Sunday, September 18, 2011

You're never too old or stupid

What do you do with a 90-year-old who gets breath tested and blows a reading of 0.230?
The police charged her with high range drink driving.

1. She's 90!
2. She can still drive!
3. She can still find the car and turn the ignition!
4. She has enough breath to test!

I know grown men that couldn't do what she just did.

Just watch the highway at Bateman's Bay on a Friday night. Look for a weaving bicycle.


Elephant's Child said...

We saw that too. And decided that she had probably been doing it for years - just played the little old lady trick and hadn't been breathalised before. Bingo queen of Bateman's Bay.

The Editor said...

"The Bingo Queen of Batman's Bay" sounds like the title of a Banjo Paterson poem...

iODyne said...

She is an absolute star, as
.3 is Alcoholic Poisoning.
Dylan Thomas would raise his glass to her -

'Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light' ... indeed.

Jayne said...

Feral teen just told me fluids travel faster in an enclosed space - obviously she needs to open up more *boom, boom*

Andrew said...

I caught that too. One ought not be impressed, but one can't help a sneaking admiration. Copperwitch, don't get any ideas of you behind the wheel of a shiny boarder's car after a Bombay Saphire or five.

River said...

Clearly the old dear does not have asthma. With the amount of jasmine around right now, I can barely draw breath without coughing up a lung. It's never been this bad.
If I was asked to breathe into one of those thingys, I'd end up in emergency.

Gotta laugh at her still getting away with it at her age.

JahTeh said...

EC, she probably knows every regular breath testing spot but this was a random test. I'm surprised she could stand up.

Bear, that's brilliant now where's the Poet Rochester when you need him?

Stacks, It's probably what's keeping her alive, she's pickled. Yes, rage is right, I'm not going unless I have a choc bar in each hand.

Jayne, thank the Feral teen for explaining my (and River's) bladder problems. I hope no-one lights a match near her.

Andrew, I can't drive sober let alone boozed. I was thinking of the hangovers but with that much alcohol, she'd never be sober. 24 hours without drink and I'm sure my father would still have blown .05

River, north wind today so I'm with you on the Jasmine but do you know what I miss, the smell of wattle. We don't seem to have any wattle trees left around here thanks to greedy property developers.

R.H. said...

Bingo City
Werribee too
Playing for the jackpot
Big Woman
It's you.


Hi, my name is Robert, I have two dogs, they stack on a blue and I can't hear TV. Bingo City Altona last Saturday week and my daughter won the jackpot: $3000 (true). The following day was Fathers Day and I was around her place first thing.

Civic dignitary.

The Editor said...

Robbert, nice work, but you can do better. It was supposed to be Bateman's Bay.

R.H. said...

Pardon me, I 'write what I know'.

The Editor said...

Robert, if I may make a gentle suggestion, why not google Bateman's Bay? Surely after ten minutes reading you will know all that is worth knowing about Bateman's Bay, and then you can "write what you know".

Oh, and it's OK to swear a me... :-)

JahTeh said...

Nice one Robbert, being a dutiful daughter I suppose you were given your reward, or if she's like me there wasn't much left after a night of online shopping.

R.H. said...

She shops all the time, has no fear, no respect for money. She is the most generous person I've ever known.

Gerald I have too much interesting to say than make things up.

R.H. said...

Darlings I've made a discovery, since toning down the truth I'm welcome on the most self-adoring dictatorial of blogs. What I need to be is a liar.
Meanwhile it's always nice to be home, here, at the RH Temple of Extreme Thought. It's sunny, although off to my left is the top floor of a recent two-storey turd hiding part of the sky. On the roof is an ugly airconditioner which I could easily hit with my .22 and will the day I leave here. Down the road there's a brand new block of about fourteen ap-a-a-a-artments soon to be occupied and alongside that is the old Masonic Hall shivering with fear. It's next to go.
Welcome to Hobsons Bay, most developer friendly council in the World.
Across the tracks the old Newport timber yard is going for apa-a-a-a-rtments, backyards everywhere are being sold for dogbox constructions and my question is this: if the cattle can't get a seat in carriages leaving Newport station now then how the hell will they even get standing room in six months time? They won't.
What a laugh. Well darlings aside from the abo/homo/reffo trinity it's no wonder public transport is such a big wowser-feminist-latte-set devotion. It's their life. Good heavens, not a week goes by when I don't see that beaver-toothed goanna-shaped publicity-loving Transport Users twerp on TV with his mouth wide open. Hell, what a vision, and the bastard's going grey!

This is their prophet, really, chattering windbag.

Latte set, what dupes you are; cattle bred to consume.

Keep it up, you suckers, keep paying the bills.

R.H. said...

The dirty streets and suburbs, and Miss Fen, Miss River, Miss Copperwitch; you are the Santa Monica Mall, full of fairy lights.


R.H. said...

And Miss Jane of course, EC, et al; if Copperwitch never returns (from her romance with the Indian taxi driver) I'll take over this blog, and with all its links, goods, chattels, including her mother. I've never worn tailor-made, always off the rack.

R.H. said...

-Copperwitch, you big funny thing.

R.H. said...

Aunt Selma and kitty litter, a bus ride to Southland, Spiders and lemon trees, doilies and diamonds.

JahTeh said...

Robbert, I can always count on you to take up the slack, blogwise. I agree with you about the trains, stop building roads, build more train tracks.
My Seniors Card Myki with the free weekend travel hasn't turned up yet and there's a catch, you have to put money on it before you can use it for free.