Archive for August, 2013

Not so Scary Now


Put on your ‘big-boy’ pants and deal with it

Finally, I put my big-boy pants on and went to tackle the evil monster that had befallen my kitchen and brought chaos.

Yes… I did the dishes.

Then, I hobbled off to work, with the full expectations that I would arrive there in one piece.

Yea tho’ I walk in the shadow of rush hour,
I will fear no evil, for the traffic lights are with me,
my walking stick comfort me, even tho’ I wobble a bit. – Psalm 23¾

I did indeed wobble a bit. My walk hobble to work took 30 instead of the usual 20 minutes and my legs were aching by the time I got there.

The lesson was done from the seated position, actually it was doing a song exercise and a mini test, so thankfully there was not a lot of standing expected.

Saturday/Caturday, time to recover the excesses of work last night. I want to be right to get back to work on Monday because, apart from the medical costs, this week off work has cost me R$400 off my salary for the month. Being sick is expensive, no wonder I don’t do it often.

I have enough meat left for another BBQ. It is thawed, so must be used. I’ll go to the botequim about 11am and see if anyone is interested in lighting the BBQ. LOL like they’d refuse… It’s so handy having a neighbourhood bar nextdoor.

I’ll have to go and get some more straw and water first, still on meds. Doesn’t that make me sound horrible, like a druggie?

It’s a sunny day, perfect for beer & BBQ.

For some reason a post on retired beer kegs I did on my Nether Region has attracted a lot of interest, the post has nearly 100 hits since last night. I have not idea why, or who. Generally speaking, the last week has seen a small, but welcome, increase in hits on all my blogs; and the new blog (click Caturday link above) has slowly begun to take off, not dramatically, but moving in the right direction.

I read during the week that “14pt is the new 12pt” I’ve noticed a few blogs using 14pt lately. It looks god-awful ugly. Apparently this is to combat the small size screens of iPads and SmartPhones, etc. I don’t damned well care! It’s UGLY!

So ugly, that I have begun bypassing these blogs. little red xAs soon as I see 14pt text as the body, I click that little red ‘X’ in the top right corner. I will not sully my screen with 14pt text.

Damned, again?

Damned, again?

The normally tranquil life of Rio de Janeiro is about to be disturbed again, There is a week to go for Rockin’ Rio. First it’s the pope, or Lady Gaga, or some other insignificant, I can’t be bothered with this nonsense.

The byline reads ‘for a better world’. It would be a better world if they stopped this shit.

The logistics for these mammoth events is a total waste of the Earth’s resources.

But, who cares?

We live blindly in the ‘here and now,’ bugger tomorrow.

It’s all going to hit the fan in the near future and humanity will be left shaking it’s collective head asking, ‘what happened?’

Interesting post coming up tomorrow on Tomus Acarnum about it being too late for the Earth’s aliens to save themselves. Actually, the posts there over the last couple of days are also alien-ated.

I need a nap before BBQ.


Dishes Done



Dishes Undone

I took one look at the kitchen this morning… and it scared me!

I made coffee and ran back to the safety of my ‘puter.

I made another coffee, then another, but my hopes that the dishes will disappear have been dashed.

I'll be doing a lot of this later

I’ll be doing a lot of this later

itaipava 4

Straw-flavoured water

The BBQ was a success, lots of meat, salads and pickles. The pickles were the first to go and all the ladies wanted to know how to make them; and many had never seen coleslaw before.

I drank my straw-flavoured water, while everyone enjoyed real beer and wine.

Locals and some students helped me celebrate my sixty-twoth (as one of my students said) birthday. We need to do some work on his ordinal numbers.

Cloro has discovered he can fly. I now have a kitten who is in line for the ‘Leaping Supreme Award’ as he flies across from the small sofa to the big sofa then takes a flying leap to land on me using his needle sharp little claws as brakes on whatever part of my anatomy he happens to make contact with.

It appears that Cloro maybe a Clora, a girl. It’s hard to tell the difference at that age between a clitoris and a penis, they’re so tiny, and I’m no expert in feline gendering. I nearly said “I was no expert in pussy”, but after having 12 kids, that would be a mistake. Writing posts ‘off-the-cuff’ you can really make serious faux pas.

Still having the odd spot of bother with Dizzy Lizzy, although the spells between are getting longer. I managed seven hours of BBQ yesterday before she came to visit about 10pm, which I thought was pretty good; albeit a sign for home and bed.

Lunch today is already made. I have leftover shepherd’s pie that I made on Wednesday, has to be eaten today. Then there is thawed chicken that needs to be cooked, and leftover meat from BBQ, the meat will do another BBQ tomorrow, there’s enough.

I see that David Cameron (Britain’s prime minister) got egg all over his face, most embarrassing when parliament doesn’t go along with your plans to help the Americans attack Syria.

Although I do sympathise with the Syrians and their problem to oust Bashar al-Bastard.

afirefoxI have been plagued recently (last few months) with malware type thingies highjacking the search engine capabilities of Firefox, I tried many methods to get rid of them without having to remove the oil sump and pistons (the inner workings scare me almost as much as the dishes) with no success.  Something happened the other night, can’t remember quite what, but it was suggested that I reset FF to its original parameters. I did and lo-and-behold both malware disappeared. All my passwords, bookmarks and history were saved, so you don’t loose anything. You go to Help, Troubleshooting Info, Reset FF and follow directions, as simple as that. So there’s a solution for you that doesn’t involve removing FF’s pistons and getting your hands dirty.

There’s that’s my social service for the day.



Yes, it’s playtime… at least that’s what Cloro thinks. My house resembles a kitty-nursery, toys everywhere. Plastic bottle cap, a screwed up foil top from a beer can, a screwed up pizza brochure, a coin, a toothbrush used as a ‘puter duster, a cigarette packet retrieved from the rubbish, a clothes peg (that I stood on and heard crack – I thought, “OMG, I’ve broken his little leg!”).

Last night he sat on my leg (warm place on a cold night) watching the football and I found myself explaining the game to him, “yes, game for silly men to kick their balls around”. It was at that point I stopped talking and watched the game.

He’s just discovered, during one of frequent romps, that if you run and land in the polystyrene tray I use for his meat, it shoots across the floor like a sled.

I am steampunk Virgo

I am steampunk Virgo

Today is birthday. Mine. So I am writing this post first or the chances are, it won’t get written later.

I am feeling, generally, better this morning. I feel such a fraud at the prospect of having my birthday BBQ after three straight days of cancelling lessons; almost like I was throwing a sickie.

6am and the meat was out of the freezer. I have so much to do, change the kitty litter  (dirt), wash poopified towel, blanket and tracksuit pants from the days before Cloro figured out what the pizza box top was for. Then I have a trip to the supermarket, need more 0.0% beer and some other stuff. Have to make a coleslaw, I am going to make some carpaccio rolls (blue cheese, capers and olive oil). I already have pickled cabbage, onions and beetroot in the fridge. Wine, I must put some wine in the fridge… There, fresh coffee and I have fridged bottles of  Australian, New Zealand, Chilean, and Portuguese wines.

I got interviewed. If you want to check that out… Do so here Nothing startling, just some thoughts on life.

My Day is Carefully Measured

I have spent half chasing tests and pills, and the other half asleep, oh and the other half chasing Cloro’s kitty poos and pees…

Does that make sense? <—— Rhetorical question, doesn’t need an answer and I don’t want to know if it does.

I not long ago woke from a nap. Dizzy lizzy came to visit.

Nothing by mouth before blood tests

Nothing by mouth before blood tests

My day started off diabolically… NO COFFEE! Now that is totally unreasonable to expect anybody to function with the remotest sense of decorum without coffee. However, today I managed. I didn’t manage it well, but I managed.

My first stop was the laboratory at the clinic for blood tests.

Now that seems simple enough, that is until you see the sign on the wall. ‘Documents required before tests will be done…’ ID – I don’t have ID, but they accepted my passport number, the next was the killer… CPF (Brazilian tax number) – I don’t have one, I am ‘passing through’. Response, can’t do tests without one! So, I very carefully and calmly explained to the pretty receptionist (remember this was a pre-Coffee situation), that I had managed to arrange the appointment with the specialist without a CPF, I had registered at the specialist without a CPF, they had received my money (remember that R$150 yesterday) without a CPF, I had seen and been treated by the specialist without a CPF; and now you tell me I can’t have a BLOODY BLOOD TEST without a CPF!

I had begun to envisage the new clinic wallpaper

I had begun to envisage the new clinic wallpaper

She called her supervisor, then asked me to sit and wait a moment.

I assumed she had told the supervisor that she had a hysterical velho caduco (grouchy old man) without a CPF causing um escandalo (a ruckus) in reception.

Because by now the whole reception was tuttering ‘bureaucracy’ and knew that this religiously founded clinic was denying an old man a blood test.

Eventually, she summoned me to the counter again and proceeded to book the blood test.

See, it pays to throw a tantrum, something I learned very early in life. It wasn’t a ‘rolling-on-the-floor’ type of tantrum, I managed to retain a little poise and respect, but I got the blood test… after paying another R$105.

It was against the odds

It was against the odds

Hell, it’s MY blood and I have to pay to give it! I managed to avoid another meltdown and was lead through the doors into the inner sanctum to find that the staff had been running a book, he will/he won’t get a blood test.

The nurse taking my blood was on the winning side and treated me with courtesy and respect; and none of the ‘this-won’t-hurt (me)’ bullshit.

I left a happy victim, I even thanked the pretty receptionist, after all, she had learned something ‘everything is possible, even if it flies in the face of bureaucracy.

So far, so good.

Taxi home. Need to call at a chemist’s to get prescription filled. First chemist, power’s out cant do it. Yes, we have the pills but can’t do it without power for ‘puter. Second chemist, sorry only have one lot, I can call the chemist down the road and have them delivered. The second chemist didn’t answer the phone, remember, his power is out.

The power was indeed out, on our way we saw that a fast moving concrete telephone pole had jumped out in front of a stationary bus. Both had come to a sticky end.

Third chemist, yes… yes… great, I got my pills and the taxi fare was climbing.

Home took pills.

Exhausted, need nap. Cancel classes before nap.

And here I am, rattling with all the pills.


Oh, a foot note, Cloro has started pooping and peeing in his pizza box facility…


Cummins and Goin’s


Cloro needs lessons

Cloro still sounds like a little Cummins diesel, but he’s going to have to control his goin’s. So far has has gone on the sofa x2, the carpet, the towel (I found that after I sat in it) , the T-shirt, and he’s just pissed on the sheets. He doesn’t seem to get the idea that you poo in the pizza box. He’s done one poo in the garden, but it has been raining since and that’s not conducive to kitties going outside.

He’s discovered there’s a cat inside the oven. He plays peek-a-boo with the mirror-like oven door.

Had a dizzy lizzy today, finally tracked down an ortorh… ear-nose-throat guy, saw him this afternoon. The conversation went like this; Good afternoon (R$50) let’s have a look (R$50) Hmmmm, needs a wash (R$50)…

coffecatI have to go back in the morning before coffee for some tests. I tried to explain to him that going out the gate before coffee was a bit like becoming a Zombie, to no avail.

Then I go back for the results next Tuesday.

Meanwhile, more pills.

I am trying 0.0% beer. Funny stuff, tastes sort of like beer… NO! It tastes like straw soaked in water, but I could get used to it. Beggars can’t be choosers.

I’m going to have another handle with some chips (may be they’ll improve the flavour) and watch the news.


The Elevator doesn’t Always Work

“I sit and wait, but the elevator doesn’t always work, so I have to use the stairs and scramble up my grown-up’s pants leg to get to the top floor.” – Cloro


He purrs like a Cummin’s diesel at the idle

It is often said of cats when they purr that ‘their little motor is running’. If I were to apply this to Cloro it would be entirely inadequate. Because Cloro is powered by a whopping great Cummin’s diesel engine, his whole little body vibrates on the idle.

You’ll notice that I dropped the ‘h’ from Cloro’s name, the ‘h’ was my English brain working, Cloro is Portuguese.

Yesterday’s lunch was a failure. I got the fish battered, the oven fried chips and stuffed tomatoes done, but dizzy lizzy came to visit and the idea of making sweet ‘n’ sour sauce just became impossible to even contemplate.

I am off to the Otorhino… ear-nose-throat guy this morning. Yesterday was almost a whole day of dizzy lizzy.  I want to go this morning before she comes to visit again.


The Ressurection

Like I said the other day, “no fancy rock to roll away, and Mary Magdalena hasn’t shown up” I managed what I thought to be the impossible. I ressurected my small saucepan. It was easier than I had imagined based on past experience (oh, no, it’s not the first time I cremated a pot). Just armed with a Scotchbrite pad it scrubbed up quite well.

Kitty10My catless days are over. I posted Lessons Learned on Some Animals are Crackers about lessons learned in the first twelve hours.

He’s going to be a blogger cat, has to sit on knee and watch blogging process.

So far today, he has discovered that he has a tail, and if you chase it, it disappears. A scrunched up paper ball is fun too, that doesn’t disappear when you chase it. Opening the gate makes a lot of noise, scared Kitty scratches chest in fright.

Yesterday, I discovered something horrific. It was even on TV here, a phenomenon called ‘air guitar’. Honestley, what a bunch of pathetic wankers. Posted about that on Bullshit Corner. Air guitar is like rap music; rap music is for those who can’t sing… air guitar is for those who have no idea how to play a guitar. Jerkers jerking to look like jerks.

can-of-wormsThe US military is going to wish they’d never heard of Bradley Celeste Manning.

He’s opened a whole new can of oligochaetes*; and so soon after they accepted gay soldiers as a fact of life.

The advent of transgender soldiers.

So for the next 35 years, the military has to look after a transgender soldier.

Wouldn’t it just have been easier to give him the Medal of Honor and told he was a good girl, now go home and play.

It seems there is no doubt that nerve gas has been used in Syria, although there is little doubt that it was used by the government forces, there are suggestions that it might have been the rebels themselves. It appears that the chances of World vs Syria could yet be on the programme. Bashar al-Bastard has promised the Middle East will burn if outsiders intervene. He could be right there, Russia and Iran will not stand idly by, Israel may even get BBQed.

Understanding the problems in the Middle East has always been an elusive idea. I knew a fair bit, but I read a BBC article last night that explains much, before the added problems of the creation of Israel. I posted the article on Tomus Arcanum yesterday; worth reading.

I have decided to name Kitty, Chloro (that’s bleach in Portuguese) because he looks like he’s been partly dipped in bleach, just his tail, heels and head and ears survived. Also it rolls off the tongue nicely. He’s lost interest in blogging for the moment, he’s asleep on my his our bed; that’s an issue yet to be decided.

Fried fish for lunch. Battered sole (halibut for our American cousins) fillet with sweet ‘n’ sour sauce, oven-fried crisps and stuffed tomatoes garnished with fresh parsley.

It’s time for a nap. Chloro is about to get shunted to the side of the bed.



*NB: oligochaetes = worms



Let’s Meet…


I am no longer catless.

Johnny’s mum brought round the kitten. I was afraid that it would be a short hair ordinary moggy, but I was handed this little white fluffball with eyes bluer than mine.

After a few careful strokes and he settled against me, not quite purring, but just little guttural noises.

At the moment he’s Kitty, I haven’t decided on a name yet.

He’s been fed and watered, he’s explored, he’s played with his first toy – my camera strap.

My first toy

My first toy

He’s got a light brown smudge on his head. I haven’t inspected the black spot on his eye yet, don’t want to scare him so soon.

Pooh! Flipflops smell yucky

Pooh! Flipflops smell yucky

His tail is a tabby tail, the rest is almost all white, or faint brown tones.

Iz fallin azleep on my newz bedz

Iz fallin azleep on my noo bedz

He’s now asleep behind me on the bed.

I’m tempted to name him Johnny after the boy who came to my gate, or maybe Bleach, because he’s not quite white… All my cats have been named after characteristics or circumstances. But he is Kuttiful, don’t you think?




no-alcoholWell, after yesterdays series of dizzy spells, I went to the UPA again this morning, this time my blood pressure was up a little. I got a little blue pill shoved under my tongue and started to fizz, I got poked and jabbed and had stuff pumped into me, made me pee like crazy. Four hours later, I was given another prescription and told to see an ear-nose-throat type.

In the taxi home, I remembered I hadn’t got anything out of the freezer, so there was only one solution, BBQ! Once again the waiters were surprised that I ordered a jug of fresh orange juice… this could become a habit.

I haven’t been told “No Alcohol”, I just haven’t felt like it. To me it makes sense, if you are taking pills you shouldn’t drink booze. I have been making extra fruit juice, pineapple and orange juice and banana smoothies.

So tomorrow, I am off into the city to search for an Otorhinolaryngologist, if you think that’s hard to say in English, you want to try the Portuguese version, it’s a real tongue twister. I have been given a vague idea where one hangs out.

One of the local kids banged on my gate this afternoon. “Mum wants to know if you want a kitten?”

So I may not be catless for too long.

I’m not particularly in writing mode at the moment. I actually have to think about thinking before I think, then the thinking process is a slow one, and inspiration is proportionately slow, almost inverse.

So, Later. Be good folks and hope you are having a better weekend than me.


Dizzy Lizzy Pills

I need one of these

I seriously need one of these

Despite my having taken the dizzy lizzy pills as prescribed at regular +/- give-or-take intervals, I still have the occasional dizzy lizzy.

Like last night, the final ten minutes of class threatened to send me into an embarrassing collapse in mid-flight. Then again during the night, I woke at 1, something, o’clock and tried to sit up in bed… whoops, wrong thing to do; I fell back in an amoebic-like heap and lay still letting the fan play across my sweating form until I finally fell asleep waking two hours later feeling fine +/-.

My head feels a little thick, okay, thicker than it normally feels! But I think (ouch that hurts) I’ll get through the day; especially as it is a day off.

Today, I attempt a god-like miracle. I will attempt the resurrection of my beloved little saucepan (see yesterday’s post). I haven’t got a fancy rock to roll away, and Mary Magdalene hasn’t stopped by, yet.

I so wanted smoke out of his ears, but couldn't find one

No, Bradley, I will not be calling you Celeste

Bradley Manning has, or at least, wants to be Celeste, the big question is, now that he has been imprisoned for 35 years, will the army let him?

You see, I was right again; the army judge didn’t award him the Medal of Honor which he justifiably deserved.

Obama really has his panties in a twist over these guys.

I bet he’s fuming over Snowden.

I so wanted smoke pouring out of his ears, but couldn’t find one. Google is really so slack.

Fish for lunch, baked, poached, fried, I haven’t decided… yet. Snap decision when I open the fridge. It’s times like these that I really miss my Lixo, he so loved the trimmings of the fish as I prepared it. Gone but not forgotten my little friend.

There has been a suggestion, that the use of nerve gas in Syria, was a deliberate attempt to escalate the situation to armed conflict, in effect a ‘false flag’ situation. These seem to be prevalent wherever America is involved, almost so prevalent as to be totally discarded as a coincidence. It really makes one wonder WTF is going on? And, personally, I find the answer scary!

Think of it like this…


The dogs represent our traditional enemies and fears, whereas the cat represents our security… America.

I think that is a brilliant analogy… of course, I would, it’s mine!

Must blog along, much to do today, despite the woolly head.




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