Dizzie Lizzie

The funniest post I've ever read on Dover's blog. Definitely Mrs Bucket/Bouquet here. To the police station because the air-con isn't working? Cray cray! I laughed out loud! 😆😂🤣

"Elizabeth (Lizzie) Bearesays:

December 27, 2022 at 11:14 am

I am only just getting over Christmas night. We had booked into the best corporate-style accommodation in Nowra, all we could get, which probably for legal reasons in this tale should remain nameless. There was no room at my nephew’s place, there never is at Christmas, temporary beds everywhere including one for my adult son. When in Nowra for Christmas Hairy and I always book a room in town, though usually in a favoured family-style motel not the business-style one.

Thus, after a long lunch that drifted into the early evening, at 8.30pm Hairy and I called it quits and departed for some peace and quiet alone. When we’d checked in that morning they told us that Reception would not be open after 3pm. At 8.30pm this booked-out place was very quiet, most people were still ‘out’. It felt weird walking into dark corridors which then lit up with harsh sensor lights; the room itself turned out to be very contemporary but rather bleak. I said I thought we should turn the aircon on, as the day had been hot and the room faced west. As per instructions, we closed the open wind-in window first, pressed the aircon remote to on – and nothing happened. That continued for the next few goes, although the battery was definitely live and working. While we determined what to do, we tried to reopen the window but it had locked itself fast. The room quickly grew increasingly stuffy and airless. After a further fifteen minutes of it we had to open the door to the corridor, which was also not air-conditioned and thus stuffy too.

We rang the emergency contact number listed on a card in the room. It went to a recorded message, so we left a message. Over the next two hours we left six further messages, of increasing desperation and concern, hoping that the number would be checked and some assistance given to us. At 10.30 I gasped to Hairy that I couldn’t sleep in this room, even with the door open. I’d already tried the one person arriving in our corridor to ask to borrow their aircon remote, but that didn’t work either. Hairy went down to reception to check the emergency number on the closed glass door. It was the same number we were using. He went outside to check the emergency entry voicemail, which also gave that same number, where he left a message saying crossly how was anyone with a non-working keycard able to get in (fortunately our keycards were ok). It was abundantly clear that the night emergency phone was unattended.

What to do? Drive back to Sydney? Not really. Turn up at nephew’s place? No room at all. Go elsewhere? Not a room left in the town, we already knew that. Sit up all night in the airless room? Have to take turns trying to sleep, with the door open to intruders (Nowra is the sort of town where windows are barred). But still the room would be unbearably hot. With us in it breathing it was getting hotter and hotter.

Let’s go to the police, I suggest in desperation, for the Station was walkable, as we checked on our phones. They may know someone responsible for the place. A long shot, but off we trudged into Christmas night. No room at the inn, lol. The woman constable was lovely, sympathetic, tried to ring the same number, saying a gee up from the police might help, but we knew the phone was unattended. She agreed that these large premises accommodating many people should not be left unattended, and noted it down. We returned to the room after a spell in the cool at the Police Station, and I was just bemoaning the situation to another guest in our corridor when a woman with wild hair in bare feet and what stood in for black shorties pajamas came running up saying I’ve just got a message. You’ve got me out of bed, she accuses. Turns out she was somehow in charge, although not really, but not on the number put down for Emergencies. She said she’d put up her number on the inside of the glass door of Reception, and yes, there it was, on a sheet of quarto paper held by one piece of sticky tape in the middle, a telephone number in 12 point typing. That sheet had curled around itself in the heat and was both unnoticed and unreadable. The usual Emergency number was still prominently displayed – and as we had found out, useless.

After checking that our room was totally dysfunctional as claimed, this lady did manage to get into the computer system and put us into a new room with working aircon. We never found out how she discovered our plight. She was more bothered than apologetic. Reception the next morning as we checked out were slightly more concerned, saying their night system was still being ‘sorted out’, but adding that a non-working aircon didn’t strictly come under the category of Emergency. Even if the window has locked down fast? I snapped. We’ll make sure you get a better room with good aircon next time, the two new women at the desk assured us. Fat chance, I didn’t say, that we’d ever deign to set foot in the place again."



Still laughing 🤣🤣🤣

Hey NFA, leigh lowe explained that to register a downtick you click twice on a comment. He's nasty fucking filth. Why would anyone do that?? He must be so proud, telling his family how much of a proud internet bully he is. He does it because he is gagged. We have this amazing platform. He has nothing. He can't freely express himself, so he downticks.

Time for a song.

I reckon it's bullshitting chilli and just using that to continue fomenting fear in the folk on the site.

Tom in response to Lizzie:

Jul 18, 2023 6:56 PM

I just want it to STOP.

"Then go off-line Lizzie, you precious petal. FFS."

Tom, you're as precious as you say Lizzie is. Fresh water in the bong might help you see the upticking cunt that is sancho poofta panzy aka leigh lowe.

Elizabeth (Lizzie) Beare

Jul 18, 2023 7:44 PM

"Who are you anyway, Tom? Perhaps not a question I should ask, but I do wonder."

Lizzie, Tom is a nothing. A burnt out journo who posts other people's cartoons every morning at 4am.

He has a purpose, apparently.