Tenants from hell ... suggestions welcome

This applies in SA but anyone with suggestions within general law, please shout out -



The lease finally expires end of this month and she wrote to them in July saying she would not be able to renew as she needed the cottage for a family member. No response. They do pay their rent (slowly), but the place looks a tip even from the outside. They have 3 resident dogs which are never allowed outside, the mind boggles a bit. She wasn't even able to see inside when she bought the house which seems crazy to me, but hey.

Anyway, she sent another letter a week ago asking for a time convenient to them when she could come in to measure up, so the renovations could start immediately 1st November. Tenant one saw her son working in the garden and roared out to say what the hell was this all about, they weren't intending to leave. Son said they had been given plenty of notice. Tenant two came out to say he had signed a new lease with the agent. The agent said no they hadn't and hand-delivered a letter confirming they had to leave end of month. They responded by putting a padlock on their gate. The next time son was in the garden a vast woman descended on him, 'introducing' herself as his worst fcuking nightmare and telling him he'd need a fcuking court order and good luck trying to get one.

Legally, and I think in most countries, my friend faces a long wearisome expensive struggle. Rather hoping that the CS collective can dredge up suggestions that fall within legal but are effective? I found a few beauties on line but they all required fairly specific circumstances or were borderline dodgy - I've passed those on anyway.

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Odd couple

I met these people, and for all I know they met on CS although that would be a fantastic coincidence and, if they read this blog, a little embarrassing. So I shall say nice things. They ARE nice.

He is, I don't know, middle-aged, very fit and bronzed, good-looking, with a drop-dead-gorgeous French accent for the perhaps 2 dozen English words he knows. Which is about as many French words as I know. He does also speak a little Spanish. About as much as I do. That's really not a lot of Spanish.

She is a little younger, mid to late forties? extremely attractive, Spanish, lives a few hours up the coast from here. She speaks no French and no English.

They are staying a week. Would you go away on holiday with someone you basically couldn't understand or speak to except in the most general of terms? For a week?

Opera blog

RIP Montserrat Caballé, one of the great singers from my new country. She was 85

Don't imagine many opera buffs in CS but some may remember the opening ceremony of the Barcelona Olympics in 1992 - not live, as Freddie Mercury had died the year before. The video is "Barcelona" being performed in 1988. Piss off your neighbours, play it really loud.

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No-one gets disappointed any more - they are devastated
No-one has unpleasant experiences any more - they are traumatized
Everything that happens is the worst - or the greatest - thing that ever happened EVER
Not a story comes out that doesn't need a little extra spin to take it over the top. Them's the rules.
And people can no longer disagree on anything without it turning into WW3 and tears before bedtime.

I'm having a not great day, my school link has crashed and keeps crashing, it's on the college end but still a bit of a bugger because I really want that teaching income right now. Lots of expenses popping up out of the woodwork all at the same time, you know how it goes, they always come in threes.

I'm not devastated, or traumatized, but you know what? I think I should be. There's obviously something wrong with me


I shan't feel right until I feel truly shattered.
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Comparing the mangle to a glove filled with porridge

Handshakes fascinate me. I think mine is ok, but then I would. Some offer just the fingers, or the vrot (rotting) banana. Some seize a hand as if ringing in the new year.

I'm never sure whether to adjust my handshake to the other person. If I'm offered a glove filled with porridge, for instance, there's that second when I have to decide whether I still squeeze. (And will their eyes pop if I do laugh). If they're mangling, do we turn it into a version of the arm-wrestle until one of us is forced to his or her knees ...

And did you ever shake hands with either of your parents and realize to your surprise they favour a different style? THAT was weird uh oh

I looked on Google and there are dozens of variations, who knew. There's the handshake that asserts, the one that shows total lack of interest, the con-artist (over-long and seeking to dominate) and the passive personality. A hand offered palm up seeks domination, a hand offered palm down seeks to dominate.

Two things I never thought about - the 'senior' person must always offer their hand first - don't force a handshake on a potential employer (I don't think I ever have uh oh) and one social guideline insisted the handshake is maintained - and pumping - all the time you are exchanging names. I know I tend to be a quick-drop, not a lingerer. (Unless I suddenly realize I have to go through the entire complicated 'dancing' handshake of Africa.)

Obviously we all think our own handshake is right, wondered though what you assume about the person offering a 'different' shake dunno (Apart of course from the palm tickle giggle)

Now I live in kissy-kissy land and have learned not to stick my hand out or I find myself poking someone in their stomach as they swoop in for the airkiss on either cheek. That's an issue in itself. Kiss air, touch skin, plant a smacker ... help
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At last, a day for so many on CS to celebrate as their own

Monday 24th September is a day tailor-made for most bloggers on CS and since one can't get in too early on these important holidays, I hope to be the first blog wishing the rest of you a suitably celebratory time. This is the perfect bloggers day.

Have a great International Grumpy Fcuker Day on Monday 24th.

Whoop whoop.

And if you are of the more light-hearted type (a) please blog more (b) here's a Hell Club mash for you. It might only appeal to older grumpy fcukers but since there were a lot of actors I didn't recognize, they may be young crowd type. I don't go to films much, half the time they are remakes anyway or just crap. Still, any mash combining a few Jedi, John Travolta, the arse Cruise on bar, the Michaels Jackson and Douglas, and the ever-returning Arnie, deserves a glance. You can get grumpy about the quality of the mash, if nothing else.

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Meanwhile here in Spain

Yesterday I was in Orgiva, a small town in the Alpujarras and did have my camera. I'm not a good photographer, though.

Pics - Orgiva is hot enough to shade its main street - I do enjoy the effect when towns do.

This particular bit of road is watched over by this gent. I have no idea who he is. I did walk round him looking for a plaque.

The reason I was in Orgiva was to put my 9-year-old UK car through the first and vital stage of becoming a 9-year-old Spanish car - the ITV test. Since its last MOT in the UK it has driven to and around Spain, been used as a mini truck for building supplies, lived in the street and been bumped and scraped and peed on by dogs and crapped on by birds and not had a single service. It passed. Damn I love this car.

The ITV station is not in Orgiva, but nearby in the mountains. I don't know what other advantages the site may have but the view is good while you wait your turn laugh

and now for something completely different. I live in a town, without a garden, and the townhouse has 10 foot walls. I have some plants in my atrium, at least 40 yards from the nearest garden, and they have been there a couple of months. These chives have died and I think this is the culprit but - how the hell did he get here?

dunno confused

I did say I'm not a good photographer.
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Giraffe in snow

REALLY starting to worry about Eks now. Hoping all SA bloggers affected by blizzards are keeping well-wrapped up and warm hug

This pic one of several taken by a photographer called Kitty Viljoen near Graaff-Reinet (Eastern Cape) - fab photo, frightening implications. Hope this is a fleeting situation, I was in my 20s when it snowed early in September (spring in the southern hemisphere) and JHB came to a joyful stop but it was just a couple of days. In other words, doesn't happen often.

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My Trump blog

Hey, back off. It’s a rite of passage as a CS blogger to have a blog on this superhot topic, if you can’t fight ‘em join ‘em, and other sundry excuses for the heading of this blog. Actually I am only talking about one aspect, because it was a point of empathy and has cropped up occasionally in my blogs (or comments) since I first started blogging here. ‘Fake news’.

very mad I hate that the media feed us only what they think we should know
very mad I hate that they tell us about oh-so-awful things happening halfway across the world and distract us from what is happening under our noses, which we really ought to know
very mad The old phrase about 3 sides to every story - his, hers, and the truth - has become the media’s creed, except none deal in the unvarnished, unslanted, unmassaged truth moping

So when the candidate Trump back in the day attacked ‘fake news’ I thought well, good. About time someone high-profile took them to task.

Have they stopped? Have they hell. All he did was join in this bizarre pissing competition. Every time he tells a whopper, or completely contradicts himself and insists he hadn’t, up bounces the media with proof it was a whopper or a contradiction. Result? Our media of choice is the only ones we can trust? No they bloody aren’t. But thanks VERY much Mr T for giving them credibility. They’re worse than ever. The Washington Post claims he made over 2000 false claims in his first year, and has made over 4000 false claims in the last six months. On July 5th at a rally he made over 70 assertions that were ‘false, misleading or unsupported by evidence’.

If you are anti-Trump, woohoo. If you are pro-Trump it’s just more fake news. If you’re me, your eyes glaze over. The media are simply giving themselves a feeding frenzy so they can squabble at huge length over minute details.

And oh yes he lies. Some are stupid, pointless lies, told again and again, although the facts are a matter of historical record. “You know, a poll just came out that I am the most popular person in the history of the Republican Party -- 92 per cent. Beating Lincoln. I beat our Honest Abe." GWB once hit 95%. dunno And they didn’t have polls back in Lincoln’s day. dunno

You know, I just realized the other day, they told me -- when we won the state of Wisconsin, it hadn't been won by a Republican since Dwight D. Eisenhower in 1952. Did you know that? And I won Wisconsin." Eisenhower won it again in 1956. Nixon won it in 1960, 1968 and 1972. Reagon won it in 1980. Winning it again after 36 years would have been worth saying - and true. But let’s not bother the facts.

The Stormy Daniels media frenzy had an echo of Bill Clinton at the start - I never met the woman. I don’t know anything about a payoff. And now we have to thank a particularly sleazy lawyer for recording his conversation with his client (WTF) to know that was a big porkie. Man, the media are loving that one. See? SEE? We aren’t the biggest liars!

I’m not even going to the infamous meeting - the one that never happened. Okay, it happened but was about adoption. Okay it wasn’t about adoption but we never used the information we got - that's a never-ending story, that one.

And oh I wish in this pissing-highest-against-the-wall war he would stop saying ‘I never said that’ when he must, FFS, know he not only said it, he said it on live TV, or in a recorded interview. frustrated

So although I called this a Trump blog it is my rant against fake news, cherry-picking facts, slanting or embellishing or ignoring facts, and all of you so enthusiastically perpetuating the lies. I rarely comment on Trump blogs - mainly when the facts given are skewed - and I get attacked every time. Not expecting comments - unless a valid correction to anything I said. This is just a rite of passage blog. smile
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It's official. Australians are the best men to meet.

This is a dinkum Australian love poem, and if it don't bring a lump to your throat, and have you rushing to the Strine men listed here on CS, you're one fussy old cow is all I can say.

Of course I love ya darlin'
You're a bloody top-notch bird
And when I say you're gorgeous
I mean every single word

So ya bum is on the big side
I don't mind a bit of flab
It means that when I'm ready
There's somethin' there to grab

So your belly isn't flat no more
I tell ya, I don't care
So long as when I cuddle ya
I can get my arms round there

No Sheila who’s your age
Has such perky breasts
They just gave in to gravity
But I know ya did ya best

I'm tellin' ya the truth now
I never tell ya lies
I think it’s very sexy
That you've got dimples on ya thighs

I swear on me Nanna's grave now
The moment that we met
I thought you was as good as
I was ever gonna get

No matter what you look like
I'll always love ya dear
Now shut up while the cricket’s on
And fetch me another beer!

Brought a lump to my throat, it did. Here's your beer, pet. smitten
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"They say such nice things about people at funerals

that it makes me sad I'm going to miss mine by just a few days" (Garrison Keillor)

Ok, a lot will depend how or when you kick the bucket. Be drunk and driving the world's most famous divorcee through a tunnel in Paris and you won't get a parade. The divorcee in question, though, went overnight from being jeered at and mocked for her behaviour, to near sainthood. wow

Bill Cosby would have had a fantastic funeral 10 years ago, back when he was still remembered as the TV-watching world's favourite father.

Not all love the dearly departed - when the subject first rose (a while before she died) about former UK PM Margaret Thatcher being given a state funeral, the ever-bitter Scottish comedian Frankie Boyle said why spend the money, just give every Scot a spade and we'd dig down far enough to hand her over to Satan in person. (As a hybrid Tory I would have smacked him on the head with the spade and handed it back, but that's by the by)

Of course there are porkies told. Itchy said in one blog she thought she'd gone to the wrong funeral.

And the reason I thought I'd blog about it (you knew there'd be a reason eventually roll eyes) is that we describe ourselves here as we want to be seen, and if we abruptly stopped logging in forever tomorrow, leaving our profile up, that's how we'll be remembered in this funny little cyber world.

If real-life friends or family read those profiles after we shuffle off this mortal coil, wonder how many would learn something about us, how many would agree, how many would think wow, who knew he / she was such a fibber ... uh oh

Okay no-one is going to rush off to re-word their profile into a eulogy. But if there's anything you'd not want forgotten (or would want taken into consideration, yer Honour) ...

ADDED after first exchange. Hey, could be interesting to see what others say when asked to sum up our lives in a positive way. Can't see that going nuclear in ANY way. roll eyes Maybe not.
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Turns out that communicating with others literally affects our health more than diet, exercise, even our addictions.

Seeing my interaction in Spain mainly consists of a cheery 'hola!' and cheesy grin while I'm marching my dog round the streets, or going into shops with a hesitant 'necesito ...' + point / mime, I guess I am stuck with popping in here every now and then. Biggest incentive I have yet for learning Spanish and getting out and meeting more people, mind


I will be logging back in to make health-improving comments (#HIC) at regular intervals on this and other blogs. I wonder what the best dosage is? Make 3 comments, 4 times a day?

Here's that study

If you don't or can't follow the link - the lassie postulates that social intergration is more important to longevity / quality of life than family, quitting smoking / drinking, de-stressing, doing exercise, maintaining healthy weight, diet, even clean air. Scary thought.
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LoveToDance67: "Think you know me?"(meet us in the quizzes)
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