New users: Please register in the usual way and then send an email to jasper(at)jasperfforde.com with your username, and write something 'Ffordesque' so we know you are a real reader, and not some idiot trying to flood the forum with dodgy Nike and Gucci gear. Thank you - Jasper
Perhaps if we all think evel, and also evil*, thoughts towards the spammers/intruders at midnight GMT/UT of the 30th April we can destroy these parasites in their nest. Anyone sending them 45kilograms of TNT will assist the cause.
Be Happy, and curse the bastards.
*correction supplied as part of the surplus words situation now evident at this location due to dropping a thesaurus and the contents falling out/realigning/overflowing their container/escaping the bounds of their reality/ or such.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 04/27/2009 02:35PM by bunyip.
I'd just like to point out to any minors ('Minors, not miners!') reading this board that cursing is not acceptable behaviour in modern society but if it must be done then Bunyip is a recommended target. Also, try to eat your five fruit and vegetable portions a day.
I can remember when I first learned how to wink. I thought it was quite an accomplishment (I was never a fast learner at anything) and was very proud of myself. These days, people mutter "dirty old man" when I do it - how times change.
My father used to tell the story of when he was a lad, going around with his mates and a sugar-bag for the collection of what we might delicately call canine pure. They got a shilling a bag from the tannery (at Mascot, in Sydney) if it was of the mature, well-aged variety. We're talking about the 1920's and a shilling was a fortune even when shared between a few lads.
The substance was (and is?) a key element of the leather tanning process. Any unseasoned visitors walking around the neighbourhood had about 30 seconds to run past the tannery before their central nervous systems collapsed from the smells it exuded. This was even in my time - I can still feel the electric jolt that shook my whole frame the first time I got a whiff of it, and my father's laughter.
My grandfather worked at the tannery for most of his life and I remember that his skin was so tanned (permanently, from the work he did, not from the sun) that for many years I grew up thinking that I was part Aboriginal. I remember being most disillusioned when this aspect of my cultural heritage - as I imagined it - was explained away.