(no subject)
Job-hunting continues. Difficult. I'll get there eventually.
I must be one of the few in this northern city that like rain and wind. I just had the windows open to let the wind blow through. But I do like standing on cliffs during storms. I could never get my quota of wild weather in Adelaide - it is, bushfires and sharks notwithstanding, a gentle sort of place.
I like it up here, it'd be a pity to leave when I eventually do.
For those of you who remember French Nuclear Testing at Mururoa, the Rainbow Warrior and the pressure brought to bear on NZ to let the murdering scumbags go home for their medals, that was all down to Jacques Chirac. So I am delighted by recent events; Jacques publicity urges France to stop drugs coming in by closing the border between France and the Netherlands, thereby enraging the Dutch firstly by suggesting that French drug-taking is a Dutch problem and secondly for failing to realise that there isn't a border between the two countries, and managing to enrage the Belgians who do have a border with France but resent being thought of as Dutch; Jacques' support for French rural bludgers at the expense of all un-subsidised agriculture world-wide took a serious dive when the Francophone nations together with our own Don MacKinnon ganged up to oppose it; Jacques' little jokes to Schröder and Putin in a cafe about inedible and nasty English cooking was overhead and reported worldwide, embarrassing enough for tenuous Anglo-French relations as it is, and despite food at the lower-levels in England being absolutely abominable, at the level that Chirac gets to eat, England has far more Michelin-starred restaurants than France; and to be known for washing down excellent English lobster with cheapo lager isn't all that conducive to his gallic gastronomic pretensions. And I am even more delighted today by the news that Paris lost the 2012 Olympics to London, a feat I'm sure his fellow countrymen will completely blame on him. So, up yours, Jacques. God knows I've left enough messages at French embassies over the years suggesting you're not quite up to the job, or any job, as I recall. So, we may yet see Chirac cooking burgers at a McDonalds in Auckland.
I must be one of the few in this northern city that like rain and wind. I just had the windows open to let the wind blow through. But I do like standing on cliffs during storms. I could never get my quota of wild weather in Adelaide - it is, bushfires and sharks notwithstanding, a gentle sort of place.
I like it up here, it'd be a pity to leave when I eventually do.
For those of you who remember French Nuclear Testing at Mururoa, the Rainbow Warrior and the pressure brought to bear on NZ to let the murdering scumbags go home for their medals, that was all down to Jacques Chirac. So I am delighted by recent events; Jacques publicity urges France to stop drugs coming in by closing the border between France and the Netherlands, thereby enraging the Dutch firstly by suggesting that French drug-taking is a Dutch problem and secondly for failing to realise that there isn't a border between the two countries, and managing to enrage the Belgians who do have a border with France but resent being thought of as Dutch; Jacques' support for French rural bludgers at the expense of all un-subsidised agriculture world-wide took a serious dive when the Francophone nations together with our own Don MacKinnon ganged up to oppose it; Jacques' little jokes to Schröder and Putin in a cafe about inedible and nasty English cooking was overhead and reported worldwide, embarrassing enough for tenuous Anglo-French relations as it is, and despite food at the lower-levels in England being absolutely abominable, at the level that Chirac gets to eat, England has far more Michelin-starred restaurants than France; and to be known for washing down excellent English lobster with cheapo lager isn't all that conducive to his gallic gastronomic pretensions. And I am even more delighted today by the news that Paris lost the 2012 Olympics to London, a feat I'm sure his fellow countrymen will completely blame on him. So, up yours, Jacques. God knows I've left enough messages at French embassies over the years suggesting you're not quite up to the job, or any job, as I recall. So, we may yet see Chirac cooking burgers at a McDonalds in Auckland.