Universe Daily

Reading on Africa

2007-08-07T01:05:00.000+02:00

Occasionally, I read. As time passes I find myself reading much less fiction than non. Truth as they say is stranger. And being a long time resident of Africa and being in the development business (and it is indeed that. Forget the notion of tied-dyed, trendy-lefty, malaria-carrying do-gooders. This is a business.) I am wont to read a fair amount on Africa—and publishing on the African development business is itself an industry.

I’ve recent read The State of Africa by Martin Meredith, a history of the African continent in the past 50 years, that is since the first colonial African countries—Sierra Leone, formerly the Gold Coast and Ghana--gained independence. It’s a catalogue of disaster; man-made and otherwise; of the former, kleptomania, tribalism, ineptitude, greed, and plain stupidity, most recently exemplified by Mugabe of Zimbabwe. Of the latter, famine, drought, flood and various other biblical plagues. While the book itself is a readable and as far as I can tell accurate account, it offers little if any analysis for Africa’s dire circumstances, let alone broad suggestions on what might be done such as could be comprehensible by a layman like me. I love analyses. They generally give me plenty of opportunity to mumble ‘Bollocks’ or occasionally ‘Fuck OFF!’ which in turn gives my partner chance to say ‘That’s not nice, darling.’ Even so, The State is perversely enjoyable and well worth the time to obtain an overview of African history in the last half-century.

Not so Capitalist Nigger by Chika Onyeani. (Over 20 000 copies sold in South Africa!) The title is presumably designed to appeal to a wide audience; progressive black people who might be both attracted and appalled by the ‘nigger’ and apologist whiteys who enjoy the odd titular juxtaposition. It’s one of those books that they pile high and deep at the airport bookstores; just the thing to say you’ve read on the flight to Nairobi or Addis. The premise seems to be that Africans remain in a state of bondage to their former colonial masters and need to adopt a kind of social networking economy that the author claims to have been perfected by the ‘Asians’.
I say ‘seems’, not because I’m in the habit of using that tentative, academic style of non-assertion but because I can’t finish it. I can’t finish it because it’s the worst book I’ve ever read. My buddy Gerard says it’s the second worst book he’s ever read. He can’t remember the worst, he says, but there must be one. For the time being, this will do.

Let’s not begin to discuss the premise of the book itself; let’s just say it might make for an interesting argument, perhaps even an important one. We’ll never know, at least not from this book. Every page has a new horror; of logic, prejudice, grammar, spelling or plain inaccuracy. Any page. I open the book, weeping inwardly for the tree that gave its life for this.
Page 104; ‘The Chinese, on the other hand, control how America eats. Even in the movies, you always see the actors or actresses ordering one form of Chinese food or another. Africans spend a lot of money eating or ordering Chinese foods. Our African missions to the UN…spend millions of dollars eating Chinese food a year. I have never seen an Chinese going to an African restaurant to reciprocate our patronage.’ (sic.)

What?

I count 8 unsupported assertions, grammatical errors, or specious arguments in one short paragraph.
Take p76; ‘The continent is still a haze (to African-Americans) with the problems of poverty, diseases such as the pandemic AIDS scourge transmitted by Caucasians into Africa, the problem of all kinds of wars.’

I’m sorry?

In my world—clearly not his--Mr Onyeani would not get a passing mark for this drivel in primary school, despite the laudatory comments by two (count them) apparent academics from institutions that I for one would find it hard to recommend. Mr Onyeani is to be roundly condemned for using up his crayons on such deplorable nonsense. But a more grievous sin is that of Jonathan Ball Publishers who seem to have excused themselves from the more conventional albeit tedious task of lending their rapidly-waning credibility to inflicting this misleading twaddle on a gullible public. It was sadly #10 on the best sellers list for non-fiction last week.

I weep.

OK, if you can get your skirt to do this, I'll give you 50 bucks.

2007-06-21T05:52:00.000+02:00

It's Winter. My ass was cold.

2007-06-21T05:43:00.000+02:00

It's a pachyderm, Brian. Say 'Awwww.'

2007-06-12T08:16:00.000+02:00

Chilling, as it were...

2007-06-12T08:12:00.000+02:00

Not scary at all, really. Quite cute...

2007-05-30T05:00:00.000+02:00

Scary Animals

2007-05-30T04:54:00.000+02:00

Kigali, Rwanda

2007-02-05T06:29:00.000+02:00

Phonetic Alphabet

2007-02-05T06:23:00.000+02:00

You know the thing; A for alpha, F for foxtrot--that sort of thing.

How about these; let's start with some simpler ones.

N for lope
T for two
X for breakfast

but what about...

B for fish
V for la France,

or even...

U for mizzam
P for ming seals?

Pondering...Life. The Universe. Everything.

2007-02-02T05:01:00.000+02:00

Biggles Flies Again!

2007-02-02T04:54:00.000+02:00

My main Christmas present! Not quite Bond, but serious fun. The Tiger Moth is a 1930's vintage aircraft.

Balls

2007-01-15T11:04:00.000+02:00

So, David Beckham goes to LA Galaxy to play soccer? That would be from real Madrid to contrived Los Angeles? And Luis Figo goes to somewhere absurd, like Doha or Abu Dhabi?
Pecuniam non olet.
Show me the money.
In the dim and distant past I recall an abortive attempt at a North American League which attracted the stellar (albeit by then waning) talents of George Best and Pele. History repeats. Beckham was on the way out by the time he moved to Real, thanks in part to that dour bastard Ferguson at United. I get the sense that there were few in the UK that wept many tears, except perhaps the Man U. hardliners. Such is British society; build ‘em up and tear ‘em down. It’s the rules. An issue is Beckham will stand out so much that clubs like Galaxy or Fire will need to spend a boatload more money to create a team around him that could actually play the game as a unit.
A report in today’s paper had it that in the US sah-karr is a game for kids, women and Hispanics. Sure, there’s a million soccer moms, and exhibition games seem to attract a fair crowd, the national Women’s team is great and it’s always terrific to see the boys play in the World Cup. But. Despite Beckham and whoever else might be attracted to the game in the States, I can’t honestly see it really taking off. Soccer challenging the NBA? Football? Baseball? I don’t think so. The reverse is also true; basketball rivalling soccer in Europe? Nah.
Does it matter? Not a bit. The Beckhams will earn a king’s ransom, and good luck to them. There’ll be another hero to adore, the league will make a shekel or two, stylists might have a tad more inspiration (I’m open to argument on that one) and more kids will spend more time in the fresh air, rather than being huddled over a steaming Xbox.
Plus, if Disney or whomever wake up and give the squirrel from Ice Age his dues with a full-length feature, they’ve got the voice artist right there.
Oh, and happy New Year. Look after your nuts. May your God go with you.

2007-01-04T14:45:00.000+02:00

You Are Kermit

Hi, ho! Lovable and friendly, you get along well with everyone you know.
You're a big thinker, and sometimes you over think life's problems.
Don't worry - everyone know's it's not easy being green.
Just remember, time's fun when you're having flies!

The Muppet Personality Test

The Safety Announcements

2006-12-03T11:28:00.000+02:00

After having already flown for the better part of 11 hours, yours truly was a little tetchy, in dire need of some sleep, a shower, unswollen feet, blah, blah. Thanks BA, but World Traveller Plus isn't that marvellous, although an additional 4 microns kneeroom makes all the difference. The 'late arrival of the incoming aircraft' for a further 90 minutes and the inability of British Airports to organise a gang (sorry, 'team') of bodies to load the bloody baggage did nothing to help the usually tranquil and accomodating mood.
However three cheers to the crew of BMED airlines; the cap'n did come to the cattle class cabin and placate the masses, and the Scots purser made some amusing announcements, usually the preserve of Virgin, viz.
1)'In the event of a water landing (a WHAT?) remove the lifejacket...' (and so forth)....'the light and whistle can be used to attract the attention of passing sailors. (always useful I feel. Even on dry land.)
2)'safety regulations require us to dim the cabin lights on take-off.' (that always baffles me, but OK, whatever.)'Should you wish to carry on reading, or you're afraid of the dark, a reading light is available on the overhead panel.'
Hey, it's not much but every little helps, as the actress said to the bishop.

Well, I Never....

2006-12-03T11:09:00.000+02:00

In desperation, yours truly was compelled to watch CNN last night, it being the only English language station available in this here town. After 26 hours travelling, I just couldn't face Charlize Toe-run in French. (what was that movie where she does the deranged killer- with that Ricci woman?)Anyway, CNN.
Jon Stewart? What is that bloke ON? Manic indeed. He and George Clooney in bed together? Boggle. Bloody terrific to watch him taking the piss out of the Administration. Are there any parallels between I-rak and Vietnam? 'No.' says POTUS. Really? thinks I. 'Gurnnn.' as Hepburn would have it. (And when did YOU last see 'My Fair Lady'?)
I know I'm so far out of it to be laughable, but CNN running a show that really, but really lambasts His Highness? Interesting move on the whole policy thing. When did they start that? Ted?

2006-10-22T11:42:00.000+02:00

Addis. Not so pleasant; shanties just beyond the walls of the Hilton. Wonder how those poor folk feel...

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2006-10-22T11:39:00.000+02:00

Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Quite pleasant from here. No Rastas and sadly not a whiff of ganga, but you can't have it all....

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2006-09-26T14:18:00.000+02:00

Kwaaibaai, Cape West Coast, South Africa

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2006-09-26T14:17:00.000+02:00

Lobster boats & factory, Lambert's Bay, South Africa

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Diamond Boats

2006-09-26T14:15:00.000+02:00

The photo was taken at Lambert's Bay, West Coast, Western Cape Province in South Africa. These are in-shore boats, the smaller cousins of off-shore boats. (wow!)The large diameter hoses (on the jetty and trailing behind the boats on the sea surface) are simply large vacuum hoses that suck gravel off the seabed and onto the boats where the gravel is sorted. The hoses are operated by divers; hard, cold and exhausting work, so much so that the divers can work a mere 6 days a month.

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2006-09-26T14:12:00.000+02:00

Cape Gannet colony, Bird Island, Lambert's Bay, South Africa

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2006-09-21T12:54:00.000+02:00

Caption Contest....Write one. All contributions gratefully received.

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2006-09-21T12:53:00.000+02:00

To Boldly Go Where No Duck Has Gone Before

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5 Years Hence

2006-09-11T16:20:00.000+02:00

It was about 5 in the afternoon, as I remember and people were going home for the day. It got progressively quieter as people turned off their airconditioners. I was working at Jwaneng Mine in Botswana, way out in the Kalahari desert. My phone rang and it was my daughter, calling from Johannesburg. 'Dad.' she said, 'You'd better go home and turn on the TV, there's been some attack in New York.' I called our General manager, Steve Gould and told him to go and turn on CNN. I didn't have a TV at the time, so I went home and waited for VOA to come on as the sun went down. I must have sat listening to the car radio for three or four hours.
Horrified.

2006-09-08T09:02:00.000+02:00

Not that I'm feeling oppressed or anything...

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Audio Difficulties?

2006-08-30T17:52:00.000+02:00

Oh my, how the mighty are fallen. 'Audio difficulties' right up there with the more alluring 'wardrobe malfunction'. And presumably Iraq is a what? 'Sense of humour failure'? Sophistry at it's best; but perhaps far more intruiging than listening to Herr Bush waffling on about the Katrina debacle.

The Washing of the Feet

2006-08-28T13:42:00.000+02:00

This is pretty impressive. Vlok was an absolute bastard-the supremo of State security on the days of apartheid. He used to give me the creeps just on TV, and I was--after all--very privileged.
Hope does indeed spring eternal.

There Were No Survivors...

2006-08-24T13:19:00.000+02:00

It's over Jeff. It really is. What's the tagline? 'Give apartheid another chance'?

The Traffic Joke

2006-08-14T16:36:00.000+02:00

Am I a Polar Bear?

2006-08-11T13:07:00.000+02:00

I'll do the rest over the weekend...

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2006-08-03T20:45:00.000+02:00

Such as today...

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2006-08-02T15:58:00.000+02:00

No, not exactly...

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2006-07-30T08:06:00.000+02:00

Slumming it in South Africa

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Dispatches

2006-07-29T20:15:00.000+02:00

Yeah, it's been a while. Apologies to all BlueFans everywhere.

London is just wonderful. I was there a week ago. Every corner you turn, there's something that leaves you gobsmacked. For example, I get out of the Tube at Charing Cross, turn right, walk a bit and there's this HUGE phallic symbol with a bloke in a frock on top. Looks vaguely familiar; Nelson's Column. Well, we all know about him, DON'T we? 'Kiss me, Hardy!' Yeah, right.
Turn another corner and there's a plaque on the wall of some beautifully preserved terraced houses; 'Herman Melville (and a date..) the author, lived here and whilst in residence wrote Moby Dick.' (Or words to that effect. Where is my bloody camera?)
Well!
Samuel Pepys, did his diaristic thing at Seething Gardens right next to the hotel.
Gosh!

Floating down the Thames on a wonderful jaunt with the famous and gorgeous photographer to Greenwich. HMS Albion moored on the banks; tour commentator yells (think camp, falsetto, Cockney accent) 'Hello Sailor!'I swear one blew a kiss. What is it with these jolly Jack Tars? Perhaps the heat?

Greenwich--as you know--is one site on the Prime Meridian. So there stood Blue, one foot in the West, one in the East and the nethers suspended in no-man's land. It was life-changing.

But. On the back of an omnibus in Woking, Surrey, a sign;

'Bus Driving Opportunities.
Call 123 465 789'

Which made me think. Imagine walking in and saying, 'I'd like the opportunity to drive a bus, please.' Do people scour the papers, looking for the 'opportunity' to drive a bus? As a career? Or is it just a job? An noble one, certainly, but right up there with an 'opportunity' to be a dustman or abbatoir operative? As for Blue, he'd like the opportunity to be a Porn Star (a la Love Actually)

Sitting on the bridge from the Shell Centre to the Thames Embankment, a woman, a down-at-heel woman, not badly dressed, certainly not a derelict, crying her eyes out, with hordes of tourists walking by, gaily snapping the Eye, Big Ben, the river, their shoes, cigarette butts, pigeon shit, yakking away in broad North Dakota or Mandarin or German--anything but acknowledging her. Why was she crying?

Blue recommendations for the day;

Movie; Lost in Translation
Song; I Hope You Dance (Lee Ann Womack or Ronan Keating. Follow your nose to watch videos and so forth. You'll need to endure a warning on pot to see Ms Womack. Just say nah.)

in a heartbeat..

I?

2006-07-05T13:38:00.000+02:00

..am inconsolable. Bereft. Grief-stricken.
Out of the World Cup? Beaten? By PORTUGAL?
Woe is me.
However, my sorrow was somewhat mollified by seeing 'March of the Penguins' last Saturday. I was a tiny bit distracted by the big one that sounded--on the voice over--like a waddly Inspector Clouseau, but even so, most enjoyable.
And you thought YOU had it tough...
Go 'Les Bleus'!
Blue (geddit?)

The Roar of the Greasepaint! The Smell of the Crowd!

2006-06-30T15:57:00.000+02:00

Many, many years ago, I was an extra in a movie starring Denholm Elliot set in South Africa--'Zulu Dawn'. It was the story of the Anglo-Zulu War of 1879, when the Brits still were known as Redcoats, and the Zulu Impis wiped out a British column attempting to invade Zululand; a particularily unsavoury episode in British Imperialism, it has to be said. Back when I was a callow youth, and impecunious student it seemed like a particularily terrific idea; do sod-all and get paid for it. Alright, one had to endure the occasionally-unwelcome attentions of the Boys from Wardrobe, but y'know, a quick dab of mud on the crotch (all in the interests of versimilitude you understand..) was a small price to pay. Free food! Free accomodation! The movie business! The glamour of it all! I was probably on-screen for 0.123 of a second, with a spear through the guts, but hey, it's a start.
(My pharmacist swears that I'm the spitting image of Kenneth Branagh, but then she is breath-takingly myopic.)
About 3 years ago, I was again rather short of folding money. Hell, I was short of any money, folding or otherwise. I signed up with 'Characters' to act (which is a probably over-stating it) or model for adverts, that kind of thing. Paid R350 to do a photoshoot for the portfolio. And waited for the flood of offers. And waited. Nothing. I concluded it was a scam.
But no.
Two weeks ago I got a call from my agent (sounds cool, right?) 'My agent'. 'My people will call your people.' kind-of-thing.
So, Tuesday, did a shoot at Gold Reef City for Suburban Productions, part of a documentary on the founding of the gold mining business in Jo'burg. I was a Victorian business man; embroidered waistcost, fob watch, the whole nine yards. I was astonishing. The critics raved. The crew applauded. The cast wept with wonder. If you want someone to shake hands, pour tea, smile engagingly, eat biscuits daintily, heck, I'm your man. Latest estimates are slightly better, probably 0.798 seconds, but that works out out at R1127.82 per second. What do you earn? No mud-in-the-crotch, but Ivan (the new Boy from Wardrobe) thought I looked DIVINE.
So. Move over Branagh. Lecter was lovely, Anthony, but enough already--Blue's coming.
If you simply MUST have a signed 9"x4", talk to my agent.
Thank you. I love you all.

I saw...

2006-06-26T20:16:00.000+02:00

..."Brokeback Mountain".
Yeah,yeah, I know, but this is the third world you know.
Brilliant.
Alright, I had to take a deep breath a one or two points. I'm not that liberated... Ledger was inspired. I'm sure you have already, but if not, you really should. Or alternately see it again.
'nuff said.

2006-06-23T17:13:00.000+02:00

Swedish Fan

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2006-06-23T17:12:00.000+02:00

Fan of Trinidad & Tobago

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2006-06-23T16:48:00.000+02:00

English fan

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Only in Africa

2006-06-22T11:49:00.000+02:00

...and in other news.....

The traffic on the N3 freeway outside Germiston was snarled this morning by a 3-car pile-up. No one was seriously hurt.
So what?
A articulated truck driver had pulled over to get some sleep last night. Meantime someone (or ones) had tried to steal the wheels off his truck and been disturbed. The outcome? As he continued his journey this morning, the wheels fell off. In trying to avoid them a Toyota crashed into an Opel, which crashed into etc. etc.

And in lighter vein; I usually get into work fairly early to avoid the traffic. One lady is always here before me; a lovely person; hard-working, reliable and a dedicated, practicing Christian. I always put my head around her door to say hello. She's usually reading her Bible or listening to sermons. More power to her.
But not today.
She was deeply engrossed in a new book. So deeply engrossed that she didn't notice my presence.
'What was this captivating book?' I hear you ask.

The Dummies Guide to...'Being Sexy.'
Complete with diagrams.
I've ordered my copy already.

Excerpt

2006-06-17T11:12:00.000+02:00

Angelina eased back in her chair and offered Rory a cigarette. They chatted about the favourite movies and occasionally passing cruel verdict on the passers-by while the guitarist ran through a weird repertoire. They found themselves naming the tunes. Predictably, Angelina won 7-3, but Rory chuckled with triumph at Danny Boy, Hey Jude, and Battle Hymn of the Republic.

Angelina sighed quietly. ‘It has been a long time since I have done this. Do you do this in South Africa?’
Rory felt the stubble on his jaw. ‘No.’ he said briefly. ‘There are plenty of parks—not like this—but they’re often too dangerous.’
‘But did you ever want to do this? Just sit and watch the world?’
He was aware of her stare. ’Why do I think there is a wrong answer to that question?’
‘Because there is a right answer.’
‘I don’t ever remember sitting in a park before.’ He checked his watch. ‘Not for nearly two hours. There never seemed enough to do. No, that’s wrong; it never struck me, actually.’
‘Never struck you?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It never occurred to me. You know, a park is where you take your kids on a Sunday afternoon to eat ice cream. I never had kids and there weren’t many Sundays to spare.’
‘That is very sad.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, of course. When do you get the chance to stop?’
Stop what? ‘Oh,’ he said airily. ‘Often enough. Aren’t you hungry?’
‘No not really. What went wrong with you and your wife?’

June 16th; reflections of a White Boy

2006-06-15T16:58:00.000+02:00

In contrast to the usually flippant and self-indulgent tenor of this blog, this is--for a change--rather serious.

June 16th is Youth Day in South Africa. It marks and pays honour to the children who on and around that day, first took to the streets in protest against the practice of teaching in Afrikaans, the language of the then oppressor; that was the ostensible reason. In reality it was the culmination of many decades of building resentment against the apartheid government and state in South Africa.

It was the beginning of the end of apartheid, which finally came to an end in 1994.

I'd only arrived in South Africa 9 months previously from a small village in Wales. Politics--especially violent politics--was as much as mystery to me as the craters of the moon. I was just trying to pass my final year of schooling.

We lived on Kimberley Road, Robertsham in the south of Johannesburg, perhaps 5 miles as the crow flies from the edge of Soweto, the major ghetto of Jo'burg. Or if you like the embodiment of all the fears of the white elite.

One evening I was woken up by the rumble of traffic and my father talking quietly. I got up and joined mum and dad outside in the cold. Convoy after convoy of police and military vehicles were heading into Soweto. The photograph below (acknowledgements to the City of Johannesburg)is why. Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of kids had finally give up and encouraged by their teachers had taken matters in to their own hands. No doubt many thought it was very exciting and at least a day off school. I doubt many thought that as they died.

A few nights later a Molotov Cocktail landed in our street. Also very exciting; except for my late father--an unabashed racist--who thought that the decision to move to South Africa may have been a monumental blunder.

Of course 30 years on people begin to forget and those days pass into history. We shouldn't. Shades of The Holocaust. My kids never knew apartheid. Thank God.

2006-06-15T16:51:00.000+02:00

Schoolchildren on the march in Soweto, June 1976

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2006-06-11T19:32:00.000+02:00

'Errr, woof?'

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2006-06-10T09:21:00.000+02:00

The photographer at Kirstenbosch Gardens in Cape Town

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As time goes by...

2006-06-09T19:25:00.000+02:00

The University of Ballygolightly digital clock

2006-06-01T08:36:00.000+02:00

Table Mountain, Cape Town

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WARNING

2006-05-31T17:41:00.000+02:00

This is not for the faint of heart.
I am a devotee of one Stephen Fry. If you have even the faintest interest in poetry you MUST read 'The Ode Less Travelled'

Here's a quote;

'It seems to me that the City of Poesy, with its associations of delicacy, refined emotion and exquisite literacy is all the richer for having these moral slums (comic and impolite verse) within its walls. No metropolis worth visiting is without its red-light district, its cruising areas and a Bohemian Villiage where absinthe flows, reefers glow and love is free.'

In that spirit here's an example of the most foul limerick you will probably ever read. I find it hilarious, but I'm funny like that.

You have been warned. Do not get all sniffy with me. Frankly, my dear....

There was an old man of Brienz,
The length of whose cock was immense.
With one swerve he could plug,
A boy's bottom in Zug
And a kitchen maid's ***t in Koblenz.

ta-da!

2006-05-28T19:12:00.000+02:00

Farm Dam, 'Wind in the Willows', Magaliesberg, North West Province, South Africa

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2006-05-28T19:09:00.000+02:00

'La Gratitude' on Dorp Street, Stellenbosch, Western Cape, South Africa

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Top 10 Chick Flicks

2006-04-29T12:45:00.000+02:00

...from E! Entertainment.

Beaches
Dirty Dancing
Ghost
The Notebook
Pretty Woman
Sleepless in Seattle
Steel Magnolias
Terms of Endearment
Thelma & Louise
When Harry Met Sally

Oh, good grief. I've seen 8 of them! It's the thin end of the wedge, I tell you.
And where is the best of the whole bunch, 'Love Actually?' In the top 50 apparently. Should be #1 IMHO.

Pastafarianism

2006-04-29T09:22:00.000+02:00

You've got to love it
Many thanks to Simon...

Billy Connolly’s Desiderata

2006-04-28T17:40:00.000+02:00

• Tread gently on anyone who looks at you sideways.

• Have lots of long lie-ins

• Wear sturdy socks, learn to grow out of medium underwear and, if you must lie about your age do it in the other direction; tell people you’re 97 and they’ll think you look fucking great.

• Try to catch a trout and experience the glorious feeling of letting it go and seeing it swim away.

• Never eat food that comes in a bucket.

• If you don’t know how to meditate at least try to spend some time everyday just sitting.

• Boo joggers

• Don’t work out, work in.

• Play the banjo

• Sleep with someone you like

• Eat plenty of liquorice

• Try to live in a place you like

• Marry someone you like

• Try to do a job you like

• Never turn down an opportunity to shout ‘Fuck them all!’ at the top of your voice

• Avoid bigots of all descriptions

• Let your own bed become to you what the pole Star was to sailors of old…look forward to it.

• Don’t wear tight underwear on aeroplanes

• Before you judge a man, walk a mile in his shoes. After that who cares?…he’s a mile away and you’ve got his shoes

• Clean your teeth and keep the company of people who will tell you when there’s spinach on them

• Avoid people who say they know the answer. Keep the company of people who are trying to understand the question

• Don’t pat animals with sneaky eyes.

• If you haven’t heard a good rumour by 11am, start one

• Send Hieronymus Bosch prints to elderly relatives for Christmas

• Don’t be talked into wearing a uniform

• Salute nobody

• Never run with scissors or other pointy objects

• Campaign against blue smarties

Another Badger Snag

2006-04-28T17:34:00.000+02:00

Accent: Brit/South African

Booze: Red wine (cab sav or merlot)

Chore I Hate: Most. I am barely domesticated.

Dog or Cat: *woof*

Essential Electronics: Laptop, with ADSL, cellphone with vibrator.

Gold or Silver: Silver

Hometown: Johannesburg

Insomnia: Occasionally under stress

Job Title: HR Partner

Kids: 2

Living arrangements: Rent a flat

Most admirable trait: Humour? It has been said *cough, cough* that I have eyes you could drown in, eyes that are very windows to the eternal…

Number of sexual partners: No, really. I blush. Only one that was seriously good.

Overnight hospital stays: 9, I think; birth of two kids, malaria and 2 nights in a sleep lab.

Phobias: Politicians

Quote: 'Avoid giving LSD to guide dogs.' (Billy Connolly)

Religion: Lapsed atheist. Now devotee of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

X-rays: Teeth, medicals.

Yummy foods I make: Nil.

Siblings: One younger brother. Good guy.

Time I wake up: 6-7 am

Unusual talent or skill: Flying and... dexterity, so I'm told.

Vegetable I refuse to eat: Brussels Sprouts!

Worst habit: Smoking

Zodiac sign: Scorpio

Plus ca change

2006-04-11T18:12:00.000+02:00

I have a new job title.
Human Resources Partner.
Howdy...

Raqi

2006-04-08T11:56:00.000+02:00

No, that's raqi. a.k.a. grappa.

Yours truly has been traversing the continent again; Nairobi,(twice) Cairo (twice) and Tirana in Albania--with a side trip to Elbasan, about an hour away up in the mountains.

Nairobi was, well, its usual chaos. Went to the famous 'Carnivore' restaurant; where one consumed such exotic delights as camel, (it does taste as you would imagine; tough and strangely salty) and crocodile. Think fish-flavoured chicken. Think there was some ostrich in there too, somewhere. Now that does taste like aggressive chicken, promise.

The main drag from the centre of town to the airport in Uhuru Highway. It's a disaster at the best of times. Three chaotic roundabouts (or traffic-circles, or whatever you call them there) So. Trying to get to the airport Friday night. Everybody and his brother and her dog were out. And there appeared from the horizon a thunderstorm such as which I've rarely seen, which promptly proceeded to precipitate on the assembled masses. Ye Gods; perhaps 6-7 inches in 20 minutes. The traffic ceased to flow entirely. I can't tell you the frustration. 90 minutes to do 10 miles? And I really, really needed to get home. However, happy ending; the plane was late in arriving, so after a near-coronary and a James Bond-like ejection from the taxi, we made it.

Egypt. Stayed in the Baron Hotel in Heliopolis as opposed to the Flamenco in Zamalek (about which I've opined before; right ON the Nile) Some looney Belgian Baron industrialist decided late 19th century to build a palace there. Before that factoid came to my attention, I wondered why there was a Buddhist temple in the middle of the city. Silly me.This 'temple' was the palace. There's a much less ornate building right across the street from the hotel. It's apparently President Mubarak's guest house for VVIP's; hence the 'no photographs' stickers on the hotel bedroom windows. I was moved to get a spot of fresh air one fine evening, and the guards who patrol the grounds made certain gestures suggesting that I was not welcome to take the Cairo late-evening air in that particular fashion. I duly desisted.

Albania. Distinctly weird. Enver Hoxha was a former dictator who made Stalin look conciliatory. The country is still struggling royally with the legacy of those times. I asked a colleague what it is that Albania exports, since we were sitting on the seashore near the main port at the time. Her dead-pan response was "Nothing except criminals, prostitutes and human traffic." The country is liberally scattered with the oddest concrete-lined, trash-can topped, one-man foxholes. They're everywhere; whole fields of them, near the coast, in the mountains, on the outskirts of the towns, all built by the Chinese apparently. The Soviets would have little if nothing to do with Hoxha--too revisionist--so he turned elsewhere.These to keep the impending invasion of somebody at bay. Who, I wonder; the Russians? The Americans? The Yugoslavs?

And speaking of the Chinese; we visited a small town in the mountains about an hour from the capital Tirana. Well, it would have been a small town apart from the semi-derelict and positively enormous steel mill also built by the Chinese, which reputedly has been the cause of many human birth defects due to the vast quantities of pollutants produced. We went further up into the hills to a small village where we visited a market-place constructed with the assistance of my employers, a schoolhouse (also a project) where I was entertained by the principal. (actually Direcktor, if you don't mind) Saw some very impressive agricultural projects and made all the right noises. No, really it was damn good. And was invited back to a local farmers house for coffee. Yeah, right. Coffee. (that glutinous, industrial strength Turkish stuff, served in a thimble.) And raqi, served in a shot-glass, locally produced grappa. This was the teeth-grinding, hissing, eye-watering, glass-slamming-on-the-bar moonshine that could--I well imagine--cause instant organ failure, terminal dandruff and premature ejaculation simultaneously with more delicate souls. However yours truly is made of sterner stuff; years of abuse, you understand. I seem to recall a pressurised "Ffffuckkkkk!" as it slid down, just before the narcotic effect took hold. I had two-and-a-half shots. Yes, I fell asleep on the drive back.

You remember the evil, gorgeous, Russian female spy from the Bond movies? Inevitably called Svetlana? Met her. Grey eyes, severe eyebrows, beautifully dressed, teased hair. Applied for a job with us. My other colleague, who is notorious with the ladies, was later treated for dehydration. He lost a lot of bodily fluid that hour. Most of it saliva.

English Patient

2006-04-03T16:43:00.000+02:00

..was not my most favourite movie, but the book is wonderful.

So far, the best line?

'He had been disassembled by her.
And if she has brought him to this, what has he brought her to?'

I get it, now don't I? Hands up all those who also get it...

Diluted to Death

2006-03-15T16:43:00.000+02:00

Ah well. After 24 years of marriage, 2 kids, a dozen cars, 4 houses and a roughly equal number of dogs, my wife and I have decided to call it a day and move on to other things. No great emotional turmoil, no 'scenes'--much like the marriage, come to think of it. Divorce in about 6 weeks. My daughter doesn't want to speak to me, but I hope she'll come around. I guess whatever there may have been just became excessively diluted until there was nothing left.
I don't FEEL like a bad person.

Around the World in 47 Years

2006-03-08T16:55:00.000+02:00

Yeah, nifty. But I'm bloody sure that Holland isn't on the list.And some of the places I've been are so damn small they barely appear. YOU go find Mauritius, then.

create your own visited countries map
or vertaling Duits Nederlands

Nothing Like a Good Tagging...

2006-03-06T18:48:00.000+02:00

...that's what I say...

Four jobs I've had:
Soil Scientist
Agricultural Training Officer
Organisational Development Manager
Regional Human Resources Manager

Four movies I can watch over and over:
Love, Actually
Remains of the Day
The Quiet American
Lesbian Spank Inferno

Four places I've lived:
Buckley, Wales
Johannesburg, South Africa
Jwaneng, Botswana
Chiredzi, Zimbabwe

Four TV shows I love:
I really don't watch much TV any more. Sorry.

Four highly-touted TV shows I detest:
Anything with 'Survivor' in the title. Sorry. But see above re. TV

Four books I'd recommend to anyone, anytime:
Shadow of the Wind
Trinity
Animal farm
Brideshead Revisited

Four places I've vacationed
Alicante, Spain
London, England
Cape Town, South Africa
Chimanimani, Zimbabwe

Four of my favorite dishes:
Steak, egg and chips
A good lasange
Crocodile, no, really. Think fish-flavoured pork.
Tilipia; South Indian (but mild, please.)

Four sites I visit (almost) daily:
BBC News
Some blogs (like Badgers)
The Onion
SA Weather

Four places I would rather be right now:
Lambert's Bay
Hout Bay
Oslo
London

'The Hay Wain' by John Constable

2006-02-17T23:59:00.000+02:00

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A Singular Moment

2006-02-17T23:48:00.000+02:00

I saw you pale blue dreaming
In curtain-crack light,
and in yesterday’s sunset
as mists blew in and away.
And my gray lifted; some semblance of calm
amidst these endless gales.
that parch throat and water eyes.

Were you peaceful, then?
Are you quieter now?
That sand that remained in tidal pools-that grit that tore
Away your skin and rubbed me less raw--
such is our way for this peculiar present
where no news intrudes.
Here--here! is chance to reflect.

To hear yourself.
To listen to stories, to know this.
complete with images to savour; echelons of black
birds sharp, whites of spray, red pinpricks, momentary salvations.
And for me, the when and where to find clearer skies,
Of how to say goodbye and how to return,
Here.

2006-02-15T09:42:00.000+02:00

Scenes from the Asylum

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Hello? Hello?

2006-02-15T09:38:00.000+02:00

....is that the NRA? Yeah, I'm looking for some, well, lessons.
Yeah, hi! Dick here....listen...

My Eyes Have Seen the Glory

2006-02-13T15:02:00.000+02:00

circa. 11am, Saturday, 11th February, 2006, National Gallery, London, UK

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A BadgerSnag

2006-01-25T17:08:00.000+02:00

1.When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?

“Damn, I could fancy you.”

2. How much cash do you have on you?

Depends on the currency. Local? R35.

3. What's a word that rhymes with TEST?

inCEST.

4. Planet?

Dammit.

5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list?

‘Unknown’

6. What is your favorite ring on your phone?

“Tubular bells”

7. What shirt are you wearing?

Khaki button-down.

8. What do you label yourself?

‘Tart'

9. Name the brand of shoes you've recently worn.

Shoes have brands?

10. Bright or Dark Room?

Dark.

11. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Pining.

12. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?

“Yeah, I already said I would.”

13. Where is your nearest 7-11?

Cape Town.

14. What's a saying that you say a lot?

“Such is life”

15.Who told you they loved you last?

She did.

16. Last furry thing you touched?

Pass.

17. How Many Drugs Have You Done In The Past three Days?

Of necessity or pleasure?

18. How many rolls of film do you need to get developed?

Film? FILM? Wot’s that?

19. Favorite age you have been so far?

6 months.

20. Your worst enemy?

Sloth.

21. What is your current desktop picture?

Cape Point.

22. What was the last thing you said to someone?

“No, the GREEN one!”

23. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly, which would you choose?

Show me the MONEY!

24. Do you like someone?

No. I despise and detest all mankind.

25. The last song you listened to?

‘Let me Go’, Three Doors Down.

'Sure, it's big enough....'

2006-01-24T15:26:00.000+02:00

....is apparently a line from 'Shrek'. So there.

Wither Zimbabwe?

2006-01-23T16:28:00.000+02:00

I just got back from a flying visit to Zimbabwe. Damn, it's a beautiful country. The people are wonderful, the countryside is lovely, but oh, dear. There's hardly any traffic on the roads; why? A chronic shortage of foreign currency to buy fuel; and to buy just about anything. Zimbabwe makes very little domestically except a few agricultural products; chiefly tobacco, and with everyone being noble and giving up--or trying to--hardly a money spinner for the future, not so? That's assuming of course there was an agricultural industry left. Which there isn't. My Favourite Antipodean advised me that in its prime there was 120 hectares of coffee plantation in the country. Now there is 6. And you realise how significant that is to me. Still, I managed to buy a little coffee at the airport. Divine.

But. I was, albeit briefly, a millionaire. I needed a little local currency, and got US$10 changed at the bank. At Z$99 000-00 to the greenback. It was a wodge of paper about 3" thick. Croesus! Still, at Z$19 000-00 for a bottle of Coke (yes, bottle. No cans there.) it didn't last too long. Even so, there are some wonderful wonderful times to be had. I, the Antipodean and the She of the Beautiful Mind stayed at the York Lodge in Harare. Beautiful, beautiful. Wonderful large rooms, fabulous decor, gorgeous gardens, quiet, and we had Kariba Bream for supper; not entirely dissimilar to trout. Salivatory.

BlueBoy has now finished his scholastic career and is off to seek fame, fortune, life, love and liberty in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland in a few weeks time. Let's be honest, he didn't enjoy school so much. As an parting shot in his yearbook, this was his quote.

'Sure, it might be big enough, but look at the location.'

Suitably cryptic, don't you think?

Dabblings

2006-01-21T20:25:00.000+02:00

She of the Beautiful Mind seeks to inspire me in my creative dabblings. To that end, she gave me 'The Ode Less Travelled.' by Stephen Fry, the British writer, playwright and actor. Wonderful book--more of a workbook. I'm now deeply immersed in the arcana of iambs, end-stopping, enjambments, pentameters, partial rhymes and so forth. One hopes that this might drastically improve the quality of even the rather meagre current output.
Still, I rather enjoyed this;

Here Now, this Present.

I saw you pale blue dreaming
In curtain-crack light,
and in yesterday’s sunset as mists blew in and away.
And my grays lifted; some semblance of calm amidst these endless gales.
Such as now catch the throat and water the eyes; forecasts of showers tomorrow.

Were you peaceful, then?
Are you quieter now?
That sand that you left in tidal pools-that grit that tore away
your skin and rubbed me less raw--
such is our way for this peculiar present
where no news intrudes.

Not my third wheel, not my odd number…
Here--here! is permission to reflect?

To hear yourself.
To listen to other stories.
To write this story.
Complete of my images to savour; echelons of black birds sharp, whites of spray, red pinpricks, momentary salvations.
And for me, the details of when and where to find clearer skies,
Of how to say goodbye and how to return,
Here.

Non-existent metre, puerile imagery and so forth, but perhaps something.
And all because I love her so.

The Dood II

2006-01-04T20:52:00.000+02:00

Wally's a father! We think two perhaps three little 'uns, chirping away. We'll try a sound bite...

A Blue Perspective on 2005

2005-12-28T20:49:00.000+02:00

Best Book ..........Constant Gardener
Best Movie ............King Arthur
Best Stage Production ........Miss Saigon
Best Wine ............Allesverloren Merlot ‘04
Best Coffee ..........Colombian
Personality of the Year .........Wally the Weaver
Best Business Trip ........Cairo
Worst Business Trip ..........Dakar
Best Trip ...............Cape Town
Most Tragic Event ........The Pakistani Earthquakes
Most Horrific ...........The London Bombings
Greatest Sadness ..............Mr. Badger
Most Admired Person ............Mrs. Badger
Biggest Cock-up ...........Katrina
Dickheads of the Year ...............Bob Mugabe & George W Bush
Puss of the Year .............Jacob Zuma
Best Time .......................September 21st
Worst ...............Late January
Seminal Event ....................The Underground Parking Incident
Greatest Regret ...............I didn’t do it sooner
Most perfect chord change .................50” into Said I Loved You (Michael Bolton)
Best Song ...............You and Me (Lifehouse)
Best Rock ..............I Like the Way (Body Rockers)
Biggest Annoyance .............Keeping dead flowers out of the pool
Biggest Disappointment ............Having to start the novel over again

Graffiti

2005-12-10T13:37:00.000+02:00

Save the whales. Collect the whole set.
A day without sunshine is like, night.
I feel like I'm diagonally parked in a parallel universe.
Depression is merely anger without the enthusiasm.
How many of you believe in psycho-kinesis? Raise my hand!
Ok, so what's the speed of dark?
Everyone has a photographic memory. Some just do not have film.
How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?
Eagles may soar, but weasels do not get sucked into jet engines.
Inside every older person is a younger person wondering, ‘What the fuck happened there?’
If the world did not suck, we’d all fall off.

Ms Weaver a.k.a Wilma

2005-11-26T11:31:00.000+02:00

Here she is. A little dowdy, a Mrs Thatcher to Wally's Pierce Brosnan, but she sure as hell lights his candle...

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Dood!

2005-11-26T11:27:00.000+02:00

Wal is a dude. He’s the man. But, he’s a little over-invested in this building business. At last count he’s constructed five apartments (sorry, nests) of which two have been rubbished, one’s currently unoccupied and two inhabited by the fractious dames I mentioned earlier. But I think he’s up for it. Our boy is something of a peacock too. This is the kind of guy who’s going to drive around the ‘burbs in a convertible Saab, or quite possibly an Aston Martin, Wayfarers perched on his beak, feathers rippling in the wind. Cherchez les femmes, and all that.
Wally wears Boss.
So he’s got all the stuff. Having said that, I’m not so sure of his prowess as a lover. He is most definitely not going to woo anybody. To be frank, he’s a tad over-anxious; with all his attributes there should be a whole flock of eager young things queuing up for his attentions. But no. A few days ago, it was abundantly obvious that the sap had risen, and one of the girls was obliging. So he shook what his momma gave him, fluffed out his tail feathers and got frisky.
And fell off.
I kid you not. The little bugger was in the zone, hammering away like a woodpecker (who are notorious in the bird world as adopting a kind of avian ‘wham-bang-thank-you-mam’ tactic to the delicate art of love) and plop. All fall down.
He—and she for that matter—fell off their perch and disappeared in either shame, embarrassment (or both) into the undergrowth. Who wouldn’t? Thankfully, that’s one faux pas that’s eluded me. So far.
I laughed like a drain. Who wouldn’t?

Spottedbacked Weaver (Ploceus cucullatus)

2005-11-23T21:31:00.000+02:00

Wally--or 'Wal' to his mates--is a Weaver Bird. The, er, hive-lookin' thing is his nest. He's a noisy little git, probably accentuated by the fact that he's currently got two females occupying the two nests in the pics, and spends not a small amount of time keeping them in order.(the females, not the nests...) And getting a tiny bit ratty with other males trying to muscle in on the dames.The fact that he's built a third seems to suggest that he's either a real estate developer, hoping for a third chum (go Wally!)or taking over the neighbourhood. He seems to have fairly firm ideas about which female should occupy which nest. Today, the dames are quite literally feathering their nests.
Amusingly enough, the males build the nest on spec. as it were; the females check them out. If acceptable they'll move in, if not they pull the nest to pieces and he's left devasted, alone and forlorn. One hopes Wally is somewhat philosophical about that.
As you might well have guessed by now, the Story of Wally (and his kind) is replete with all manner of what-passes-for Blue witticisms about interior decorating, the construction industry, and the nesting habits of females. Which for the time being (and in the name of self-preservation) I'll forgo. But you can just imagine.

Here's Wally!

2005-11-21T13:15:00.000+02:00

Here he is--bottom right.

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Who would have guessed?

2005-11-20T15:52:00.001+02:00

Woe is me. OK, I fiddled the Python thing a tiny bit. This, no.
Again, all praise to Badger.

The Movie Of Your Life Is A Black Comedy

In your life, things are so twisted that you just have to laugh.You may end up insane, but you'll have fun on the way to the asylum.
Your best movie matches: Being John Malkovich, The Royal Tenenbaums, American Psycho

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

Wally's Place

2005-11-16T13:23:00.001+02:00

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Say 'Hi' to Wally, everyone...

2005-11-16T13:23:00.000+02:00

Wally's neighbourhood...
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The Only Quiz You'll Ever need

2005-11-14T13:07:00.000+02:00

You are a cardinal! You love to try & get others
into trouble, even if you have to make up
lies...NO ONE expects the Spanish Inquisition!

What Monty Python Sketch Character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Carolina in my Mind

2005-11-08T12:20:00.000+02:00

....I'm already gone....
And if that's a shade too cryptic....

According to energy fiend, (bit morbid, but thanks Badger) it would take the following to do me in;

cans of vanilla Coke 362
cans of Red Bull 154

and, sadly;
mugs of filter coffee 115

No mention made of over what time frame. Thank heavens.
If however it's over say the last week, I'm already gone--at least on the coffee front.
Goodbye then, and thanks for all the fish.

2005-10-30T22:50:00.000+02:00

Nuff said #2

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2005-10-30T22:49:00.000+02:00

Nuf said

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Pretenses

2005-10-30T20:20:00.000+02:00

So I will sleep now,
and not rest. Wither and
not die. Drive and fail
to arrive. Go out and
come in.

So, I have just this. A pretense of optimism.

And that question remains…
Of how to say goodbye and how to return,
Here.

I'll Be Over You

2005-10-20T20:51:00.000+02:00

In keeping with the stuff below....one of the best ever love songs

Some people live their dreams
Some people close their eyes
Some people’s destiny
Passes by

There are no guarantees
There are no alibis
That’s how our love must be
Don’t ask why...

'Who, me?' Redux

2005-10-16T19:49:00.000+02:00

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Who, me?

2005-10-16T19:47:00.000+02:00

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

I Really Should Have Become A Hairstylist

2005-10-13T20:52:00.000+02:00

...or something.
I work (insert sardonic chuckle here) in'Human Resources'.
I have come to the inescapable conclusion that it could be... well, if not fun then at least tolerable if it wasn't for the bloody HUMANS.
(you two are of course excluded)

A Riot of Colour

2005-10-13T20:13:00.000+02:00

The jacaranda trees are supposed to have been imported from the Andes. They do brighten up what is really just a fairly grubby mining town. And as I write, I can just hear the rumble of thunder; the first storm of this season. It's been dry as a bone for 5 months--yup, it's just started to rain. Wish you were here.

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Spring in Jo'burg

2005-10-13T20:12:00.000+02:00

Alright..late spring. Jo'burg and Pretoria are beautiful at this time of year. Not the best shot ever but you get the idea.

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Tragedy and Beauty--Goree Island, Dakar

2005-10-09T08:21:00.000+02:00

Ile Goree, the departure point for hundreds of thousands of West African slaves to the Americas

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Place d'Independance, Dakar

2005-10-09T08:20:00.001+02:00

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French Colonial Architecture, Dakar, Senegal

2005-10-09T08:20:00.000+02:00

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A Few Sevens

2005-09-30T13:15:00.000+02:00

Seven Things I Plan to Do Before I Die:
· visit Antarctica
· publish at least two novels
· visit the battlefields of Northern France
· make a few more people happy
· buy a cottage on the South African West Coast
· get a good night’s sleep
· visit the Scottish Islands

Seven Things I Can Do:
· lose the plot
· fly
· piss people off without meaning to.
· recite the name of the longest place name in the UK
· drive a motor bike at more than 100mph
· cycle more than 70 miles
· tell a good joke

Seven Things I Can't Do:
· accounts
· get comfortable
· read Harry Potter
· stay up late
· help it
· tolerate arrogance
· play an instrument

Seven Things I Find Attractive in a Person:
· intelligence
· sense of humour
· perspective
· logic
· eyes
· hair
· physique

Seven Things I Say Most Often:
· Bugger.
· I’ve no idea.
· Look at THAT!
· Ye gods!
· You didn’t have to say that, did you?
· I promise you I wasn’t looking!
· You’re always right, dear.

Pablo Neruda & The Star

2005-09-28T17:58:00.000+02:00

-- I've been doing a little research on the Spanish Civil War; not much you understand, just sufficient to give some context to a fictious meeting. Perhaps the most famous of all war photographs, by Robert Capa, was taken during that conflict, and Picasso himself was moved to paint that peculiar horror.
Pablo Neruda wrote on the conflict, but I was surprised to find--with a big push from a dear friend and colleague--that he also wrote the most tender love poems. Try this. Beautiful.

-- Sometimes one finds gems in the most unexpected places... In today's 'Star' newspaper, the following;

'The great personal battles are always fought alone. Not in front of an audience of well-meaning advisors, friends or family. They are fought in the deafening darkness of starless nights, when even the moon is covered by stormy weather. So be constantly prepared to face your isolation with resolute independence.'

Mattias Hau

Straight penguins

2005-09-27T18:26:00.000+02:00

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A Sense of Deja Moo

2005-09-19T08:41:00.000+02:00

..the sense that you've heard all this bullshit before...

Katrina

2005-09-06T08:45:00.000+02:00

The analysis, the outrage, the disgust, the recriminations will continue for months, years even. Just to add to the background noise, a few comments from this neck of the woods;

Last Wednesday, from BlueBoy; "If it (Katrina) has to happen, then it's best that it happens in the States--at least they've got the ability to handle it. Not like Bangladesh or somewhere."
You would have thought so, right?

Today, from BlueBuddy Paul; "This is not the America we know....and love."

Amen.

A Really Awful Day

2005-08-31T16:37:00.000+02:00

Absolutely the saddest story. Spare a tear for Badger and BadgerBoy.

http://badbadbadger.blogspot.com/