Showing posts with label Licence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Licence. Show all posts

Sunday, October 14, 2012

The Pen Licence - Pish Posh

Welcome to the first ever guest post on Swinging like a rusty gate. Set your front face to excited because it is by the awesome Pish Posh. I first met Pish Posh through another blog, and clicked through from her comments and got to know her. She drew me a picture for one of my posts once, but I was already hooked. She has a charming, fun, and sincere style that you can't help but enjoy. So ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the page Pish Posh.

You know Australians are different. They drive on the wrong side of the road, they get flagrant with their vowels, they’re vague with directions – Walkabout? Outback? Could you be a little more specific please? – they make tear-jerker movies like Red Dog that help me remove my mascara without even trying, and they’ve held certain of my family members hostage for years.  And they have really big spiders. Crikey!
Apparently, they also have something called “pen-licenses.” I learned this when Rusty sent in his stories to our new book collection All Cracked Up. His stories are some of my favorites – sweet, funny, and affectionate.

In “Dogs Cry Out in the Night” for example, he tells the sweet story of his dad masturbating the family pet. Well, not exactly. But sort of. Let’s just say his story includes the line “How many years of school do vets have to do just to wank off dogs?”

Mr. Rusty of Manliness, in “Beards: Holding My Soup since 2003,” he about how manly his face is, or at least its ability to grow hair. In fact, bearded men are so manly because they think about boobs a lot. Because like a chia pet that just keeps on growing, the more a man thinks about breasts the more his testosterone spikes and the more his facial hair grows. So the next time you see a bearded fella, you can be sure he’s thinking about boobies. In fact, some men just grew a beard by reading the word boobies. From the US to Australia, men are thinking about boobs and growing their beards. I’m glad I could help.

One part of this story that you won’t see though is his reference to a pen-license. Because what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about? And I made him take it out. Apparently Australians get pen-licenses because the government is afraid of their rampant vowel usage. And endless letter-writing and graffiti-by-pen. Actually in grammar school, when their handwriting is legible they can get permission to stop using a pencil and begin using a pen. HOLY HELL BALLS!



What if we had licenses for everything like that? I would like my boyfriend to have a license to go to the grocery store. Because 45 minutes to find the salami is too long - and no that is not a euphemism. If it was, 45 minutes of hide the salami would be just fine, if you know what I mean. His problem isn’t hiding it, his problem is finding it. Like the socks he searches the house for, and are, gasp, in his sock drawer. Although if he had to get a license to do the grocery shopping, he would intentionally fail and I’d end up doing the shopping, so nothing would change. This is apparently his scheme on loading the dishwasher.

But how about licenses for other things? I think some people should have a license to dress themselves in the morning. A license for how to behave in public, and a license for how to be a good sibling. But, the most important license of all would be the license to have children. Now before you jump down my throat, y’all know there are people out there who just shouldn’t keep making more of themselves. Smurf Village is full.

But thank god we have pen-licenses. Otherwise, we’d have all these kids running around with permanently bad penmanship. And that, ladies and gentlemen, would be the game-changer.

Anyway, so Rusty can grow a beard, used to have a well-satisfied canine, and is on vacation. Show him you love him. Check out our book!



Amazon page for All Cracked Up
Junipaya.com for our publishing company Junipaya Productions
Pish Posh.com for my site if you’d like to debate the value of pen-licenses with me

Grab the code on the sidebar to add our button to your page:

Much Love to Rusty-Fans

Pish Posh

Thanks Pish! By the way my spell checker went nuts with all the missing vowels. Get cracking on the comments for your chance to win a copy of my book. Next week we have a new blogger to the scene

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

One Bark for right, two barks for left

Because I am last with your breaking technological news, you may be aware that Google released footage of their computer driven car. It essentially does what is in the name, it is a car driven by a computer. “So what” you say, “it’s just a dude in a bad suit driving a piece of shit Prius with a bad paint job. There is no way what-so-ever that this could be interesting. I would even rather watch Mythbusters than waste YouTube time on that.”

And I thought my car had a blind spot
The reason why this car is cool is that it was driven by a man not on Mythbusters, and who is leagally blind. 95% blind we find out in the video. I bet you’re regretting that bad suit comment now. Probably not the Prius one though. Its okay, he wasn't actually wearing a suit.

The man with the questionable licence is known as Steve Mahan to his parents.  From his home he picked up his dry cleaning, went through the drive through of Taco Bell, and then headed home not touching the steering wheel, accelerator, or even the brake pedal once, and completely unaided. How awesome is that? I like to think that he got cut-off and used an app to give the knob the finger.

This is a triumph for engineers down at Google, and more independence on the horizon for people who need it. Things like this might have been done before at universities around the world, but they generally required the use of signal reference points along the road, or were alone on a test track. Google’s engineering team have had this baby on highways travelling at speed, navigating regular traffic, and I wouldn't be surprised if it has helped move house once or twice.

From here we can develop algorithms to dictate the best way for traffic to flow and we can remove human error from accidents. Depending on how "naughty" you have set your filter search options, you may end up at a different toy store than you were planning.

While this will ultimately make things easier for drivers, I do think we have created a few more problems. Namely do you call road side assistance, a tow truck, or IT tech support?

“Hello, yeah I can’t get my car to start. No, it was working before. Did the car crash or did the computer crash? I think it might be the computer, I was driving along and then it stopped. Have I tried turning it off and on again? Not yet...”

I find this exciting because I hate driving to work. I would rather kick back and eat some breakfast or catch up on the morning blogs. No all the things you do and love on the bus/train/tram/tandem bicycle you can do in your car. You want to air guitar to La Grange with ZZ Top on the way to work like my mate and fellow Adelaide comedian Michael? Why not push that driver’s seat back and play a real guitar? If you don’t play guitar you have 30mins a day to and from work to learn.

What would be the first thing you do when trying auto pilot for the first time?

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Losing control on the P

With the new South Australian L and P plate laws coming into affect there has been many announcements in the media. Even the likes of Hamish and Andy have done their part to make the Government look hip and cool in ways the Lycra of Lance Armstrong’s twitter could never do, but it did conjure mental images of Mike Rann in a sideways baseball cap and shiny baggy jeans busting rhymes...

Yo
I’m so hip hop that I’ll make you pop and roll
Kicking some ass in power and polls
Twistin’ the acts without a tax hike
On yer bike with Mike on the mic
Tour down under splitting libs asunder
How did we win is what the people wonder
When the farce of a new footy park
The bill decided with a game of darts
Comes into action, a new grand erection
Not to be found in a waitress's affection
The bill to rise higher and higher
From the State’s most renowned liar
Rolley polley slowly Kevin Foley
Will show the tax payers how much they will owe me
The greed overtaking need to feed
All the crows supporters too good for free
Buses provided they need not to drive
But rather just come out they whinge and jive
I tell you the hardest thing to do
Is to tell two thirds of voters to get screwed
But what do they know
Peace.

Adelaide does not need a new stadium.

Sorry I digress. You will never be hip and cool Mister Rann. Trust me – it takes one to know one.

Speaking of not being hip or cool and on P plates, I got my P’s at 16.5 years old, and the day I passed the test I went mountain bike riding. I was never really that into cars, and I was never that good of a driver. The year was 2001, the state was South Australia, there was one driving test, and there was no such thing as P plate levels. After your stint on P plates it was easy sailing to get your full licence. All you had to do is not lose three demerit points.

I am not going to advocate that the new system is better or the system of yesteryear keeps more kids alive, because both systems are shit. One test does not prove anything; five million will not do much better. The only thing it will test is the Government wanting more money from you every time you have to upgrade your licence if you are persistent and keen enough.

I got a good score from my driving test. I got 96% and some of my friends got 100%. Did this make me a good driver? No it did not, because of the simple fact that the goal of this process, from an instructor point of view, is to produce results for the client. The easy way to show results is to teach how to pass the test and not to teach skills that will keep you alive. Yes learning how to parallel park is important, but I would have thought emergency evasion techniques to be more so.

Do L plate drivers know how a car feels when the back end starts sliding out? Have they physically tested the minimum stopping distance for their car? How about in the wet as well? You can show pictures, animations and actual video until your blue in the face but 50m behind the steering wheel looks different than in the class room.

My father had the wisdom to show me this. He took me out into the scrub in the family car and he let me run wild. He told me to lose control to learn what it felt like and how to get out of it without panicking. Panicking happens and that is the killer. When you panic you amplify your problems and cars are not merciful.

On my first long haul drive on my P plates I had an accident that could have been much worse than it was without this experience. I was driving through the country; Mum and I pulled out of a service station after our two hour break and got back onto the highway. I was eating an ice cream at the time (correction, I was licking an ice cream very slowly because it was bloody expensive) and as I was driving along the ice cream slipped in my fingers a little forcing me to fumble and not pay attention to the road.

Mum yelled at me. I looked up and only half of the car was on the bitumen. I turned to get back on to the road; the back end slipped away. I over corrected and the back went the other way. I corrected again with no luck. I stopped fighting and hit the skids. We skidded off the road, down the embankment, and into a fence. Mum was pissed, as you can imagine, but we and the car were okay.

I felt the car go and I did not panic. I could not gain control, I was scared, but I did not panic. If I kept fighting the car I could have saved it, or we could have flipped and it could have been worse.

Take your kids out and let them lose control under controlled conditions. An advanced driving course teaches skills that can save your life and money on your insurance. Petition for these skills to be mandatory to your State MP, and make sure your kids do not drive anything too much older than 10 years.

Yes your first car should be a bomb, as it is the car you are more than likely ding. But your kids should survive that ding.