Enough babies already!

I saw this letter in The Times earlier this week. It made me laugh.

I am a poor pensioner and taxpayer – I cannot afford to pay for your sexual urges.
The world and South Africa has enough people, please don’t be stupid and selfish and add more at my expense.

More people means more power stations are needed, more schools, more hospitals, more houses, more jobs (from where?), more dams, more roads, more prisons, more police, more global warming and so on, and I am expected to pay for all of this.

Think of me, yourselves, the rest of the world and the child before you make babies.

RL, by email

While RL’s plea may strike a chord with a number of  taxpayers, who (as in most other countries around the world) subsidise those “less fortunate” than themselves, I can’t see his/her message catching on. With 4.3 babies born per second worldwide, another 17.2 (ish) have arrived while you’ve been reading this sentence. Don’t tell RL – that sort of stat would kill him/her.

Of course, if RL was to pop his/her clogs, then it would – by RL’s reckoning, at least – be a good thing for the world. We’d need 0.00000001 less hospitals, 0.00000001 less power stations and dams. Schools would probably be unaffected, but there would be 1 whole house more. Which has got to be a step in the right direction. Unless you’re RL. 

However, if RL were to be cremated, that would add to global warming, so instead, we’d need more space in the local cemetery.  

Hmm. Swings and roundabouts. No – wait – that’s a playground, not a cemetery. But you know what I mean.

The problem with RL’s idea of thinking of him/her before submitting to your sexual urges is that, were one to think about a grumbling pensioner (like thinking of dead kittens or Manto Tshabalala-Msimang (remember her?)) while in the throes of passion, then the sexual urges would probably go away. Rapidly.

But then, maybe that’s RL’s plan.  

Another Pick n Pay Sausage Fail

Who could forget the infamous Pick n Pay experiment of sticking Pap and Wors in one handy sausage unit – the Worst Wors™ ever?

Well, not content with turning your stomach with that, it would now appear that they are putting Oyster Sauce and Rice Wine in their Boeries and have moved away from recommending braai’ing as the cooking method of choice:

“Opstal” translates as “Homestead”. But out on the small-holding, I’m pretty sure Ouma van der Merwe would never have thought of using those sorts of ingredients before stirfrying her traditional sausage.

The BBC Lifestyle channel has a lot to answer for.

Need two

I’m still feeling rough as a nomad’s heel and I have a huge week coming up including several big experiments at work, an important footy match and dinner with the Molton Brown Boys. Mrs 6000 has once again demonstrated her superb management skills in managing me straight back to bed and her and the kids to her mum’s. I am eternally grateful.

Despite being drugged up to the eyeballs (which, significantly, lie above the nasal cavity), I find myself oozing huge amounts of claggy green snot and have used almost an entire rainforest-worth of tissues this morning alone.
I could do with a more physical intervention and the photograph above has given me a great idea. In addition, the contents of the bottles involved might sort out this sore throat.

Or at least stop me caring…

An easy mistake to make

The Enquirer-Bulletin has made a slight error and wants to set the record straight.


There. I hope that clears everything up now.

DIY Big Screen Telly

I am constantly poking Mrs 6000 in the direction of a big screen telly, but she remains disinterested. That’s because Mrs 6000 doesn’t actually watch a lot of television. She only watches on Friday evenings because there’s some god-awful American programme with a plethora of bimbos throwing themselves at a bloke from Watford.

But I digress. The reason that is what is watched in our household on Friday evenings because there is no footy on. Which brings me to the second reason that Mrs 6k is against the big screen telly idea – that I would end up watching more sport.
This is an utterly ridiculous suggestion. I couldn’t possibly watch more sport than I do now. Unless they start regularly screening football matches on Friday evenings, of course. But if the payoff for a smart new TV was a continuation of Friday nights being crap American telly, even when Brentford v Swansea is on 203, then that’s fine by me.

And then there’s the money. Red wine is an expensive business and when you’ve got to bring up two kids on top of that – well, you can see that there’s not going to be much to spare. And then you have to buy them food as well. And pay for electricity, which is going up again next week/month/year/all of the above. It never ends.
(Incidentally, a big screen telly is pretty power hungry, but I’d be willing to limit the amount of time it was on by switching it off on Friday evenings.)

Of course, there’s actually nothing wrong with the telly we have at the moment. It’s just not very big. And no matter what they say, size is important.

Step forward Brian Micklethwait:

If I want a big screen telly, I move my small screen telly nearer.

Which sounds fine in principle, but it would be a little hypocritical of me to do that, since the kids aren’t allowed close to the TV screen and are constantly being chastised for it, drawn in by the gravitational spell of CBeebies (and not just Sarah-Jane Honeywell, like their dad).

So that leaves only one option, then. Shrink the furniture.