Saturday, December 19, 2020

Who is this handsome man?

 ID him please if you know.

Friday, December 18, 2020

Our First Dog

Our first dog was nearly all black white a little white and of small to medium stature. Toby came from an animal shelter in the outer suburb of Kilsyth. I am not sure I could point to it on a map, but kind of north east from here I think.

Toby was the brightest, most out going and friendly pup of a litter, so we chose him. When Mother chose her last dog she chose the shyest and least outgoing dog. If you want a faithful and non distracted dog, Mother was right. 

With an not so auspicious start when he was sick in the car on the way home from the shelter, he quickly learnt toilet training and a couple of weeks later the only time he had accidents was if we gave him a large bone, and these was only pickup accidents, not mop up.

Without a paternal role model, he used to squat down to pee. Somehow along the way marking instinct must have kicked in and he started to lift his leg, though he was already desexed when we picked him up, or maybe we were given a voucher to have him fixed ourselves. I think voucher is correct. Never mind. He never had a sex life.

He had a voracious appetite and for some of  Toby's life R owned a cafe and Toby dined on left overs as well as normal food and became rather fat. R sold the business so no more two sandwiches and a meat pie extras for Toby and he slimmed down again. 

He loved to run, to jump, to swim and to chase and fetch balls. Some dogs like to return with the ball and then have you get it from them. Not so Toby. He dropped the ball straight away, ready for another run.

He travelled with us within the state and either a friend or family stayed at our place or he went to someone's else's house to be looked after when we travelled.

I suppose it was in the mid nineties when his claws had collapsed, his hearing and eyesight had gone and I suppose he had arthritis and had began staggering as he walked. We loaded him into the Super Snipe and took him for his last walk in the park. He sniffed various smells of interest a little as he wobbled around and then we took him on his final car trip, to the vets to be put down. We stayed with him as we bawled out eyes out and he relaxed to limpness as we held him. The vet was wonderfully sympathetic and two days later a bunch of flowers was delivered to us from the practice.

He was still a gangly pup here. This was his chair. If we wanted to exercise control over him, we would order him with the command 'chair' and he would obediently jump up. When we had the chair with his greasy stains on the seating cushion re-upholstered with a cream fabric, his new bed became a wicker basket with bedding on the floor and the command became 'basket'. But when we went to bed, he would be straight up on the chair. If he heard us get up, of course we would only ever see him lying in his basket peering innocently up at us. The evidence of black hair on the chair told the true story. 

He wasn't particularly interested in other dogs and was quite obedient until he was out off leash somewhere and I think he had early age hearing problems He would often not hear us call him.

Aside from kennel cough that developed soon after we brought him home from the shelter he was never really unwell.

He loved to jump for the ball but dogs jumping high is not good for their long term well being.

With his mate Thomas, our other favourite of our five four footed pets. I can see we have painted the porch and the step but new floor covering and the new kitchen hadn't been installed yet.

I have one photo of our two dogs and two cats all cuddling around the space heater.

This is a bit late being published today. I became a bit emotional when writing most of it last night.

Thursday, December 17, 2020

This is getting rather pointed

Wow, there has been an escalation. Just click on this link and you will remember me a week or so writing about our former friend. 

Since then I received an FB messege from him. 


if you guys are not talking to me that's ok don't reply

Thank you"

I wrote a reply telling him that he dumped us, explaining in detail as we remember it at the time. It was quite long and I felt better after writing it, but I did not send it. There is no going back and I refuse to entertain him.

Then Friday we received a Christmas card from him. So  nice of Hindus to pander to white culture. So he did keep his partner's, our late friend's mail address list.

Then to our mutual friend, someone who he doesn't really like either, he emailed this below with "Can you pass this on to Andrew and R".  Our quite elderly 'friend' who lives in a place with curious name of Wang is something is a great gossiper, nothing wrong with that one says in self defence, and also a stirrer and he loves fallings out among people, so without asking for any additional information, he forwarded as he was asked. I hope he doesn't expect a reply either.

The stakes rose yesterday with this posted after one of his countrymen also in Australia who I communicate with nearly every day celebrated his birthday and I wished him on FB happy birthday. The same day it was also the aforementioned birthday and of course we did not wish him a happy birthday. Mid afternoon he posted this, and below is the killer comment he made in reply to someone. Yeah, that would be us he is referring to. We will just continue to ignore his antics. 

That’s so true, it’s happening to me right here in Melbourne. People I have known and done things for 20 plus years treated me like this . It’s very sad . They say it’s so un Australian, yeh right . What’s Australian? I ask the question to these bastards.

Wednesday, December 16, 2020

He has a few bob

It is said Faiq Bokiah is the richest football (soccer) player in the world and at only 22 years old and worth it is suggested US$20 billion. His wealth does not come from his football skills but inherited wealth. So who is he? His father is the brother of the Muslim Sultan of Brunei, the enactor of Sharia Law and the homophobic absolute monarch of the Kingdom of Brunei and who condemned gay men to death. We had booked a flight on the country's Royal Brunei Airlines and cancelled our flights as this since suspended law was enacted, at a cost to us of around $400. If you really want to make a point, put your money where your mouth is, and we did. And for goodness sake, you can't even get a drink in the Sultanate of Brunei. 

Faiq is dual citizen of Brunei and the US. 

Doesn't it go without saying that Faiq's father, the Sultan of Brunei's brother, was known as a notorious womaniser. For his 50th birthday Faiq's father flew in Michael Jackson to perform for a payment of GB£12.5 million. He has owned something like 2,300 cars, including the best in the world. 

In 2018 Faiq was playing for the English team Leicester. I think he is playing for a European team now. At such a young age he has married three times and divorced two wives (exhaustion?) (incompatible with a sporting type who needs energy?).

I am not sure why I wrote this post really. Well, maybe to highlight the extreme wealth of the Sultan of Brunei who it could be seen as he didn't make his wealth from alcohol, cigarettes or gambling, but the lesser of evils, oil. Or perhaps that young Faiq is not bad looking and I can put up gratuitous photos of him.

Non conspicuous travelling in Brunei. 

Tuesday, December 15, 2020

No Down Under on the Flat Earth

I think the real loser from this nonsense is AAP, Australia Associated Press, just AP in other parts of the world. Why would AAP bother fact checking such rubbish? Just skim read. It is not worthy of proper attention, except for learning the Flat Earth Society being alive and well.


I have no problem with gay outing hypocrites. When they speak and or act badly towards gay people, they have given away their right to privacy about their gay sexual activity I think they should otherwise have.

I wonder if this #45 supporting New York City Catholic Priest deserved  being outed for watching gay porn. You betcha.

I don't know why Hungary seems to be such prone. Have a look back a few years to Hungarian politician András Királywas who I wrote about, and then there is this much newer József Szájer.

Monday, December 14, 2020

Wasted journey

I went to the other side of town today but not far out, to Footscray in fact. I was going to buy something but I was thwarted by a bad driver. 

I left the train in Footscray and electronic ticket gates were wide open and the card readers were dead. The lift wasn't working either. Instead of using the stairs I thought the ramp would be easier. It wasn't as it was such a gentle slope, it made it a very long distance.

Not that it needed it but there wasn't any lighting either. I decended the steps on the far side of the station as nor was that lift or escalator working. The station was obviously blacked out.

The traffic lights weren't working either and police were directing traffic, which is always a nuisance as drivers are always so slow and hesitant when police are directing. The lighting was out in shops as I walked past. It looked like a total blackout. I was going to buy my hit of heroin something for $180 and I doubted the EFTPOS machine would be working. One bank ATM wasn't working and the bank was shut too. 

I went to my usual dealer  cafe for coffee and of course there wasn't power to make coffee or even an iced coffee. I tried an iced Vietnamese coffee and although sweeter than I am used to, it was icy cold and refreshing in the 33 degree heat. I could pay with EFTPOS and I worked out later it was because it was a cordless machine which I guess used the phone 4G system.

I checked another bank ATM and it too had closed down. Well, I hope the place where I am going has a cordless EFTPOS machine. It didn't and nothing could be done, so it was a wasted journey. By the look of the town clock near the mall, the blackout began forty minutes earlier. 

I was going to take a Town Hall photo for tomorrow's Town Hall Tuesday but I was becoming very hot and bothered. I headed back to the station and meanwhile police had taped around a power pole, so I had to cross the road from the far side of the station. Of course still nothing was working including train information boards. Fortunately staff were outside directing passengers and also fortunately I was directed to Platform 1 and did not have to climb and descend stairs. The train was the busiest I have been on since lockdown ended and generally this side of town people do follow the rule on public transport and wear a mask, however, mostly young people, about one third weren't masked. 

It seems, although hard to ascertain, that a car hit a power pole and did some damage. Well, a wasted trip in the heat, but at least the trains were cool.

Monday Mural and Monday Medical

Joining with Sami and others for Monday Mural. 

You would barely have known I was MIA as I underwent four hours of keyhole heart surgery at 5.30pm Friday after being at hospital from 1.30pm and then I had to lie flat until 12.30am with a tight belt around me as a weight pressed down on my groin wound. It was planned well in advance and I just had to endure the procedure, and I can't say it was pleasant. 

I was using my phone to reply to blog posts while I waited and waited and sorry, there were some auto correct issues that passed by the keeper.

I was discharged the next day, Saturday and while it is usually rather hard to slip this word into a post, I was thoroughly discombobulated. I had only managed two hours sleep. 

If you have surgery to your heart going in via the femoral artery in your groin, do not expect any modesty about hiding your bits. Doctors and nurses will see it all and there will be unavoidable contact, and even with my large but non responsive equipment, none batted an eyelid as they fiddled away you know where. 

How successful will the procedure be, I asked my cardiologist. As  I feared, he replied we will only know if you don't have another atrial fibrillation attack, that could cause a stroke or serious damage your heart. Great!

I was in a private room in a new wing of St Francis Xavier Cabrini Hospital and the room was like a quite posh hotel room. Of course it is a Catholic hospital but its major benefactors and many surgeons are now Jewish, as was mine. This thing guarding over me malevolently looking down upon me creeped me out. While I only had breakfast, the coffee was in a china cup and rather good.

In other news after Mother taking a chunk out of her leg and needing twenty stiches is back in hospital for a couple of days after an infection set in. 

It is a very modest a but this is quite a sweet little mural this week. 

Illuminated mirror in the ensuite. 

The door is to the right of the curtain and to the left is a frosted glass panel that with the click of a switch turns into clear glass.

Sunday, December 13, 2020

Sunday Selections

Joining in with Elephant's Child and others for Sunday Selections with a little South Melbourne saunter as I waited for R while he was in his doctor's surgery. If you write posts vaguely like this one, you have my admiration. The time spent on research is immense and perhaps the details are not really needed.

Do you remember this mural? I took a closer look for a name and found none, but what I did find is that it is not really a painted mural, but pieces of steel rivetted on to a sheet of steel. 

Single and two storey terrace houses abound in the older areas of South Melbourne, once known as Emerald Hill.

There were probably just as many pubs as terrace houses. Many have been repurposed now and some are quite upmarket, suiting the demographics of the area. I guess not The George though. Wrong, The George looks quite good.

This building with the name Courier Office took some finding out about but City of Port Phillip saved the day. It was built in 1882 and was home of South Melbourne's longest running local newspaper The Record (1868-1976) but the newspaper, while keeping its name, was taken over by its rival The Courier.

Another great use for a one time Baptist church, as a carpet shop.

"Friendly 1875 Societies (medicine) Dispensary" with alongside Saddle & Harness Maker, apparently all once a builder's premises, a butter and egg merchant and then the saddlery. It looks like a cafe now.

And the excellent historic but not historic building, South Melbourne Market. It's the glue that keeps the busyness on the streets. Nowadays we only visit for fresh flowers and the famous South Melbourne Dim Sims. The woman who is featured on the page has been there for a very long time, possibly the  four decades since we first savoured dim sims from there. Her father or father in law was the one who set up the Melbourne dim sim manufacturing and the store some fifty years ago.