Lemma's dilemma

The radio here in South Africa was reporting yesterday that New South Wales Premier Morris Iemma (pronounced Yemma) had offered to host the 2010 Soccer World Cup in Sydney if the South Africans couldn't get their act together.

 

Well, let me tell you, that went down like a monkey pooh on a camp kitchen table over here.

 

Not a good time to be an Australian on safari, particularly in a sports-mad country where everyone carries a pistol.

 

Some wire service journo had got the Premier's name wrong, as well, so the radios were calling him Lemma. 

 

Admittedly, things are far from tickety-boo on the soccer front over here - a bunch of local and international journos walked out of a press conference en masse the other day because the world cup organisers kept them waiting for 70 minutes without an excuse.

 

However, sport is about the only thing that unifies this country, so I say, back off Morris.  Presumably such a baseless, vaguely-populist offer was only made to distract the Sydney media and local voters from whatever woes the Government is facing this week.

 

Now, back to more important matters...

 

We repaired the monkey damage to the roof of the circus tent yesterday and it's survivied its first downpour.  Mrs Blog stiched the tricky zig-zag rent and we covered the scar with thick waterproof sealant and duct tape. 
She thought the sealant smelled like nail polish, while to me it smelt more like Airfix model glue. 

 

This afternoon we will atempt to replace Tonka's leaky auxilliary fuel tank, which was repaired at the manufacturer's expense, having sprung a leak in Mozambique (it was less than a year old).  Looks like another diesel bath is on the cards.

 

Thanks to the many other people who have commented on the monkey pirate capers and other disgusting monkey habits. I'm starting to wonder if the monkey wee I discovered the other day wasn't actually some other bodily fluid.  Given Stomper Girl's story, I shudder to think...