Tuesday, July 12, 2011

A WHITER SHADE OF PALE..
(begun Tuesday 12th July at 2.20am..)

Turns out the Foul Weed is to be the first casualty in our rapidly approaching slide to penury, and my mouth opened and closed like a fish when he told me, but I've no defence...
Sure, it's a filthy, anti-social and self-destructive habit, that's cost now has it firmly in the luxury bracket, and I could give it up tomorrow if I wanted to, but....
There's the bloody catch see... I'm well aware that it's a crutch, and if like Lazarus (no, not you dear), I chose to cast it aside and manage without, I'd be fine.. OTOH,  to be told summarily that I'm to give it up, has me bristling with outrage....*falls over snorting..
A battle at the Bickerson's bungalow?

Can I strike a deal?  I'll make a real effort to cut down, if he'll stop shopping for food at Woolworth's.. Ag, I'm grasping at straws here, and one of us is going to have to face up to reality soon...
He has no plans in place for our senile years, and I assume that like so many pensioners, he vaguely hopes to drift off for good in his sleep, before Sutcliffe finally sucks the very roof off from over his head.. *blinks..
I should get off my wrinkled arse and do something?  Like what?  Big Ears will happily tell you that these days when my mouth opens, the GW's remaining good ear closes, so discussing the situation rationally isn't on the cards...

It must have been about 1.30am when I surfaced enough to realise that it was my right hip aching so badly for a change.. I sat up on Cloud 9 and a sharp pain stabbed in my head... Not personal attacks at all, but simply unfortunate that I sleep directly in line of sight to the power coming off the mini base station?  You believe that?  Really?

LATER at 3.10am

I remember checking the iBurst signal quality as I was updating my blog just after 1pm yesterday, and finding it had gone back to behaving badly..
Surely if Ian Halliday signed a deal with Jannie van Zyl that our tradepage paid-for service was in fact to be delivered via a proxy server, the least we could expect was a decent signal FFS?
When I logged on again last night the signal quality bounced about wildly for the entire session, including dropping right down to 60% while browsing on mybroadband...*gags...
Considering where we're situated, almost within a stone's throw from a wireless mini base station, the 100% signal quality we usually get, should be a matter of course?
The Kaspersky icon kicked in irritably a few times, but I guess the most interesting thing was the harddrive light going absolutely nuts for pretty much the entire time I was online...

Would Ian Halliday be offended were he to read that I accuse him of colluding with Telkom to hijack the service my husband pays tradepage to provide?
Would Mr. Halliday mutter in his defence that there are Government Agencies involved and it's out of his hands?
Did Mr. Halliday ever request that he be shown some sort of official warrant providing permission for this corruption to take place?  If Mr. Halliday did indeed sanction the erection of as many as 50 illegal iBurst masts, why would I trust him to give me a straight answer on the matter of who exactly is our ISP?

Karl Muller had been back on the Cellphone Radiation Killing you thread at mybroadband yesterday, as he hammered his point home...
Did you check out the pictures he posted?  You think they were bad? Then you certainly don't want to see Millie the Gross... Nowhere near as lethal as that graphic breast cancer, yet ten times more visually repulsive, and only myself to blame, tra-la....

Has the Principal been following Karl Mullers' posts on the Cellphone Radiation thread? They should be easy enough to find, and may yet give him some food for thought?  How's about our Activist?  No time?  Too busy promising to arrange to have trees felled in order to improve the Metro-Connect signal, go go read up on what it is that you're promoting?
Go digest the Rocket Scientist, Karl Muller's words on that thread, from start to finish, and then tell me you're not appalled by how you've all been conned...
 Dozens and dozens of really good people, hoodwinked into believing that the Metro-Connect technology will save the country, when it's being operated here in the Zone by criminals, FOR the benefit of criminals...

Habla espanol, Mac?  Our loss is to be Spain's gain? It's going to be quiet without you at durbanite, but hey, good luck with the move, and be kind to your missus.... *waves..

You'll be happy to hear that my Good Neighbour is out of hospital, and like some crazy wind-up action figure, he's already back at work in his yard, albeit with only one arm... It just shows you can't keep a good man down...
Right - It's now 4am, and I'm going to go give Cloud 9 another try.. With any luck the Sick Bastard may be preoccupied with another of his victims, or even catching a few zz's himself... cheers...

LATER at 11.10am

I'd been sat here on the verandah for about ten minutes when the BackFire took off, and I also acquired a nasty earache in both ears... The Poor Fellow clearly has nothing better to do than baby-sit the kids today, and he's feeling unappreciated...
Anyone bother to check out my claims on the extreme levels of EMR down at uShaka last Thursday? Were you easily fobbed off by our Area Controller insisting it was simply part of the day's exercise, as he and his keen colleagues bounced merrily after us, increasing the signal hugely as they went?
Will he swear they don't normally activate so much crap in the area, and that they restrict themselves to abusing the system only on the odd occasion that one of their Test Dummies heads down to the beach? Now doesn't that reassure you all?  *eyeroll...
I'll say it again - If Colin P. Balliram is among the best Controllers available, we are more than in the dwang, and that certainly includes you...
I defy you to find someone who cares less about his fellow-man, and more about his own image and self-satisfaction...
Traits that fitted Telkom's criteria for Monitors to a T, but that have led, I'm hoping, to more than a few spectators reconsidering their attitude to the fantabulous Metro Connect Master Plan...

LATER at 12.15pm

The BushDweller that was flushed out by the bike rider last Sunday is a hireling after all, as he slips easily into the role of countless droogs before him..  He stepped out from behind a tree not ten minutes earlier, having pulled his crimson 'You can't miss me' t-shirt over another, and strolled ostentatiously through the gumtrees towards the Recreation Centre..
Had I forgotten there was a path down the edge of the bluff which the DrugBoyz used to use regularly to reach their nest behind the stormwater drain manhole below our wall?  I hadn't...
Will he shed his easily spotted red shirt behind a bush and make his way down the steep slope wearing more muted colours...? *yawns...

At 12.25pm I looked up in time to see that two different and considerably paler young men had beaten the droog to the manhole, as they stepped out of the bush and peered straight in my direction... I waved cheerfully....  Were they that startled by my Fugliness as they broke from their cover to find me gazing at them?  *grins...
An enormous cream butterfly darted erratically through the valley and the dog pricked up her ears suddenly, at what?  Could she sense the little gathering at the bottom of the valley? 
I felt Balliram's painfully increased attentions and wondered what mischief he was up to as he lurks nearby, grumpily doing guard-duty (which clever Missus C will have reminded him looks good on his fake character reference.. Sort of like an ordinary family man...*chokes...)

LATER at 2.45pm

I just stepped out of the front door to look for Sophie, whereupon our newest would-be Thespian took it as his cue to glide from behind one gum tree to the next... This time he's performing his piece in a dark top and cap, and there's no sign of his bright red t-shirt.. A routine that's surely been done to death, but one that's likely to continue ad nauseum, in order to amuse the dark forces... *chortles...
Peace..

---oOo---

Tuesday 12th July 2011 at 3.43pm.