donderdag 28 mei 2009

Tony the Boy-Racer and other oddities

Although 20,000 kilometers away from grandson Tony in Wellington NZ, the internet brings us all together in nanoseconds. Bernadet has a news-feed to report any page that contains the word 'Sprenkeling'. Most of it is totally irrelevent, but the occasional gem comes whizzing into the inbox like the whizziest thing that ever whizzed. So are we confronted with the following article from down under:
http://www.stuff.co.nz/dominion-post/news/politics/2450417/Boy-racers-defiant-in-face-of-law/

Boy racers? Defiant in the face of the law? Transport them I say to the Antipodes, were they not already there. And whose face is this amongst the Times New Roman? Why, its my very own dear little grandson, he of the cool demeanour, and the cool arse, since his personal fashion statement is to wear his trousers so low that only the trouser-legs have function.
That's a cool pose, young Tony! I especially go for the leather and the hat! Oh, to be young again! It is mostl likely that the reporters sought a pair of cool dudes to garnish the article, young lads who had nothing to with this 'defiance in the face of the law', but were on their way to a Bible Class, and their message of universal religion about Christ and the Krishna has been cruelly transposed into one about Christine the Crusher.

Tony 'Bonus' Sprenkeling: 'I was on my way to Church'
I read all the comments in the article under the link. By the cringe, there are some rednecks in NZ!

"Burn them, they're witches!" "Put them in the crusher along with their monstrous cars!" And how about the one that said "Well no complaints if they do show off their souped up cars since I guess there is a law against them showing off their small willies".

A law against showing off small willies? Goodness me, I'm a criminal! I hope your car didn't get into Christine's gentle embrace, and I do hope that I am not getting you into trouble by taking the piss out of all this and your parents don't know anything about your other self. As I said, I wish I were young again. My teenage years including racing motorbikes around a disused airfield, but never on the public road. It all ended when one of us got very badly hurt, almost killed. It was all a bit surreal and James Dean. I'm not sure what 'cruising' is, but if it's just strutting on wheels, then what's the big deal. It's part of the culture of youth. You've got the rest of your life to grow up and grow old. I know. I never really grew up, and I've been young many times. Nothing to beat it. Except Christine.

Tony's car getting the dents corrected by Christine?

By the way, I noticed that the hit-counter had gone up recently. Statcounter allows you to look at information about visitors to your site. It does not tell you who they are, just which city and country. But it does tell you what they were looking for in Google in order to to be directed to this blog. I was intrigued to know what on earth led them here. I am ashamed to report the two phrases that accounted for 28 hits between them. The first was 'Gyrating Pussy'. I can accept the validity of checking out WendyWhoppers.com or HooterHeaven.org, but who on earth deliberately wants information about 'Gyrating Pussy'? that's really offside!

I also wrote in the previous entry about a plump girl in the Nova College who sneezed all over her screen. 14 people arrived and were disappointed with the story. They were looking for 'plump schoolgirls'. A gentleman in Saudi Arabia went even further. He was very unlucky to find me. He was looking for 'plump, wet schoolgirls'. Or perhaps I saved his life. I can imagine the severe Imam in an Islamic court asking Achmed to explain the entry on his laptop in which he requests such information. Looking at Rude Ladies is forbidden in Saudi Arabia. Achmed simply replies that it is a coded search to find out about higher education facilities in Holland. See for yourself, Your Imamishness. Oh, sorry Achmed, carry on. Now, says Achmed, I wish to research plain cakes in the Christian West, without icing or chocolate adornment. 'Topless Tarts' should do it. He'll probably have to explain why he wants trunnion-mounted ball valves. We've got those as well, but now we also have Rubber Flapper, Tilting Disc, Foot, Globe & Swing Check Valves.

The following is an experiment. Please ignore. I want Ad-Sense to get off Ball Valves and on to something else. How about Dog Food? Rattle on about dog food for a bit and see if the experiment works. My dog, which I haven't got, likes food, particularly dog food. O yes, very fond of dog food is my dog, dog food being his favorite food, what with him being a dog and all, so dog food would seem to be a wise choice for a dog needing food. Dog food? I only have to mention dog food and my dogs thinks dog food is just the food for a dog like me, and all my dog friends like dog food as well. Dog food is just the thing for us as well they, cry, bring on the dog food. Nothing like dog food for a hungry dog, oh my goodness me, all those chunky lumps of dog food in a nourishing dog food jelly. When it's time for dog food, all my doggy friends chant 'dog food, dog food, dog food' over and over again, 'dog food, dog food, dog food' they go, repeating themselves as if dog food and yet more dog food was the only thing on their minds. Apart from even more dog food.

See you, love you and take it easy. I do.

dinsdag 26 mei 2009

Tales of the Open Learning Centre

Maria chapel Heiloo
Dear All. Things have slowed down a bit in the blog department. Along with the sad businees of Irene, there are three ex-colleagues now in various stages of cancer, all terminal. It has been difficult to think of much else lately. Fortunately Irene shows signs of improvement. The long-term prospects are not clear, but at least she has less pain. She is also enjoying the visits of family from Holland. Tineke and Bernadet went first, followed by Opa and Carolien. Carolien returned to NZ and Opa remained. He will stay as long as he can, a maximum of three months on his visa. Before Opa went, he took part in a marathon candle-burning event. People come in one after another to keep a chain going. The candles burn for about 9 days. This attracted the attention of KRO TV who made a program about people who burn candles in this chapel and what the background is to their stories. I shall include a link of any one is interested. Kees has been in Arizona for two weeks and returns today. There will be a break in the chemo treatment in a month or two and it is hoped that things can be arranged to bring Irene to Holland. We are looking at the possibility of setting up a building somewhere on the farm. She prefers to be alone but close to family and help. Anyway, it's looking better for her than it did a while ago.

My job, alas, will probably go at the end of this term. Economics determine that the last in will be the first out. I shall miss the place and the students. And the money! Everything is going well, although I have had some difficult situations to deal with. There are about some 50 computers in a small space, and it is important that people don't disturb each other. I turn a blind eye to soft music, MSN, Hyves etc, prefering to hand out headphones to miscreants rather than ban them. My rule is that you can waste your own time but not that of another. Last week I had to throw out two girls who were fighting. Not with teeth and claws as would be expected in a catfight, but with scarves with knobbly knots tied in them. Stools and vases went flying, but your hero is not afraid of girls and they were ejected. I recently had my first real confronation with boys. Most of the students are girls, but there a few young men between 17 and 20 years old. Some are large and full of themselves, swaggering in with hands in pockets, putting thier feet on the keyboard, turning up the music and pulling gigling schoolgirls onto thier laps. I always dread these occasions. I am not allowed to take action but am instructed to call the class teacher. I have never done this as I would lose all respect from the students. On this occasion a neanderthal with a baseball cap back-to front kept turning up the music, despite my diplomatic pleading and grovelling. I lost my temper, went up behind him and shouted 'OFF'. The room entered stunned silence mode. The monstrous youth and I eyeballed each other for a while, each daring the other to blink, and then he said, softly. 'Make me'. O my God, what now? I have no alternative plan. But I am now looking as fierce as a lion and as steady as rock, not the slightest tremor, but this is because I have concentrated all my physical and mental powers toward my buttocks which would need a crowbar to separate them. 'Make me' he said again, and leaned back on his chair with hands behind his head, the ultimate Mr Cool. Girls are tittering nervously. I am undone. I shall never be able to come into this room again. I am to be humiliated before all. I shall escape with a 'Goodness me, is that the time?' sort of tactic. Then my eye falls on the power cable. Without losing eye-contact, I reach out and pull the plug on his computer and the screen plops and the music stops. Gasps. Then his cronies begin to laugh, tension evaporates and the day is won. Later, on the way to my car, I run a gauntlet of 'OFF, OFF, OFF' but it is not unfriendly. A good day. Sometimes it is not busy in the OLC. I cannot see into both rooms but I knew there was only one girl there, a very plump girl with pebble glasses and the sniffles. As she breathed, one could hear fluids being blown down towards the nostils to form bubbles only to be drawn back up by a monstrous wet snort. I was about to leave my desk to bring her a roll of kitchen paper when there was there was an an enromous liquid sneeze followed by groaning. I went to see if she was alright, and found her looking at the screen which was glazed in snot in subtle variations of hue and opacity that was slowly drifting downwards. She stared at the screen for a few moments, until stimulated by my suggestion that she could perhaps clean it up she began to wipe it with the edge of her hand from right to left, much as one would clean a window with one of those little rubber squeegee things. She only manged to push waves of snot to the left where it slid more quickly down the screen owing to the increase in thickness and the pull of gravity towards the centre of the earth. What was left on the warm screen, a thin layer like a polythene bag, dried out and became quite opaque. I was feeling ill by now, and told her to use another computer. I could see that not only would I have to deal with coagulating but still liquid snot dripping down the screen, I would need to pick off the dried snotty film. Hopefully it would all come off in one layer like that stuff that protects the screens of new mobile phones. I went to get Kleenex and Ajax. When I came back, she was still typing, saying that she had to log off to use another computer. Her fingers were wet and slimy. I wondered if we had anything to get mucus off keyboards, and especiallyfrom between the keys. I would have to prise them all off with a screw-driver and clean them individually. I hope the G doesn't go back where the H was. Later, I heard another massive blubbery sneeze. By the time I got to the other room, the girl had collected all her stuff and was leaving. She was the only one in the room. The only lit-up screen looked as if it had suffered from a mollusc stampede. I said 'what about the terminal?. She looked surpised and said she didn't know nothing about that, mister. Must have been some other fat girl who snuk in, sneezed snot, sniffled and snuk out again. Where's the bucket. I leave you with some of my drawings that try to get the kids to clean up the mess and not leave it all to me.

There is a pakistani cleaning lady but she is not very good and I have a lot of sympathy for her because she does not have much time to clean so many rooms and she gets a lot of complaints and her boss shouts at her. She cannot understand him because she doesn't speak Dutch. I clean up and make sure that it is all perfect before she starts and her boss has no complaints about this room. One night the inspection was early and I still had the broom and bucket in my hand. The Commander of All The Cleaners asked if I was a new one and not to waste Vim or take dusters home and not to stand there like a loon which is not what was paid for but I was to get on with it, chop chop, if I knew what was good for me. Bloody foreigners. The pakistani lady has learned one Dutch word. She can say 'thankyou'.

I leave you with some photos of my favorite tough guys, the two lads doing the midwife course. I think it is brilliant that boys like this want to learn how to help women give birth and how to bath babies.
And that while all thier mates are doing the Motor Mechanics or the Electrical Engineers course. No money for guessing where I think the real men are. When they leave here I will send them T-shirts with a slogan such as 'Macho Midmen', 'Let me hold you, Baby' or some such nonsense. Any suggestions?

By the way, the piece before this was all about Ball Valves. Google Ad-sense tailors the ads to the blog. Now ALL the ads are about Ball Valves. I have power over the ads that appear in this blog. It's a good job that the Ball Valves artikel appeared so soon after Amazing Gyrating Pussy. who knows what disreputable and tasteless purveyors would seek to sully this pristine blog with thier wares.

Stef and Sara - please arrange some Skype time! Love you all
Take care.

maandag 11 mei 2009

Ball Valve Bonanza

We are off steel balls, we are now onto Ball Valves. Google Ad-sense has spoken, and I followed the link and was amazed! I came into the world of Modentic Ball Valves of Taiwan and read the splash headline
HOT News: Modentic model HPV-40FS/41FS/43FS passed API607 5th fire safe testing!!!!!!!

Hot news indeed, I hear you all gasp as one man. Not only that, but Modenic also make metal-seated ball valves, forged ball valves, sanitary ball valves, flanged ball valves, trunnion-mounted ball valves, high-pressure ball valves, globe ball valves, gate ball valves, multi-port ball valves, v-flow ball valves, strainers, and last but not least, synchronous needle valves.

Well! With all this expertise to dazzle the gawping millions, and advertised on my blog, my google Ad-Sense account would surely be bursting at the gussets. I went gleeflully to check. And found:-

Paginavertoningen Aantal klikken Pagina-CTR Pagina eCPMOpbrengsten
10254,90%€ 6,80€ 0,69

Totale opbrengst € 0,69

Come on folks, help me out! Just buy a few Multi-port ball valves or a bucket of strainers. you never know when you might need one. Be safe, don't get caught out. 69 cents in 3 months is not going to get me that swimming-pool we talked about.

A more sensible blog entry will follow this one, or, since they appear in reverse order of input, will precede this one. Love you all.