Tag Archive: keys


OMG! It’s 6pm!

I’ve done it before, and apparently, I’ve done it again.

Today started off okay twelve hours ago, that was when evrything went wrong.

Coffee was okay, even the second, then I discovered that I’d forgotten to leave the keys for work at work last night.

Never before was this so applicable

Never before was this so applicable

I began to fret, and after some work here (real work, not blogging) I had to take the keys back before someone (the bossette) discovered that I really was an idiot.

Now, I am ready to resume my responsibility and blog along. There is an internet connection problem and it’s as slow as a wet week  and comes and goes. At the moment, it’s gone again, making my endeavours very painful indeed.

Well, it’s now after 9:00 pm. It’s taken me three hours to get this far. It appears that the connection has settled down.

Okay, on with today’s woes.

Having taken the keys back to work, I was half way to the supermarket, so I walked the rest of the way.

Good move? No bad move. I had forgotten that today was Wednesday. Supermarkets have their meat specials on Wednesdays; oh poo! The place was packed with dedicated shoppers. Navigating was nigh on impossible, but I managed and eventually got to the checkout. All the checkouts had long lines. I got into one. Two laden trolleys in front; then when the next woman began putting her shopping on the checkout, she pulled two more laden trolleys that were on the side into line; she had three trolleys and she seemed to take a sadistic delight in being as slow as possible.

The next guy was mercifully quick, then my turn.

Finally I got home; three hours later.

End of the story… oh no.

They has just fired up the BBQ at the botequim.

When one is invited to participate, it’s rather churlish to refuse. I hurriedly put away my shopping, grabbed some smoked sausage and Coalho cheese kebabs to add to the offerings and went next door.

That’s where I spent the next three hours and three beers.

End of the story… oh no.

Had to have a nap, and that’s where I spent the next three hours.

A coffee, and that’s where I came in at the top of the post. I have been M.I.A. Not a blog post done for the day.

Talk about a day wasted. Mind you, I could have wasted it watching football, but there were no games today. Nor tomorrow, I wonder how I can waste the day tomorrow?

So it is with heavy heart that I will blog along.



Press the Fn Key!

function_key_mousepadI have tried.

But it doesn’t help me function.

The only thing that helps me function is coffee, wonderful, wonderful Brazilian coffee.

For example, yesterday I didn’t have enough coffee, so I couldn’t function. In fact so bad was my lack of function and coordination that I didn’t get here yesterday.

I went to the Murder House.

In the corner of my old primary school there was a small isolated building that we called the ‘Murder House’.

Every so often a kid would appear at the classroom door, whisper to the teacher, who would then call out a name. That kid was being summoned to the ‘Murder House’.


Murder weapon

Nervously, the summoned would pack is books into his/her school desk and lower the lid ever so slowly as if trying to prolong the safety of the classroom; then slowly, ever so slowly amble to the door, with a last glance back to friends and playmates, and disappear.

Sometimes they came back, but sometimes they didn’t, they’d been murdered by the school’s dental nurse using the fearsome treadle drill. The pervading smell of alcohol and the funny watery silver stuff that was amalgamated to pack ones teeth.

We knew why the ‘Murder House’ was isolated in the far corner of the school, that was so the other kids wouldn’t be traumatised by the screams, because the ‘Murder House’ didn’t respect playtime (recess) nor the lunch hour. We never actually saw a corpse leave the ‘Murder House’, but we did see distraught kids hustled quickly out the back gate with their mums.

You see, that is why my generation grew up with an innate fear of the dentist, a fear that for me exists today some nearly sixty years later.

I have a friend, Luciano, he’s a dentist, he’s my dentist. I like him, he’s great fun at a BBQ, but I hate what he does. Which is why I procrastinated from early December until yesterday in going to see him.

As it turned out, I did have two serious problems, he packed a curative in and told me not to chew my beer for an hour. Painless, one slight twinge, that sent me hurtling back in time (who needs a time machine?) and I was being hustled out of the chair for the next victim patient.

afghangirlIn my last post, I mentioned an eight year old Afghan girl being arrested as a suicide bomber.

She was shown on TV last night here in Brazil, she is in fact 10, a beautiful, articulate and seemingly intelligent girl.

What manner of people would treat a child like this? Apparently her older brother, a Taliban, recruited her. He is now being hunted by the police.

The world is an evil place.

Must blog along.


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