Wednesday, May 05, 2010

I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS

That's right, I'm still trying to come to grip with the fact that Kingston Council has shown signs of intelligent life.

This year's Harvest Festival on Saturday, May 29 from 11am to 11pm will be a ripper. No bring your own booze or animals allowed but best of all no fireworks.

At 6pm and 11pm the organizers are going to release hundreds of sky lanterns. They're made of biodegradable bamboo and will float to light up the sky. No loud bangs, no shattered animals but lots of pretty.

Fancy a council having a brain.

26 comments:

  1. OMFG!!!!!!!
    I'm glad I was sitting down to read that!
    Wow, I'm off to congratulate them on such a sensible decision :)

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  2. And you're going to take photos so the rest of us can see this remarkably pretty sight, yes?

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  3. Jayne, if the night's fine Andrew should be able to see them from the Highrise. I'll be out looking.

    River, I couldn't photograph my foot and that's at the end of my leg. Stupid me for getting a 36 exposure film. I don't have a digital camera, can't see the sense in throwing away a perfectly good camera.

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  4. "Fancy a council having a brain."

    Fancy that, I read that as "Fancy a council having a Brian."

    There have to be standards! (Even for councils and Hughes wouldn't be one of them!)

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  5. Kingston seems to be quite a progressive council, a tiny bit to my surprise. Btw, have you changed a blog colour? Is it menopausal mauve?

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  6. Good decision - We got a load of eco friendly sky lanterns for a friend's wedding which was amazing

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  7. Miss Deveny you old moll, ugly trollop, you're finished. I'm so pleased.

    Bon Voyage.

    -Robert.

    Life is short, here today gone today.

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  8. DEVENY IS BULLSHIT.



    We always knew.

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  9. That's distraction, not what I wanted to say.

    Mozart this evening, just for you. Moonlight Sonata, you in your nightie.

    Murderess is learning violin, her psychiatrist is teaching her.
    He has trouble with the neighbours, just like me; playing loudly, late at night.

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  12. MiLord, a Brian is exactly what every brain dead council needs.

    Andrew, I'll have you know it's Imperial purple. "Menopausal mauve" indeed, I am above such mundane colours.
    Kingston Council quite good, at times, but I'm still pissed off at all those Australand houses being built. The cars don't bother me but the dogwalkers who don't pick up the poop,do.

    It was a good call, anonymous. I've hated fireworks since I was a child and the howling of the dogs is always nervewracking. I haven't seen sky lanterns but it sounds very pleasant and quiet.

    Robbert, Mozart and Beethoven, worthy of a sky lantern especially the Moonlight Sonata.
    Believe me humour must come before you can love any neighbour.

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  13. Donate the perfectly good camera to a photography student,(my son has mine, he enjoys the developing process), and get a digital. Do it now. Or whenever you have the time. Your choice.

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  16. Jahteh, my dear friend Jahteh, Moonlight Sonata, just for you.

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  17. That's better. I need to stop talking to myself.

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  18. Mind you, old c*nt Davo is worse.

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  19. I am very happy with my Hal Porter essay. It's serious work but I'm willing to laugh about it.

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  20. When I look in the mirror what I see isn't unpleasant. I wonder if everyone has this, a sort of positive illusion? When I look in the mirror I see Marlon Brando. Does Catherine Deveny see Audrey Hepburn?

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  21. Hal Porter is unreadable, if you want a story that is, but OH!- what style! Really, there's none better.

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  22. Robbert, continue talking to yourself, I do. It's nice to speak to someone on my own wavelength.
    As to the mirror, I see a figure somewhere on the scale of Jayne Russell not some waif creature that wouldn't make the weight of my left leg.

    River, it's taken me ten years to remember to open the lens, what do you think I'd do with a digital whatnot?

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  23. "Nottingham lace curtains, whereon a self-concious liason of bracts of white fern and pendant bunches of white muscatels occurs, hang at the window, their scalloped edges skimming the leek-green linoleum blotched with white chrysanthemums. In the center of one wall, and rigidly at right angles to it, a Venetian double bed of white enamel columns banded and curlicued with nickel asserts an importance as of a sacrificial altar or an operating-theatre table. On each side of the bed, dead parallel to the dead-straight hems of the dead-white quilt, lies a shaggy white mohair mat. A four-fold japanese screen, reeds and cranes embroidered in greenish gold on linen, conceals a cabinet that contains the chamber-pot into which, sometimes, from my own next door bedroom, I half asleep hear, dispassionately, yet with some interest, my father or my mother urinating."

    -Hal Porter.
    The Watcher on the Cast-Iron Balcony.


    Oh my goodness!

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  24. I have to agree with you, that is style. I can see in my mind, that room exactly.

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