Category: that’s a bit mad

Have you not heard of squash?

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Spotted on a local Facebook feed this morning:

What? No. That’s simply not right.

You know that I’m not the biggest fan of padel. But that’s neither here nor there in this instance.
Because I’m not really into squash either, but I do know enough about it to know that hitting the wall is very much part of the game there. It’s pretty much the entire way of playing the game.

Ask Google about padel and it says:

Padel is often described as a cross between tennis and squash. It’s played on a court similar to tennis but smaller and enclosed by walls, which are used as part of the game like in squash.

“Squash”, you say?
“Walls”? Hmm.

It’s hardly subtle stuff. The clues really are all there.

What makes this even funnier (for me, but then I’m still recovering from that meeting) is that ironically, Bredasdorp (where this padel tank is) is very much an Afrikaans speaking area (83.1% first language), and the Afrikaans word for squash is Muurbal, which literally translates as “wall ball”.
I actually only worked this out this a few years back when driving past the Bredasdorp Muurbalklub, and they’d cut the trees back.

See?

I’m just waiting for Miskey’s to open their 10-pin bowling business: “the only sport where rolling a ball is actually part of the plan!”. Although I’m sure that the Bredasdorp Rolbalklub (yes, seriously) would have something to say about that.

Quick joke

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What do you call a Frenchman fighting a tiger?

Claude.

I laughed. Briefly.

I’ve been at a neighbourhood committee meeting for the past 3½ hours. My sense of humour might be slightly warped as a result.

A great walk, ruined

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Yesterday was a wild one. The rain cleared out early in the morning, but the wind persisted all day, and I couldn’t resist an afternoon walk with the camera and some Norwegian deep house. I did just about 7km and saw several (or more) birds, including this Caspian Tern (Hydroprogne caspia)…

…the world’s largest tern, which apparently has “a subcosmopolitan but scattered distribution”. (i.e. It’s found all over the world, but only in patchy or isolated areas all over the world. Rasper Point was one of those areas yesterday afternoon.

All was going well, and I was really enjoying my time, when suddenly, I saw someone else on my beach.

Walk. Ruined.

Absolutely shocking.
How very dare they? Do they not know the rules of windy, weekday afternoons on the Agulhas coast?

That’s my time, on my beach, with my Caspian Terns and my Norwegian deep house music.

Go and find somewhere else to be. Honestly.

God works in mysterious ways

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So goes the well-known saying.
But even I doubt that God has worked in a more mysterious way than getting people in Mexico to worship in front of a massive effigy of his son, but one that looks like Phil Collins.

Yes:

Well, I suppose that Phil – now 74 – has been around for a while. He was in Genesis, and that’s the very first book of the Bible. I must admit that I had always thought that there was at least one woman and a snake involved, but when I checked up on this, I found that the other protagonists were called Tony and Mike.

I never really paid much attention in R.E. though.
Well, at the time, you never really consider that you’ll need some of that knowledge for a blog post several (or more) decades on, do you?

Anyway, I don’t know if anyone at the church is a big fan of Phil Collins, but you’d have to imagine that someone at the Jesus moulding factory is. Things like this don’t just happen for no reason. There’s definitely a hidden message in this story.

[don’t forget to insert a suitably amusing Phil Collins song title here to finish the post]

It burns, burns, burns…

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Things that aren’t funny:
– People shooting guns.
– Wanton vandalism.
– Disrespecting music performers.
– Wasting water.

Things that are actually a bit funny:
– All of the above, together.

Don’t believe me? Look at this:

The shot wasn’t quite perfect. And I know that I shouldn’t be laughing, because of all those reasons above. But it is actually a bit funny – and pretty good publicity for the town. And I suspect that the authorities in Kingsland also recognise that, by the way that they haven’t bothered to plug the leak, even after a week of their hero relieving himself from a great height.