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  • #46
    No news from Expat yet. Maybe abducted by aliens???

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    • #47
      Originally posted by calmone View Post
      It does happen, we have just released some spirits from a house and allowed them to pass in peace. The temperature in the room they were settled in has risen about 4 degrees since the passing.

      If you do feel things, let it happen it is a gift you have been given.
      Blimey!Better than a heatpump
      Jo Birch
      Looking for someone to manage your next project or event? Then call now!
      +61 450 148 678

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      • #48
        Get your passport stamped for the spirit world here - only $500.
        My Profile

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        • #49
          You just said what??!!??!!??!!

          Originally posted by exnzpat View Post
          ...
          Purchase Price: $45,000

          Monthly Mortgage: $255.51

          Monthly Insurance and Tax: $160.00

          Current Market Value: $170,000 (or thereabouts)
          .....

          Call me old fashioned call me irressponsible......BUT I would say that the:

          Current Market Value:

          is $45,000

          Cheers
          Spaceman

          Comment


          • #50
            Yes SpiritMasters has a good ring to it, thanks Austro.

            $50 evenening seminar this Saturday. Will tell about the up and coming weekend seminar where you learn the real stuff. And very affordable at only $4k per person ($3k if you pay in the next 5 mins, only 39 places left!).

            Plus all the dvds, books, games and accessories you can shake a set of chains at.

            DGB (Daves Ghost Busters) a division of SpiritMastery Netherworld Academy
            Squadly dinky do!

            Comment


            • #51
              Day 4



              I got a good night sleep last night and was up by 8am. I took the wallpaper remover back to the rental place and spent the rest of the morning washing and cleaning the walls. Wallpaper glue is a bitch!

              Just before lunch, as I was coming out of the hallway bathroom, I eyed the crawlspace access panel into the attic. The access panel was just outside the Master bedroom. I couldn’t help but think of the Furnace mans story. What a load of nonsense. I went and got the small wooden step ladder, the one I use for indoor work, and set it up under the panel.

              One of the things I like doing during in a rehab job is to add extra lighting. Lighting is an easy accessory. Buyers and renters will pay a lot more for a home that has good lighting! Two sconces placed either side of where the Master bed would be would be a nice touch.

              You may be wondering how I know how to do all this stuff. Well, it came about, not by not being able to afford to have work done by licensed electricians or plumbers and the like, but by the shear frustration of waiting for them to arrive! Anyone who has ever needed simple things done about their house such as a hanging a new light or fixing a leaky faucet knows exactly what I’m talking about. I only do simple stuff and over the years have gotten quite good at electrical, plumbing, woodworking, dry wall, flooring and painting. I don’t touch big stuff like electrical panels (other than simple circuit breakers) or run new water piping. But, I don’t hesitate to tackle simple things, and it is the simple things that run up your costs during a rehab. For example: while the cowardly Furnace and Air Conditioning Man worked on my furnace I was watching him very closely. And while I may not have picked up the nuances of his work, I did see what and how he did it. With the furnace he simply unscrewed the front cover and removed an array of small metal nozzles. These nozzles he cleaned with a wire brush. I have a wire brush– ergo, I can do his job – and I won’t spend a couple days waiting for him to show up, and my time is free! Over the years I’ve saved literally thousands of dollars by knowing how to do this stuff. Plus I enjoy it.

              Adding the sconces will take only a few minutes.

              Taking my measuring tape I roughed out an estimate for the locations of the sconces. I went down into the basement and shutoff the main power. I still had not mapped the circuit panel and did not want to take any chances. I selected the tools that I would need for the job and cut three lengths at 15 feet each of standard house wire.

              The attic was what you would expect in a ranch-style house. The roof above me was too low to stand beneath but I could crouch at least. A couple of sheets of cheap pine board had been set down to create some storage space. Neither board was nailed in place. Good; I can use one of them to scoot across the rafters and use as a platform to work from. Until you have fallen through a ceiling you can’t appreciate this concept -- and I’ve fallen through plenty of ceilings – much to the annoyance of Mrs. Exnzpat! No pity – just annoyance.

              With flashlight in hand I looked about the attic. Over a bed of pink insulation snaked power and telephone lines. On one of the pine boards sat a crumpled dusty cardboard box. I peered in – just an assortment of old toys and tied stacks of papers. Some little metal cars and bits and pieces of a Lego set etc. Junk. One of the bundles of papers looked to be letters and it caught my eye just as I was about to push the box away. The letters were old and dusty, and quite hard to read in the dim light of my flashlight; the country on the return address of the top letter was New Zealand. Hey! Talk about coincidence! I’ll have to get this box down later and go through it when I have more time. But for now I closed it up and went to work.

              After a little dithering about I managed to get the board slid against what is the bedroom wall. With my handy-dandy battery charged drill I popped three holes into the cross piece and pushed my three wires down the three holes to about six feet or so. I looked for and found a wire that was running (to what I presumed was the power outlet in the hallway) and spliced in my three wires I enclosed the lot in a metal housing and screwed it onto the closest cross-piece. And that’s it – done. It only took about fifteen minutes.

              I gathered up my tools and looked down through the panel into the hallway below.

              “Hi Lincoln” I said. Lincoln was standing by the Master bedroom door next to the ladder. And then, when he saw me he began to growl; low at first and then…

              “Hey, Lincoln it’s just me.” I said.

              But, Lincoln’s growl turned vicious. His teeth bared and the hackles on the back of his neck picked up. His growl turned into a full-scale-attack warning.

              “Lincoln?”

              Lincoln was a Lab mix. He is a big powerful dog, his other half, Bull Terrier, is not his better half. And right at that moment that Terrier was really showing, square jaw, flat head. A violent growl interspersed with sharp dangerous barks. And big, big yellowed teeth. With his hackles up he looked twice the size.

              Not exactly sure how to handle this; I stared down at him and thought about my options. I sure as hell wasn’t going down there, not at least until he calmed down. But, at the same time, I couldn’t spend all day up here – I had work to do!

              But, then I noticed something about Lincoln. It all happened so fast. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking past me. Oh my God! Do you know what the feeling is like when someone is standing behind you? Watching you! Do you? That’s exactly what I felt. Someone was behind me! And that was why Lincoln was going ballistic!

              Every hair on my body pricked up. Every nerve ending tingled and my body stiffened with fear. I wanted to turn and look but couldn’t bring myself to do it. All the while Lincoln, at the bottom of ladder, was trying his best to defend me! I dragged myself out of the crawlspace and practically threw myself down the ladder. When I reached the floor I looked up.

              There was something, what, I’m not sure. But, a wisp of gossamer, a trick of the light maybe; I’m not sure but I do know that my nerves were definitely frazzled. In all my life I have never been so scared. When I hit the floor Lincoln’s demeanor changed. He was shaken himself. But, like a good dog he came to me and wouldn’t stop licking me. I dumped my tools where I sat and the both of us went outside for some much needed fresh air.

              Time for an assessment:

              First, I don’t believe in Ghosts. Second, I really did not have time for a haunted house. But, it does appear, on the face of it, that I do have some sort of supernatural problem. Over the years, with many houses under my belt, I have owned some houses that have definitely given me the creeps. But, this was different. Dare I say it – almost physical. I once owned a hundred and fifty year old home in a three hundred year old neighborhood that, when night fell, was just positively spooky. But, that was it, a little restlessness before sleep finally came, but other than that – nothing. So, why should this forty year old ranch house be different?

              As for whitt’s expectations of photos and an address -- that is now completely out of the question. I had considered it, but now it is best to keep this private and local. It is one thing for the local townspeople to know of my predicament -- it is a whole other thing for it to become public knowledge. The last thing I need is for my investment to fall flat on its face before it has even begun! Therefore, I hope you will forgive me if we keep it this way.

              I sat on the front porch rubbing Lincoln’s ears and chin, while I considered the situation.

              After about an hour, and after Lincoln had wondered off into the yard to sniff at something, I went back into the house. Basically, I decided, that ghost or no ghost I needed to finish the rehab and get this place rented. It was that simple.

              I cleaned up the hallway of my fallen tools and after closing the access panel (I did peek back up into the attic – no spooks) and put the ladder away. I turned back on the power and went into the kitchen and made some lunch and put some fresh water out for Lincoln. After some food I felt better and decided to spend the rest of the day in the yard. Mrs. Exnzpat would be here tomorrow night with the kids, and a cut lawn, and trimmed bushes and hedges would be just the touch the place needed to give the impression that our money had been well spent.

              I worked outside until about 7pm. It was hot hard work, but satisfying. By the time I finished I had gathered a large pile of yard waste which I dumped unceremoniously on the drive way. The house had, instead of a garage, a car port attached to its side. Not unusual in this climate, but rare. Then I realized my mistake. My truck was still under the car port and my pile of weeds, leaves, branches and grass cuttings were blocking my exit. Damn! I spent an extra half-hour moving the pile onto my newly cut and trimmed lawn and then moved the truck out onto the street. Tomorrow morning (Friday) the dumpster, or “skip” as you call them in New Zealand, is supposed to be delivered. Just like in New Zealand, when someone brings a dumpster into a neighborhood, the neighbors begin using it for themselves. So the plan was to have the dumpster delivery guy offload the thing as high up onto my driveway as he could get it. This way, if the neighbors got any ideas, they would have to come up onto the property to do their business. Little deterrents like that come from experience.

              After diner I took Lincoln for a walk; which he thoroughly enjoyed. When we returned to the house I noticed Jim, my neighbor, sitting on his front porch. He beckoned for me to come over.

              “Sorry, I cut you off short the other day. Would you like a coffee?” He said.

              “A little late – but if you have a decaff – I’d be interested.” Jim went inside and I made myself comfortable on a cushioned chair on his front porch.”

              After a few minutes Jim returned with a metal tray and two cups, and a carafe of coffee. “Do you want some cream and sugar?”

              “Please.”

              Jim handed me a cup and we chatted amiably about the weather. Eventually, he came around to what amounted to an apology for his son Michael cutting him off the other day when I brought up the “scream.”

              It seems that Michael had been friends with a boy who had lived in the house the previous year and had had a bad experience in the house. The boy and his family had moved out and Michael refused to go near the house again. Michael said the house was haunted. And basically, anything to do with my house just freaked him out.

              I asked Jim what he thought.

              “Well, I’ve heard some odd noises coming from the house. But, nothing that would make me believe that the house was haunted – not that I’d know what a haunted house sounded like.”

              That, I thought was a good point. What exactly does a haunted house sound like? Does anyone know? Is it chains rattling in the hallways, grabbing hands, screaming in the night? It makes you think doesn’t it? I once read that physiologists considered people who experienced hallucinations, like haunting, and visions as suffering from mini seizures in the temporal lobe portion of their brains -- and the experience can actually be induced in a laboratory by scientists. It makes you think doesn’t it, and true or not, the very idea demonstrates the mechanized nature of our bodies and the mechanization of our universe. All things can be explained, and while I couldn’t explain what had happened up in the attic today, it gave me good measure, that somewhere out there an explanation was waiting.

              I liked Jim and decided that I was lucky to have him as a neighbor. His practicality gave me strength to bid him goodnight and head back into the house for a shower and bed.
              Erewhon is still erehwon, I don’t see it changing anytime soon.

              http://exnzpat.blogspot.com/

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              • #52
                Originally posted by Davo36 View Post
                Yes SpiritMasters has a good ring to it, thanks Austro.

                $50 evenening seminar this Saturday. Will tell about the up and coming weekend seminar where you learn the real stuff. And very affordable at only $4k per person ($3k if you pay in the next 5 mins, only 39 places left!).

                Plus all the dvds, books, games and accessories you can shake a set of chains at.

                DGB (Daves Ghost Busters) a division of SpiritMastery Netherworld Academy
                Thats all small time stuff, if I'm going to do it I have do it big time
                I need to know how much to purchase a franchise, initial cost/monthly payments etc and the ongoing coaching contract. Can I sell sub-franchises off my main one ? Which worldwide contracts are still available ? Whats the story with the affliate partnerships, joint ventures into new products, spiritbuster-lite, film rights, legal advisory partnerships, structures, you are being far too vague, or is this stuff covered in the acadamy ?

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                • #53
                  This obviously another long-winded joke... can't believe it now has it's own thread!
                  My Profile

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                  • #54
                    Originally posted by drelly View Post
                    This obviously another long-winded joke... can't believe it now has it's own thread!
                    It has TWO!

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                    • #55
                      Day 5

                      I got another good sleep last night and woke relatively refreshed.

                      Today was the day I measured for the new kitchen. Pretty much everything was going to be trashed, so I needed to get it measured up and the new stuff ordered. I had some breakfast, and spent about fifteen minutes measuring things out. I tidied up and sat with coffee and Lincoln out on the front porch waiting for the Dumpster to arrive. Around 9am it arrived and with much bumping and clanking the thing sat squarely in the driveway -- just daring the neighbors to put their crap in it!

                      I dumped in the old Master bedroom carpet and other accumulated junk that I stacked under the carport and yesterday’s yard waste. Before leaving the house I went into the basement and fired off three “Foggers” to kill the bugs. The “Fogger” spreads a fine mist of bug poison up and through the house. I had noticed there was a whole bunch of spiders and other creepy-crawlies down there and hopefully this would do the trick.

                      I loaded Lincoln and myself into the truck and headed for the hardware store.

                      I purchased an array of pre-built pine cabinets. It sounds cheap, but with two coats of high gloss white paint - these things would look sharp. For the kitchens floor I choose a blond wood grained Pergo – a very hardy and tough product. I also purchased a cream colored refrigerator, a cream colored gas stove and a cream colored dishwasher. I made arrangements to have the appliances delivered and installed on Monday morning, and then headed back for home. The Pergo and the cabinets were loaded into the truck.

                      Once back at the house I parked the truck up the driveway as far as I could get it; because of the dumpster. I unloaded the new cabinets and carried them up under the carport. Once there I set up a makeshift paint stand and began work priming the cabinets. One by one I primed them and set each one aside when done.

                      I went inside and rustled up some lunch. Lincoln nosed at my sandwich. He was a good dog and I gave him a piece of luncheon meat; at which he seemed delighted. I leant against the sink eating my sandwich, my back turned to Lincoln. I poured a glass of water and drank. Turning around I noticed that Lincoln had left the kitchen and had gone, I presumed, into the dining room. I continued eating my sandwich and noticed that no sound was coming from the dining room where Lincoln had gone. Hmmm... I decided to investigate. When I turned the corner I stopped up short and starred in a stunned amazement. Sitting in at the entrance of the hallway in the living room was Lincoln. He was sitting quietly while a small dark haired boy about five or six petted him quietly. I took a step forward; Lincoln turned and looked at me. A quizzical concerned, but unafraid, look came from those lab eyes of his as if to say, “look what I found.”

                      Slowly, very slowly the boy followed Lincolns gaze and turned and saw me. I must have looked a sight, sandwich in hand, mouth open, starring; silent; surreal.

                      The boys face was much like the face of any young boy. He could be any boy; his most striking feature was his dark hair -- black, black like night. His face, on seeing me, went from the calm of a placid lake to the torment of a rising river. Fear, naked and palatable sprang to his face. He quickly withdrew his hand from Lincolns’ head and took a step backwards. Before I could react the boy turned and ran. He ran down the hallway towards the back bedroom. Lincoln whined as he looked after him. I didn’t run after him, I simply strode over to Lincoln and looked down the hallway. Lincoln looked up at me. I think he was as confused as I was. Where had the boy come from?

                      I searched the bedrooms but found nothing. In the small bedroom at the end of the hallway I checked the closet. Nothing. But as I walked in I sensed that cold-dread feeling you get sometimes late at night when all is still. In the bedrooms closet I noticed something I had not been aware of before. Just above a roughly built-in bookcase was another trapdoor into the ceiling. Looking closely at the bookcase I determined that yes, it could be used as a ladder. I brought my own ladder into the room and peered up into the space above. No boy. A few loose pieces of board ran crosswise across the rafters – but nothing more. A hiding place if nothing else…

                      Hiding from what?

                      I stayed outside for the rest of the day working on the kitchen cabinets.

                      In 1531 Juan Diago, a native American living in what is now Mexico City, saw a strangely dressed lady on a hill. The Lady gave him a message to take to the local Bishop. The message was that she wanted a temple be built. Juan Diago complied with the Lady’s wishes but the Bishop told him he needed proof of the Lady. Three more times Juan Diago saw the Lady on the hilltop. He explained the Bishops’ reluctance and disbelieve. Finally the Lady told him to gather flowers from the hilltop, and because it was December even Juan Diago was skeptical. But, there on the hilltop amongst the Lady were flowers, Roses of many different varieties. Even varieties that Juan Diago, had himself, never seen. He cut the flowers and returned them to the Lady. The Lady took Juan Diagos’ coat, arranged the flowers and then wrapped them carefully in the coat. “Take these”, She said, “to the Bishop, here is his proof.”

                      Four times Juan Diago saw and spoke with Lady. Did Juan Diago suffer from Temporal Lobe Seizures? Well, did he? Was something akin to this happening to me or am I just simply hallucinating?

                      When the Bishop opened Juan Diagos’ coat the flowers fell to the ground and an instant image of the Lady appeared on the coat. This was witnessed by more than just the two of them. Not, only is this documented by the witnesses present but in microscopic images of the image of the Lady’s eyes on the coat, is the reflection of the people standing next to the Bishop when he opened the coat.

                      Is that it? Is that the difference between hallucination and Miracle; witnesses? Juan Diago had the Bishop and his entourage. Me; all I have is a Lab/Terrier mix named Lincoln. Am I losing my mind?

                      The Lady got her temple built. You can visit it yourself, if you’re interested, and you can see the image of the Lady as well. The image is known as “Our Lady of Guadalupe” and hangs in the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City, Mexico.

                      If I’m to quantify my experience at all then all I have are those experiences that have been declared Miracles, “Our Lady of Guadalupe” is but only one of many. So then I ask you what is my alternative explanation if not miraculous -- the ravings of a lunatic? Please, Lord let it not be the latter.

                      It’s getting late. I’m going to try and sleep now.
                      Last edited by exnzpat; 20-06-2009, 04:22 PM.
                      Erewhon is still erehwon, I don’t see it changing anytime soon.

                      http://exnzpat.blogspot.com/

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                      • #56
                        I refuse to contribute to exnzpat's draft screenplay unless I get a share in "the gross" (whatever that means)

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                        • #57
                          Keep it up expat you are giving me goosebumps. You have spirits in your house who would love to be released to go to where spirits go. Get the house blessed. Not sure if you beleive in that but you don't beleive in goasts either, they are trying to tell you something.
                          enjoying reading your daily updates. Look forward to tomorrows one.

                          Amazing the lessons life gives us.

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                          • #58
                            Give me a break!
                            (.....and its ghosts, not goasts,....thats what ya have for brekkie with gam onnit!......jeez : )

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                            • #59
                              So exnpat's day job is that of an author?

                              Maybe he just trolls here to get infor for his next project?
                              Squadly dinky do!

                              Comment


                              • #60
                                Day 6

                                I woke up with another headache; those damn Foggers (the bug spray) most probably.

                                I went into the kitchen and made coffee. It helped clear my head some and I planned out my morning. Mrs. Exnpat and the kids will arrive around 2pm. So, I started to clean-up my camp bed and personal stuff in the dining room so I could work in there. With the wallpaper gone and walls cleaned all that was left to do was little patching and then an undercoat. One of the things that had drawn me to the house in the first place was the quality of the walls, which apart from the wall paper, were in excellent shape. The ceilings on the other hand... It always amazes the things that find their way up on to a ceiling.

                                The ceilings in this house were stained and tired. An easy fix, but hard work; I always end up with a sore neck.

                                With spackling drying on the walls I moved my sleeping gear into the Master bedroom and then got to the drudgery of painting the dining room ceiling. I find that once I start something it’s hard to stop so I moved into the living room and did that ceiling as well. I broke for lunch and checked PropertyTalk.com for the latest. After lunch I cleaned up my tarps and paint and then went to work on the kitchen. The kitchen is one of the best features of the house. None of the plumbing or electrical needed to be moved so this in itself made this Redo financially viable and easy work for me.

                                I moved my groceries, plates, utensils, microwave, and coffee machine into the Master bedroom with my other stuff and then shut off the water to the house. After about thirty minutes I had disconnected the water to the kitchen sink and the dishwasher. I capped off the pipes and disconnected the drains. I turned the water back on and checked for leaks. All was well.

                                The arrival of the exnzpat family was heralded by Lincolns excited barking. He bounced up and down at the dining room window and then, decided that that wasn't going to get him any closer, tore past me in while I worked in the kitchen, and out the kitchen door. I put down my tools and followed him out.


                                After hugs and kisses and a quick tour of the house, and the work I had done, it was time to put the family to work. I did not mention my “experiences” of these past few days.

                                A house Redo for the exnzpat family is a family affair. We all pitch in. Mrs. Exnzpat chooses the colors and handles the budget. The oldest son, exnzpat1, at seventeen years old, helps me with the heavy lifting and anything to do with a sledge hammer. Number two child, exnzpat2, a female and fifteen, helps her mother with the paint colors, and of late, appears to be dressing for some sort of fashion parade that exists only in her mind. I told her that there was a boy about her age next door and only received a cold stare. The youngest, exnzpat3, a nine year old boy, spends most of his time exploring and playing with Lincoln. And so we went to work.


                                One of the amazing things about Mrs. Exnzpat is that she is actually legally blind, and color blind on top of that. She can't drive at night and once on a clear day confused a cow for a man wearing a trench coat. But, boy can she pick colors. It's a rare skill and so far, has been a profitable one for us. She and our daughter wandered about the house with a pen and a notepad. The youngest headed outside with the dog to play. To the oldest, I handed a sledgehammer and together we went to work on the kitchen cabinets. After half an hour we pretty much demolished the place, all except the counter top which was a high quality oak butcher block. This we lifted carefully from the vanity beneath, and placed it outside under the carport next the primed cabinets. We went back inside, and careful not to damage the plumbing, went merrily back to ripping the place apart. Next, we conscripted exnzpat3 to help drag the debris to the dumpster. This took the rest of the afternoon.

                                We let the youngest wander off to his play. The next phase for us consisted of installing the new vanity, and reinstalling the sink, taps and countertop -- fairly simple, but awkward. The hard work lay in prepping the walls behind the vanity. This meant scraping, cleaning and spackling. We had to remove part of the linoleum floor which exposed the sub-floor. Finally, we were able to lay down heavy black insulating plastic and set the three under cabinets in place. We manhandled the countertop back through the door, and once satisfied with the fit, screwed everything into place. We dropped the sink into place and I showed my son how to hook everything back together. I couldn't help smiling to myself once the water was back on. He's a good kid and this had been fun.

                                While we did all this, the wife and daughter had already left and returned from the paint store, and after a quick stop at the Pizza Parlor, returned with paint and pizza. A most excellent combination!

                                It had been a long day and after tossing the fridge, stove, and dishwasher into the dumpster it was definitely time for a break. We cleaned up and went inside. The girls had made a makeshift picnic in the middle of the dining room: pizza boxes, cokes in the middle, Lincoln outside. We chowed down.

                                Well, around seven it was time to bid the family farewell. They were heading over to Mrs. Exnzpat’s sister (they had a pool and cats and fortunately for me; Lincoln was staying), a two hour drive from here. They would spend the next week there and be back here next Sunday and together we would drive back home. The Rehab would be finished by then (I hope).

                                Because of my wife’s eyesight problems, and the fact that we still didn’t trust the oldest boy fully with driving yet they needed to leave before nightfall.

                                I kissed them goodbye and gave my oldest a handshake – he did good work today. He made me proud.

                                I watched the car until I could see it no more and then turned slowly and walked back into the house with Lincoln at my side.
                                Last edited by exnzpat; 21-06-2009, 05:53 PM.
                                Erewhon is still erehwon, I don’t see it changing anytime soon.

                                http://exnzpat.blogspot.com/

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