devil-2 BOPespecially not on their income …

Let me explain: when ‘Dilmah’ tea first hit our shelves it was introduced with a fanfare of TV commercials. We tried it and were hooked. Spouse went loose leaf, I opted teabag.

Flash forward to now.

I’ve given up their teabags but we both still brew. However—Spouse pointed out that not only Dilmah, all the brands we tried no longer have loose leaf tea. True! It’s labelled as such but what used to be loose-leaf is now effectively powder. Yep. Almost dust.

How ’bout that? Regardless of however much ‘quality’ documentation anyone can provide to ‘assure’ me I’m wrong, the product, as packaged & labelled, just isn’t the same: leaf has become powder.


subjective. But if Quality means meeting the expectations of the Customer … these products are no longer quality. Dust is not ‘loose leaf’.

So I switched brands.

Spouse remains faithful to her Dilmah “loose leaf” even though (after brewing and straining) her emptied cups have a film of blackish residue inside. Yeuch.


of our times that many products follow a similar course. They burst onto the scene but once people develop a habit the quality quietly falls away and no-one notices.

Except me …

chimp rocks

“Crack, damn you! Stupid nut!”



and/or the envious.


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—I actually like having a big

land filled with colourful characters just across the ditch from us. Sure, they do have some original ideas of their own—that kangaroo hoppity thing would be hard to beat—but WE have a flightless bird with a long nose and hairy feathers


—and WE don’t have to worry about all those minerals, snakes, crocodiles, spiders and stuff. We just content ourselves with being the world’s best and having the world’s very best beer … (but don’t tell them Aussies that—they get a bit scratchy about their stuff) (even if they sometimes can’t spell beer and have to label it XXXX).

Okaaaayyy … so it’s a big place… but can they poke their nose under a log to sniff out lunch? WE can! Yay!

Beaks rule!

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we’re THE world-beaters at modesty (and humility)!



1st OFF, let’s open with a question:


pc, notbefore the dread ‘plastic bag’?

Hey … I remember paper bags.

And unprinted newsprint wrappers … with sometimes waxed paper liners; and no kerfuffle about saving the planet.

I also remember leaning against the guardrails watching the sea rush by with oodles of assorted floating rubbishes. Hundreds of miles out, back in the sixties, seventies. Move along, please, move along; nothing new here …


issue. For some.

For me, I merely anticipate the next major war wherein I shall serve only as an extra, a spectating pawn waaaaayyy out on the sidelines … but anyone civically minded had then damned well better watch out for pollution on an undreamt of Grand Scale. Just one brief morning of wild enthusiasm will reverse the course of years and years of self-denial using plakkie-baggie substitutes. No?

Oh yes …

Now here’s your quote—

“If a plastic bag is reused three times, for example being used twice in the supermarket and then as a bin liner, the cotton bag has to be used almost 400 times to have lower global warming potential than plastic.

This is because of the amount of energy and use of non-renewable resources it takes to extract cotton, make the bags and then ship them…”


So? So if you are a voter, and at all overly concerned …

… go vote for somebody—

chimp rocks

—anybody!  It doesn’t matter a damn whom,

politicians are fungible

Now go recycle something, a politician perhaps …

… and the beat goes on, the beat goes onnnnnnn …


down eyeface   MORE~!

Just had a call from my sister advising that there’s yet another spam-scam doing the rounds. This time with a service provider that I deal with. Been there, done that—nice, but whereas the advice usually given is to hang up on the buggers I like to draw them out, drag them in, and keep them chatting for as long as inhumanly possible—in the first place it’s fun for me; in the second it’s saving some possibly more naive person from scam-attack … and most importantly, the bastard in India (going by the accent) eventually gets more and more annoyed as it gradually begins to dawn that he is being … scammed. (I love being hung up on by an indignant spammer innocently going about his task.)

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In the meantime, here’s a totally unrelated link that reminds Spouse and moiself of various Midsomer Murder movies we’ve seen: — and for me, of chilling things I too have done in the past … brrrrr~!



Death chattering



(wait for it~!)


Screen Shot 2019-06-09 at 18.10.05 I’m a Leo.

Whenever I read the guff about us Leos I get a swollen head and mutter modest things like “Awwww, shucks” and stuff. You know how it is (you would if you were a Leo).

Then tonight something led me back to the Chinese Zodiac, wherein I vaguely remember that I’m a Dog. (It suits; but what exactly is a Zodiacal Dog, hmmm?). So  below please find:




Loyal, keen, creative, patient

Most Dog people are born theoreticians which mean that they seldom apply the theory into practice throughout daily life. Although they have wonderful ideas and good proposals, they lack practical experience. Consequently if they can meet a nice and intelligent leader, they can make full use of their advantages. They are loyal to their jobs and no matter how many troubles they meet, most of them won’t give up easily. They can always complete work tasks within the required time. Bosses can trust them and give them vital work to do. Thus generally speaking, they can get promotions and have stable incomes in early and middle ages.

 Best Jobs for Dog

Chinese zodiac Dog characteristics are honest, cheerful, candid and right-minded, so they can find satisfying jobs easily. During work, they prefer to solve problems in a simple and efficient way. They like doing competitive work because their outstanding abilities need to be aroused by difficulties.

Suitable Jobs: doctor, teacher, lawyer, writer, politician, judge, accountant, civil servant, programmer, or philosopher …

If I had but one half of a mere fraction of a chance for a replay I’d opt for Philosopher. Boom boom!

Given that the guff describes me much better than I’d ever describe myself (modesty is our major fault, dammit) I’ll just have to run with it …

Screen Shot 2019-06-16 at 20.34.00.png


hmmmm? Go read your stars as objectively as you can … and confess, do they actually fit? Can you bend ’em to fit?

Don’t fret—I’m still searching a meaning for that “allegiant” … perhaps us Dogs are a bit illiterate, and they tactfully left it out~?



they tell me.

selfieI wouldn’t know, too young to die. But I help maintain alacrity with coffee. The latte in our very most favouritest coffee joint in town is to die for, but let’s digress:

I recently (months ago now—but fits the bill) bought a gadget that looks like a plastic bike-pump gone different. (I also have french presses, percolators, a coffee maker machine, stove top things that originate in Italy, and when all else fails: instant) (brrrrr).


Now where were we? Oh yes … some history—on a car trip to the continent (early sixties) I was introduced to a huge bowl of milky coffee by a French sea captain who delighted in showing  his signed letter-of-thanks from Winston Churchill (for seamanship during D-Day and after.)(Letter was lovingly crinkled but the coffee to die for) …


Oh … yes, that gadget. Try this on for size—

—and try not to freak out in delight and nostalgia when she says—


“… take your plunger and insert it …”


—then get thee hence (and I think I can guess why comments were disabled for that video) (brrrrrrr~!). She demonstrates the ‘inverted’ method, it can also be done the other way …

BT smiling teethy grin

Anyone for Latte?



… wannabe wot?                                   dodo

You name it. But in this instance:  a wannabe humorist.

Style. Ya gotta have style. You know, a bit like a chimpanzee drawing a moustache on the Mona Lisa—

Screen Shot 2019-02-24 at 15.34.28.png

—and we come across it everywhere. I dare say that deep down in some unvisited caverns there are doubtlessly moustaches added to cave-art bisons—and why not? It’s a timeless thing.

Screen Shot 2019-02-24 at 23.35.24.png

Sometimes they may get it right. Other times they do little more than ‘come out’ as it were—unintentionally but emphatically demonstrating an almost hopeless inadequacy; desperation made manifest.

Or on occasion a genuine talent.


ya godda be subtle, especially in humour. Airborne custard pies may well be converging from every point of the compass but the guy in the background who slips on the banana while sneaking in for the classic ambush shot is the one who will score the laugh.


jaded. We’ve just watched a Midsomer Murders and both of us know the tune the lassie was teaching on the piano but neither of us can pin a name to it. This, indeed, is the exemplar of ultimate frustration; Tantalus be damned, we’re going gaga over it—

dum da da da da—da da da daaaaah; dum da daaah, da da daaah

—and any help you might give with it would be very gratefully accepted:

“Hey you! Broken nose—play the piano!”

“I ain’t got a broken nose!”


 plinkety plankety plonkety plunk …

a bigger