Friday Ephemera
It’s all in the nipples. || Hair recoil of note. || A horse walks into a bar. || A suitcase for your wine. || An alternative approach. || Magazines of yore. || Designer megaphones of note. || Think good thoughts. || Plot twist. || Somewhat fancy pastries, part two. || “Activist Adrian Harrop claimed that the posters were dangerous.” || “He’s raping us through technology.” || Warsaw Tetris. || When you can’t be trusted with a real one. || Snail racing. || It’s a sink, it’s a stove, it’s a fridge. || Cooking crab in the forest. || Dissonance detected. || How to detect extra dimensions. || Toilet dilemma of note. || Today’s word is contrabassoon. || And finally, behold ye a super-woke hairstylist-activist and male feminist ally.
Nobody ever called me cool before.
Everyone in this joint is cool.
Except me, because it’s still 85 degrees. In October. After sundown. The jack-o-lantern is sweating and the ghost just traded his sheet for shorts.
Oopsie, looks like the brave male feminist done got hissef arrested.
It’s cooled off a lot here in the last few days. Even rained a bit.
Living, as I always have, on the western edge of the Great American Desert (i.e California), I feel a profound relief every year when the first rain marks the end of Extreme Fire Season. But now I will have to wait until the next dry season starts to go back to my Early Summer Retirement Hobby – vainly attempting to educate recent immigrants from wetter parts about the local reality.
It’s weird. They all think they know all about earthquakes, but even with fires in the news all Autumn, many don’t get it. I think it must be the fault of the local trees: California Live Oaks, and lots of (ack, spit) Eucalyptus. They look at all the greenery, and don’t realize it’ll burn like gasoline if you just look at it crooked.
Oh, I almost forgot. Y’all know about California Prop. 65 warning labels? “This product / location is known to the State of California to contain cancer-causing chemicals.” They’re all over the place. Literally. But the last one I saw really struck me. I bought a stainless steel sink drain strainer. Packaged on cardstock with a plastic bubble over it. And prominently displayed in the corner, the Prop. 65 warning. WTF?
California. Sigh.
Manufacturers probably put that on everything that might be sold in Calif. as a CYA. Like “registered with Penna. dept. of Agriculture” even if the baked goods are only distributed locally in, say, Hawaii.
I hope they put the male feminist in the general jail population while he awaits trial.
I also hope there’s someone with a camera around when he attacks the wrong woman.
From “Laconic Replies For All Occasions,” comes this.
You’re welcome.
California. Sigh.
Born in Los Angeles, never lived anywhere but SoCal.
AND I work as chief clerk in a DA office and its like the numbnuts Democrats in Sacramento pull sleepless nights to figure out a way to dump criminals on the street.
Though, screw it, I’ve put a John Cox sign in my yard …right under my home office window. Someone nabs in within my sight I’m going to chase them down the street with a 9-iron.
Snail Racing
I kept racing snails.
At first they were very fast, winning most of their races.
They they lost form.
A friend advised me to take off their shells and they would gradually get faster again.
After a couple of weeks he rang me: are they getting faster?
No, said I, they are very sluggish.
*noise, which might not be applause*
No, said I, they are very sluggish.
[ Summons henchlesbians. ]
registered with Penna. dept. of Agriculture”
I believe that was because Pennsylvania was known to have very strict food safety & purity laws: consumers recognized it as a mark of genuine quality.
…a mark of genuine quality which canning companies were therefore strongly motivated to display not to cover their asses but to attract customers who cared about food safety and quality. (This was in the days before federal food laws and food inspectors.)
Wow. I spoke too soon. The valley is full of smoke from a 30 acre brush fire about 10 mile south, and there’s another about 60 miles north.