Never had door-knockers when I was young, because dad was the local Presbyterian minister - hence I can hold a pretty in-depth discussion on the Bible without even drawing breath. Arguing with the door-knockers is quite fun (especially with the Mormons), but most of the time they get a polite "not interested thanks".
One early Sunday morning door-knocker did get me out of bed looking a bit worse for wear, when I told them I wasn't interested they said "Isn't there anything in the world you 'd like to change?" I said "The number of people who knock on my bloody (actual word spoken may differ from that published here) door at 9:30 on a Sunday morning". They went away.
That song is also the genesis for "What are ya?" and its response "What are you?"
I'm sure there's an Aussie equivalent because "double overhead grease-nipples" seems to ring a bell
Almost right - it's chrome plated grease nipples and double reverse overhead twin cam door handles
It will smell of victory. Or sweat, I guess.
I thought victory smelt like napalm? Or is that just in the morning, maybe in the afternoon it smells like sweat... If so, what does it smell like by late evening?
Ah, portals - the web answer to the question of ....... well, what, actually? I've yet to use a portal-type site on a regular basis.
If you really want to terrorise the opposition, you should be coming out to this (or in fact anything by Wold)
Flat Earth News by Nick Davies
A former Guardian journalist and columnist deconstructs the newspaper industry to explain why we're all so hideously uninformed by modern journalism and newspapers. Bloody good read, and should be compulsory for Journalism schools and media studies departments everywhere. Mostly applicable to the UK and the US, but I can see similarities here in New Zealand with the enormous growth in reporting and the subsequent reduction in journalism.
Waiuku College, late 70s, south of Auckland. Wagging.
And being terrified of authority and a bit of a goodie-goodie, I only did it once. I was accredited in the 6th form, but we still had to come to school every day during the exams that we didn't have to sit. After the first two days of doing nothing and generally being bored shitless, about 10 of us (3 or 4 who had been accredited, the others who hadn't but weren't sitting the exams either) took off to the beach for the day.
Next day the 3 or 4 of us who had been accredited were hauled in front of the deputy principal and castigated for not being at school, while the others got off scot-free. Not that I have a chip on my shoulder, or can remember the complete details to this day, oh no..... it was just the injustice of being singled out - I don;t think they really cared what the kids who weren't sitting exams because they knew they were going to fail anyway did, they were more concerned about the so-called "good" kids being seen misbehaving.
The Press has picked up where the Herald may have remained silent - a few choice quotes from their editorial this morning if anyone was evr in any doubt as to where their sympathies lie:
Some of its rapid action is partly motivated by a desire to try to make up for what it rightly called in the Speech from the Throne Labour's "decade of missed opportunities".
...the sea of red ink in the Government accounts that Labour has left for the new administration to cope with.
And the rest of it is basically a puff-piece for the 90-day "trial period" as it calls it. Apparently it will encourage employers to hire those at the bottom of the employment heap, rather than those who can, you know, actually do the job?
Do I win?
You win today's star prize, the blow on the head.
And attractive and intelligent women dating dickheads wasn't unique to university, I used to think most women were dating dickheads (was primarily because they weren't dating me). The thought that quite possibly I was a dickhead at that age didn't occur to me until much later......