Tag Archive: therapy

I am sorely tempted

NotaDrillTo go back to bed.

It’s Monday!

Now what can possibly go wrong today?

So far, the worst to happen is that I forgot to put sugar in my coffee, but I fear that could pale into insignificance when you consider the possiblities.

My standby monitor is threatening to close down, it just shrank the image a little more. Now that is worthy of Monday type crap. The monitor repair guy still hasn’t got my LCD monitor going. I’ll have to go see him AGAIN! What’s the bet he’s not home… of course he’s not, it’s MONDAY!

A cultural tomor

A cultural tomor

Cultural tumor – What a wonderful sounding phrase. I saw it over the weekend. It was referring to a British politician. Cultural tumor, doesn’t that just roll off the tongue?

You could also use it to describe social web sites, like FB.

“My husband left me!” Complained a headline in a major newspaper. This set me thinking… you OWN him? Does one human own another, isn’t that slavery? Actually, that’s what marriage is all about, slavery; one human owning another.

I see the new Dr Who started. People flocked to watch it. Sorry, for me Dr Who started and finished with William Hartnell; none of the others come close to cutting the mustard.

Ebola has escaped West Africa, there’s been two deaths in DR Congo.  It’s spreading. Even the UN is worried. England was reported as not fearing contamination, myopic bastards. This is going to explode into a global problem.

criancaWe have a big push here in Brazil for Criança Esperança (Children’s Hopes) on TV. It’s been a big thing here for twenty or more years. All the big name (read Brazilian) stars are behind it. And it does a lot of good. But why do we need it? Because the government isn’t doing its job! It’s the same with any charity anywhere in the world. If governments did their job, we wouldn’t need charity. They flog our money through taxes, and then expect us to foot the bill under the guise of charity. The governments are once again taking the people for a ride. And the people fall for it.

Sunny day out there, slight breeze, I’m due to go out for some therapy at the supermarket. If I don’t, I don’t eat. House full of wine and beer, but no food. I seriously need to reevaluate my priorities.

This week is birthday week. Friday I turn 63. What a great excuse for a BBQ! In fact, I plan two, one on Friday at the botequim, the other on Saturdy for family. I’m afraid next weekend will be another case of diminished responsibilty. So my head is full of plans.

I must toddle off…


Chickens don’t Fart

Who, me?

Who, me?

Apparently this is the main environmental concern with poultry/beef and mutton. I didn’t see a mention about pigs, I presume pigs fart.

The production of methane is the issue.

Then I read yesterday that 66% of British poultry is contaminated with camphylobacter… which causes thousands of dodgy stomachs every year.

Then I read that cows eat grass… well, duh, they’re meant to, humans can’t eat grass; whereas chickens are in direct competition to humans for high quality grain.

What it boils down to is we’re damned if we do, and damned if we don’t.

So, what about human flatulence? Isn’t our flatulence methane, or is it some rosy non-smelly stuff?

Yes, maybe we should be looking at taxing humans who fart

Yes, maybe we should be looking at taxing humans who fart

Now if we bring in the human element and measure against cows, who produces the most methane?

As a parting shot… just be glad cows aren’t raised on garlic and cabbage!



 Clorinha had a tiring day…

Romping around the praça, visiting the botequim, chasing the boy cats next door; life is just so exhausting.

By 8pm she was zonked on the sofa

By 8pm she was zonked on the sofa

Then she stopped out all night. She came for her nightly boomp when I went to bed, then jumped off the bed and didn’t come home until the third coffee.

Strange plant.

Some years ago, I saw this plant in a neighbour’s front yard and was informed that it had to be grown from a fallen seedling.

Sharing a tin with a tomato and two papaya trees

Sharing a tin with a tomato and two papaya trees

I don’t know what made me do it, but a couple of months ago, I passed one in the street and snapped a twig off it. Once in the water at home on the windowsill, it sprouted roots and I transplanted it. The tomato and mamão (papaya) are self sown from the compost I filled the tin with.

Dark green upper leaf and dark purple underneath.

Dark green upper leaf and dark purple underneath.

Any ideas as to what I am growing?

Fourth blog today, halfway there.

Must blog along on this sunny Thursday morning, then it’s off to town to buy a SIM memory for my new cellphone and off to the supermarket for some therapy. I am going to Extra today, they have Lea & Perrins Worcestershire sauce and a roasting dish with a heavy base that won’t buckle when I make the gravy like my current one.

Oh, the excitement, sends shivers all over.



Post Mortems


Poor Neymar Jr

The month of folly and madness is behind us. The world can return to normal. There remains just the post mortems.

Sadly Brazil blew it, or had it blown for them.

I am not going to dwell further, but I will point you to two excellent blog posts.

First: Your cut out and keep guide to the World Cup Final by Andrew, a wonderful example of speaking Andrewese.

Second: Culture Shock by an American ex-pat married to a German.

Both are well  worth reading. Don’t drink your coffee while doing so.

Yesterday I watched the final, somewhat nonplussed, I was rooting for Argentina, but my fellow fregües (regulars) at the botequim told me my reasoning was misplaced.

However, grudges were not born, as I supplied two homemade pizzas, one before th game and the other at half time. The first a three-cheese-three-meats, and the second asparagus bruschetta and shiitake, all was forgiven and my beer paid for. *Grinning* I’m old, not stupid.


Pizza Expless

Speaking of pizzas, Pizza Express has been sold to the Chinese. Nothing is sacred any more.

Watch out for chow mein and noodle pizzas.

It would be akin to selling Mercedes Benz to Korea; or do they already own it?

The world is full of injustices.

BTW, the bruschetta was horrible as a topping, that’s why I sacrificed it as a pizza base sauce, then it was acceptable. The asparagus content was the hard stringy offcuts from asparagus used for better ends.

bartvoices-2I have staff. I never realised it. Reading MWPG’s blog this morning, she blamed the voices in her head for something calling them her staff. Yes, I have staff… voices in my head. They are the ones that forget good ideas and posting material.

Do you have voices?

Sometimes, they’re wonderful company; better company that some of the people I know, but other times they can be a hinderance.

Do I need therapy?

I know that I need a nap, it’s already after lunch, which I haven’t had yet and am not bothered with. I woke up late this morning. I was up between 3 & 5, then back to bed, slept in until 9:30 and woke to a lovely sunny morning after another ‘blanket’ night.

The plants have been watered, the dishes sneered at (very few actually) and the fresh coffee is all gone (that’s 1½ pints), is it any wonder I am so beautiful? <—– rhetorical question, doesn’t warrant a reply.

So, napping right along.


In the end, there was happiness

oiw_2421apg_g-500x500After waiting all day for the techie to arrive, he finally did, at 6pm.

I tried to fathom how 6pm could be equated with ‘first thing in the morning’, but without success; it was beyond my rationale.

He gave me a new router, not the same as before, but similar.

It works like a dream. I can upload, I can download, and I’m sure if I tried I could sideload as well.

Mine hasn’t got the antenna thingy, it’s connected direct to PC.

So I have been able to post on all my blogs this morning and still have time for a nap. No stress, no frustration, no swearing, no cantankerous outbursts.

Hot day today. The ninth hot day in a row with temps above 38°C (100°F), yesterday the thermal sensation was 50°C. Last night it was impossible to sleep. We are due for a change today, probably late afternoon and a cooler day (34°C) is forecast for tomorrow.

The fridge is all but empty, so I must have some therapy today at the supermarket. I don’t really want to go far, the botequim next door would be far enough.

mango-juice_6Lunch yesterday was a simple affair, leftovers (part of an onion, part of a tomato, grated cheese, chopped gherkins) in a pound of mincemeat and made a six inch hamburger steak.

Today’s lunch will be a variety on the same theme, I’ll chop a handful of parsley and mix again. I resisted putting the remains of the vanilla cake in too.

I was given some mangoes by a neighbour, so the juice de jour will be fizzy mango (I’ll make it with the last of the sparkling mineral water).

My poor fluffy Cloro has been suffering these last few days. I have never seen a cat pant with tongue lolling like a dog before. He has both fresh water and milk available, so it’s not for the want of liquids; and I have been giving him fresh mince meat instead of dried shit hoping that that also will give him moisture.

Time for the news.



Global Warming

My kitchen looks like this

My kitchen looks like this

My kitchen looks as though an Arctic ice sheet has melted in it, water everyf**kinwhere!

While ice flows fall off the glacier at the back of the fridge.

Yes, I had the stupid idea this morning to defrost the fridge while it had next to no food (common situation) and I needed to defrost the meat in the freezer for the BBQ. BBQ was going to be tomorrow, but logistics demanded a change to Monday, my ex had a better party to go to tomorrow.

Such is life. She also made a point of “Don’t forget my present!” I said, “You’ve got it, she’s seven this year, “ …looong silence. Maybe that wasn’t the best response… You know sometimes women just don’t have a sense of humour; but I finally figured out how a woman’s mind works. If you want to know the secret check Satireday on Tomus. I made the art work this morning.

Five days to go, then it’s only 364 days till next Christmas.

I spent a good part of yesterday making new Philosoraptor Memes, Like this one.


Philosoraptor is featured every Phriday on my They say it’s in the Genes blog.

This post is being constantly interrupted by the necessity to squeegee out the kitchen to avoid flooding the living room as well.

dead-poets-society-quotes-14Had a late night last night. I watched a movie, one of my favourites; Dead Poets Society.

I had downloaded it sometime ago in a version with Portuguese subtitles to play for my students.

Finally got to bed about 2am.

Cloro has just come in and wants to know why his food bowl (polystyrene) has floated across the kitchen.

It won’t be long now, another hour should see the end of the ice and I can turn the fridge on again and the house can return to normal.

Then it’s off to the supermarket for some therapy and a bottle of Drambuie (that’s my Christmas present: “To me, from me, with love!”).

I finally discovered coffee home delivery…



It Could Only Happen on A Monday

I got burdened honoured with an award.

And it happened not twenty minutes after I had made the decision not to do any more of these.

But, Pecora Negra is such a nice bloke, I have decided to make this the last. I should really be napping. Also, I haven’t seen this award before.

The Woman’s Skirt Award, I suppose it’s better than being an old woman’s blouse…

Now I have to divulge eight things about myself…

1 :: All my life I have loved guns. Not for their ability to massacre, but the precision needed to put a small piece of metal exactly where you want it at a long distance. Yes, I did some hunting in my early twenties, but didn’t make a habit of it. At the age of 14 in air cadets I had mastered the art of shooting sufficiently that they gave me one of these to play with…

.303 Bren Mk II LMG

.303 Bren Mk II LMG

Boyhood doesn’t get much better.

2 :: I’m a high school dropout. Didn’t pass my school cert, thought bugger this, and left before the end of the year only to enlist in the Air Force at the age of 16 as, you guessed it, an armament mechanic; looking after guns and bombs and other stuff that went bang!

Emmylee eating icecream

Emmylee – Made in Brazil

3 :: I got married at 23 and my wife of 19 spent the next 3½ years pregnant.

4 :: Apart from the original three I added another 8 stepchildren along the way and made one more, Emmylee. Made in Brazil with New Zealand components.

5 :: For 11 years I lived out of a suitcase as I traveled around South America. The only counties I haven’t yet been to are Colombia and Venezuela.

6 :: I can fly. I flew gliders as a sport in the Air Force.

7 :: when I was about 8, I convinced my younger brother he could fly. We were in the hedge beside the kitchen, at the top. I told him if he flapped his arms he could leap serenely from our perch. He jumped just as our mother shouted DON’T! from the kitchen window. He broke his collarbone.

8 :: I have been an atheist since I was 12, so I don’t do Christmas, but wish all my visitors a Merry Quafftide.

Now this is as far as I go. I don’t nominate blogs for these awards, there are too many deserving ones out there. Not the only reason, but the last time I nominated 10 for a similar award, not one acknowledged the fact. So I don’t.

If you feel you would like to participate, steal it and do it. If not, no bones were broken in the process.

I went to the supermarket for some therapy this morning, so I didn’t get my customary nap, a lapse which I am about the rectify.



Hold my Pussy!

failed_stampEver had one of those days?

Well, I’ve just had two of them, one after the other.

Yesterday, I managed to get most of my blogging done, except the my main post for Wednesday on Eco-Crap, which itself indicates some sort of disaster has fallen.

Not a disaster as in The Philippines with their typhoon, that was a disaster of epic proportions. My disaster was spending the day from 11:30am in therapy, yes, I went shopping.

On Tuesday I wrote that I planned to pay my rent and get my ink cartridge refilled, well it was 11:15 before I remembered it.

Fifteen minutes later I was out of the house. You see that’s the wonderful part of being a man; I can go from a standing start to being out of the house in 15 minutes. A women can’t do this.

Of course, the exit wasn’t as simple as one might imagine. Cloro wanted to come too. I got to the gate, through the gate, locked the gate, and Cloro wriggled under the gate, she sat there with a “where are we going?” look.

There was only one solution as I wasn’t going to escape that easy. I walked the eleven metres to the botequim, Cloro followed. One of the fregües was there having a quiet beer. “Gilsen, hold my pussy until I get to the corner!”

Gilsen grabbed an unsuspecting Cloro, and I hobbled off at a great rate of hobs, made it to the corner and effected my escape. Remember this was all in the fifteen minutes.

Got to town, got my ink cartridge filled, then the rent place had closed for lunch. Okay, in the event of this happening, I have a cunning plan… I went for lunch too. Braseiro is just around the corner. The next two hours was spent at lunch; you see at 60+ years old I adhere strictly to gentleman’s hours.

Time was marching on.

caipirinha_024I had a good lunch, five pints of beer and a caipirinha to finish. I was a bad boy, but I still had a trick up my sleeve. During lunch I was served a cutlet of lamb. They used to have a nice jelly mint sauce, it was horrendously expensive, so they cut it out and yesterday presented me with a lime-green caseiro (homemade) version. It was as horrendous tasting as the old offering was horrendously priced. A discussion ensued, in which I lambasted their efforts and told them how to make a real traditional NZ mint sauce, promising to return and give them a sample as I had a spare jar in the fridge.

Time was indeed marching on.

I paid my bill, went and paid my rent.

Now the second thing I had planned (lunch wasn’t in my original plans, that’s what I love about plans, that element of flexibility was to buy a set of saucepans (pots of for our American cousins).

This is the part where I entered therapy. To get to the pots and pans section, I had to walk through the clothes section. I’m sure this is a deliberate plot. I happened to spot a pair of dress trousers, and there glaring at me was my size, 52cm. Draped them over my arm. Then I saw a nice casual but dressy T-shirt, once again, my size was glaring at me, GG (big-big); it joined the trousers draped over my arm.

I finally got to the pots and pans place. The moment I saw this box open on display with it’s dark red-finished non-stick pots, I knew that I had to have it and nothing else would do. The girl took them to the checkout for me, and I had to pass the wine-glasses. I saw a blog post the other day that suggested we need glasses as we get older and had a picture of wine glasses. So true, I thought to myself, so true; and the take 8 – pay for 6 tag was irresistible. New tea towels joined the trousers and T-shirt on my arms as I made my way to the checkout.

My therapy was a success, but by the time I got home the last thing I wanted to do was give an English class ;(my second student had already cancelled, but I still had Marcello at 5:30.

I didn’t actually get home, the taxi stopped in front of the botequim and I recognised a major ‘Fail’ about to happen. I got a bottle of beer and Cloro found me at the bar, “What’s this?” she asked pawing her way into the big bag. I took the wine glasses out in case they fell out. Cloro went to sleep in the bag and I rang my student.

My story was that I had just got home from town and my legs didn’t want to behave like legs, I was exhausted; if you want an English lesson, you’ll have to come to the botequim. Knowing that Marcelo liked his beer, the idea appealed immediately, in fact I could see his eyes light up at the idea; he was still at work, 20kms away.

Another beer, I was now officially waiting for my student. He arrived after the second beer, late as usual. More beer, and then football was on TV, which meant more beer. I finally got home at 9pm.

Today, wasn’t really any different, although I didn’t have lunch, but I did deliver samples of my mint sauce to the restaurant.

There you have it, two consecutive ‘Fail’ days.

Meanwhile, check out this logic…






Just for your information…

I use charcoal, gas doesn't do it for me

I use charcoal, gas doesn’t do it for me

It’s Sunday!

Sunday is a day of leisure, I have posted on all blogs and I am about to leisure.

Leisuring involves charcoal, meat and beer.

Being as some people think of Sunday as the day of the Lord, I will not mention the ‘P’ word, nor the ‘T’ word out of deference.

Basically, I am using yesterday’s leftovers, except the beer, that will be fresh.

I must go for some therapy first, a trip to the supermarket is in order. I have been promising that to myself since Friday.

I see the USA and Israel have not paid their UNESCO dues and have been suspended. All because the organisation recognised Palestine. Fine, F*&k off then! We don’t need your shit! In fact, we’re better off without you.

In relation to the above, I apologise to the nice Americans out there, I do recognise that not all Americans are tarred with the same brush as your politicians. Politicians (world, not just US) should be made a notifiable disease and duly quarantined. The world would be a better place.

The laundry lady is nearly done, must change. They don’t like old men in their underpants wandering through the supermarket; it scares the bakery girls.


Oh, it’s finally happened. The worries over the possible extinction of African lions have been solved.

Tourists are now only treated to coin operated models on safari.


No! And don’t ask me what he was doing in the original photo; I don’t want to even think about that! All I know is that I wouldn’t do it.

Well, Bugger Me!

That was used as an expletive, it was not an invitation!


Loteríca blindada – Armoured glass, these places get robbed regularly

Today it was raining heavily until about half an hour ago, then some respite. I decided that I should race hobble around to the Lotérica (TAB with lotto, no horses) and pay the bills. But, I procrastinated, then changed clothes and made to leave; poked my head out the door, and it was raining again… Bugger me!

So, I have changed my plans, I’ll call a taxi and go to the supermarket, which has a Lotérica next door. I have to pay the bills today, the power bill came yesterday with an expiry date tomorrow… It’s all part of the plan, hoping that many people won’t make the deadline and be lumbered with interest and a fine on next month’s bill. Great way to bleed the people.

If I go tomorrow, the queues will be huge because Brazilians always wait until the last minute, so I have to go today if I want to remain sane.



Humpday - One should never miss an opportunity

Humpday – One should never miss an opportunity

Humpday proved fatal, or at least nearly so.

The queue at the lotérica was long. Nearly an hour long.

The supermarket was expensive, and didn’t have a lot of what I wanted.

3:30 came around, headache, but went to class in the rain anyway. Got wet. Student didn’t arrive, another cancelled; I was cold and wet with a headache, I cancelled the last class and went home. I couldn’t face a two hour wait. I felt like the cat on the bottom… totally taken advantage off.

Amaretto del orso

Amaretto del orso

Whenever I go to this particular supermarket, I always take advantage of they liqueur & wine aisle. This week I bought a bottle of Amaretto del orso, that helped bump the price up a little, as did the three bottles of wine.

But I don’t mind paying, it’s all therapy, and cheaper than a therapist.

I bought some boring food as well, to help the self-esteem of my refrigerator, it was feeling empty.

Cloro is bored today, it’s raining and she cant’ go out and play. So far she has almost been successful in putting me flat on my face, she has tried digging up the carpet, shredded some papers for class, retrieved last night’s cockroach for come more fun and wondering where her meat is (the supermarket didn’t have minced beef).

She has this delightful habit of sleeping on the printer at my side. When I lie on the bed to take a nap, she wakes up, jumps from the printer to the bed to go to sleep too. It’s a bit like the old story – ‘wake up, it’s time to take your sleeping pills.’

So now I will toddle off and post some more. Still four blogs to go.



Bigger, Faster & Meaner

Bigger, meaner & faster

Bigger, meaner & faster

This is my first post today at 11:15am.

I had an early class at 8:30; the student didn’t arrive, so I needed some therapy to overcome the angst.

Yes, I went shopping!

Yes, I bought my fans. One on a column and the other table top, same brand, both 50cm. The last ones I had were 30cm & 40cm, adequate, but not hurricane-like like these ones.

Sitting here in my underpants (I know, the visual is not becoming, so don’t try) with the wind blasting my right side; and it’s only on half speed.

I fear if I put it on full, it’ll send me juddering into the kitchen. It’s going to play havoc with my coffee temperature. I’ll pour fresh coffee and before I know it, it’ll be iced coffee.

I am set for a comfortable summer.

Still headlines in the news; Prince George is going to have a private christening, how sweet? Hardly news headlines.

Now it’s Germany’s Merkle who’s got her knickers in a twist over spying on her cellphone. Both France and Germany have called for the subject to be put on the agenda for the next EU meeting. I can see the Americans getting a solid crack over the knuckles over this; and so they should.

My early evening students have just canceled, leaving one student at 7pm. It’ll be cooler then to walk to work. Now that we have entered hora da verão (daylight savings) walking to work at 5:30 is a horrid sweaty ordeal.

Oh dear, I napped under the cool breeze and forgot to post… 🙂




%d bloggers like this: