½ a head of lettuce

Humbled

A man walked into a supermarket and asked to buy half a head of lettuce. The boy working in that department told him that they only sold whole heads of lettuce. The man was insistent that the boy ask the manager about the matter.

Walking into the back room, the boy said to the manager,”Some old bastard wants to buy a half a head of lettuce.”

As he finished his sentence, he turned around to find that the man was standing right behind him, so he quickly added,”and this gentleman kindly offered to buy the other half.”
The manager approved the deal and the man went on his way.

Later, the manager said to the boy,”I was impressed with the way you got yourself out of that situation earlier, we like people who can think on their feet here, and where are you from son?”


“New Zealand, sir,” the boy replied.


“Why did you leave New Zealand?”the manager asked.

Continue reading “½ a head of lettuce”

Have you seen my cows?

Last night Boadicea and I cooked a roast for our Aussie grandson and his current girlfriend.

She’s every inch a modern Brisbane girl; she’s tall, elegant, intelligent, poised, and has that sort of healthy physique that tells you she would be equally at home on the high-fashion catwalk as she would be as a beach-bunny surfing a 5 metre wave or outback wrestling a croc – and winning.

At present she’s teaching in Charters Towers, a small rural town in far north Queensland, one of the places where cyclone Yasi stormed through earlier this year.   She entertained us with stories of the storm and chatted about the effect on the local children of the recent Gillard knee-jerk halt on live cattle exports.

But the tale she told us to illustrate some of the differences she’s found between life in the capital city and in her bush town, bears repeating. Continue reading “Have you seen my cows?”

Dewani extradition, 1 step closer

The UK Home Secretary (Theresa May) has signed the extradition order for Shrien Dewani to be tried in South Africa for the murder of his wife Anni.

Shrien Dewani (the depressed post traumatic stress sufferer) now has 2 weeks to appeal her decision. Theresa May’s approval was required to confirm District Judge Howard Riddle’s decision of 10th August in which after a lengthy hearing he decided that they extradition request was fair, that Dewani was fit to stand trial and that our judicial system would not impinge on his human rights!

Dewani’s options appear to be first the appeal and then an appeal to the European Court of Human Rights, the wheels of justice seem to take forever but we can wait.

I’m just delighted that while this is ongoing Dewani is living the life of a virtual prisoner in his fancy care home.

And Max? Continue reading “Dewani extradition, 1 step closer”

Adverts? What Adverts?

Two Charioteers have questioned me about advertisements appearing on The Chariot.

WordPress reserve the right to place adverts on free blogs, but ever since we began we have noticed that –

  • They never appear when one is logged in.
  • They sometimes, but not always, appear when one is not logged in.

If you are still seeing adverts after you have logged in, please let me know so that I can ask for clarification from WordPress.   We have no control over which adverts are displayed, or whether or not they appear.

A plea to Val

Please will you cease deleting your posts within a few hours of publishing them.   Of course you have every right to do so, but it is most disconcerting to go to re-read an interesting comment, or to have another squiz at your excellent photographs, only to find that yesterday’s post has disappeared without trace.

It also has the effect of removing your gravatar from the “Authors’ Archives”, and of leaving a large number of enormous image files orphaned within the media store.

The War Journal : Three Spartans


The Muse gig campaign was a Stonewaller. With great inspiration we laid a trail of destruction in our wake, living off the land, taking no prisoners before triumphing without any casualties. We had reached our goal within a few songs. In front of us, swelling as big as a carpet burn, stood the mighty legions of fans of the medieval torture instrument. They would be a more formidable foe.

Our numbers were only three: Chibber, Steff and me, sometimes less is more as stealth can win out in a crowd of 10,000. None of us knew the difference between tactics and strategy, all we knew was that our objective was to get to the front row. The front row is the ultimate in concert-going. Continue reading “The War Journal : Three Spartans”