Kapitan - there was an accident!

Kapitan, there was an accident in the research facility! It’s imperative we reach the acid baths…

I just had to share this site with you. Once again provided by my son (did I mention that he does not have enought to do?)

rolcats

Happy Birthday Quolly!

Angry Angus Burger, Chiko Roll and Chiko Chick.

Happy Birthday for Friday Quolly!

Merisi is putting pressure on me to Blog on time – so today I am.

Sissi is back home and is not happy. She is very tired and has a cone around her neck so that she cannot lick her stomach – or in fact do anything much at all.

Maalie has reminded me of some of the things that have not infiltrated the Austrian culture. These include the Chiko roll which is an unspeakable concoction of vegetable matter and other detritus of indeterminate origin – together with sawdust and probably rat droppings – bathed in batter and deep fried for I don’t know how long – possibly days.

The last time I had one I was sober and this is the wrong time to eat a Chiko roll. This is the food you each after you have been swept out of the Pub well past midnight and you lurch up to the Chiko roll seller and say ‘give me two of you finest Chiko rolls my good man and be quick about it’.

Days later this is the only part of the evening you remember as those Chiko rolls tend to linger with you for some time. They have – I believe – a half life of 6 weeks.

But I do miss Crumpets – these are not exactly like the English ones but are pretty damn close and there is nothing like a toasted Crumpet on a winter morning.

We got a number of good things from the English - Crumpets and ....er.....I will get back to you with a more extensive list....I know.....Marmalade.

And I miss Bagels – it is possible to get good Bagels in Wien – but not near our place.

There are other things it would be nice to have – but we have adapted quite well. Fortunately the Austrians are sophisticated enough to have Crunchy Nut Cornflakes - which satisfies my breakfast needs.

I note in passing that Hungry Jack’s in Australia has responded to the obesity problem (we are second only to the USA) by introducing the Ultimate Double Whopper Burger.

Named the Angry Angus Burger this show stopper is a killer and users will be required to be wired up to a defibrillator before partaking of his gastronomic delicacy – which will no doubt be accompanied by a large fries and washed down with a liter of Pepsi.

Dietitian Melanie McGrice said it would take the average person 3 1/2 hours of walking to burn off the 5040 kilojoules gained by eating the burger, and its 80g of fat was twice the recommended daily intake. Jiminy Cricket! That many kilojoules would stop a Hippo in its tracks.

It’s nice to see fast food operators doing their bit for the health of the community.

On matters of skepticism – there is a fantastic scam going on at the moment for which most of the media has fallen hook, line and sinker.

A Belgian man – conscious but unable to communicate for 23 years - is now miraculously able to communicate. So far so good – but they way he communicates has to be seen to be believed. Watch this video and tell me that the guy is doing this himself.

Coma Man

“The therapist, Linda Wouters, told APTN that she can feel Houben guiding her hand with gentle pressure from his fingers, and that she feels him objecting when she moves his hand toward an incorrect letter”.

Yeh right!

He obviously spent the last 23 years while he was in the coma teaching himself to touch type -because he can do it without looking at the keyboard - if indeed he can see the keyboard.

Stuff like this makes me want to vomit.

Before you ask - why would she want to do this? The answer is that he is going to write a book - with Linda's help of course.

For a more definitive analayis of this scam see PZ Myers fabulous Blog. This should be required reading for everyone who cares.

pharyngula

We have tickets to “The Messiah” at the Wiener Konzerthaus on 8 December. This is one of our favourite Christmas traditions. I wonder if the audience here follows the custom of standing during the Hallelujah Chorus?

If you want to know why they do this – Wikipedia says:

“In many parts of the world, it is the accepted practice for the audience to stand for this section of the performance. Tradition has it that King George II rose to his feet at this point. As the first notes of the triumphant Hallelujah Chorus rang out, the king rose. Royal protocol has always demanded that whenever the monarch stands, so does everyone in the monarch's presence. Thus, the entire audience and orchestra stood too, initiating a tradition that has lasted more than two centuries”

It’s funny because every time we go there are always a few people who do not stand up – I am not sure why – probably because they think it’s something to do with Christianity.

We don't really know why KG2 stood up. He might have had an Angry Angus Burger that was about to take revenge - or maybe he wanted to fart or scratch his bottom.

No matter - I love this quaint English custom which I hope will be with us forever - which given the parlous state of the planet is not likely to be all that much longer.

One down - three to go

I lost my electric razor. I looked in all the obvious places – washing machine – refrigerator – but it was definitively MIA. I went unshaven all day and was berating myself for getting forgetful – when I realised finally that I was thinking about it in entirely the wrong manner.

What I should have thought was ‘what would Sissi do with my razor if I left it on the bench in the bathroom?’ And there it was – behind the toilet bowl – apparently none the worse for wear.

A few things to report:

Sissi has been delivered to Dr Schnauser. She is not happy about it (Sissi – not Dr Schnauser) and particularly didn’t like missing breakfast. She will be collected – missing a few bits – this evening.

Many years ago we had Muffin attended to in this fashion. Six months after the event she presented us with two bouncing baby boys. We – and the Vet – were very surprised. The Vet was so surprised he did the job again at no cost.

We kept the boys – Baggins and Bilbo (who were named many years before the movies were released – and well before every second cat in Christendom was name Bilbo or Baggins). I asked the vet one time how many Bagginses they had on their books and it was something like 37.

Baggins was skittled by a car when he was only one year old but Bilbo survived until very late last year.

Muffin of course is still with us and I noticed on the ‘cat to people years’ chart in the Vet’s office that Muffin is the equivalent of 80 years old. She is certainly an old grouch and would be good company for Frau Gumpendorfer.

The dishwasher is now leaking so badly that I have to put a bowl underneath it when I turn it on. The dishwasher man (It would not be appropriate at this stage to call him a repairman) comes on Friday to collect another couple of hundred Euros.

We have finally finished our first jar of Vegemite. It has taken us more than a year to do this as we simply don’t eat much anymore. We have three large jars left so it will be a while yet before we ask visitors to bring us some.

I am however running short of my favourite ‘Australian Wildlife’ mugs – you know – the ones with Koalas, Kangaroos and Echidnas on them – so will give this task to our next group.

Billy is nearly one year old and we are having a party for him with a jumping castle on 10 December. Rozalin has arranged for his first service to happen – and I find this astonishing – the first service is not due for 20,000 kilometers or 12 months – whatever comes first. Well, Billy has only done 12,000 kilometers so far.

I know the Mercedes Benz people are very clever – but making a car that doesn’t need a service at all until it has done 20,000 kilometers is sensational. (I know Bill needs a service because he sends me a message every day – today it was it was a picture of a spanner with ‘ 27 Tagen’).

The printing presses are running hot in Wien and every day brings masses – and I mean masses – of advertising material to the door and letterbox. I could stop this avalanche if I could find out where to buy the appropriate stickers for the door and letterbox – but so far this has eluded me.

In the interim I am hiring Bobcat to clear the front door so we can get out to take Cate to work each morning.