Catch-up time

You ain't posted nuffink the last few days Zizz.
This is very true Clive. Actually I have been extremely busy. New lodgers moving in, Couch Surfers coming and going, the preparations for the curryfest next week, and, my brother arriving today on a four-day visit.
Wot's all this Ruby malarkey then?
I have a C.S. chap in Italy coming to stay for a few days who wants to cook an Indian banquet for me and friends.
Gor, am I invi'ed?
Only if you behave yourself. I remember the last barbecue. Two glasses of Strongbow and you were making a real pest of yourself.
I fink sumwun slipped me a Micky.
Hardly likely. You are simply incapable of remaining unaffected by alcohol. You have a low tolerance level. It will be dandelion and burdock for you in future. I do not want a repeat performance of of your lewd antics. You had one of the girls in tears.
I 'ad 'er larfin so 'ard, that's why.
It did not appear that way to me.
That's cos you wuz too busy tryin' to pull the tart wiv the big bristols.
That's as maybe. Anyway, did you want something specific.
Yeah. I 'as a joke fer yer.
Go on then. I doubt I will get any peace until you tell me.
Well, see, ev'ry mornin', Bill Clinton takes a jog near 'is 'ome, an' on each run, he 'appens to jog past a prozz standin' on the same street corner, day afta day.
"Fifty dollars!" she would shout from the curb.
"Naw five dollars" 'e'd fire back.
This ritual 'tween the ex-prez an' the 'ooker goes on fer sev'ral days. He'd run by. She'd 'oller, "Fifty dollars" 'E'd yell back, "Five dollars!"
One day, 'is missus, 'Illary decides she wants ta go wiv 'im on 'is jog. As they is nearin' the infamus corner, Bill sudde'ly realises the ol' brass wud bark 'er offer fer all ta 'ear (includin' 'Ills) an' 'e wud 'ave ta come up wiv a gud explanashun. As they jog up ta the corna sure enuff there she wuz, so Bill tries to evade 'er eyes as they cruises past.
She sez nuffin, an' 'e finks 'e 'as got away wiv it until she yells out, "See wot yer gets fer five bucks"
I fort that wuz qwite funny.
Marginally more amusing than your normal jokes I have to admit.
So 'as yer got summink gud ta show us before we packs it in fer the nite?
OK. Here's something clever. Whoever thought this one up was quite inventive.
Mirror imagery.That's pretty gud Zizz. I 'as wun fer you. X-Man .
See ya Zizz, I is goin' to me cupboard now. I 'as a mucky movie ta watch. Nite.
Goodnight Clive.

Couch Surf

I belong to a worldwide friendship collective called CouchSurf. I have been a member for about six months and have had the pleasure of hosting members from all over the world, and from these, lasting friendships are emerging. My pleasure is the meeting with new people from all sorts of backgrounds and cultures, and the opportunity to share some of my life's experiences with them. They in turn have somewhere to stay for a few days whilst on route, or, as is beginning to happen now, people are specfically coming to see me.

I wrote about Dorota and Pawel's banquet, so now wish to add a mention of the C.S. guests who joined us for the New Year. Amber and Teresa arrived on Dec. 29th, They are American girls presently living and working in Spain, part of a uni project back home.

The following day Judith and her two travelling companions, Jan and Marilyn arrived. They are from Quebec, but currently studying in Lithuania. So, with South African lodger Leo (pic taker) and Teresa's new Spanish boyfriend, Roberto, we were quite a mini-league of nations.This was us before they trooped off to the beach for the midnight celebrations, returning later to continue the party.
I wanted to take some pics then but me cam'ra wou'dn't work.
That is because I removed the memory card, anticipating you might have thoughts along such lines and capture snaps of my guests in uncompromising positions.

A special mench to Amber (she's the crazy bird blendin' in wiv the wall) with whom I had a most deep and meaningful interaction, resulting in she giving me three weeks to define 'ist'.
(It wuz you who sed she wuz crazy Zizz. Wot the 'ells a ist when it's at 'ome?
Well that is what I have to define Clive. There is a condition. She reserves the right to challenge each and everything I say or claim if it in any way is directed at her personally, ie, suggesting the suffix applies to her.
Like wot duz that mean?
Well, it means she does not subscribe to being an 'ist' herself.
Like 'feminist' an' 'mefferdist'.
Basically,
Or Boodist, eh Zizz. I wudn't 'av minded showin' 'er a few ov me rope tricks.
Any wordsmiths who fancy having a shot at defining 'ist' themselves, please go ahead. I will be most interested to read opinions on this off-beat subject, as I am sure my new-found young American friend will.
Well, I fort she wuz alright, even if she wuz madder than cheese. I'll remember 'er.
And so will I Clive, and not just for the bottle of Temperanillo they brought from the famed Rioja area where they reside.
'Ere Zizz. D'you remember that Monty Pyfon sketch about Oz table wines.
Oh yes. Eric Idle as the Australian wine expert. How did it go?......

......A lot of people in this country pooh-pooh Australian table wines. This is a pity as many fine Australian wines appeal not only to the Australian palate but also to the cognoscenti of Great Britain.

Black Stump Bordeaux is rightly praised as a peppermint flavoured Burgundy, whilst a good Sydney Syrup can rank with any of the world's best sugary wines.

Château Blue, too, has won many prizes; not least for its taste, and its lingering afterburn.

Old Smokey 1968 has been compared favourably to a Welsh claret, whilst the Australian Wino Society thoroughly recommends a 1970 Coq du Rod Laver, which, believe me, has a kick on it like a mule: eight bottles of this and you're really finished. At the opening of the Sydney Bridge Club, they were fishing them out of the main sewers every half an hour.

Of the sparkling wines, the most famous is Perth Pink. This is a bottle with a message in, and the message is 'beware'. This is not a wine for drinking, this is a wine for laying down and avoiding.

Another good fighting wine is Melbourne Old-and-Yellow, which is particularly heavy and should be used only for hand-to-hand combat.

Quite the reverse is true of Château Chunder, which is an appellation contrôlée, specially grown for those keen on regurgitation; a fine wine which really opens up the sluices at both ends.

Real emetic fans will also go for a Hobart Muddy, and a prize winning Cuivre Reserve Château Bottled Nuit San Wogga Wogga, which has a bouquet like an aborigine's armpit.

Classic stuff.

H.N.Y.

My PC clock says it is a couple of minutes before the New Year. We had our party earlier, and the others have gone to the beach now to join in with the celebrations down there. The fireworks should start any second - yep, there they go. Here's your greeting from me.

Nearing Year's End

It's close to midnight...where have I heard that line before.
Michael Jackson's Friller.
Quite right Clive. An eventful year is coming to a close, with quite a number of disappoinments towards the end. But it seems, now that I have got rid of one or two nagging elements, improvements are happening daily, so in my view, ...(from the chair) ...thank you Clive, it augurs well for 2007.
I fort an auger was a borin' tool.
I would agree it certainly isn't a particularly interesting piece of hardware, but in this instance, we are talking a different spelling.
Oh, I gets yer drift, like fings is lookin' up. Prospects is rosy.
Let us say confidence is ascending.

Tells yer what Zizz, that crumpet that arrived yesterday an' today is 'ittin' it off. Listen to 'em.
I know Clive. Now they have discovered the karaoke program on the lounge laptop, there is no stopping them. Personally, I cannot abide karaoke. I would rather listen to Frank Ifield yodel, and that is not a prospect to dwell too long upon.
I know Zizz. You is like me - inta rock, an' you don't care much for country or western eiver. What's that fing that Jasper Carrott did a few years back - summink about c&w music.
Oh yes. I recall. He came up with the conclusion that all country music is based on just five subjects. Mothers, Prisons, Farms, Trucks and Trains, and wrote the definitive c&w song.

Since they took me mother off ta prison
Things down on the farm ain't been the same
The day they fin'ly let her out the jailhouse
She run her goddamn truck into a train.

Nite Y'all

Get Out of That One

OK. This is my last post for tonight. It's after 5am, and I should get a bit of sleep. I have a couple of American girls arriving later in advance of the NYE Zizzeybash.
An' more comin' on Saturday.
Indeed; three more young ladies, from Canada.
I don't know 'ow you copes Zizz.
It's a tough life Clive, but somebody has to keep the flag flying. Your flag's been flyin' at 'alf mast fer ages.
Not totally correct Clive, but certainly a bevvy of new talent around the place could promote redirection to the erection.
That's pretty poe'ical for this time of the mornin' .
Flagging inspirations from a fertile mind my diminutive compadre.
Well I ain't quite ready fer kip meself yet. Alright if I watches a film on yer big screen? I 'as a new one from the vid shop - 'Mutant Muvvers from Mars Meet the Zombie Morons'.
A lesbian love story I presume?
Dunno Zizz. I can only go on wot it sez on the box. Reckons it's loaded wiv SFX, wotever them are.
Special Effects Clive, and with a title like that, it would have to be.
So it's goodnight from me...
...an' goodnight from 'im. I s'pose I 'as to be Morecambe, 'cause you is the wise one.
How true Clive, how true.