Friday Ephemera
Skillz. (h/t, Damian) || Look behind you, Dr Floyd. || Feminist academia. || Battleships solitaire. || Just Marvin. (h/t, Obo) || Commemorative coin of note. || “Agnes Richter densely embroidered her standard-issue straitjacket.” || I have to say, those really are impressive balls. || Intrigue. || Grain. || Tiny origami. || Shoreditching redux. || A small drama in three parts. || He does this better than you do. || How to cook a potato. || Poseable miniature birds. || Peeg. || Charcoal chicken. || I’d watch and so would you. || You want one and you know it. || They’re gaining on us. || An archive of antiquated sounds. (h/t, Coudal) || Four minutes of concentrated YouTube. || That’s an awful lot of faeces. || And finally, via Things, jars of handcrafted hump fat and other unappealing products.
Finally! 🙂
Finally! 🙂
Yes, apologies for the tardiness. The scheduled posting decided not to work. Presumably a result of last night’s Typepad outage.
“They’re gaining on us.”
Dog we had that needed an ear operation never learned the trick of going through a door wearing the Cone of Shame. Cats simply ditched them at the first opportunity.
“Look behind you, Dr Floyd.”
“This is not at all a common occurrence,” he added, but said they were prepared for the event.
Translation: had packed extra underwear.
jars of handcrafted hump fat and other unappealing products.
I’ll pass on the hump fat.
But the flask gloves are awesome.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0789R3NDT/ref=?tag=drsynth-20
Now available at the bar.
Door shits in Shoreditch?
Door shits in Shoreditch?
Previously.
I have to say, those really are impressive balls.
Four minutes of concentrated YouTube.
This is why we can’t have nice things.
That grain elevator reminds me…. they’ve started painting old disused or underused silos in country towns in my state of Victoria. I don’t always like the results (I actually really love the simple industrial beauty of silos and think smothering them all with paint is more than a little tacky) but some of the works aren’t so bad. Check them out here.
Look behind you, Dr Floyd.
Oh, yes, and, Something wonderful.
Albeit, no surprise, the book was better.
Albeit, no surprise, the book was better.
I was actually surprised that the film, 2010, isn’t bad. It ain’t Kubrick, and the ending’s a tad schmaltzy for my taste, but there are moments of genuine tension. As when Jupiter is being upgraded.
Incidentally, Typepad will be down for maintenance for a few hours on Tuesday morning, around 4am. Or 10pm Central on Monday evening, if you live in the States.
“For fun.”
The BBC’s Justin Webb is corrected by Jordan Peterson.
Though I’m not sure that Mr Webb is able to process what he’s hearing.
“For fun.”
The words simulated pus should pull in the customers.
Ah, 2010. Helen Mirren & Roy Scheider make anything watchable.
Thanks for the Cordon Bleu potato cooking class. Very useful!
“Orange and green flavour.”
The words simulated pus should pull in the customers.
Well, now we know what the market for the hump fat is.
Who has the better 80s hair?
Who has the better 80s hair?
It’s close but I think Patti wins, what with the jumpsuit.
It’s close but I think Patti wins, what with the jumpsuit.
Never mind the jumpsuit, what about the fur!!
If anyone has trouble with comments not appearing, email me and I’ll rattle the spam filter.
Here.
I’m trying to remember when, exactly, Michael McDonald went off the rails. The Doobie Brothers had some good albums, but then, out of nowhere McDonald got all . . . disco-y.
I’d watch and so would you.
In Nantes there is a strange curved football pitch on a patch of grass, which when viewed in a giant curved mirror mounted behind appears normal. There’s a photo of it here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/yozhik66/35124125414/in/album-72157684121136930/
Battleships solitaire.
*Writes off afternoon*
The Heard it Through the Grapevine rendition is exclusively and totally Gaye.
what
https://twitter.com/IHLaking/status/979138955181371393
exclusively and totally Gaye.
I see what you did there.
jars of handcrafted hump fat and other unappealing products.
I don’t know whether to get the ingrown toenail phone case or the Kim Kardashian human centipede T-shirt.
I don’t know whether to get the ingrown toenail phone case or the Kim Kardashian human centipede T-shirt.
I did toy with the idea, briefly, of buying a jar of hump fat, as a gift. Alas, it’s currently unavailable.
Vanessa Slothouber
Seems an appropriate name somehow.
Why The Independent hates independence, by Moz.
Continuing the toilet-related motif:
Via Obnoxio.
Good God, the reasoning in the comments on that Shoreditch tweet. “He might be homeless”, “You’re lucky you live in Shoreditch”. Like any of that justifies having someone shit on your DOORSTEP? WTF. Homelessness has been a thing since pretty much forever. Shitting on people’s doorsteps, not so much. I am quite certain there are plenty of other places for the homeless to shit. Not familiar with Shoreditch but if one is “lucky” to live there, I presume the homeless need transportation to these doorsteps on which to shit? This is insane. Again, I’m not so much surprised that people shit on doorsteps. That anyone would defend such for any reason is the real problem.
Again, I’m not so much surprised that people shit on doorsteps. That anyone would defend such for any reason is the real problem.
Excuse-making is a defining vice of our age.
…simulated pus …
Has Simulated Pus ever been touted as a band name?
Excuse-making is a defining vice of our age.
There are always people ready to make excuses, even when the criminal was using a gun or beating a victim with a baseball bat. No matter how vicious the violence, the criminal has friends and family who will condemn his victims for successfully defending themselves.
The comments in the linked item describe the victim as a “poor old sod”. I’ve always wondered: Is “old sod” always or nearly always an affectionate expression? I get that impression from the few instances I have read.
If I had a band, and a bajilliion dollars, I’d pay another, lesser band to change it’s name to “Her Beautiful Legs” and then take them on tour with us. That’s what I’d do. If I had a bajillion dollars…and a band.
Is “old sod” always or nearly always an affectionate expression?
Usually, as in this case. Though it can also be the opposite.
There are always people ready to make excuses, even when the criminal was using a gun or beating a victim with a baseball bat.
I, for one, tire of parents trying to excuse their own monstrous children. I believe the phrase “aspiring rapper” has become a meme.
Falling down the twitter rabbit hole, I ran across John Barrowman pitching a fit because the manager at the Hollywoo Target told him not to buy stuff for the homeless guy outside. Now everybody in the world is losing their minds, Target’s PR bot is doing damage control, and the virtue signalling meter has been reduced to a smouldering ruin.
And all because some Target drone had the gall to internalize the advice given by the “DON’T FEED THE ANIMALS” sign at the park he visited when he was growing up.
An archive of antiquated sounds.
That was fun …but the 8mm film projector is off – that loud & tinny means something wrong. I spent many a Sunday night, after dinner at my grandparents where grandpa set up the screen & showed home movies he shot (then spliced into long reels) he took with his Bell & Howell 8mm camera. (I still have the camera)
[me in the Princess Leia buns, 1961]
[me in the Princess Leia buns, 1961]
I see you’re supervising the carving.
@Darleen
That movie brings back memories of the ’60s for me. (I was a bit younger.) Still, I remember my parents hosting dinners in our rather humble (as seen now) middle class suburb, where the ladies were dressed well, the gentlemen wore ties and the conversation was adult in the extreme. It was picture of the stuff Professor Amy Wax talks about. Most of the adults are now deceased and their kids are in their late fifties with kids and grandkids of their own. The funny thing is–shock!–the vast, vast majority of those then children turned out OK and their descendants with them. Imagine that.
Apropos of nothing but our host’s stated fondness for The Blacklist, I ran off the end of fourth season this week. I have progressed beyond the point of being appalled by the blatant pandering; I have now reached Charmed/Switched at Birth levels of assuming that the entire show is deliberately Poe’s Law trolling.
David, if you’re enjoying the relationship between Navabi and Aram check out NBC’s Chuck (2007), which was clearly the template for it. I’m rewatching it now.
Can’t talk. Watching The Blacklist.
No, really.