My personal trainer.......

Every so often I like to go for a walk through my neighbourhood.

Everytime I go on a walk though I almost always have some uninvited company. A dog, I couldn't even tell you what breed it is but it is pretty big with long shaggy hair. He (or she? I don't even know that) seems to come out of nowhere and starts walking behind me. Doesn't rush up to me looking for affection or even just walk by my side. Instead he walks behind me.

And get this: everytime I stop and turnaround to look at him he stops............then there's a slight awkward pause with us looking at each other....................and then he starts barking at me until I turn around and keep walking.

This essentially makes him my personal trainer.

So now when I walk I don't even turn around anymore, I just hear the pitter-patter of his footsteps and know that he's there. And when I get home he stops at my letterbox and lets me go and when I look at him he seems to say 'Nice walk Bob, see you tomorrow.'

At least, that's what I like to think............

Give some money damnit!

Yesterday I went collecting for a charity's annual doorknock appeal which aims to raise money for research, education, raising awareness and provision of support in regard to heart conditons yadda yadda yadda....

Anyway I was off to a blistering start, first four houses - $20 collected.....boo yeah

So I was thinking 'grrrrrrreat! People are really great.'

But it went downhill from there and I didn't get much more...

I found it funny noticing which kinds of people gave donations and which ones didn't. The guys living in rundown houses with car parts and beer cans across the front lawn were actually really generous, good for them.

And then I go to this nice house with a swanky caravan in the front, 4WD in the back, beautiful garden with little funny garden gnomes.....and a little old lady answers the door.

I ask her if she would like to donate some money and she says 'No, I don't think I will', and shuts the door in my face....

Man....

It took a lot to stop me saying 'What?! You're not going to donate? Your BMW 4WD tells me that you're not exactly on struggle street. And you are old, your heart is old and I can see the excess blood pressure in your face, I mean, you NEED to donate some money, I'm doing this for YOU. The young 'trash' you turn your nose up at have donated money and it's unlikely they'll be getting heart disease anytime soon. From this moment on I am going to continuously scare you until you eventually have a heart attack, I'd like to think of it as giving karma a helping hand.'

The moral of the story is: not every little old lady you meet will be a kind generous soul....

Democracy, who needs it?

The following is a quote from Dr Mahathir Mohamad who was Prime Minister of Malaysia, 1981-2003.

These are his thoughts on democracy:

'Too much democracy leads to homosexuality, moral decay, racial intolerance, economic decline, single-parent families and a lax work ethic.'

Ouch.........a little harsh in my opinion

Ortolans

You may or may not be aware that I am a connoisseur of all gastronomical delights.

Yes, it's true.

Anyway I recently discovered this great recipe for the Ortolan. An Ortolan is a small type of bird, much like a finch and apparently eating it in the way shown below was one of the most truly decadent things you can do. I'm not sure if people do it anymore. The following excerpt is sourced from the Wikipedia article on the Ortolan:

You catch the ortolan with a net spread up in the forest canopy. Take it alive. Take it home. Poke out its eyes and put it in a small cage. Force-feed it oats and millet and figs until it has swollen to four times its normal size. Drown it in brandy. Roast it whole, in an oven at high heat, for six to eight minutes. Bring it to the table. Place a cloth—a napkin will do—over your head to hide your cruelty from the sight of God. Put the whole bird into your mouth, with only the beak protruding from your lips. Bite. Put the beak on your plate and begin chewing, gently. You will taste three things: First, the sweetness of the flesh and fat. This is God. Then, the bitterness of the guts will begin to overwhelm you. This is the suffering of Jesus. Finally, as your teeth break the small, delicate bones and they begin to lacerate your gums, you will taste the salt of your own blood, mingling with the richness of the fat and the bitterness of the organs. This is the Holy Spirit, the mystery of the Trinity—three united as one. It is cruel. And beautiful. According to Claude Souvenir chewing the ortolan takes approximately 15 minutes.

Mmmmmmm, my mouth is watering just thinking about it. I reckon it's time McDonalds brought in the McOrtolan. Better yet let's get our kids out catching, force-feeding and then slowly digesting their own ortolans, I reckon they might learn a few things about the preciousness of life.

By the way, I am kidding, I do not recommend doing this.