27 August 2007

diary

To Olde Sydney Towne with Chaste and Unsullied Airways, for to mixe with the great and gude of the reserche communitie and to discuss how to make moore of all thinges of natural provenance. And there was much slappinge of backs, and congratulations for the creation of a new Entitie. But also was there seemely strate questioning and plain spekinge, such as to make my poor head spinne.

Actually, the principal factor influencing the spinning was the substantial amount of alcohol imbibed the previous day and evening. However, a discreet veil is what we shall draw. I did manage to get some questions of my own in and caught up with everybody I needed to over morning tea (fruit! what a brilliant idea! and it went down a treat to my aching stomach) and lunch.

Sydney is already pissed off to the max over APEC. Two of the taxi drivers I had said they were going to take next week off, and one reported at least 6 drivers from his work doing similarly. A contact I was talking to at the workshop today told me about a wedding planned for next weekend in North Sydney (I think) that they don't know if they'll be able to hold if people can't get to it.


I can't see this doing the (insert obligatory reference) PM any good. In fact a rello whom I went to see, after stating that she was a life-long Liberal voter, reckoned she'd probably turn this time. It's the lies, you see.

Yes, we do.
And I was mightily amused to hear on radio that Laura Bush won't be coming. So the ladies lunch at the Bondi Icebergs will be minus the star attraction and Janette won't be able to be the perfect host to her husband's best, and possibly only, friend. Oh schadenfreude, in buckets. That's Hyacinth Bucket, of course. Can you imagine how livid she must be?
I was late getting down because Pure and Unsullied Airlines cancelled my flight. I had to go past the office to get some stuff and while in town I saw a young lady made up to look exactly like this person from a TV series.


Weird, man. What people will do. Makes change from Paris Hilton lookalikes, though.




Saw a couple of interesting cars. On New South Head Road, sunny Sunday Sydney afternoon, a couple jammed into a T-bucket, massive rear wheels, blower, the works. Rather like this one.

The cabbie and I had been having a grand conversation (Dick Cheney is evil, catch the drift?) when we came up behind this monster. I commented that it would good fun for such an afternoon but that the occupants were getting a bit shaken around, and he replied that all the potholes were same ones that were there 20 years ago, so the driver should have known where they were.

Then today, going through the Eastern Distributor tunnel in a rattly old cab I could hear this exhaust and other noise. Couldn't figure out what was causing it until we came out into the light a Mazda RX3 Savanna ranged up alongside - very snazzy, roll cage, massive wheels, the gauges on the bonnet, the tachos with sticking-out things and the unmistakable whine of a blower. It was shaking like crazy and very loud and my driver commented that it would be tiring to drive - after about 5 minutes I reckon. But he got in front of us and whenever he eased off the throttle there'd be a massive flame from the exhaust, same as for the V8 Supercars. Massive valve overlap? Again, takes all kinds.
What we discussed on Sunday night, I have no idea.

1 comment:

JahTeh said...

Things are bad in the White House if the 'trouble 'n strife' won't leave home with him. A pissed off Hyacinth wouldn't be pretty although she has a grandsprog now to mould to the ways of evil.

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