Carl

Bloody Gallery

Just shifted the e-gallery to yet another script, the one that was embedded in this appeared to have a bug and I’m just not in the mood to hunt it down so sod it – install a stable thing.

Adios
Carl

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These Things Happen

My eldest had her car lifted from her driveway (everyone has their suspicions as to who did it) last week, she got it back the other day minus the 19″ wheels and CD system. Continue reading

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What A Day

It starts off fairly decent, bitta fog n cool, then all of a sudden in comes the humidity – was so thick you could all but suck it through a straw grrrrrrrr. Oh well it’s raining (sorta) now and they’ve predicted storms so we can only hope. Continue reading

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RIP Billy Thorpe

Sad news, the passing of one of rocks greatest. Billy died from a massive heart attack today 28th Feb. Another great for that rock n roll band in Heaven.

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Well There’s A Few More

Added a few more photos to the gallery, one’s I’d found hiding in a folder on the ‘F’ drive. Anyway, what happened today? Well I managed to finish Dylan’s bike and started to weld up the few rust spots on the Rodeo. . . Personally I shouldn’t attempt to weld car steel, I tend to make the holes bigger but I spose I gotta learn, I did manage to get some nice welds on the windscreen pillar from where I ripped the aerial off – I bloody hate them aerials.

What else – oh cleaned me shed and got a fright when ‘er indoors was feedin the birds in the aviaries – she’s like ooh expletive the birds got out (rainbow lorikeets) so I jog out to have a look n all it was, was three natives hangin round the aviary, all ours were counted for BUT about arf hour later she says one of the Kakariki got out which it had the bugger.

Took like an hour of coaxing to get the sod back in the aviary but he won’t leave coz the hen was still in there. we ended up partitioning the aviary and left the door open and he flew in, dozy sod.

Apart from that, we’ve got a touch of rain here and it’s cooler which is good and on that note I’m off to play the HexBox

Adios
Carl

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The Obligatory Christmas Story

As is my want, it’s time for the Christmas story – the same Christmas story that I post every year but is relevant today as it was two years ago.

A twelve inch plastic tree pressed firmly into an old chipped cooking pot blinked forlornly, highlighting the neatly wrapped presents that lay around it. Presents for his two sons and daughter, presents that each year increased the pile. Sitting at his table, he stared at his meagre Christmas fair – the roast chicken with boiled and roasted potatoes, sprouts, peas, beans and Yorkshire pudding all covered in gravy and mint sauce.

A bottle of cider (non alcoholic, he hadn’t touched alcohol for years) fizzed and popped as he poured it into his glass. Bowing his head, hands clasped he muttered a prayer of thanks and hope but deep down he knew his hopes would once again be dashed – slowly he began to eat.

His meal finished, he popped the single cracker, its bang echoing throughout his two room flat. The hat and toy landed on the floor where they would stay untouched until the time came to clear the table ‘tomorrow’ he muttered.
Making his way to the pile of presents he rubbed them gently, disturbing the dust from those that lay near the bottom of the pile – then standing he walked out the door.
A light drizzle touched his face as his feet shuffled along the cracking pavement. Crossing the road he pushed the park gates open and walked across the grass to the bench under the old oak tree.
Sitting down he hitched his jacket up and forced his hands into his pockets for warmth. Giggling gleeful children rode new bikes and skateboards across his vision; slowly he pulled a fading and cracked photograph and cradled it as one does a new born baby.
Darkness began to slip into his Christmas day – house lights opposite the park now illuminating his life – one in particular, but try as he might he just couldn’t see through the window, then as if snuffing out a candle the curtains were drawn and the light along with his hopes vanished.
The walk back to his flat seemed to take longer every year, but with each step came a twinge of hope – a hope that maybe next year he would see his children on Christmas day, the children he hadn’t seen on that day for three years – oh how he’d exchange all his visitation rights for just one Christmas morning.

Fanciful fiction? Maybe but then again maybe not.

How many fathers are there on this planet who work day in and day out, to pay child support but because of a lop-sided legal system miss out on watching their children tear frantically at Christmas wrapping paper, their eyes bulging at the sight of the many and varied presents that lay in front of them?
Granted there are some fathers that should only get supervised visits – damn some should be supervised by an armed security guard but they’re in the minority. What of the majority?
Where this came from is beyond me – maybe Christmas and the fact it’s become nothing more than another Hallmark day with a TV full of pathetic soft porn American comedies is sending me off on the sadness slide. As it happens, all my kids grew up with two parents – sheesh my youngest will be 23 on Boxing day so I can say I’m one of the lucky ones.
All the best for the season.
Carl

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Well One Can’t Complain I S’pose

After calling Mitsubishi, they weren’t terribly impressed with the techy mob that initially looked at the 19″ so it’s now been shipped off to another mob (was picked up last Friday). I guess I’ll be stuck on the 17″ for a while, hopefully I get the 19″ back before Christmas but I’m not holding my breath.

Cheers
Carl

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