Nothing Wrong

Quite a rumpus has ensued following this man’s gentle reminder that private property is, in fact, private:

A homeowner has divided opinion by coming up with a unique method to stop people taking a shortcut across his front lawn.
CCTV footage posted on TikTok shows several people getting soaked by an automatic sprinkler if they get too close to the man’s house.

At the heart of all of this is the extended form of socialism which gives people the “right” to disregard someone else’s property rights just because it’s a “shortcut” (i.e. they being too lazy to walk an extra few yards along the sidewalk).

And if a mild soaking seems outrageous, consider anti-personnel mines, which ia what I might have considered in his situation.

Augean Stables

Posting may be a little light today, as New Wife returns home first thing tomorrow morning, and I have a little errrrr cleaning up to do chez  Du Toit before that happens:

…if you know what I mean.

Hey, at least there aren’t any dead hippies, unlike last time.

Amazing Doesn’t Even Cover It

i know I said there would be no math, but you have to look at these.  Sue Radford:

  • is 46 years old
  • has been married for 28 years (to the same man)
  • has 22 (twenty-two) kids
  • looks like this:

Now to be honest, she hasn’t looked like this for (probably) 27 years — because she’s been pretty much pregnant most of that time (maybe with a couple months off for good behavior, here and there).  Here’s the family’s chronological listing:

Chris 32, Sophie 27, Chloe 25, Jack 24, Daniel 22, Luke 20, Millie 19, Katie 18, James 17, Ellie 16, Aimee 15, Josh 13, Max 12, Tillie 11, Oscar 9, Casper 8, Hallie 6, Phoebe 4, Archie 3, Bonnie 2, and Heidie, 1.

And apparently they have taken not one penny of government support, ever.  As the title of this post suggests…

Read all about it.


Afterthought:  I know what you’re thinking.  Don’t go there.  If her hubby is satisfied, then that’s all we need to know.

Banished

…or at least locked out of my own house.

New Wife does not want me to be present today at the moving of our stuff from the garage back into the apartment because reasons.  (Mostly because I fly into frequent rages at the recalcitrance of furniture to fit through doors etc. and am likely to break things when it doesn’t.  Also, I hate packing stuff away, and she absolutely loves doing it.)

So I’ve supplied the movers (strong young backs) from a company that I’ve used many times before, and that’s all there is to it.

And no, she’s not going to rearrange our stuff so that I’ll never find it again — she is actually more a creature of habit than I am, so when I’m eventually allowed back in, sometime this afternoon, I should find the place almost ready for human habitation.

My sole responsibility is the packing away of guns into safes, and buying the groceries we’ll be needing to resume our former life, such as it was.  And that’s only scheduled for tomorrow (Sunday).

It could be worse.  Like it was back in mid-February.