“My wife, Sally, recently turned 60,” writes Steve McKay of Springwood. “The very next morning the face recognition function rubbed it in by declining to unlock her phone. Curiously, on the same day, faithful dog Bandit decided for the first time not to participate in the ‘find Sally’ game. Putting the ‘being cast aside due to getting old’ story to one side, is the phone controlling the dog or vice versa?”
Centre sleepers (C8) are also fans of central heating, according to Bob Phillips of Cabarita: “We had a half-kelpie, half-terrier. As far as he was concerned, the middle of the bed was his designated sleeping area. He started off in the laundry, but by successive approximations to his goal, ended up in the middle of the bed. His technique was elbows and toes, elbows and toes, slinking as if under enemy fire, but always moving upwards towards the warmth.”
Andrew Orr’s (C8) death-from-above experience at Hermit Beach had Jo Rainbow of Orange suggesting, “Mr Orr should think of Aeschylus and rejoice.” Look, just drop it, Jo.
Still on the subject of air campaigns, Gerald Erickson of West Ryde says: “A crow recently dropped a white stone onto the table on my deck, shattering the glass top. [Stop right there! Sorry, Gerald, it can only be a raven, currawong or magpie according to Peter Mayes. Anyway, do continue – Granny.] Now I see them burying the stones around my garden. What are they up to?” Kalua Pork?
“The reason there are no crows in Sydney is that Australia’s first governor, Arthur Phillip, ate them all,” claims Peter Riley of Penrith. “He noted in his journal that ‘crows stew well’. Luckily, there is no evidence that koalas were on his menu.”
“There’s no shortage of crows out my way,” reckons Meri Will of Northmead. “Cunning Ravens Orchestrating Wanton Sabotage.”
Doug Richards of Tamarama wishes to add to the current toilet tech (C8) discussion: “I have seen on the shelves of various ‘discount’ variety stores a ‘Toilet Motion Detecting Light’ that fits inside the rim. I find the concept disturbing.” Peter Miniutti of Ashbury thinks, “It’s a bummer when toilets become smarter than the people using them.”
Taking his cue from Unkle Cyril’s (C8) Freudenshade (now capitalised on advice from Judith Campbell of Drummoyne), Les Shearman of Darlington has coined Chardonnayfreude, “for when it all gets too much”.
Column8@smh.com.au
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