Sometimes Sayings.

Cobba, on the Mack truck forum Americans do love Trumpy

It is interesting that people in Australia can't see what clearly a lot of Americans can see
My Mum hates poor old Trumpy, I do remind her that we only know what pur media tells us

I don't wanna start a political debate, this is just a observation I have made
A very good reason I don't watch the news

Paul

We had John Howard for a hell of lot of years, two terms of trump should be a walk in the park, and Howard still thinks he's in charge

Not being pollical or anything.

 

Their windows would be all fogged up so visibility meant they had to find something else to amuse themselves.

The guys closest to the gates wouldn't see much of the movie.

I wonder sometimes whether we do get wiser as we get older or do we just run out of stupid things to do.......

As I have become older the less I see that wisdom comes with age. Timidity and lack of enthusiasm is described as wisdom.

Unfortunately I have found that the good people are the same good people from my young days. The cowards, liars and idiots still have the same underlying traits even though they are 80 years old.

I think your basic traits are established by the time you leave school and even earlier. Apart from IQ over which you have no control and never changes and physical health over which you have a lot of control (but not all) you should choose your parents well.

As for drive-ins I remember going to the first night of the first drive-in theatre in Australia the night before my 7th birthday in February 1954. The Skyline Theatre in Melbourne. In my memory it seemed a complete schemozzle with nobody knowing what to do. The traffic was banked up for miles around and even at that age I can remember rows of cars backing and filling because nobody knew what angle they should park and how close to the speaker post.

Then there was the "road rage" tooting and yelling as people sat with their foot on the brake and the Holdens all sitting with running engines so the wipers would work in the inevitable Melbourne drizzle.

With regard to fogged windows we have all been there done that. In the early days they used to have people walking around shining torches in windows to stop any untoward activities. I think this stopped fairly quickly as the professional pervs were yelled at, threatened and even punched out.

I never did it but 5 people in the boot to avoid paying was common and right to the end of drive-ins the gatekeepers would demand likely suspects open the boot.

That reminds me how, in the late 70's we would go to the Caboolture drive-in in our brown HG Kingswood. My parents would have me hide under a blanket on the back floor on the way in.

I remember my mum's disappointment one time, when the alien popped out of the guys chest and my dad started the car and drove out!
It was years later before we could afford a video recorder (even then rented) so Mum could see that movie. (and she was quite welcome to it! It's not for me, either.)

Jarrod.

A quote from the biography of W.C.Fields, by Robert Lewis Taylor:-

A few days after his eleventh birthday, he had left a small shovel lying in the yard. His father stepped on it and the handle rose up and hit the man on the shin. He hopped around for a while, cursing, and then saw his son watching him in a detached sort of way. He picked up the shovel and rattled it off the boy's head. During the next few days, Fields devoted himself to getting even. He said afterwards that he rejected several plans certain to arouse the interest of the coroner and settled on a simple but effective reprisal. Holding a large wooden box aloft, he hid in the stable. His father came in looking for trouble. Feilds crowned him and walked off down the road and never returned.
 

Gave me a chuckle 


Paul



“There I was, sitting at the bar, staring at my drink, when a large, trouble-making biker stepped up next to me. He grabbed my drink and gulped it down in one swig.

"Well, whatcha gonna do about it?" he said menacingly.

I burst into tears.

“Come on, man,” the biker said. “I didn’t think you’d cry. I can’t stand to see a man crying.”

“This is the worst day of my life,” I said. “I’m a complete failure. I was late to a meeting, and my boss fired me. When I went to the parking lot, I found my car had been stolen—and I don’t even have insurance. I left my wallet in the cab I took home. I found my wife with another man, and then my dog bit me.”

“So I came to this bar to work up the courage to put an end to it all. I bought a drink, dropped a capsule in it, and sat here watching the poison dissolve.

Then you show up and drink the whole thing!”

“But enough about me,” I said, wiping my tears. “How’s your day going?”