Where’s Dolly?
After enjoying herself immensely in the bustling metropolis of Tooleybuc (population 277 and still growing!) Doll made her way by car, plane and horseless carriage to Wyee (well, Wynot) to visit her family, then she and her sister meandered 500 klm up the Overheating Radiator Highway to Copeton Dam (also in the middle of nowhere NSW, and almost halfway back to Qld actually… ) for a charity concert.
This time she was joined onstage for a song with her young niece who glammed up for the occasion.
Today she is pottering back down the Great Dividing Range, then tomorrow making her way home.
The last time we chatted she said she was thrilled with the tour, the audiences were super appreciative and she wouldn’t say no to sleeping for a few days.
Fortunately, due to a cancellation she’ll be able to do just that next weekend.
Presidentia Dementia
Right now in the good ol’ US of A, the Presidential candidates wanting to duke it out in the federal election later this year have been more or less selected.
In Party A (currently putting his feet up on the White House Desk… if he can remember where it is) is Slow Joe Biden:
And in the red (orange) corner of Party B (the philandering, pussy groping, embezzling, third-rate mobster, crybaby and braggart so beloved by Christian evangelicals) is Donald ‘Witch Hunt’ Trump:
Now, age should be no barrier to getting (and holding onto a job) but, surely there must be some sort of aptitude test to cull the dingbats, numbskulls and psychopaths?
I’m guessing there is, but it seems to be used to winnow out anyone with character, good values, empathy and half a brain.
Because they all seem a bit loopy.
Also, very ‘bomb happy’.
Like the kid who loved inserting fire-crackers into frogs and was never punished for it, now they’ve graduated to lobbing high explosives onto defenseless brown-skinned people for votes.
Something even the brown-skinned Barack Obama took to with such gusto he earned the nickname ‘Obomber’.
And not so long ago, Russia was seen by Republicans as ‘The Evil Empire’.
For example, Ronald Reagan was a sprightly 76 when he said this during a sound check in 1984:
By the way, Billy Connolly had Ronnie Raygun pegged:
That man, he sits at that desk in the White House, and the button is there that can end the world: BOOM!
My father's younger than him and we don't give him the controls for the television!
With the fall of communism, the American war machine needed a new enemy to keep the insane $$ flowing in.
And eventually they settled on the War on Terror, which meant you could change enemies on a whim (particularly in an election year) and continue bombing brown skinned people, schools and hospitals all over the world to your hearts’ content.
Like this inter-leck-tual giant did:
Even Russia got in on the act, which may be why Republicans like big, strong, brave Vlad who is so paranoid he kills anyone looking sideways at him (which might explain why he and Donny are the bestliest of buddies)
So, who’s to blame for the endless conveyor belt of crap Presidential candidates and Presidents?
According to George Carlin, it’s the fault of the American voting public:
Mind you in Australia, we’re not much better as we’re also keen to vote in the odd vegetable:
Or pickled Banana:
Those who throw stones at white houses…
Low Battery
This week I continued doing High Energy Morning Meditations. After puffing and blowing my way through the Wim Hoff breathing exercises, I’d pop on a 10 minute meditation video in order to get within screaming distance of some inner calm before the frantic activities of the weekday morning kicked in.
It must have done something because I initially felt charged up, but batteries around me began to die.
Interesting.
Starting with the batteries in my scales. I leaped on, as is my wont, on Monday morning and the digital display read, ‘Lo’.
I was delighted. Clearly my diet was working!
Nope. The batteries were ‘lo’.
I replaced them and discovered my diet wasn’t working… now I felt ‘lo’.
Then the next day, for the first time ever, my phone failed to charge overnight. I didn’t notice this until much later in the day when it started sending me warnings.
‘Not to fear!’ I thought, ‘I have a cable in my automobile… for just such an occasion!’ I plugged it in and was informed that my phone would be completely charged in 32 hours time.
This was slightly disappointing.
Now, I don’t know if it was because the phone had a chat with my car, but my car key battery decided to drop dead too.
The first I knew there was a problem was when this little notice popped up on the dash.
‘No worries!’ I thought, after a little casual swearing, ‘I’ll consult the Nissan Manual I keep in my glove box… for just such an occasion!’
(Note: I keep lots of stuff in my glove box, but no gloves. I keep them in a bag in my boot along with a bottle of water, tools, towel, spare togs and some emergency muesli bars.)
After consulting various pages of the manual I discovered I might have a flat battery in my key fob.
Some pics showed me how to change it.
Now, in our house we have lots of spare batteries, some of them aren’t flat! But not one of them was the type I needed (you know, the little disc shaped ones kids like to eat then die two hours later in excruciating pain… honestly, I don’t know why we don’t have more of those things lying around?)
So, and this is the annoying bit, I had to borrow another car to get to the shops to buy said battery.
I was handed the keys to the spare car which has been parked up because it has been smoking a lot of late and might catch fire.
True story.
So, armed with my wallet, dead battery and fire extinguisher, I sallied forth to the shops.
As I drove I wondered what would I have done if this battery had died while I was say, in the middle of Bumkick Nowhere, what were my options?
You can’t start the thing with the hidden key in the fob because there is nowhere to put said key. So, you’re pretty much right up a famous creek without a paddle.
I got home, replaced the battery and started the car.
Happy Days! I was mobile again!
Then, while I was researching this whining article I discovered (completely by random chance) a little web page which informed me that if you put the dead fob onto the start button it will start your car!
So, I put the dead battery back into the fob and tried it…
It worked!
Just out of interest, I returned to the Nissan manual and dug around for quite a long time to locate this much needed information and was a tad surprised to find it not amongst all the vital information on how to change a radio station, adjust the mirrors or polish the mudflaps.
Well done Team Nissan. Well done.
Apparently, this is the international symbol for putting your dead fob on the Start button in order to start your car…
How dumb am I? Boy, is my face red.
Well, it will be, because after all this ‘fun’ I felt a bit sapped myself and will soon be topping up my own battery with a couple of stiff rum and cokes.
Meditation might lift my energy levels slightly, but caffeine and the Spirit of Bundy will definitely supercharge my flat battery.
Happy Snaps
Jess’ signs keep ‘falling over’. Fortunately some overweight hippy is going around putting them back up:
Need some brushcutting done? I know some people:
There I was, relaxing in the country, when this appeared over the treetops!
Ok, that’s all for now, until next week!