crazybrave

Courtesy of that genius Morrissey:

I know it’s over
And it never really began
But in my heart it was so real
And you even spoke to me, and said :
“If you’re so funny
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
And if you’re so clever
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
If you’re so very entertaining
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
If you’re so very good-looking
Why do you sleep alone tonight ?
I know …
‘Cause tonight is just like any other night
That’s why you’re on your own tonight
With your triumphs and your charms
While they’re in each other’s arms…”
It’s so easy to laugh
It’s so easy to hate
It takes strength to be gentle and kind

Grace under pressure (see, gentle and kind)

Let’s see how gentle and kind the “leftist media conspiracy” is. I hope he gets well and lives happily on his substantial pension.

And that poor Ms Fits isn’t stuck with too many pairs of Latham boxers. I don’t think they come in Beazley’s size. Might squeeze J-Gi into a pair of boy legs, though.

From the Australian Breastfeeding Association’s magazine:

“A microwave cleaning tip: fill a paper cup with water and a few tablespoons of baking soda. Heat it for about 30 seconds or until you see the contents explode. Then just take a paper towel and wipe it all off. The explosion spreads the cleanser over the entire area, and you can even use the moistened rag or paper towel to wipe outside the microwave and its surrounding area.”

I love doing things the easy way.

I’m tired of being an infant in an “It’s Time” t-shirt, so I’ve put up a proper photo of myself.

It’s from my 1948 advertising campaign for Modess sanitary products. The American campaign.

My later French ones look more like this:

which I wouldn’t post on the web.

For some reason I do not have the computer skills to fathom, on IE my sidebar appears at the end of all the posts, so you’ll have to scroll down, or get firefox.

PS I don’t not speak French and find the “plus mince” bit a little disturbing.

(From the rather marvellous “Museum of Menstruation and Womens’ Health” site.)

Amanda is the nicest girl, in addition to having exquisite musical taste. I posted a Bob Dylan epiphany and she sent me two CDs of different recordings of “Blood on the Tracks”, the record I fell in love with. They are much slower in parts than the version we had, so I’ve also had the pleasure of the house being filled with the sound of O learning “Tangled up in Blue” on the guitar.

Tim at Road to Surfdom has been toying with Amanda’s beautiful meme. Scroll down to “thing 3″ and ponder:

When I am an eccentric billionaire with a mountain I will carve out a musical Mt Rushmore: Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, Bruce Springsteen, Randy Newman.”

It’s harder than it sounds. For me it’s Elvis, Dylan, Hendrix and John Frusicante. Bob Marley and Tricky will be represented by the pilgrims smoking spliffs while they admire the view. The Rev Gary Davis will be represented by the tears of joy that spring to the pilgrims’ eyes.

O is stilling mulling over his selection. I told him mine and he got a bit concerned – “You’re talking about a whole mountain here. You have to think of the aesthetics”.

You know about my near-namesake being carved in the hills of South Dakota, right? The largest statue in the world, crafted with dynamite and love. The Black Hills have been -are – a really interesting part of American history. There is an excellent book called “Bury my heart at wounded knee” by Dee Brown which I suggest you all go out and obtain now.

My friend Fiasco da Gama recently lent my the first “Brio Girls” novel I’ve ever read, “Good-bye to all that”. Here is a description from Amazon: “Tired of dating jerks, Solana vows not to date until the right guy comes along but when he does, she faces the decision of whether she’s ready to go all the way, amid objections from her Christian friends.”*

You will not be surprised that she does, knowing teenagers and all, but as the only “non-Christian” in her group of friends, they were VERY SAD. Of course, she was left feeling odd and strangely empty. If I was naughty, I might say the problem was she should have been left feeling odd and strangely full, but let’s leave that there.

Anyway, it got me thinking about the pervasiveness of evangelical Christianity, and the desire to move only within a community of one’s own believers. Which, of course, brought me to the Christian tattooing community. Yes, Ink for Jesus!

As you might expect, there is a corresponding “tattoos are evil and ungodly“movement. I recommend that you do what the guy on that last link says, and follow the segments of the article sequentially. They DO build on each other, and it IS worth it. You’ll see things like this:

and this:

which you wouldn’t want to miss, would you?

* If you are indeed a Christian of this genre, you may prefer to shun this book. Here is a rather marvellous reader review from Amazon which explains why:

Christian Parents BEWARE! — Soft porn for teenie boppers, March 24, 2004
Reviewer: A reader
I read this book this evening because my teenage daughter was concerned about the content after hearing some of her friends in Youth Group talking about it. From my perspective — as a Christian mom of two teens — this book was really not much more than soft porn wrappped in “Christian” garb. A few morals thrown in doesn’t undo the loss of innocence a young girl could experience from reading this book. Fortunately, the book leaves out the graphic details of the main character’s multiple sexual encounters with her boyfriend (who she’s only been dating for a month or so when they start sleeping together). But what it leaves out in details, it leaves up to your imagination … and I honestly don’t want my teenage girls “imagining” what’s going on in this girl’s boyfriend’s bedroom when his mom’s not home. Once innocence is lost — whether it’s physically or just in your heart and mind — it can’t be restored. Shame on Focus on the Family for promoting this book. I’m going to read some of the other books in the series to see if they’re of the same ilk. I suspect the other books aren’t nearly as risque’ because the main characters in the other books are Christians who believe in waiting until marriage for sexual intimacy (unlike the main character in this book). But as for this particular title in the BRIO Girls series, steer far away if you value your teenage daughter’s moral innocence.

Continued mutterings about Latham’s illness, activities and future are providing journalists with something to speculate about in the sleepy languour of January. There has even been Latham spotting (he went to the pictures! he mowed the lawn!). But, I ask you, how could anyone seriously call this “an intriguing mystery”

Despite my enjoyment of Bob McMullan’s deliciously naughty comment that:

“if Mr Latham was taking strong painkillers for his pancreatitis, which could make it difficult to sound rational and sensible, it would be sensible to avoid public appearances”,

I can understand a doctor saying take it easy, avoid your ridiculously high pressure job and enjoy some time with the missus and kids.

But I still have some sympathy to the view of “many Labor MPs, including his supporters”, as reported by Mark Metherell in the SMH, that

“if he was well enough to mind his children as they played in a pool at Terrigal, he was well enough to sign a declaration of sympathy for the tsunami victims”.

It’s not like he would have to write it. The days of the Prime Minister travelling by ship to England (Menzies did that, right?) are over. Mobile phones have killed it. I’m not a big fan of mobiles, and in particular the expectations of availability they have created, but this situation was not handled well. It needed to be.

For the historically minded, this is what Lyndon B. Johnson did when the popular Governor of Texas entered the race for a vacant Senate seat in 1941:

When doctors told Johnson he would have to be hospitalised, a violent scene erupted at his Happy Hollow Lane house. He insisted to Connally and Gordon Fulcher, an American-Statesman reporter working in his campaign, that his illness be kept secret – an insistence that the two aides considered irrational since he wouldn’t be able to make scores of public appearances that head already been scheduled; in Connally’s words, “He just threw a fit, went into a tirade, ordered us out of the house, said he never wanted to talk to us again.” His hospitalisation – not in Austin, but, for reasons of secrecy, at the private Scott and White Clinic in Temple, 57 miles away – was in fact kept quiet for almost a week; fiery stump speaker Everett Looney substituted for Johnson at speaking engagements, saying that the candidate was “busy with organisational work” – an excuse echoed by Marsh’s cooperative American-Statesman. When, in the second week, the candidate’s whereabouts became public knowledge, the American-Statesman explained that “the young congressman is getting a much-needed rest from congressional and campaign worries.”) The situation became so serious that Wirtz abruptly resigned his Interior Department post and rushed back to Texas to run the campaign on the spot. There may even have been some doubt that Johnson would resume the campaign; there was quiet talk that if he didn’t get out of hospital sooon, he might withdraw, using his illness as an excuse. “But,” Lady Bird [Johnson] says, “he did get out.”

- an extract from Robert Caro’s “The Years of Lyndon Johnson: The Path to Power”, a brilliant book I have now finished. All 768 pages – starting Volume 2 today.

The idea that God signed his name in a wave off Sri Lanka just after the tsunami hit is beyond my understanding.

How would God have let us know before satellite photography? And why didn’t He SMS?

Wouldn’t the devastation and death be enough?

The Sunday Canberra Times and I agree. The leering yobbos of the past seem to have stopped coming to Summernats or smartened up their acts. Without people pissing on your shrubs and rooting in your driveway, Summernats is a totally choice way to dump $20 million into the local economy over a long weekend.

I mean, how can you be sad about a bit of revving and fireworks when this pulls up next to you at the lights?

Or this. You may just be able to make out the numberplate – it’s TOEYV8. Noice. The special Summernats supplement in the paper today featured some of the more “creative” plates around – like TITS LOW, VL2DY4, ITSSIK , V8MUSL and – my favourite – LOW O1Q. Indeed.

The newspaper snappers didn’t get all the good numberplates. To do they would have had to leave Exhibition Park and cruise the titty bars of nearby Mitchell. Which is what I did to find Q2PERV. Lovely, isn’t it?

Thoughtfully, such venues provide transport for inebriated rev-heads.

The security guy with the waving on wand outside Exhibition Park was very apologetic about us being stuck behind the mini bus, but I was too busy wondering if anyone really thought they would find “Brigett” at a Canberra pole dancing joint. (Although you never know, it is the sector’s busiest time of the year. We even have to import tarts from Sydney.)

It looks like so much fun I think we should all go next year and compete. I have given a little run down of some of the more popular events below to help you chose your category.

BURNOUTS

“They put water on the track to start with … what the judges look for is instant smoke, and you need a dry surface to do that. [Debbie Gray, overall winner in 2001] said budding burnout masters should control the car as it was driven down to the burnout pad, keeping the wheel-speed high but the speed of the car low.”

The aim is to blow out both tyres – “That’s what you want,” [husband and 2003 champ Peter Gray] said, “blow one, and the crowd will love you. Blow two, and you’re a god.”

GO TO WHOA

Is where you start fast as buggery and stop on a white line 100 metres away. Summernats announcer Milton Adey says: “Go to whoa’s a nice, safe club event. It shows the driving skill, gets you out in front of the crowd … but you don’t have to hurt your car, burnouts are a bit severe.”

MISS SUMMERNATS

Won this year by 23 Tania Lazarou, a trainee neurosurgeon Qantas trolley dolly from Northern Sydney who placed third last year. “I do like to think it was my personality and confidence” Tania said. Which makes sense to me. On the other hand, it is possible that it was her fantastic legs and big tits which got her over the line.

* Quotes are from Saturday’s Canberra Times and bugger me if I can be bothered digging up the individual links after arsing around with stupid Picassa (Hello? Hello?) for fourteen hours.