"I don't know any great, great, great grandparents (C8)," writes Mike Phillips of Yaroomba, "but I do know that at the rate my lot are going I'll never be one."
A week ago the wallet of Kenneth Mackenzie of Kirrawee fell out of his pocket in Oxford Street near Taylor Square. He did the usual panic of anyone who has ever been in the same situation - cancelled his credit cards, got a new drivers licence etc. However, in a marked turn from the usual progression of events, Kenneth received a post bag from “SmoKin Joe” (no address). In it was his wallet, intact with nothing missing - not even the cash. It is Kenneth's hope (and Granny's too) that "Smokin Joe" may see this item so that Kenneth can convey his heartfelt thanks to him.
In answer to Leone Wallace's query about second world countries (C8) Neale Ferguson of Leesburg, Virginia writes: "The first world refers to US/UK/Allies, the second world used to refer to the communist countries, and third world the non-aligned countries. Economically it was advanced capitalist, planned and developing."
An alternate take on the second world (C8) is offered by Tim Schroder of Gordon: "Second world exists somewhere in Lord of the Rings. I think it is where you have second breakfast."
Where do you start with so many Milliganisms (C8) to choose from? Woy Woy of course! “The world's largest above ground cemetery" is remembered by...pretty much everyone apparently. Colin Bateman of Wollongong adds another Woy Woy pearl: "If they can call Wagga Wagga, Wagga, why can't they call Woy Woy, Woy? Jennifer Tidey of Mudgee's contribution is this excerpt from his declaration of love for Australia: "Orstralia, Orstralia, I love you from the heart - the kidney, the liver and the giblets, and every other part." Two of the favourites of Garth Clarke of North Sydney: "I died in the war for people like you", and his response when asked about his health: "I've got Crohn's disease. And he's got mine."
Today's Column 8 could not finish any other way than with the hands-down favourite Milliganism (C8) of more readers than there is space to mention by name - the self-penned epitaph of the man: "I told you I was ill." Or, as is actually inscribed on his tombstone at the insistence of St Thomas Church in Winchelsea, in the less widely understood Gaelic: "Dúirt mé leat go raibh mé breoite."