Poor choice of Word – 3

18 Jun

Much of NZ was in grief at the death of our rugby star, Jerry Collins.

On the evening following the funeral, which was being covered by all news media, during the news program at six o’clock on TVone the reporter made an unfortunate blooper…

“…and as his carcass-[face in shock]-casket was carried …”

OMG.
Needless to say, in the late evening news, another clip was found to air.
I wonder if the TVone on air (ie via internet) showed the News programme, because I know NZers will not believe me, and want to check.

21 House-hold Cost Cutters

13 Jun

21 Household Cost-Cutters

  1. Budget, budget, budget
  2. Allow your children to learn–let them see the budget, till runners, household bank statements, the bills and paying them, parents discussing the monthly household running costs
  3. Buy long-store consumables in bulk for discount–but not if they require refrigeration or freezer costs to keep
  4. Eat healthily–reduce illnesses and doctors’ and prescription fees
  5. Everyone exercises–(walking or cycling, sport, gardening, a recreational activity) to avoid bad muscle tone and health conditions, and avoid gym costs
  6. Keep the children’s allowances low–open a savings account for each one
  7. All boarders pay for their keep—even your children after leaving school
  8. VOIP—do away with that telephone bill each month
  9. Combine gas and electricity providers—possible dual fuel discounts
  10. Internet banking—pay an estimated “half” of the bill a fortnight before the complete amount is due
  11. AutoPay—avoid late fees
  12. Grow your own fruit and vegetables–organic is cheaper than chemical gardening
  13. Search for bargains on essentials–online or in catalogues
  14. Forget fashion–practical is longer lasting
  15. Everyone in the house learns basic clothing care and repair–even makeover dressmaking
  16. Buy on LayBy–get what you want without any price hikes while it waits until you have all the money saved
    • Chart children’s LayBy payments so they see how many more payments to go.
  17. Pay off the highest interest credit card or overdraft first–no matter what
  18. Call your credit card supplier and arrange a temporary spending block on it–ensure it’s Your choice when to unblock it
    • As the balance drops, arrange for a reduction in the allowed overdraft
  19. Learn to do without–especially it’s not within your budget
  20. Get rid of the DVD player and the DVD hire card
    • Prefer reading – the library is free
  21. Sell redundant kitchen gadgets–they use $$ to run them, whereas hand equipment is cheaper to buy and free to use

ME and AC/DC

27 May

In 2012, on a blogging group (blogster? multiply?) we were challenged to pick our favourite music performer/group, and use their titles to reveal something about ourselves. This is that post, revived…

Are you male or female: GIRL’S GOT RHYTHM

Describe yourself: PROBLEM CHILD

How do you feel: SHOT DOWN IN FLAMES

Describe where you currently live:  SIN CITY

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: HELL AIN’T A BAD PLACE TO BE

Your favourite form of transportation: HIGHWAY TO HELL

Your best friend is: RIFF RAFF

Your favourite colour is: BACK IN BLACK

What’s the weather like: THUNDERSTRUCK

Favourite time of day: You Shook Me ALL NIGHT LONG

If your life was a tv. show: SHOW BUSINESS

What is life to you: FLING THING

Your current relationship: DOG EAT DOG

Breaking up: BABY PLEASE DON’T GO

Looking for: FOR THOSE ABOUT TO ROCK

Wouldn’t mind: LET’S GET IT UP

Your fear: T.N.T.

What is the best advice you have to give: ROCK AND ROLL AIN’T NOISE POLLUTION

If you could change your name you would change it to: WHOLE LOTTA ROSIE

Thought for the day: MONEY TALKS

How would you like to die: SHOT DOWN IN FLAMES or FLICK OF THE SWITCH

My motto: IF YOU WANT BLOOD, YOU’VE GOT IT

Quote

Poor Choice of Words (2)

27 Apr

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Ring of Fire.”

If my memory serves me correctly, I can only offer as a response to this day’s prompt with the following.
The reason it is my only response is, when I heard of this,
I laughed so hard it has burned into my memory and blocks any other possibility.

______________________________________________

The estate of Johnny Cash turned down a request from an advertising company
to use one of my personal favourites of his recordings,
“Ring Of Fire”, in an advertising campaign.

The product to be advertised?

A haemorrhoid cream!

Poor Choice of Words (1 of a possible series)

25 Apr

I spotted a gaffe like this in today’s newspaper. It reminded me of this one. As I (at the moment) can’t be bothered getting up and re-finding today’s gaffe, I’m posting this now, and will follow up with today’s one later on. In the meantime…

On Sunday November 9, 2014, Rotorua’s Daily Post newspaper and the NZ Herald both carried this story:

Girl Suffers Serious Injuries After Being Kicked by a Horse
An 8-year old girl in Tauranga who received serious head injuries after being kicked in the head by a horse underwent surgery at Starship Hospital.

A Starship Hospital spokesman said on Sunday the girl was in a stable condition.

(Wonder how her parents felt on reading that.)

How to “Burn” Your Hubby*

24 Apr 1 ready for food to be added

* and destroy kitchen equipment.

A five-part series of instructions…with notes and photographs of evidence

How to “Burn” Hubby p’t 1

  1. Decide to assist in preparing for cooking the evening meal
  2. Choose to prep for cooking the quickest vege option—frozen mixed vegetables
  3. Prep the Pyrex jug
  4. Prep the wax paper ready to be used to cover the veges.
  5. Tear off the roll a square of waxed paper, fold it in four—wax surface inside
  6. Mould it over the base of the jug

1 mould  the wax paper 1 ready for food to be added

7. Place it inside the jug, ready for veges to be added. Place in obvious sight.

How to “Burn” Hubby p’t 2

Leave hubbby to the cooking.

How to “Burn” Hubby p’t 3

  1. Hear hubby rage: “[expletive]! It’s burning!”
  2. Watch hubby burn hand as throws open the microwave door and grabs the smoking jug’s handle
  3. Wait as he waits for it to cool
  4. Watch hubby as he lifts the jug—and the microwave dish is stuck to it.
  5. Watch as he places them onto the plastic cutting board.
  6. Notice the burnt wax paper
  7. Notice he’s right – no veges had been added
  8. Listen to him blaming you for leaving the paper in the jug as if the veges were in there already.
  9. Refrain from pointing out he could have checked, or noticed the light weight of the empty jug.
  10. Decide to eat the meat and potatoes.

How to “Burn” Hubby p’t 4

  1. Listen to the “crackle” as the cooling glass cracks.
  2. Watch hubby struggle to separate the jug from the microwave dish
  3. Watch hubby as he forces to separate the microwave dish from the plastic cutting board
  4. Tell hubby you’re going to take photographs and blog all the instructions, with illustrations
  5. Wait until he’s gone out for a walk and take photographs

Below and right, burnt wax paper, melted Pyrex jug

3 after cooking non-existent food 4 wax paper and jug

Below and right — close up of the melted, crazed Pyrex,
and its size can be seen under the right pic of its off-balanced effect

5 base of jug 6 bubble on the bottom

Below, the melted dimple where hubby placed the lot to cool down.
Below right, the melted dimple in the microwave dish

7 plastic chopping board 8 microwave dish

Close up of the microwave’s new dimple

8a dimple in the dish

Post-event review next morning

  • The “half-bubble”, concave dimple in the dish is cracked—“work-around” until replacement found?
  • Place an inverted pyrex casserole dish upside down over the turnatble centre. Back to stirring and turning over food while cooking.
  • The jug’s swollen crackled “bubble” has crumbled. Jug totally “expletive”
  • The cutting board is “expletive”.
  • Buy replacement turntable dish online and await delivery

How to “Burn” Hubby p’t 5

  1. Blog it, with illustrations.
  2. Include in the blog a Poll “Whose fault was it?”

_____________________________________________________________

A:         Your’s — you should have left the jug with the paper cover beside it.

B:         Hubby’s — he should have checked before he baked it all
_____________________________________________________________

Readers are welcome to respond ‘A’ or ‘B’ as a Comment.

Commended entry to Mapua Literary Festival short story competition

6 Apr

The Moon Disappeared Behind Dark Clouds

{This sentence was required within the story}

The moon disappeared behind dark clouds, leaving the campsite and campers blind–if they’d been awake. Their campfire had been extinguished when they’d been sent to bed. Bringing flashlights, candles or matches had been forbidden, for this was a Teen Intervention camp, three days walk from the nearest highway, along a dusty, gravelly track.
Seven tents had been pitched in a horseshoe-shape, and numbered from the eastern end around to the western, one to seven. Two strangers to each tent, with the Leader Robert D Raingier (pronounced as “Raing-ee-ay” he had emphasized) in tent four at centre of the U. Once Police Special Ops, demoted to Public Service and the beat, he never revealed he had been retired early. His late career expertise with disaffected youth gave him the cred for running this programme for teen shop-lifters, serial home runaways, drug and alcohol abusers … and those who’d learned the best form of defence was attack.
Within the six teens’ tents, all were asleep–oblivious to the blackness outside. Mr Raingier was not–he was lying belly down on his cot facing the pinned-back flap and its opening. Without shifting his stare through the doorway, he reached under the cot and took hold of his night-vision goggles. Putting them on, he’d be able to see if any left their tent, or lit up inside it.
A-hah! In tent seven, a flick of a lighter gave a quick spark and blacked out again.
Inside the tent, two watchful boys were sitting on their cots facing each other. One, Dobbo, was fumbling blindly down in the foot of his sleeping bag, for his pack of fags.
“Don’t light that again!” He hissed, not realising a hiss travels more clearly than does a whisper or even a mutter.
“But can you find them?” His mate Frank was desperate or a smoke.
“Makes no damn difference whether you flick that bloody lighter or not, idiot! It ain’t gonna shine down inter the bag, is it! Ah, gottem.”
“Got what, boys? Tobacco? Mary-jane?” Raingier’s voice was a deathly quiet murmur “Come on out, you hear? And bring it with you. Now.”.
The lads stooped to get through the low entrance, and meekly handed over the lighter and smokes.
“Follow me.”
The boys heard him move away, and stumbled after him, wondering how his step was so silent and confident, whereas they could not see a foot in front of themselves. If they made any sound after tripping, slithering down the slight slope or banging into anything, his quiet voice made a quick “Fft”.
When he stopped they bumped into him and each other. He made no sound to indicate their noise mattered now, and time had passed enough that Dobbo and Frank knew the hollow they were in was some distance from the campsite.
“Don’t move from there.” Raingier moved off some distance by the sounds they heard of a lockbox being opened, things lifted out, and the lid closed again. They both nearly jumped when his next words came, so suddenly close to them again.
“You–this way”
Dobbo found his arm in a vice-like grip. Raingier drew him away from Frank, and suddenly slammed his back against a trunk–rough bark dug into his skin through his light cotton shirt. Suddenly his arms were behind him around the tree, and the rip of a zip-tie slammed his wrists together.
“Dobbo? What was that? You awrigh’?” Frank heard no reply–Dobbo’s mouth was full of peanut butter sandwich with duct tape sealing his lips. “Gawd aw’mighty! You scared me then, ‘Mr Ranger, Sir’!”
Raingier, his arm now with a tight grip on Frank’s arm, said nothing–infuriated as the quotation from the cartoon Yogi Bear always made him feel. He dragged Frank in the opposite direction, still in this blind hollow, but farther from Dobbo. He tied Frank to a trunk, stuffed his mouth with a sandwich and taped it shut before Frank could blink.
The boys heard his near silent tread leaving them alone in the black. Although each writhed to pull their wrists from the zip-locks, they only succeeded in drawing the bindings tighter into their skin. Dobbo realised his skin had been split when he felt blood dripping down his palm, and immediately stopped struggling. He hoped Frank would wake up and not struggle too.
High overhead, a sky breeze scudded clouds away from the moon, just long enough for the boys to be able to glimpse each other across the clearing in the base of the hollow, and to realise they couldn’t see over the top of the slope enclosing them. They imagined each other’s state, having only a dim sight of eyebrows and wide eyes. This was not good, they knew.
– – –
Jacinda in that same momentary gleam caught sight of Raingier walking towards the camp, scanning each tent. She shrank back, seeing his night goggles. Raingier, satisfied none of the teens were awake, slipped into his tent. In moments he was snoring. She sneaked out of her tent and into his–and within a minute had found and lifted his night goggles. Outside, the clouds re-covered the moon. With the goggles on, she headed out in the direction Raingier had come. She had street-sharpened instincts, and glancing from side to side caught a broken branchlet here, a skid there, and before long was standing on the edge of the hollow.

She half walked, half slid down. Knifing through zip-locks, ripping off duct tape, she stepped back as the remaining moosh of the sandwich gag was choked out.
“Jaysis, guys, what the hell was this?”
“Raingier caught us–smokes and lighter.” Frank glanced around, hoping Raingier was well away.
“Relax, he’s snoring like a pig. Jaysis–if this is for smokes, what if he found me knife!”
In another brief moment of light, they saw her eyes slit.
“Don’t worry guys–this won’t happen again…”

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