leading misanthropologist's reputation threatened

Walked for 2 and a half hours yesterday through the New South Caledonian forest with Dances Etc. and the dog. To the bottle shop and back. The return journey was harder, uphill and with a backpack full of bottles.

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Dances Etc. was in better form than for a long time, having recovered well from a break-up, a kneecap-shattering motorbike spill, and pouring boiling water on his head. Possibly this is the happiest/strongest I've seen him in 45 years, no doubt buoyed up by his visit last week to Albert in Australia.

Next week he goes to Scotland, so I'm wondering if I should put him on the mailing list for Duneditin.

I hardly believe I'm saying this, but his visit is the second I've enjoyed in the past few weeks. Having the outlaw couple here was a real joy too. Before now, I had only ever seen them in the company of their weans, harassed or distracted.

That's three visitors I've enjoyed this month. If this gets out I'll get the sack from the Misanthropology Faculty.

Dances Etc. is an endless source of interesting information. Like the fact that, Michael Jackson, who never complained when black militants vilified him for turning white, quietly donated huge sums to charities, some of them black. Over his career, he gave away $300 million to worthy causes.

Even more interestingly, Dances Etc. told me about the elephants who paint pictures of themselves. Here's just one of the videos:

trois têtes aujourd'hui

Têtes de félicité free-lance, plate et sourde, aujourd'hui en Île Plate, Nouvelle-Calédonie.

Les deux hommes sont garçons de la même école publique.

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Just for balance, these are normal classmates at a recent reunion. If you've never been to one, this might persuade you.

testing

Here is the news.

Item 1 - A distant relative is coming to stay for a whole month or more.

Item 2 - The Maisel's Weisse has successfully completed a battery of black-box tests, and now goes forward to the acceptance testing phase. Early results have been most encouraging, showing bliss levels almost off the scale.




I stumbled across this new wheat beer last weekend during a 4-hour harbour walk in the winter sunshine with the partner. The bottle shop had no Erdinger, and I couldn't remember whether I like Weihenstephaner, but then I noticed this Maisel stuff.

I told the guy behind the counter that if I liked it I'd be back. I asked what discount he could offer on a bulk buy. 10% on a six pack, and even more on a box! It's still three times the cost of New South Caledonian beer, but you can't put a price on happiness.

I've suggested to the partner that we do a repeat harbour walk this weekend. It shouldn't be hard to get her to park near the bottle shop, and I'll smuggle the box into the boot while she's not looking. What heights of bliss I'm going to achieve if I don't do my back in!

Item 3 - Dances With Men is back in the country and we may pick him up after the walk. Note to self - don't let him get a look in the boot.

i'm not a heidist but ...

I had to go to a birthday party at the end of last week. Four whole hours of my life wasted listening to a bunch of deifheids competing to show off their stories about themselves. First topic was how many numbers you got right in that week's jackpot lottery. Apparently one person won their stake back. Other themes included how much you paid in the sale for that bargain pair of trousers.

After a couple of hours of this, attention turned to food, and a pizza delivery menu was passed around so we could order by phone. Everyone got to choose what colour of food scraps they wanted sprinkled on their overpriced Italian toasted cheese. When the delivery man showed up an hour later, there was a whip-round among the guests to pay for it. The partner coughed up happily, but there was no way I was paying towards shite food I would only give to a dog.

I would cook something decent if and when we ever got home. Meanwhile, because I had agreed to drive home, I couldn't even numb the pain with a shandy!

The worst phrase you can hear at a birthday party is "you can't leave now - they haven't had the birthday cake yet, and the song." Sometimes I almost wish I was a blissheid on indefinite retreat.

My patience nearly blew when I realised I had a sick dog at home with pneumonia, while I was wasting my time among deifheids. Incidentally, I'm not a racist, but I did notice that several of the deifheids were Australian. If I hadn't had to consider the partner, I would have walked out and never gone back. I could have caught the next plane back to Scotland, where there are no deifheids and the conversation is sparkling and inclusive. And if you're lucky enough to end up at a conference, the catering is splendid.

knowing when to stop

I have always, well not always but for many years, prided myself on knowing when to stop.

Everyone knows that the first beer of the night is the best one, so I have always, well not always, been able to stop after one beer.

And it's the same with bonkage. The first bonk is always the best one, so why bother with another?

Tonight though, after downing a whole bottle of Paulaner, I immediately had the notion to go down to the cellar and open another two.

Obviously I didn't give in to the urge, but it was a near thing. Dearie me!