The Guests From Hell have had a baby.
They named the poor child Jada Katholeen. I did not mistype the second name.
I think to fully appreciate the effect you need to say it in a hillbilly drawl.
“Jahdar Kath-oh-leeeen, git in ‘ere an eat ya vitals’
Telemarketers Beware
Further to my telemarketing adventure of a few days ago I found this – the anti-telemarketing counterscript (courtesy of Daniel’s magnificent diary). As they describe on the page the power dynamic in a telemarketing conversation is established by the caller’s strict adherence to a script. This page contains a script for you – the harassed recipient.
At the end of the script there’s even a handy printable version to keep by the phone.
Book Obsession Builds
On the weekend it struck me that I wanted to read Fast Food Nation. So whilst in Yarraville yesterday I popped in to the Sun Bookshop. They didn’t have a copy.
“Never-mind,” I thought ” I’ll try Books In Print on Monday. It’s not that important.”
Books In Print let me down. (I really want that book now.)
So did Jefferies. (I must have that book TODAY!)
So did Dymocks. (Now there is nothing more important in this world now than finding a copy of this bloody book. NOTHING.)
However, I am willing to wait a few days if some kind benefactor wishes to come to my aid. But only a few.
Stop Press
I found it! Collins at Altona Gate had it so I now have it. If you’re feeling magnanimous though I still have a book on my wish list.
Extreme Telemarketing
It seems that telemarketers in the USA must have run out phone numbers.
The phone rings today at lunch. Strange accent asks for Mr Bartlett. Seeing as how Mr Bartlett doesn’t exist and therefore won’t complain I say ‘speaking’. It’s a telemarketer from San Diego trying to palm off some dodgy software deal. Next time I’m going to ask them to hold and then take Phee for a walk down the street.
Doggie Doggie Doggie
Yesterday was the jumper presentation/family day for the Doggies. Rae got to have a good perve at her favourite boys and Phee even overcame her shyness to have her photo taken with Woofa (click picture on left) and some of the boys. For some reason Rae was most keen for Phee to have her pic taken with Luke Darcy.
Nothing Says Happy Christmas Like
Nothing says happy christmas like … a box of citrus fruit?
It must be an American thing.
It’s Live
www.melbourneice.com is live. It’s a good feeling to see something you’ve worked on for so long finally make it to publication. So, what do you think?
Nigel – will take you up on your offer when I have all the files.
Something Has Gone Wrong
I’m not sure what’s going on, I’ve just caught myself singing along to Withcita Lineman (lyrics) on the audio program at work. And it wasn’t the groovy R.E.M version either.
Bing Crosby, Glen Campbell – this is becoming very very embarrassing.
Continue reading “Something Has Gone Wrong”
Christmas
It’s Christmas. Know how I can tell? It’s getting hot? Phee won’t stop talking about Santa? Nope. I know ’cause Bing Crosby is singing to me.
When I was but a lad Dad always seemed to be playing Merry Christmas, a collection of Chrissy songs crooned by the one and only Bing Crosby. Whenever I hear Bing singing any of these songs, but especially Christmas In Killarny, Mele Kalkimaki and It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas I’m taken back to Blamey St with the old 33rpm spinning and memories of wondering what Lego Santa was going to bring me.
Today I heard Mele Kalikimaka on the audio at work and thought ‘I have to have a copy of that CD’. A quick trip to the shops and I now have it playing on my PC. Dad probably won’t believe it when he reads this but it’s true. Christmas ain’t Christmas without Bing, and it’s all thanks to you Dad.
Bizarre
I’m sitting in my office at work listening to a corridor conversation between Mary the Cleaner and Nameless Guy The Security Guard discussing the relative merits of getting in to prostitution as opposed to cleaning toilets. Mary is most adamant that prostitution is a very dirty job.
I turn up my music and shake my head.