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Friday, June 19, 2009

IPSWICH: “Granted, Godwin Grech does resemble Gollum, but heck, he doesn’t really live ten floors beneath Treasury, does he?” asks Payton L. Inkletter


Be all that as it may, meanwhile:


In other news…

19th June 2009:


Friday: …with an effort of will I clung to the crusted film of precipitate of my sanity in the sunbaked bowl of my mind after the Bill Gates episode of my XP mega freeze of paralysis. Hate your work Bill; may you have to spend a goodly portion of eternity fixing the shit you sold as operating systems at highly inflated prices here on Earth! As dawn broke the front that was forecast began to let its presence be known, and before the morning was very old very strong winds were howling around the house, with some showers to sweeten the mix. I returned to the computer and worked again on the new blog page, realising that I was not fit to take Bob swimming today, not having slept, so I phoned him and spoke also to Richard his social trainer, arranging for Monday instead. This saved me leaving when a wild storm was raging, which I never like doing for two reasons: there is great value in being at home in case of storm damage, and the roads are so much more dangerous.


Before I knew what was what, it was almost one o’clock again, and I was tucked into bed by the cuddly chameleon, there to fall gladly into Mistress Nodette’s arms and charms… My alarm rudely awoke me at a quarter to eight, having mis-set it by one hour too late, and I got up to an empty home, for my wife of 27 years had left me… planning to return about half nine.


So I caught The Collectors after the tail end of an interview with our Premier Colin Barnett on Stateline, and then settled in with a big mug of tea – three teabags (Nerada, good Aussie brew, gggrrrrhhh!) – with the bags left in, sucked afterwards (as I intimated, I’m tough) to watch the compelling SBS series ‘World War II – Behind Closed Doors’ under the ‘As it Happened’ umbrella. My word what good likenesses they got for Stalin, Roosevelt, Churchill; and how good it is that interviews with some of those who were there have been recorded.


I stayed on to watch SBS late news, and eat my tuck tucks left for me by the lovely lushburger, who, by the way, got home before ten; she had been to a Latter Day Quaints International Dinner at the Ballajura Chapel, the invitation from the other evening when I ran away to this computer to write when I heard the tell-tale door knock. She really enjoyed it, and the entertainment the church members put on was excellent. She caught up with a number of her long term acquaintances, most of who commented upon how good she’s looking, thanks to the net benefits of the Byetta drug she’s been taking now for maybe 8 months.


We yabbered for a while, then I did a quick burst of writing at the computer, before rejoining the frilly knickered lizard to watch Lateline, I having accepted a moccers coffee from the beauteous girl buffalo heifer. The (Leigh) sales graph: again, Ms Sales looked great, for her weekly wind up on the political, the social, the trouble. Keep the eye make-up subtle, like these last two nights Leigh! Lindsay Tanner squared off with Tony Abbott for tonight’s political biffo, two old tomcats who’ve done it all many times. The Ozcar story was boring the day it was first aired this week, for it was already old news, and the Opposition is hammering it for all its worth, which might be very little, who knows?: but thank god for today’s bonus in interest level, when one senior Treasury official, Godwin Grech, emerged from about ten floors below the basement of the Treasury Department in Langton Crescent, where he obviously works, eats, and sleeps, to answer questions about whether there were favours or not sought for Ipswich car dealer John Grant; now and then fabulously humorous events, situations, people appear on the current stage of public attention, and Godwin Grech would surely have to be one of them: and if he isn’t almost a dead ringer for Gollum, then he is a near perfect caricature of the subterranean denizen, don’t you agree? And could you have chosen a more fitting name if you tried?


And I got my treat of the weekly wrap up of matters economic with Stephen Long’s reconnoitre into Ultimo: I always learn something sensible from his opinions, and it is a joy to experience the wonderful chemistry between Ms Sales and Mr Long. Plus I got my final treat of Stephen’s inimitable sign-off smile. (And his curly locks had been nicely straightened out from the inevitable tussling his mum must have given it again today.)


Letterman’s highlight was Danny DeVito, and that scorpion story was a hoot. DeVito is a bit of a deadly scorpion whisperer it would seem, if he wasn’t making it up. Bear Grylls’ account of his injury in Antarctica was a bit gripping, and I’m glad it was he and not me; also, it was nice to hear that his experience in the wild with Will Ferrell was so positive.


I put the wingeing keel to bed, then tackled trying to rewrite the many words I lost into nothingness last night due the XP freeze paralysis spac attack, and ended up spending the entire night at the keyboard, apart from a few breaks, for the sake of ergonomics, in the kitchen doing a big clean up in instalments, and when dawn arrived I went out the back to learn that all the wind and storm kerfuffle of the past two days might have delivered a meagre 10 mm if we’re lucky. I fed scraps to the worm farms, and dealt with the usual health issues, before a nice long hot shower…

+paytontedwithlove+

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