Thursday, September 30, 2021




The King’s English


I take it you already know
Of tough and bough and cough and dough?

Others may stumble, but not you,
On hiccough, thorough, slough and through.

Beware of heard, a dreadful word,
That looks like beard but sounds like bird.

And dead: It’s said like bed, not bead --
For goodness’ sake, don’t call it deed!

Watch out for meat and great and threat…
They rhyme with suite and straight and debt.

A moth is not the moth in mother,
Nor both in bother, nor broth in brother.

And here is not a match for there,
Nor dear and fear for bear and pear,

And then there’s dose and rose and lose --
Just look them up -- and goose and choose.

And cork and work and card and ward,
And font and front and word and sword.

And do and go, then thwart and cart,
Come, come, I’ve hardly made a start!

A dreadful language? Why, sakes alive!
I’d learned to speak it when I was five.

And yet, to write it, the more I tried,
I hadn’t learned it at fifty-five.

Wednesday, September 29, 2021




Jeremy Bertrand is a Canadian artist, blogger and urban explorer. He is also a street artist who goes by the name Jerm IX and is known for stickers and stencil paintings featuring quotations and sayings, as well as his own thoughts and poetry.

A victim of childhood sexual abuse, he lived on the streets as a teenager, regularly getting into trouble with the law. That changed after he got out of jail, where he spent two years between the ages of 16 and 18. He met his partner and started a path to recovery that continues two decades later.

His street art adheres to a code. No street art on private residences, open mom-and-pop businesses, schools, churches or vehicles. His canvas is mostly limited to public utility boxes and abandoned buildings - like the crumbling structures he lives to explore.

Bertrand admits he lives an unusual lifestyle as a pot-smoking, trespassing street artist - three things he does daily. But he wants to be known as a son, husband, brother and friend, not a vandal. "I'm a real person," he said. "Not just a stencil on a wall."

Tuesday, September 28, 2021




There is a website named Urban Hell - The Downsides of Modern Development and it can be accessed by clicking on the following link:

The website describes itself as:
A photography subreddit of all the hideous places human beings built or inhabit. Come here for aesthetic appreciation of the darker side of the cities, towns, and villages in our shared world. We welcome any photos which show either ugliness, or a problem in urban development. Rural and suburban hell are also allowed.
Bored Panda has also posted some of the pics from that site, at:

It headed the post:
People On This Group Are Sharing Examples Of ‘Urban Hell’ That Look Like A Dystopian Movie But Are Sadly Real
The following pics, captions and reader comments (some of which raise serious discussion points and profound observations) are from the Bored Panda posting.

A Boy Gathers Recyclable Items From A Semi-Dry Drain, At Taimoor Nagar In New Delhi

Reader comments:

Oh my god.

Don’t blame god for this one

THIS! THIS! I'm so sick of people calling anything they dislike "urban hell" (see previous articles on Bored Panda). THIS is Hell. And capitalists, socialists, kleptocrats, everyone has fault in this. I do, you do, and everyone who doesn't use their brainpower thinking up better ways of doing things. And no, I don't mean ridding the world of trash. (Your plastic straws aren't causing that, and if you absolve yourself because you use paper straws, that's just plain wrong.) I mean ridding the world of poverty.

Well said. City problems and poor problems are mere symptoms. It will catch up even to the well-sheltered eventually in a variety of ways if few take ownership

Hopelessness in a picture.

I’m almost 50, I remember seeing this scene when I was a child, it’s a shame there’s really no progress

There actually is, a few years back, china was the first country to give the West the middle finger and ban the import of our "recyclables". Since then, both EU and US have been struggling to get rid of their waste. At last, we will finally have to deal with our own pollution instead of pointing the finger to those countries.

Poor kid having to do this to survive.

We are destroying the planet. We are cutting the branch on which we're sitting - and it's a LOOOOOOOOONG way down--

People are railing about the US dumping our "recyclables" on other countries, but in all fairness, that mess looks like it contains a lot of local trash as well. The boy is basically sifting through the local landfill looking for recyclables.

It looks to me that they do nothing as far as waste management goes except open the window and throw their sh#@ out. Shaking my head...sigh.

Nasty country. There is no reason to live in filth.

India has a huge waste problem. But if you see how Indians behave abroad…we have Indian residential areas in UAE and believe me even playgrounds for kids there are covered with litter. Sad, but true. Not all Indians are like that of course.

Oh yes, eating a slightly more expensive salad is DEFINITELY going to save the earth. This planet is f*****g doomed...

The age of plastic for humanity

Ah Yes, Trees

They look like something...else, at first

Oh let’s just say it: búttplugs

Lego trees are more realistic than that. If fact full size Lego tress would be cool!

f*****g stupid is what they are

Is this what I’ve been saving all my plastic bags for?

I thought they were air filters or something practical. They just look awful

Real trees are air filters


Nuclear warheads hiding in plain sight. Ingenious!

Even a dog wouldn't take a pi** on that

Ah, the sound of the wind whistling through the plastic leaves...

It is the desert. If actual trees were there they would waste a ton of water on them. But I have no clue why they thought this would look good. Better without it.

Locally, they put plastic evergreen "limbs" on cell phone towers to try to disguise them. It doesn't work.


All jokes aside - why plant actual trees, when we can have this hideous abomination. Possibly made from plastic.

Trees 2.0! Now without the hassle of leaves, limbs, or anything else tree related!!

Looks like the worst Dr. Seuss book ever

What is the point? Are they supposed to do something or have a purpose?

San Francisco, USA

How a country with the self-understanding of being the world's leader would let this happen is beyond comprehension.

I'm pretty sure we aren't the world's leader anymore. If we are, we shouldn't be.

Unrestrained capitalism, untaxed rich, paramilitarized cops, Republican obstruction, bourgeois entitlement, lack of popular interest in the welfare if others, corporate greed, mass incarceration, unaffordable healthcare, zero mental health and drug treatment resources, gun fetishes, grotesque military spending, systemic racism, bias against women and LGBTQ+... How? That's how.

Lmao I like how you found a way to blame Republicans but completely ignored that SF is a democratic ran city.

This is not just in San Francisco, it’s in every single major metropolitan city in America and is the direct result of greed

I’m a liberal, but an old school one not the ones that want to rename school named after Abraham Lincoln. And I want to say this is a complete result of liberal policies and NIMBY’s. They act like it is some sort of charity to let homeless people sleep wherever they want, yet don’t help them in any way after. San Francisco is one of the most expensive places to live on earth. And many virtue signal by protesting the 1%, but then oppose affordable housing in their neighborhoods.The state does selective decriminalization of not arresting homeless people sleeping on the street, but do nothing to help them not sleep on the street in the first place. There is a Washington Post article with the headline “ California gave people the ‘right’ to be homeless — but little help finding homes”. On this site there have been pictures of lovely lined rows of clean new tents for these people to live in without showing that just blocks away is Skid Row.

Rents are ridiculous here, even if you have a job you can end up homeless, like a professor in the Bay Area who is living in her car....its going to get worse next month when the eviction moratorium ends. Even those who have been paying their rent are in jeopardy as the landlords keep raising the rent every year

To be fair this is NOT a good representation of San Francisco. You can find garbage dumps like this one in every city in the world.

Both republicans and democrats have no clue how to handle this homelessness crisis. It’s outta control.

Unreal! Looks like some of these third world countries.

I was very surprised by the amount of homelessness I saw in San Francisco

The American dream is dead.

As George Carlin put it that's why it's called the American Dream because you'd have to be asleep to believe it.

Magnitogorsk, One Of The Worst Polluted Cities In Russia. Only 28% Of The Children Born In The Town Are Fully Healthy

This isn't even urban...just hell.

This is what the US would look like if Trump had his way as king.

Its gonna look like this either way. You already had a line of morons before the Orange Man and now you have Creepy Sleepy Uncle Joe. Its’ not getting better for you lot.

WE, the public, are the ones being blamed for the failing earth when countries are doing nothing about the companies making millions out of it.

Terrible. Even climate change deniers must realize you are not supposed to breathe shit in the air. Ahem also looking at you India

Try China

Why do people have kids there?

Is that statue suppose to be sign of victory? Over what? Human's health and life?

Wikipedia says 1%

Aside from everything else wrong with this photo.... That's a terrible way to hold a sword.

A local hospital also only says 1% of the children are healthy.

Is that statue black from the air pollution?

It is not black but brown. Still, you are probably right

The two guys in the front are running for their lives after stealing the Sword of Fresh Air. Ever since they left, the town has never been the same.

Inequality In Tembisa, South Africa

Powerful photo

They are divided by the cemetery, that makes the photo even more powerful.

There are hardly any whites left in SA. Reverse racism and all. There are MANY rich black people who dont give a s**t about the poor blacks. Not to mention the corrupt black politicians who keep brainwashing the people that it is the white man's fault just so they can continue with their corrupt agenda. Getting old now. SA has gone down the drain, unfortunately.

There's inequality everywhere, even if it's not so apparent.

I find the comments that seem to equate the "downfall" of South Africa with a "lack of whites" to be quite telling. Also, I should tell my whites friends, colleagues and neighbours that they seem to be quite lost as apparently there are no whites left in South Africa.

Reminds me of District 9.

District 9 was astonishingly accurate in its metaphorical comparison to how SA used to be in the apartheid era. The various Districts were actually a thing. As for Thembisa, I remember driving to work in SA in the 1990s and seeing affluent areas with mansions on one side of the motorway, and shantytown shacks on the other side. Terrible disparity between rich and poor.

Equality and opportunity are two different things.

I'm surprised they're so close together. But in all seriousness, I can't believe that there are people out there who think this is a problem. Some people are well educated and have better jobs so can afford more. That's life, always has been, always will be. If you can say with a straight face that a doctor should be remunerated in the same way as a dock worker, you're firstly a communist, secondly laughable, and thirdly off your rocker.

This is everywhere. It's the same here in Cocoa FL. Really nice, large houses near the river, and 'general development' homes across the railroad tracks.

Similar situations if you look at the populated cities right on country borders (example in California/Mexico border at Mexicali I think)

this is called life. equality doesn't exist nor will it ever.

Not with that attitude, it won’t.

Looks to me like everybody has a place to live. What's the problem? Someone has more land than someone else? Then let's burn down the bigger houses so we can all "be equal".

That may be the case for some but I can promise you many people on the left are willing to work (and do) and some probably even more so than some of the people on the right. There's way more to it than "willing to work and not".

Norilsk, Russia

No happiness

Why is that written in English, in Russia.

Norilsk was built by Gulag prisoners. Lead mines. The rain there is basically acid. Horrible that anyone still has to live there, such a hopeless place

Нет счастья, if this was actually in Russia. Graffiti wouldn't be in English.

Lots of graffiti all over the world is in English..?

This reminds me of the time i lived and worked in the town of Kirkenes in northeren Norway its right by the Russian border and we used to go shopping in the nearest Russian town of Nikel to buy cheap vodka and gasoline about 50 km from Kirkenes . The poverty and the state of the building and houses was shocking and looked exactly like the picture above

More to come . . . 

Monday, September 27, 2021





By the same token:


For the same reason, in the same vein


The word “token” has an old meaning of something being symbolic, or a sign, of something else. Even a marked piece of lead could be a token that was exchanged for money. From there it came to mean a fact or piece of evidence that could be used as proof. Hence in the original meaning, by the same token meant that what was used to prove one thing could also be used to prove another. It was usually used to indicate two seemingly opposing things that arioe from the same circumstance. As the use of it developed, the expression was weakened from evidence to the things being somehow associated.

Get on a soapbox:


To get on a raised platform to stand to make an impromptu speech, often about a political subject. From there it has expanded to anyone addressing lsiteners to argue a point or make a speech.


In the late 1800s soap and other dry goods were transported in wooden crates from manufacturers to retail stores. Would-be motivators of crowds would use the crates to stand on as makeshift podiums to make speeches, or sales pitches. The soap box then became a metaphor for spontaneous speech making or getting on a roll about a favourite topic.

The modern equivalent would be the ubiquitous plastic milk crate:



Foolishness that goes beyond mere foolery.


Early in the 1300s the Latin term Thomas fatuus started appearing, the word Thomas being generic for any person and the word fatuus meaning stupid or foolish in Latin. That has given us the words fatuous and infatuate. By 1356 Thomas fatuus had become Tom Fool.

Around the seventeenth century, the character of Tom Fool shifted from a stupid or half-witted person to that of a fool or buffoon. He became a character who accompanied morris-dancers or formed part of the cast of various British plays.

A tom-fool was more foolish than an ordinary, garden variety of fool. Tomfoolery was similarly worse than foolery, the state of acting foolishly, which had been in English since the sixteenth century.

Go bananas:


To go crazy.


The expression “go bananas” is slang, and the origin is a bit harder to pin down. It became popular in the 1950s, around the same time as “go ape,” so there may have been some association between apes, bananas, and crazy behavior. Also, banana is just a funny-sounding word. In the 1920s people said “banana oil!” to mean “nonsense!”

Run of the Mill:


Something average, ordinary, nothing special.


It most likely originally referred to a run from a textile mill. It’s the product that has just been manufactured, before it’s been decorated or embellished. There were related phrases like “run of the mine,” for chunks of coal that hadn’t been sorted by size yet, and “run of the kiln,” for bricks as they came out without being sorted for quality yet.

Hands down:


To win convincingly.


The origin of the idiom “hands down” is found in horse racing history and dates back to the middle of the 19th century. When a horse was so far ahead of the rest that a win was assured, the jockey would loosen his grip on the reins and drop his hands as he and his horse approached the finish line.

Sunday, September 26, 2021





Australia has two unofficial poet laureates: Banjo Paterson and Henry Lawson.

Paterson (1864 – 1941) was an Australian bush poet, journalist and author who is known for works such as "Clancy of the Overflow" , "The Man from Snowy River" (1890) and "Waltzing Matilda" (1895), regarded widely as Australia's unofficial national anthem. His poems are frequently jolly, positive and amusing.

Lawson (1867 – 1922) was also an Australian writer and bush poet but struggled much more with life than Paterson. He wrote prolifically into the 1890s, after which his output declined, in part due to struggles with alcoholism and mental illness. At times destitute, he spent periods in Darlinghurst Gaol and psychiatric institutions and died in 1922 following a cerebral haemorrhage. His works are often bleak and dark, with hostility towards oppression of the poor and dispossessed.

The following is an example. . . 

Sez You

- Henry Lawson

When the heavy sand is yielding backward from your blistered feet,
And across the distant timber you can SEE the flowing heat;
When your head is hot and aching, and the shadeless plain is wide,
And it’s fifteen miles to water in the scrub the other side
Don’t give up, don’t be down-hearted, to a man’s strong heart be true!
Take the air in through your nostrils, set your lips and see it through
For it can’t go on for ever, and `I’ll have my day!’ says you.

When you’re camping in the mulga, and the rain is falling slow,
While you nurse your rheumatism ‘neath a patch of calico;
Short of tucker or tobacco, short of sugar or of tea,
And the scrubs are dark and dismal, and the plains are like a sea;
Don’t give up and be down-hearted to the soul of man be true!
Grin! if you’ve a mate to grin for, grin and jest and don’t look blue;
For it can’t go on for ever, and `I’ll rise some day,’ says you.

When you’ve tramped the Sydney pavements till you’ve counted all the flags,
And your flapping boot-soles trip you, and your clothes are mostly rags,
When you’re called a city loafer, shunned, abused, moved on, despised
Fifty hungry beggars after every job that’s advertised
Don’t be beaten! Hold your head up! To your wretched self be true;
Set your pride to fight your hunger! Be a MAN in all you do!
For it cannot last for ever `I will rise again!’ says you.

When you’re dossing out in winter, in the darkness and the rain,
Crouching, cramped, and cold and hungry ‘neath a seat in The Domain,
And a cloaked policeman stirs you with that mighty foot of his
`Phwat d’ye mane? Phwat’s this?
Who are ye? Come, move on git out av this!’
Don’t get mad; ’twere only foolish; there is nought that you can do,
Save to mark his beat and time him find another hole or two;
But it can’t go on for ever `I’ll have money yet!’ says you.

Bother not about the morrow, for sufficient to the day
Is the evil (rather more so). Put your trust in God and pray!
Study well the ant, thou sluggard. Blessed are the meek and low.
Ponder calmly on the lilies how they idle, how they grow.
A man’s a man! Obey your masters! Do not blame the proud and fat,
For the poor are always with them, and they cannot alter that.
Lay your treasures up in Heaven cling to life and see it through!
For it cannot last for ever `I shall die some day,’ says you.

Saturday, September 25, 2021



Explaining why he had turned down an invitation to a vegetarian gala dinner.



A friend, TZ, sent me the text of an interview with Don McLean from The Australian newspaper a few days ago.

Because I am not a subscriber to The Australian I can’t access that interview so I am posting it in the format sent to me.

I have never been a great fan of Don McLean, American Pie has always seemed to me to me a little deliberately and glibly inscrutable.

Still, the article is of interest and worth a reprint.

I will not dissect the lyrics as to what the lyrics mean. McLeran, on being asked that question, has said "It means I never have to work again."
His eight-minute-long "rock and roll American dream" became an anthem for an entire generation - who memorised every line. Their children in turn grew up singing it - fascinated by the mysterious lyrics with their cryptic references to 50s innocence, the turbulent 60s, and 70s disillusion.

- BBC News, April 7, 2015 at

The article:

Don McLean's American Pie still a magical mystery after 50 years

Ever since its release in 1971, American Pie has been analysed, debated, raked over, pulled apart. Artists ranging from Madonna to Tyson Fury have covered Don McLean’s eight-and-a-half-minute odyssey. There are entire academic treatises on who the king, the queen, the joker and the rest of its characters are based on. The Recording Industry of America lists American Pie as the fifth best song of the 20th century. At 75, McLean is celebrating the song’s 50th anniversary. What, though, does it all mean?

“The day the music died” almost definitely refers to the 1959 plane crash that killed the pioneering rock’n’rollers Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper. Beyond that McLean has confirmed only that the song means he’ll never have to work again. Having always taken it as a story on the death of innocence, I am interested to know how its creator feels about American Pie’s relevance to the post-Trump US. His answer turns out to be a lot more than I bargained for.

“America hasn’t won a war since Korea in the 1950s,” McLean begins. He’s at his surprisingly modest house in Palm Springs, deep in the California desert. “We keep sending young men off to Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan to get blown to bits, we don’t care about the inhabitants, and for what? I don’t know what’s going on in America. All I know is that the left and the right are radicalised, 71 million people voted for Trump, and now we have President Biden who unfortunately seems to be quite frail. Jeez.”

American Pie reflected McLean’s troubled childhood and adolescence in the middle-class town of New Rochelle in New York, a childhood shaped by the death of his father when McLean was 15. It also reflected America’s journey through the 1960s, referencing not only the hippy dream of Woodstock, but Charles Manson, the murderous violence at the Rolling Stones 1969 concert at ­Altamont, and Vietnam. At least we think it does.

“Can you imagine having your foot blown off in a war? Can you?” McLean continues as some kind of answer to my further probings on American Pie’s allegories. “In 1960, when he left office, president Eisenhower warned the nation about the military industrial complex. We’ve had so many warnings since and nobody listened. American Pie is celebrating its 50th year. That’s the reason we’re talking. We could have solved these problems in that time. But I don’t have any answers. I have only observations.”

As to McLean’s relationship with American Pie, he says it is the same as it ever was. “I love to entertain people. I want to help people. I want to give something of myself to the world. I’m not really interested in Don McLean, actually, but if Don McLean can do some good … I’m happy to do it.”

Friday, September 24, 2021





A friend emailed me a joke during the week, a classic oldie but a newie if you haven’t seen it before:
I went into the confessional box after many years of being away from the Catholic Church.

Inside I found a fully equipped bar with Guinness on tap. On one wall, there was a row of decanters with fine Irish whiskey and Waterford crystal glasses.

On the other wall was a dazzling array of the finest cigars and chocolates.

When the Priest came in, I said to him, “Father, forgive me, for it's been a very long time since I've been to confession, but I must first admit that the confessional box is much more inviting than it used to be.”

The Priest replied, ”You moron! You're on my side.”
So that also sets the theme for today’s Funny Friday, readers: confessions and the confessional.

Stay safe and stay well.

By the way, risqué content ahead (what would you expect with confessional jokes?)



The new priest is nervous about hearing confessions, so he asks an older priest to sit in on his sessions. The new priest hears a couple confessions, then the old priest asks him to step out of the confessional for a few suggestions.

The old priest suggests, "Cross you arms over your chest, and rub your chin with one hand."

The new priest tries this.

The old priest suggests, "Try saying things like, 'I see, yes, go on, and I understand. How did you feel about that?'"

The new priest says those things.

The old priest says, "Now, don't you think that's a little better than slapping your knee and saying 'No kiddin'?!? What happened next?'"

A new convert to Catholicism decided to go to confession to deal with his transgression. In the confessional, he told the priest that he had sinned.

"What was your sin, my son?" asked the priest.

"I stole some lumber, Father," replied the man.

"How much lumber did you steal?" asked the priest.

"Father, I built my German Shepherd dog a nice new doghouse."

The priest replied, "Well, that's not so bad."

The man continued, "Father, I also built myself a 4-car garage."

"Well, now, that's a little more serious."

"Father, there's more. In addition to the doghouse, the 4-car garage, I also built a 5 bedroom, 4 bath house!"

With a pause, the priest finally spoke. "That is a little more serious. I'm afraid you'll have to make a novena."

"Father, I'm not sure what a 'novena' is, but if you've got the blueprints, I've got the lumber!"

A drunken man staggers into a Catholic Church, sits down in the confession box and says nothing. After a few minutes the priest coughs to attract the man's attention, but still the man says nothing. The priest then knocks on the wall three times in an attempt to get the man to speak.

Finally, the drunk replies, "No use knocking mate, there's no paper in this one either".

A man attends confession and tells the priest that he used profane language while playing golf.

The priest asks him to explain the situation so he can decide on his punishment.

The man says “I sliced my drive badly into the trees”.

The priest says “And that’s when you swore.”

The man: “No, a rabbit picked up my ball and bounded away with it.”

Priest: “And that’s when you swore?”

Man: “No. An eagle swooped down, caught the rabbit and started flying away.”

Priest: “And that’s when you swore?”

Man: “No, Father, because the rabbit dropped the ball, it landed on the green and finished six inches from the hole."


An Irish man went to confession in St. Patrick's Catholic Church. 'Father', he confessed, 'it has been one month since my last confession... I had sex with Fanny Green twice last month.'

The priest told the sinner, 'You are forgiven. Go out and say three Hail Mary's.'

Soon thereafter, another Irish man entered the confessional. 'Father, it has been two months since my last confession. I've had sex with Fanny Green twice a week for the past two months.'

This time, the priest questioned, 'Who is this Fanny Green?'

'A new woman in the neighbourhood,' the sinner replied.

'Very well,' sighed the priest. Go and say ten Hail Mary's.;

At mass the next morning, as the priest prepared to deliver the sermon, a tall, Voluptuous, drop-dead gorgeous redheaded woman entered the sanctuary. The eyes of every man in the church fell upon her as she slowly sashayed up the aisle and sat down right in front of the priest. Her dress was green and very short, and she wore matching, shiny emerald-green shoes.

The priest and the altar boy gasped as the woman in the green dress and matching green shoes sat with her legs spread slightly apart, but just enough to realize she wasn't wearing any underwear.

The priest turned to the altar boy and whispered, 'Is that Fanny Green?'

The bug-eyed altar boy couldn't believe his ears but managed to calmly reply, 'No Father, I think it's just a reflection from her shoes'.


Three young women are at a cocktail party.

The conversation turns to their position in life and it’s clear that they are trying to one-up each other.

The first one says, “My husband is taking me to the French Riviera for two weeks on vacation” and then looks at the others with a superior demeanour.

The second one says, “Well, my husband just bought me a new Mercedes,” and looks about with considerable pride.

Number three says, “Well, to be perfectly honest with you, we don’t have much money and we don’t have any material possessions. However, one thing I can tell you about my husband is that thirteen canaries can stand shoulder to shoulder on his erect penis.”

After this, the first one looks shamefaced and says, “Girls, I’ve got a confession to make. I was just trying to impress you. You know that vacation I was telling you about? Well, it’s not to the French Riviera, it’s to my parents’ house for two weeks.”

The second one says, “Your honesty has shamed me. It’s not a Mercedes, he bought me a Plymouth.”

“Well,” the third one says, “I also have a confession to make, canary number thirteen has to stand on one leg!”



A few days ago I posted an item about how the limerick may have been so named. The theory put forward by Langford Reed was that it came from veterans of the Irish Brigade singing verses with a chorus inviting people to come to Limerick.

Langford Reed was a bit of a limerickist himself, here is another of his:

An indolent vicar of Bray
His roses allowed to decay.
His wife, more alert,
Bought a powerful squirt
And said to her spouse, ‘Let us spray.’

Yes, I agree that is a little tame, so here is another classic oldie of a somewhat more ribald nature, still in keeping with the religious and cleric theme . . .

There was a young lady from Kew
Who said, as the bishop withdrew,
Oh, the Vicar is quicker
And thicker and slicker
And four inches longer than you.

Some variations . . .

There was a young lady from Kew,
Who said, as the Bishop withdrew,
"The vicar is quicker
And thicker and slicker,
And longer and stronger than you."

Said the nun as the bishop withdrew,
"This must be our final adieu,
For the vicar is slicker,
And thicker, and quicker,
And two inches longer than you."

Said the nun as the bishop withdrew,
"Not bad for a bishop, it's true,
but the prick of the vicar
is slicker and thicker
and two inches longer than you."





I asked my wife what she wanted for her birthday. She told me that nothing would make her happier than a diamond necklace.

So I gave her nothing.

Dubai spent billions on a bunch of man-made islands and they are now sinking.

I guess all the money in the world can't help erect-isle dysfunction

Your call is very important to us.

So please enjoy this 40-minute flute solo.

Dated a blind girl once
Her name was ::. :.. .:. ::: :............


Thursday, September 23, 2021



AUSTRALIA 1950 - 1965, PART 3:


Mobile buffet service. Central Railway Station, Sydney. 1954


Mother’s sewing machine. In the days when worn or torn clothing was repaired, not discarded.

We have 2 of these in our home, both in great condition - one that I found on the footpath many years ago, put out for the garbage collection and which I quickly scavenged, and one bought at a junk shop for a pittance.

Apparently the Singer Corporation was established in the US by Isaac Singer in 1851. Best known for its sewing machines, it was renamed Singer Manufacturing Company in 1865, then the Singer Company in 1963. It is based in Tennessee, near Nashville.

Some vintage photographs:


Australian National Airways DC-4, Mascot, NSW. 1954. Looking towards Brighton- Le - Sands.


A hard hat Pearl diver at work in Broome. W.A. 1956. Not a vocation for those with claustrophobia.

From the ABC Local website, 11 April 2013, at

Memories of a hard hat pearl diver

Freddy Corpus started working on luggers in 1943.

Freddy Corpus is Australia's last surviving hard hat diver.

Born in Broome in 1928, he started working on luggers as a salvager when he was in his teens, collecting trochus shells, hunting flat back turtles and crocodiles. Once, Freddy and his crew even found a shipwrecked Dutch flying boat, loaded with currency - Dutch guilders and bales of bank notes!

Against his father's wishes, Freddy became the third generation of his family to start pearl diving. He eventually worked his way from Broome across to Darwin where he worked for the Paspaley family.

Freddy got the bends many times, and watched other divers die in this dangerous industry.  He remembers that once "I dived near Entrance Point in 18 fathom of water and my hose got caught in the propeller. When they pulled me up I was unconscious on deck."

Despite the perils of pearl diving, Freddy treasures his memories of his days in the hard hat.  "I honestly reckon there'd be no artist in the world who could paint what you see underwater. It's the most colourful thing you've ever seen."

Freddy Corpus back in the days of hard hat diving in Broome

From another site:

Aboriginal hard-hat diver Fred Corpus was considered as good as the Japanese divers. In the 1950s, he worked from Broome and Darwin.

Broome, WA, Australia - Memorial To The Hard-hat Divers Of Broome

Some vintage pics . . .