Trying to rebuild a broken batten, I need to free the ferrules. I assume they are fixed with an epoxy, but it could be some other glue. Right now I'm trying to determine what it may be exactly. However, I was wondering if anyone can inform the board as to a solvent for this.
If the engine revs to much you may find that you have fitted the wrong sized shoes to your cats food bowl.
Here is a list of things to check before starting
There is beer in the fridge
Did Freo win on the weekend, if so keep an eye out for Jesus
Is the ground damp
the plug is on the right end of the extension lead.
only then can you be assured of independence for the Aardvarks
Elmo, that is possibly the most random and funny comment I've ever read ...
I'm still in paroxysms ...
rofl doesn't come close ...
I'm about to lose bladder control 
Ah yes, came up straight away.
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Quite partial to this one
Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze;
He turned away the good old horse that served him many days;
He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine;
And as he wheeled it through the door, with air of lordly pride,
The grinning shop assistant said, "Excuse me, can you ride?"
"See here, young man," said Mulga Bill, "from Walgett to the sea,
From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like me.
I'm good all round at everything as everybody knows,
Although I'm not the one to talk - I hate a man that blows.
But riding is my special gift, my chiefest, sole delight;
Just ask a wild duck can it swim, a wildcat can it fight.
There's nothing clothed in hair or hide, or built of flesh or steel,
There's nothing walks or jumps, or runs, on axle, hoof, or wheel,
But what I'll sit, while hide will hold and girths and straps are tight:
I'll ride this here two-wheeled concern right straight away at sight."
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that sought his own abode,
That perched above Dead Man's Creek, beside the mountain road.
He turned the cycle down the hill and mounted for the fray,
But 'ere he'd gone a dozen yards it bolted clean away.
It left the track, and through the trees, just like a silver steak,
It whistled down the awful slope towards the Dead Man's Creek.
It shaved a stump by half an inch, it dodged a big white-box:
The very wallaroos in fright went scrambling up the rocks,
The wombats hiding in their caves dug deeper underground,
As Mulga Bill, as white as chalk, sat tight to every bound.
It struck a stone and gave a spring that cleared a fallen tree,
It raced beside a precipice as close as close could be;
And then as Mulga Bill let out one last despairing shriek
It made a leap of twenty feet into the Dean Man's Creek.
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that slowly swam ashore:
He said, "I've had some narrer shaves and lively rides before;
I've rode a wild bull round a yard to win a five-pound bet,
But this was the most awful ride that I've encountered yet.
I'll give that two-wheeled outlaw best; it's shaken all my nerve
To feel it whistle through the air and plunge and buck and swerve.
It's safe at rest in Dead Man's Creek, we'll leave it lying still;
A horse's back is good enough henceforth for Mulga Bill."
not really decrep
forgive my ignorance but at first i thought goodbrew and elmo sounded "drunk" and as is was just bantering away...your poem sounds deep, native dialect mixed with oz lingo
am dead on this one...
Well, Brewster is a trolling knobhead and should ask Oneupp what he thinks. However he may have a genuine batten problem so I'll bite.
(1) cured epoxy is solvent resistant (very) that is why it is good stuff. Can't have planes dissolving if we spill some fuel huh?
(2) if you could dissolve it, it would also dissolve the laminated battens you are trying to separate (not just the joint) so it is pointless.
(3) most epoxies soften substantially about 80deg C (what is that in Farenheit??) so that may do it for you..... but you will probably stuff the batten anyway.
(4) it is just as likely to be epoxy/glass or carbon laminated battens joined with cyanoacrylate or vnyl ester resin or polyester resin or.....
Again, no point trying.
Buy a new batten.
Anyone rember this one: can you remeber who it was????
The bravest animals in the land are Captain Beaky and his band
That's Timid Toad, Reckless Rat, Artful Owl and Batty Bat
They march through the woodlands singing songs
That tell how they have righted wrongs
Once Hissing Sid, an evil snake, kept the woodland folk awake
In fear and trembling every night
In case he gave someone a bite
Said Artful Owl, 'We'll lie in wait
And one of us will be the bait."
Said Captain Beaky, "Have no fear! For I alone will volunteer!"
"No, make it me!" Said Reckless Rat
I'll stand there in my reckless hat
When Hissing Sid picks up my trail,
I'll just lasso him with my tail!"
"Oh, good idea" said Timid Toad, "We'll hide a long way down the road.
And when you've overcome resistance,
We'll rush along to your assistance."
Said Batty Bat, "I've got a wheeze!
I'll fly and hide up in the trees!
If Hissing Sid should slither by
I'll drop a boulder from the sky!"
Said Artful Owl, "The idea sound…how will you lift it off the ground?"
Poor Batty Bat just scratched his head,
"I hadn't thought of that," he said.
Said Owl, "The rest of us hold back. There's only one that he'll attack."
Said Timid Toad, "I like your plan."
"Good luck," said Owl, "For you're the man!"
So Timid Toad, his eyes a-popping,
Into the woodland night went hopping
Captain Beaky waved his hand, followed by his trusty band
That's Artful Owl and Reckless Rat, and above the trees flew Batty Bat.
"Stop!" Said Beaky, "I hear squeaking!"
"It's Batty Bat" said Owl, "He's speaking!"
"It's all in code," said Reckless Rat
Said Owl, "I'll just decipher that."
"A dash, a dot, two short, two long…
I rather think we've got it wrong.
It reads 'can clearly see the road,
Hissing Sid has captured Toad!'"
"Quick men!" said Beaky, "No delay!
"You mustn't let him get away!"
And leaping off, said "Follow me!"
And ran head first into a tree.
"Dot dot dot" squeaked Batty Bat.
Said Beaky, "Quick! Decipher that!"
Said Reckless Rat, "Perhaps we're gaining?"
"No," said Owl. "He says…it's raining"
Oh, how they ran to save poor Toad,
For they must find that snake's abode
Guided by old Batty Bat
Dot dot go this way dash, go that!
Then Hissing Sid's lair they spied
Were they too late? Was he inside?
Said Reckless Rat, "I'll get a pole
And stop him going down his hole!"
Then into sight the snake came hopping,
Right past his hole, no sign of stopping
Said Reckless Rat, "That's rather funny,
"There's something jumping in his tummy."
Said Captain Beaky, "Well I'm blowed!
Hissing Sid has swallowed Toad!"
And as the snake hopped out of sight,
Off they chased into the night.
At last they found him, tired and dizzy
And pulled out Toad, who said "Where is he?
For left alone, I felt quite sick,
And hopped into a hollow stick
Said Owl, "A clever step to take!
You jumped into that slippery snake."
"That was brave of Toad", said Rat
"That's just my sort of plan!" said Bat
Said Captain Beaky to his men,
"Well we'll not see Hissing Sid again!"
And as they marched off down the road,
They sang in praise of Timid Toad
Above them flew ol' Batty Bat,
With his wings stretched out, like that
Owl's idea, the clever fella
To have a flying um-ber-ella
Ahhh....Jabberwocky
Used to spin my kids out by reciting it!
Now they just think I'm weird 
or had too much to drink
at the joint where it tapers..didn't figure a a batten had a ferrule too!anyways your friends topside has recommended boiling or steaming..my best assumption when i dismantle battens is epoxy resin but as to what kind am clueless
For Bruce from the philosophy department of the University of Woolongong its -
The Philosopher’s Drinking Song
Immanuel Kant was a real piss-ant
who was very rarely stable
Heidegger, Heidegger was a
boozy beggar
who could drink you under
the table
David Hume could out-consume
Wilhelm Friederich Hegel
And Wittgenstein was a
beery swine
who was just as sloshed
as Schlegel
There's nothing Nietzsche couldn't
teach ya
'bout the raising of the wrist
Socrates himself was
permanently pissed
John Stewart Mill, of his own
free will
on half a pint of shandy was
particularly ill
Plato they say could stick it away
'alf a crate of whisky every day
Aristotle Aristotle was a bugger
for the bottle
Hobbes was fond of his dram
And Rene Descartes was a
drunken fart:
"I drink, therefore I am"
Yes, Socrates himself is
particularly missed
A lovely little thinker
but a bugger when he's pissed
For those who don't waste all their time sitting behind a computer and sniffing glues, I found steam worked. Someone on another URL supplied the information.
In a quite room somewhere in a secret location, Bob Dylan is bent over a table being abused by an Aardvark warrior.
As me mumbled his next unintelligible song about crap the baseball bat was firmly inserted in the blender mixing the next batch of malarkey.
Bring on global warming he shouted, I've had enough of winter, skiing is only for those who haven't the courage to surf the cesspools of life.
One fine day I may wake from this dream and be smacked in the face by reality, reality may get a smack back but it's most likely reality may just get tired trying to catch me as i can run pretty quick when something bigger is chasing my dog.
Wonko had it right.
Paul wasn't the walrus but he did have a thing for amputees
Yet ponder this
If all the world was crazy and you were the only sane person, would Freo Dockers still be a crap badminton team.
Life wasn't meant to be easy, but if your good you can get parole, if you are really good you can get lubricant.
She offered her honour, I honoured her offer and all night long it was the same old crap on telly.
One day I may figure out what I was supposed to be doing
One day I may remember what I forget to remember
Don't piss off an Aardvark, they're feisty little buggers when they are aroused, just ask Bob
..Said Left Hand Fred
I know it's drastic. Perhaps old fashioned. Not in tune with the modern way of nurturing, encouraging, building self-confidence, five year plans. All of the spin which covers poor performance. But could I just invoke it once this year. Respectfully. Quietly in the back of the dressing room with the playing group. It won't take long and it may get results. Won't even raise my voice.
Please look away now if you are easily offended.
Good thank you. F me dead, you blokes kiddin' or what?
There, easily done. Just needed to ask the question. Is there any chance of a red-hot go? Any danger of rousing those fragile egos, arousing, to a level whereby you might actually like to inflict some pain upon the opposition. Have a crack. Cause a ruction. I know, I know, just because you are paranoid doesn't mean they are not out to get you. Life can be unfair. Unforgiving. Then again you are on a fair whack and you're doing diddly squat.
It's been mentioned before. If your mind is empty, it is always ready for anything, it is open to everything. It's been established your mind is empty its just the second part we are trying to work on. Being ready, being open.
You've been pampered through the system since the under 14's. Got your pocket pissed in so many times you feel like a shop front in Chapel Street. That could be a good career option. God knows we need more shop fronts.
Maybe we could trawl through the archives for inspirational messages. Was it General Westmoreland 'We met the enemy and he was us.' Maybe you just saw his reflection while you were taking a slash. Fixing your hair. Watching the big screen to see how you looked. That'd be two possessions then wouldn't it and three if they replay it.
Ah, but fickleness is a fickle thing. The Cats remember that. Maybe that's the driver. None could creep in this week. It's the unfurling at the Cattery. A love-in. The Demons are spaseratas and write your own ticket, but funnily enough they've got form down there. Drew the last time they played there, won the time before that. Got done by fourteen points the previous visit. Got nigh on twelve goals start this time at the line.
The last time I remember such a margin was Fitzroy in its death throes playing Carlton. We were in the Shaky Coral Isles and the margin was similarly out around the seventy-mark start for the Royboys. Couple of Blue boys fancied a punt and got on the Roys at the margin. Couldn't happen these days but it did then and the Blues still played like world-beaters and flogged them but the margin came in at a satisfactory and respectable, unquestionable, sixty something points. Sixty-three to be exact.
All parties satisfied and it might have been just luck.
Where there is an open mind there will always be a frontier. Just a matter of getting there first or getting a good spot in the queue. They are a contrast in ways Geelong and Melbourne. Geelong 'stuck', looked at the whole and took their decisions from there. Did it as a group. A fragile, fractured group at the time, openly derided for frivolously squandering talent. Only two seasons ago. Won the night flag and celebrated. In style with two thumping victories in rounds one and two of season 2006 and then the Hawks came down to Kardinia Park and did a job on them as rank outsiders and the season turned to muck. But they learnt from it. They'd had forty odd years of learning. They've learnt it good.
The Dees stayed loyal to an ageing bunch of talented players of good character who just couldn't quite cut the mustard. There has always been a fault line there. Flying one minute, lose seven in a row the next. Then fly again. But never high enough. The coach took the rap. The ten-year coach, who reinvented himself and was open to change was sent packing. The ten-year players retained. Perhaps the cosy relationship did have to be severed, altered, but possibly they cut off the wrong bit.
To look through the teams that lined up in when these two teams clashed in round 21, 2006, a majority of the players are still there. The game was a draw. At season's end Melbourne finished in the finals with 13 wins; Geelong with 10 wins was club in crisis. Perhaps mainly because of the high pre-season and historical expectations.
Both clubs took something out of the season. One a degree of satisfaction that they were around the mark. The other a scorching self-examination that left them with the determination to make a mark. Their mark. Their expectation.
Twelve goals start is the legacy in a season and a bit.
One determined to deserve success. The other assumed they'd achieve it. It's the **** me dead clause and not too many clubs want to invoke it.
Could mean their job and if its hard to get your snout in the trough, it's a bloody sight harder to take it out.
The beauty of the five year plan.
(Unfortunately not mine, check it out here: www.sportsbet.com.au/ )
Thats nothing.
Try getting your ginger nut out of the cup when you drop it dunking...HTFU crew 
Nebs, Dali or not, if you are on anything please stop as that image is screwing with my tiny tiny mind
Hahah all good
