to steal from us?"
    "I don't know, I just chased him out the door." said the b/f. "It was only a dream."
    "I'll move out if you want him to move in," I said, sadly.
    "Don't be #f%&(* stupid. I'm going back to sleep," he said as he rolled over.
    I am wide awake.

  13. DesDownunder
    "Hold still," said the doctor, "It is just a little prick."
    "Not from what I have heard," I told him.
    "Oh, and what have you heard?" he said with menace in his eyes as he waved the needle in his hand.
    I thought better than to antagonize the poor man, after all he was nearly as old as me.
    "Have you had your flu injection?" I asked.
    "Yes I have," he responded, "so I know how small a prick it is. But this isn't your flu injection. You had that last month. This one is your pneumonia shot and is even smaller."
    And with that he jabbed the needle into my arm, squeezed the plunger and muttered the standard physician's "ah hmm."
    "What does that mean?" I asked, "Did the needle break off in my arm? Did you miss the mark? Is it the wrong injection? How long have I got left?"
    "Not long at all if you don't be quiet," he grinned, his teeth snarling as he inspected the remains of the syringe.
    "Why can't these things come in a pill or a capsule? I'm very good at swallowing," I said.
    The good doctor rolled his eyes and then looked at me with mischief in both eyes. "You mean you can shut your mouth long enough to swallow?"
    "Oh I can swallow with my mouth open." I said.
    He looked vanquished as he replied, " I should have seen that one coming."
    "I usually can," I offered helpfully.
    "I'm sure you can."
    He placed a band-aid on my arm.
    "There that will probably be sore tomorrow, but at least you have some protection now."
    "So I don't need to wear a condom anymore?" I asked.
    "Only if you know the prick hasn't been infected," he roared with laughter as he opened the door to show me out.
    "Pay the nurse on the way out," he said still chuckling.
    "Oh," I said, "That would be for the money shot, then?"
    "Your scaring the other patients," he said as he shut the door.
    "All fixed?" asked the nurse as I paid her.
    "All depends what you mean by "fixed," I said as I left.
    Going to the doctors is so much fun.
  14. DesDownunder
    So how do you tell if a guy is straight?
    Well there are certain tell-tale signs if you know what to look for.
    The most obvious one is to watch a guy when a girl walks by.
    If his tongue falls out of his mouth and he does an impersonation of a slobbering, St Bernard dog, with drool reaching down and catching on his shirt, then you can possibly be certain he is interested in at least one woman from a hormonal point of view.
    What if there are no woman around though? Well, there are certain little things that give straight guys away.
    Watch the way they hold the newspaper or magazine in the bus or train. They don't hold the magazine with finesse.
    The grip the pages between their thumb and index finger instead of delicately holding the edge of the page with their finger tips.
    When they sit down they will lean forward and then drop into the seat with such force that the back of the chair or seat bends out of shape.
    Speaking of shape, a straight guy will generally have no sense of his butt. He doesnt wiggle it as he walks and he drags his feet in a kind of shuffle that has parents yelling at him to lift his feet.
    He also slouches, giving you an early view of what age will do to his abdomen.
    Getting back to walking; it is really more a lurch to the left and then to the right. This can be rather charming in an apish sort of way as it indicates a gentle soul who hasn't yet learned to aggressively plod one foot after another in attempt to intimidate the hell out of all the other straight guys.
    One of the dead give aways of a straight guy is the way they incline their heads when talking. You can see this quite clearly in those men who feel they know everything (another straight trait). Also watch them driving their cars. They hold their arms out of the window at stop lights with the palm of their hand down. Their other arm is usually rubbing their nuts. When they drive off the external arm changes position to grab onto the roof of the car to make sure it doesnt lift off.
    Straight guys in cars rarely see cute guys on motorbikes and often just plough straight into them. This is different to gay guys who gently nudge the bike with their cars to let the bike rider know he is attractive in those leathers.
    Speaking of leather; then there is the belt. Straight guys wear belts; thin leather belts in trousers that have no hope of falling down. Totally useless belts.
    Wide leather belts with crazy designs and buckles are okay because they adorn the entrance to a horny Valhalla, but generally speaking most gay guys don't wear belts as they just delay the entry of the gods.
    Watch their eyes. If the iris of the eye widens as they look at you, just hand them your personal card with your cell phone number on it, or simply ask if they would like to see your new sheets on your bed. That one is not straight.
    Then again there are guys who do all these things because they think it is acting straight that will land them a gay guy for the night or weekend or even a lifetime.
    How bent is that?
  15. DesDownunder
    At my advanced years, even though I don't feel that old on Mondays and Fridays, I am wondering what I can do to help the world come to terms with gay marriage.
    So I thought I could start a gay marriage counselling service for straight people.
    Make that straight men. Someone else can help the women. I haven't a great deal of hands on experience with lesbian sex.
    Anyway back to my get rich quick scheme. I think I should make a charge for the service, afterall I have been subjected to some pretty nasty homophobic taunts due to straight guys not understanding about the gay lifestyle.
    I read in the press that straight guys have said they do not understand gay marriage or why gay guys would want to get married.
    Sooo I thought to help out, for a small fee, I would be willing to show straight guys why gays get married.
    I could counsel them on many of the benefits of two guys being married.
    You know, the fact that guys, want it when guys want it. No more "Not tonight dear, I have a headache."
    Instead they would learn about gay guys aching from getting head all night long.
    I could demonstrate for my clients how only a gay guy knows how to...and to....as well as cook breakfast.
    I think I could do a really good deal for colleges on gay semenars. ( no I didn't misspell that.)
    Of course private counselling would cost more depending on the depth of information the client wanted to go in for.
    I wonder if I could get a James Marsden look a like to help with the demonstrations.
    Mature age excellence in all matters of gay marriage. Buy one get two. (must be used on the same night).
    But that's not all. Order your special one on one gay marriage counselling for straight guys now, and get a free set of matching condoms with your favourite guys initials embroidered on them.
    Don't be the last one in your street to know about the joys of gay marriage.
    I'm exhausted. I need to lay down on the bed...
    Damn, the sheets need changing again.
  16. DesDownunder
    It's been a month since I had the time to write a note in here.
    My new duties as admin for the Forums have absorbed some of my free time, but mostly I have been down with a bug.
    I would give a description of its symptoms but I don't want to put you off your next meal.
    I went to the doctor who assured me I wasn't dying yet. "When?" I asked.
    "How the hell should I know?" he replied.
    "Well you are the doctor."
    "I am as old as you," he told me, "I don't know anymore than you do."
    "That's scary," I mumbled.
    "What?" he asked.
    "That's what I want to know. What are we going to do about this bug?"
    "I think you are almost over it. Go get some sleep."
    "Sleep? I've been asleep for two days now."
    "Sleep is good." He said as seemed to waver in his chair.
    "Are you okay Doctor? You look a little green."
    "I don't feel well, 'he said.
    "Where?" I asked.
    "Where, what?"
    "Where don't you feel well?"
    "All over. I feel like I am going to barf."
    "Barf! Is that a medical term?"
    "It's as good as any."
    "Should I get a bucket or a bowl?"
    "What for?"
    For a doctor he sure can be dumb.
    "So you can barf into it."
    "I'm not going to barf. I just need to sleep. I think I will take the rest of the day off."
    "What about the patients?"
    "You were the last one," he announced as if the Apocalypse had just commenced.
    "Lock the door on your way out will you? I gotta get some sleep. I'm going home to bed."
    I watched somewhat astounded as he got up and left the room.
    I quickly followed, turning out the lights and pulled the door to lock behind me.
    The doctor was getting into his car. He turned and looked at me.
    "You should get some sleep yourself." He started his car.
    "Do you mean we should sleep together, at last?" I called out to him.
    "Don't make me barf," he yelled as he backed out of the driveway.
    "Thanks," I called back to him, "that hasn't helped me feel good at all!"
    He beeped his car horn and drove away.
    Oh well he didn't charge for the insult.

  17. DesDownunder
    A Heinz Mayo food advertisement has been criticised in the UK for a gay kiss between two men. This has caused a reaction from all quarters of society. I though an Australian 'take' on this might be illuminating even if it is a bit satirical.
    Just for interest, it is true that an Australian TV series called 'Number 96' showed Aussie TV's first gay kiss in 1974.
    Because of that, Australia has become a country of homosexuals ever since. We constantly arrest people from the general community and put them in homosexual training centres called jails.
    Heterosexual people often confuse gay sex with their own revulsion of natural bodily functions. This has caused many of them to lead very unimaginative sex lives, much to their partners' dismay. Gay people have organised street parades called 'Gay Mardi Gras' and 'Gay Festivals' in nearly every Australian city. Wild parties are being hosted everywhere by gay people to try to show heterosexual couples that sex can be fun.
    However we have to be careful of what the rest of the world thinks of us, so we pretend to only 'tolerate' gay people, by making it look like we don't approve of gay marriage. The truth of the matter is of course we fight for, and encourage the rights of homosexuals, everywhere wherever possible, especially on the beaches, on the streets and between the sheets. We will never surrender, (except for our virginity.)
    Gay people are doing their best to have babies, so far without much luck.
    Fortunately there are sufficient heterosexual people remaining in Australia who are having babies, a percentage of whom will become gay if they aren't already.
    The Australian Governments have secretly assisted the GLBT community to deliver assistance to heterosexual parents who are bewildered by their lack of gay offspring, in helping them to understand that love between people of the opposite sex is as acceptable as love between same sex partners.
    Proper nutrition is very important for the newly born baby and it has been suggested that Heinz baby food is an excellent source of the gay gene.

  18. DesDownunder
    Cole Parker's latest story, Dominos, caused Altimexis to go into hysterics, and me to travel back to a memory of a defining moment.
    Rather than clutter up the Forum, I have posted that memory here in my blog.
    I was 14 and the film 'Blue Denim' had just been released. Now I should explain I loved movies. Every Saturday afternoon I was permitted to go to the local cinema to see the 'Kid's Matinee' as they called it back in 1959. We had no TV in those days.
    In a fit of pubescent inquisitiveness and teenage rebellion, I had bought a pair of blue denim jeans during my school lunch hour. My parents did not know. They would never have allowed me to own such a terrible item of clothing.
    Came the following Saturday and I kissed my mum goodbye and headed off to what she thought was the 'Kid's Matinee'. Instead I caught the bus to the city and managed to buy a ticket to see the 'Adults Only' movie, 'Blue Denim.' It starred the then teenage actors Carol Lynley and Brandon De Wilde.
    The movie's plot was basically that parents' dislike of blue denim jeans was justified because Brandon wears them, and he gets Carol pregnant; much to the snickers of the cinema audience. When Brandon finds out that Carol is with child, there is much guilt on screen as the pair admit their parents' trusted them.
    For some reason that escaped me at the tender age of 14, when the audience heard that line, they burst out into near, apoplectic laughter.
    I was horrified at the insensitivity of my fellow cinema patrons. Didn't they understand how much trouble the characters were in?
    Did they think it was appropriate to laugh at someone else's misfortune? I spent the rest of the movie wondering why my fellow patrons found the situation of these two teenagers so funny.
    I was very, very, disappointed with humanity.
    As the movie continued towards its conclusion, I became aware that my own teenager perspective was naive, even immature. It dawned on me that the reason the movie was 'Adults Only' was because older people would indeed find these kid's concerns with what their parents thought of them and their sexual experience as being humorous.
    I wasn't altogether happy with them, but I at least came to see why the adults were laughing.
    I was also deeply aware that I would have liked to have offered Brandon De Wilde the opportunity of trying to get me pregnant.
    By the movies end, I had realised that the adults in the audience had a perspective of life that I was just beginning to understand.
    So it was that I read the first chapter of Cole's new story with that same kind of acceptance, of Bradley's innocence, as I had for the characters in that movie of long ago. I empathised with his predicament rather than finding it funny, even though I could see as I read it how it might be viewed as humorous. And this early experience came flooding back into my mind.
    Now I have no idea if Cole wanted us to be amused, bemused or sympathetic. My guess is he wanted all three as well as whetting our appetite for more. Altimexis' amusement and my reminiscences are legitimate responses in my opinion, and both show the extraordinary power of Cole's sublime writing.

  19. DesDownunder
    So here am I, aging by the second and running around trying to find some semblance of reason to the bizarre conditions of warranties.
    My new all singing, all dancing, all annoying mobile phone has stopped working after 6 months. The screen is plain white and the battery won't accept a recharge. I rang the Telephone company, -on the land line phone, as the mobile was busted. Did you really think I rang on the mobile which is broken? Of course you didn't. A voice answered,
    "In a few words," she says," Please tell me the purpose of your call."
    "WTF is this? oh, okay, I get it...My phone is busted."
    "I'm sorry," apologizes the voice, "I didn't understand you. In a few words please state the nature of your call."
    "My mobile phone isn't working."
    "Your phone isn't working. Does that sound right to you?"
    "yes!" I want to add an expletive or two but refrain.
    "Please tell me the nature of your problem."
    "The friggin phone ain't able to take a friggin charge."
    "Your account has been over-charged? Is that correct."
    "No!"
    Silence.
    "Please press the hash key."
    I press every key several times.
    "Okay, I am not able to ascertain your query, please hold while I connect to a service consultant."
    Musical interlude.
    "Your call is important to us and has been placed in a queue." announces a recorded voice. "We are experiencing an unusually large number of calls at the moment. You may wait in the queue or press 2 and leave your phone number and we will phone you back tomorrow."
    "Yeah right. Do I look stupid? I'll wait."
    Musical interlude, interrupted by a commercial trying to sell me a new phone. I ignore the offer to go to 'sales' by pressing 3.
    "Hello my name is Sam, how may I make you day perfect?"
    I burst out laughing.
    "Hello, hello...Can I help you?"
    "Yes you can. Firstly tell the boss to get a new script writer, secondly shoot the auto-voice system, it doesn't work."
    "Yes, we have a lot of trouble with that," says Sam.
    "And thirdly," I tell him, "I want my mobile phone repaired. It is under warranty."
    Certainly Sir, when was the phone purchased, what is the telephone number, which country are you in, and what seems to be wrong with the unit?"
    "The unit? Oh, you mean the phone."
    I supply the details he requires as quickly as I can, the sun is setting.
    After several minutes of music and commercials, Sam (he sounds really cute) returns and tells me that I have a a valid claim and he will escalate my case to the senior technician who will send me details on how to get my phone repaired. In the meantime if I want to use the phone service I should buy a cheap phone and put the SIM card into it. I thank Sam and before I can invite him home for a midnight tryst, he bids me farewell and hangs-up.
    The next day I buy the suggested cheap ? $60 phone, transfer the SIM card and voila, I am connected again to the mobile phone world.
    Four days later, the Senior Technician sends me a return for service form, which I must sign. In it, is a clause that says I agree to being charged a minimum of $100 if they fix the phone because it is not broken under warranty. No. I check with a lawyer friend. Don't sign it he advises.
    "I have no intention of signing it," I tell him.
    "Wait until Monday and take it direct to the manufacturer's service department." So I will do that.
    In the meantime, the laser printer is reporting a paper jam, but there is no paper jammed in it. It's under warranty. I check their website which is like trying to find your way around a brothel in the dark. You can tell someone is being badly screwed, you're just hoping it isn't you.
    Finally I find a local phone number to call.
    "If your enquiry is to do with a scanner please press 2,
    If your enquiry is to do with a printer please press 3,
    If your enquiry is to do with something else we make, please press another number..."
    And so on...Finally a girl informs me she will email me with the time for the printer to be serviced...
    The printer serviceman is coming Monday. They will charge me $104.50 per hour from the time he leaves their premises until the time he returns if he finds the paper jam is due to a paper jam, as that is not covered under the warranty.
    Where is the Consumer Affairs phone number. Ah there it is.
    "Hello, you have rung consumer affairs. If your enquiry is about..."
    I hang up.

  20. DesDownunder
    The following is inspired by Camy and the replies in his blog entry "Rowing not rowing."
    Quote Kapitano (from Camy's blog):
    I think the expectation of discord in a relationship is one of the major causes of those tensions.
    Having an idea of what concerns you about the habits of a someone you like, should most likely be weighed against your own needs to control the other person.
    If at least one of the two people in a relationship hasn't got over the TV sitcom idea of controlling the other person then arguments are bound to occur.
    The idea of creating a perfect partner after having failed to find Mr (or Ms) Right, is never really going to lead to a harmonious relationship.
    Helping someone to be who they want to be, even allowing them to just be themselves, is a tricky business.
    Making the someone into whom you want them to be is fraught with impending action of disaster.
    So how can we avoid arguments, resentment, disappointments, plots to kill each other etc. in our relationships?
    The answers are as numerous as there are couples trying to find the 'Happy Ever After.'
    Too many of us worry about stupid things like squeezing the toothpaste from the middle or the end of the tube . Whilst in confrontation mode, neither party is going to find the obvious solution of each person having their own tube of toothpaste. This principle can go a long way to solving the minor stupid annoyances of no real consequence.
    Finally however there comes a time to realise that you don't care about the other guy's imperfections; indeed you may find they are what makes him special to you.
    The Hippie Guide to Love says, you should set up rows of suitors to have as wide a range of lovers as is possible.
    It also says,
    If you find someone to love, set them free, if they come back to you, they love you too.
    What this means is, that if you love someone, you seek to liberate them; set them free from what ever confines them, and never attempt to imprison them in your own ideal world. Indeed such a prison has two inmates; both of you. If either of you attempt to be the prison guard as well, resentment will follow. Both must escape this prison and decide to be together, each of their own free will.
    When both partners know that they are free to be themselves, arguments tend to be discussions on what is best for either or both of them, rather than just being selfish assertion of a rule or concept of what is 'right.' This is not a compromise however. It is a somewhat, simple, (sometimes difficult) sacrifice made, for the one you love.
    But before you can love another, you must learn to love yourself. Self-loathing is not really a satisfactory basis for loving another person.
    Once you have come to love yourself, you are then able to sacrifice your self-love, by offering love to another.
    It is here that the core of argument ferments, if for any one moment, the offering or substantiation of love is perceived as rejected or ignored.
    It is necessary to trust that love exists at these moments, that love has matured beyond selfish ambition, that owning each other is not a worthy relationship. That the arguments, the ambitions, the expectations even, are sacrificed because loving each other freely is our unconditional vow.
    Then we may become aware we are wondrously, humans, being in love.
    Sometimes we may express our affection by telling the object of our love to "Go Fuck yourself!"

  21. DesDownunder
    Are ratings overrated?
    Do they mean anything.
    I sit here looking at the little blog rating stars and wonder why our resident blog geniuses (genii for those of you who think Latin is your native tongue) only rate somewhere between 3.9 and 4.8. (Come to think of it, a native Latin is something we might like to get our tongues around.)
    I mean why do some people get more votes than others?
    And why does the lowest rating have more voters than the highest?
    Was this an act of retaliation against being highly rated, or simply a popular vote to rate someone who deserved some rating while others are overlooked altogether.
    Surely someone deserves 5 out of 5.
    Why do some blogs have no votes?
    You'd think that if people were going to vote for one blog they would at least vote for them all.
    Where is the equity in that?
    I can't help but wonder what the criteria is for rating someone's blog.
    I'm pretty certain it has nothing to do with sexual prowess.
    (Now that is a word I wondered about as a kid. I thought a prowess was a female prowler.)
    No one has been around to my house to judge my prowess, that I know about anyway. Perhaps I have been prowled without knowing it.
    Now there is a scary thought. Look out your window and see if you can catch site of the dozens of strange looking men lurking in the bushes trying to rate your prowess so they choose how many stars they give your blog. Do they talk to each other? Do they hold town meetings to discuss your blog ratings? Is there an international conspiracy of blog raters?
    It is always possible of course that people just accidentally hit the wrong number of stars when they rated a blog. It's easy to do. Fortunately all you have to do is rate the blog again with the correct number of 5 stars. The system allows you to change your rating, especially if it was too low last time you rated. (Hint hint.)
    I am perplexed about how readers decide on the number of stars they think a blog should get. Is it comparative? What if the last blog rated is better than the blog you rated at 5 earlier? Do you go around and demote your previous ratings? That isn't nice.
    Then of course I think a blog rating can be in recognition of an outstanding revelation of insight into human thought.
    Deep and meaningful clich?s on the state of our individual thoughts can only make the readers' minds bloggle.
    We blog, therefore we live. Avoid the rush rate our blogs now!
    Subliminal message => 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5,
    Even better, start your own blog.
  22. DesDownunder

    80. Today-ing

    By DesDownunder,

    I hate being interrupted when I am doing something useful.
    There I was on a research project of some importance. I was counting the number of errors made on all the web pages on the Internet, when the phone rang. It was of course from a marketing firm who used a person whose native tongue was not English (or American). I of course had been counting the aforementioned web page errors without writing them down. So when the phone rang I completely lost track of how many errors I had counted. All that work gone forever.
    The person on the other end of the phone said something like, "Allo, out are you doing today?"
    Where did they learn to say that, The Yoda Academy of Jedi English?
    I replied of course that I was in.
    "Allo, out are you doing today?" the voice asked again. I wondered if the caller's gender had been deferred at birth, perhaps till sometime after puberty made it possible to make a determination.
    "Allo, out are you doing, today?"
    It suddenly occurred to me that this might be some stalker who despite being English-challenged was trying to confirm whether or not I had come out.
    "Do you mean to ask if I am out of the closet?" I inquired.
    "You are in cloths today?"
    "Well I usually am in cloths.
    "In cloths? Today?"
    What is it, with this preoccupation with...today?
    Why do people add 'today' on to the end of their sentences. You know, like the checkout operator at the supermarket tells you the total cost and then next thing she asks is, "Will that be cash or credit card, today?" See what I mean? I feel like asking her if I can pay tomorrow. When did she think I was going to pay, next week?
    "Allo, out are you today?" asked Yoda's top student.
    "I have been outing myself for many years. Are you out?" I ask ever so sweetly between gritted teeth.
    "Alloing Sir, I am suping visor, in charge of staffing, is problem being here, today?"
    Souping Visor? Stuffing? Is he feeding Darth Vader?
    "No problem, being here, I can't answer about being there though, -today."
    They've got me saying it.
    "I can being assuring you everything is fine here, today."
    "Why did you telephone me?" Stopped myself from adding 'today.'
    "Oh Sir we are just doing surveying to find out how you are doing today."
    "You're not trying to sell me something?"
    "Oh no, we just want to be nice and..."
    It was at that moment that the line went dead. I heard an awful noise and when I looked outside I saw several pigs had entangled themselves in the telephone cables as they flew past my house, today.

  23. DesDownunder
    Have you ever noticed your own aging process?
    I saw myself losing hair on my head 24 years ago. I was alerted to this by the number of twinks that ran away from me, rather than towards me. I was almost arrested for causing stampedes in the shopping mall.
    It was the first sign that I might not be immortal.
    The second sign was the lines around my eyes.
    The third sign was when the lines sagged and became wrinkles.
    The fourth sign was when I developed hypochondria about the first three signs being imminent indicators of my need to smash mirrors in order to feel good about myself.
    The fifth sign was when people looked at me and lied. "You haven't changed at all," said friends I hadn't seen for 25 years as they held up their fingers to make the sign of the cross, in my direction.
    The sixth sign was when young children pointed at me and said, "Ooh, look Mummy, it's the evil emperor from Stars Wars." It didn't help when the mother said, "No dear, that is Darth Vader without his helmet. I should stop wearing black.
    The seventh sign I am told, is when you forget what the first six signs are. I don't believe it.
    The seventh sign I have just discovered is when your armpits go bald.
    Don't laugh!
    The hair in my armpits is thinning, almost threadbare.
    I wonder if I can get some of my pubes transplanted to my armpits, I have plenty of those, so far.
    I'll ask the doctor. He'll know.
  24. DesDownunder
    What a time of it I have had. The faulty phone line finally stopped working altogether. I couldn't stand to be without my web-fix, so I used up more of the bank's money and have a temporary connection via the cell phone acting as a modem. $60 for 1 Gig for 1 month. Yikes. Oh and the speed is a blistering 460kps.
    And of course when I signed up for this "bargain" the girl didn't tell me I would need to insert an access code. Oh no I had to ring for help. A robot female voice asked me to tell her "in as few words as possible please say the reason for your call."
    She couldn't understand a thing I said.
    So for 3 hours I was switched from one department to another, often to be told by a recorded voice that the number they had switched me to, was no longer a valid number and I should check to see that I dialled it correctly. Obviously they have attended the Microsoft school of customer liaison.
    After being connected to several people in Melbourne, Hobart (in Tasmania) Sydney and a strange man with an Indian accent who couldn't understand me any more than the female answering robot, I finally spoke to a technician (in Adelaide of all places) who told me the access code and to reboot the cell phone by restoring the factory settings. Who knew? Certainly not the girl who took my money.
    When I finally got it all working, guess what, the partial connection on my faulty home line decided it was no use going to the trouble of not letting me connect to the web and decided to work perfectly for the next 4 hours.
    No officer, I have not scalped any one, that is my hair on the floor. I ripped it out by the #&@*$#ing roots whilst talking to my #&@*$#ed phone company.
    What's that you say? You will arrest them for causing me to curse. How nice of you. Such a cute young police officer, won't you stay and cruise the net with me? I'll make you a lovely breakfast?
    Yeah if only.
  25. DesDownunder

    83. Test the Blog

    By DesDownunder,

    The blogs are not looking as they should, so I am testing out posting a new entry in my blog just to see what it looks like.
    If you have been plagued by spam in your blog, I have adjusted the guest permissions which should stop that from happening.
    Please let me know about any spam in your blog and I will delete it.

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