His Nuptials Were Impending

And after 27 bloody years, I think I can consider myself sufficiently wooed.
Steady on, don’t rush into it. Pinged. 🙂
The last argument I can recall concerned whether it’s better to butter toast while it’s hot, or to wait until it’s cooled, thereby resulting in unmelted, slightly sweeter butter. The correct answer should of course be obvious.
Butter on cold toast > butter on hot toast.

It’s basic science. Anything else is heathenry.
Cold toast? We Murricans may just have to sail across the Atlantic just to dump your toast in the harbor.
But seriously, I have heard that this custom arose from the fact that the toasting of bread normally took place far enough away that the toast would inevitably be cold by the time it was placed on table. Is that correct?
I have also heard that a crumpet is very similar but not identical to the English muffins found in America. Also correct?

I have also heard that a crumpet is very similar but not identical to the English muffins found in America. Also correct?
Did you miss the Great Crumpet Debate of May 2018…?

Oh, and by the way, Yorkshire Pudding, made from scratch, has long been a tradition in my family. Made with the drippings from roasting beef. Delicious! And yet easy to make. A simple recipe similar to popovers, except that popovers are not baked in the beef drippings.

Hades’ Star is a game. For the methodical, the patient or the slightly obsessive.

“grilling produces better results than using a toaster”
Don’t you already have a flamethrower thingie for that?

Yeah, whatever happened to the flamethrower?
It gathers dust.

Hi pst314
I just read about Pinelandia the other day. 😄

David, the peaceful people of Pinelandia, threatened by cruel and powerful Krasnovia…
Someone’s geography is off, the People’s Republic of Krasnovia is between the Baja Republic, the Kingdom of Parumph, and The Republic of Mojave, the latter of which the perfidious Krasnovians are always threatening.
Pinelandia is is on Atlantica, east of North America, nowhere near Krasnovia. East of Atlantica is the island of Aragon, which really sucks.

Did you miss the Great Crumpet Debate of May 2018…?
Yes, yes. I caused all that. Go ahead, shame me. Shame, shame, shame…and apparently after all that I started I still didn’t learn what exactly a crumpet is. More shame.
Waiting for some ex-mil to comment on this more authoritatively..and maybe it’s buried in the link(s) and I missed it, but isn’t Pinelandia a war games or military exercise “enemy” placeholder name? Kinda like widgets in economics or foo/bar in programming?

Revise and extend – actually Cortina was the good guys, the Peoples Democratic Republic of Atlantica not so much.

“an US muffin” does sound silly. “A US muffin”, not so much.
I have issues.

Did you miss the Great Crumpet Debate of May 2018…?
Yes, yes. I caused all that. Go ahead, shame me.
I am now curious as to exactly what real crumpets are like, and will have to see if there is an English bakery in the area.

Wait, wait…. US crumpets are English muffins? That sounds a bit like the great cross-Atlantic biscuit/fried scone debate. (When is a biscuit not a biscuit? When you’re in the south of the US.)
We make sourdough crumpets and bread at home, mostly. I do miss the crumpets you buy from the store here in Australia – far closer to the English variety, I think – though sourdough crumpets have their own delights.
I recommend making toast from your homemade bread, though. It’s better than those thin wisps of doughy disappointment you’ll get from the supermarket. You’ll cut the slabs thicker and they’ll hold the heat better (thus making for runny butter goodness.)

I thought English biscuits were cookies?

Have pinged something towards the bar tab.
Bless you, sir. May you never have to take an old mattress to the recycling depot.

Help yourselves to a bottle of super-economy-sparkling-wine-style-drink on me!
Bless you, sir. May fluff never gather beneath your sofa, gradually accreting into a kind of tumbleweed.

Cat fails to Thrive on day out at beach.
via Philippe Lemoine

A nice break from the trend of we all must hate wypipo for reasons, a reaction video, “…you say soul has no color ?” “…the whole damn time I thought the Righteous Brothers were black…”. For those in the UK, Joe Cocker is examined.
Warning as these things can be addictive if for no other reason than the music, but the dude has a lot of good points particularly about musicians in the pre-digital age actually having to know who to sing and/or play instruments as there was no autotune or correction in post.

This sounds familiar…
‘Luxury beliefs’ are the latest status symbol for rich Americans.
https://pjmedia.com/instapundit/339325/

I believe I should be provided with more luxury. All these virtuous leftists should turn their luxuries over to me.

Warning as these things can be addictive if for no other reason than the music
Thanks, Farnsworth … I just basked in that performance. And yeah, live performances really separated the musicians from the wannabes.

Ker-ching! . . . and Congratulations, David – I wish you and your beloved, the very best!

Farnsworth,
For those in the USA, Joe Cocker is translated.

Now that David’s gone to bed I can post my collection that goes back a couple years or more.
May the clock on your microwave never need resetting, resulting in several minutes of doomed rummaging for the user manual.
When visiting a local curry house, may you never be faced with the choice of whether to ask a neighbouring table of burly and inebriated rugby enthusiasts if they’d mind keeping the noise down a bit.
May you never be dismayed by a realisation that you’ve ordered rather a lot of the wrong size bin liners.
May your squiggly pasta quills be drained with utmost thoroughness.
May you never be shamed by the condition of your oven gloves.
May your black, glass-backed phone always be free of unsightly fingerprints.
May you never misjudge the amount of “flavour sachet” to add to your Nong Shim Shin Cup, resulting in numb lips, loss of voice and temporary disorientation.
May your secret vice of an occasional Pot Noodle be upgraded to a secret vice of an occasional Nong Shim Shin Cup, which is much classier and way more flavoursome.
May your socks never be mispaired or unwittingly worn inside-out.
May you know the simple pleasure of feeding a pair of badgers from an upstairs window, much to the bewilderment of a neighbour, for whom it appears you’re throwing leftovers into the garden under cover of darkness and quietly chuckling.
May you be spared the faff and drama of trying to retrieve an escaped hamster from the back of a cupboard underneath the sink, where, coincidentally, there is a large bag of hamster food.
May your loyalty card points accumulate in a pleasingly brisk manner.
May your pasta never be overcooked or inadequately drained.
May you never be watched with amusement while doing the ironing.
May you never find your tea towel damp and malodorous.
May your liking for indecently ripe cheeses never result in domestic friction, thanks to a discreet but effective fridge deodoriser.
May you always have lens wipes handy when you discover that your IMAX 3D glasses are smeared with what appears to be cheesy nacho residue.
May your 2-litre bottles of carbonated water never defy opening, prompting epithets and much exertion, and then vigorously expel their contents over every nearby surface, including the recently prepared sandwich you were planning to have for lunch.
May your 2-litre bottles of carbonated water retain their pleasing gaseousness until the last drop.
May your liquitabs always disintegrate properly, even on a cool wash, and never cling to the washer door as a rubbery, snot-like residue.
May you never wake to find that your open windows have been soiled, to a quite spectacular extent, by crows perched on the guttering.
May the padding of your ironing board never deteriorate, resulting in an unattractive grid pattern being imprinted on your second-favourite shirt.
May your shoelaces never expire and prove difficult to replace while the shoes themselves could be mistaken for new.
May the colours never fade from your favourite fashion item.
May your socks emerge from the dryer evenly dehydrated and not perceptibly damp around the tops, due to someone, whose name will not be mentioned, failing to unroll them before hurling them in the dryer.
May dust never gather on the extractor above the hob.
May the neighbours never catch you standing by the recycling bin, looking sweaty and exasperated, and struggling to flatten impossibly defiant cardboard packaging.
May you never be rudely awakened by the sound of a neighbour dumping a suspiciously large number of wine bottles into the recycling bin.
May you frequently be assumed to be younger than you are, and by quite some margin.
May midges respect your air-space.
May your butter forever be spreadable – neither too hard nor too soft – and free of unsightly toast crumbs.
May hedge trimmers never disturb your crafty afternoon nap.
May the number of items you can get away with not ironing be vast and ever-growing.
May your overstuffed 5p carrier bags retain their integrity until you get them home.
May you never mistake parsley for oregano and only realise too late.
May the letters never fade from your well-worn keyboard, resulting in occasional guesswork.
May your chopping board remain free of pestilence.
May your footwear remain fragrant on even the hottest of days.
May your struggles with duvet covers be brief and triumphant.
May wasps never build a nest near your open window.
May you often know the joy of freshly laundered sheets.
May your toaster remain free of scorched and ancient crumbs.
May you never know the horror of spilling turmeric on white trousers.
May your signal strength never falter in rural environs.
May your thread counts be high and your fabric softener effective.
May the yolks of your poached eggs be soft and yielding, and the whites firm, never runny.
May your struggles with freshly-laundered duvet covers be brief and unequivocal.
May you discover that haggis tastes better than it sounds.
May your Other Half forget your birthday just once, resulting in extra leverage when subsequently negotiating a suitable present.
May the cardboard tube inside your toilet roll never come unravelled, resulting in a delivery system that’s structurally unsound.
May you never misplace the corkscrew.
May you always remember to waterproof new boots.
May you be puzzled by an odd, irregular percussive sound and then be pleasantly surprised to spot a woodpecker in a nearby tree.
May your picnic tartlets never attract the attention of wasps, ants and other freeloaders.
May you never have to make-do with a heavily scented, non-moisturising brand of handwash.
May your hangers never tangle.
May your sleeve never catch on a door handle, causing you to throw coffee down a newly-painted white wall.
May your grill pan never require more than the lightest of soaks.
May the Wi-Fi always reach all corners of your home.
May you never know the sickening horror of a 9% phone battery level.
May your grapes always be seedless, and your raspberries never soften to a disagreeable degree.
May you find long-forgotten gems in your list of Sky TV recordings
May you never perspire more than is seemly.
May your toilet paper perforations always work as intended
May the grip-strip of your ‘resealable’ cheese wrapper never tear away in your hand the very first time you use it.
May your heels never require the attention of a dampened pumice stone on the eve of the local swimsuit modelling competition.
May your furnishings always be spotless, and the gin always plentiful, when the mother-in-law descends.
May your neighbours never copulate with such enthusiasm that they can be heard while you’re trying to complete a customer satisfaction survey.
May your window cleaner never startle you while coffee is being poured.
May your online grocery orders never be compromised with unwanted substitutions.
May your brand new roll of kitchen foil never stick to itself and then tear in a useless spiral.
May your squeezy talcum powder container never spring a leak, thereby projecting said powder over every nearby surface except the intended one.
May you never be faced with a choice of watching Finding Bigfoot, Hitler’s Jurassic Monsters or When Pedicures Go Wrong.
May your never discover that the exotic, neglected condiment at the back of the fridge, the one that you’re finally about to use, actually expired several years ago.
May the smell of fried onions never linger when houseguests descend.
May your armpits be fragrant during unexpected moments of intimacy.
May your tights remain orderly and your woollens never bobble.
During sales, may desirable shoes always be available in your size.
May you never discover that your toothbrush is in dire need of charging twenty minutes before you have to leave for a dental appointment.
May your sock drawer remain organised even in times of crisis.
May your smalls retain their shape after many, many washes.
May your towels never be darkened by unwanted houseguests.
May your toilet roll remain dry even after your other half has had a suspiciously long and thorough shower.
May your towels remain orderly even in times of crisis.
May your sandals remain fragrant on the hottest of days.
May your socks never be mispaired, however hastily they’ve been thrown in a drawer.
May your fridge remain fragrant despite the most potent of cheeses.
May your towels never lose their fluffiness, even after many washes.
May your towels remain fragrant after even the lengthiest spell in storage.
May your bathroom tissue never lose its structural integrity at an inopportune moment.
May your sandals remain fragrant on the hottest of days.
May your toaster bottom remain free of combustible crumbs.
May your visit to the supermarket never be blemished by accidentally picking up slimline tonic water.
May your fridge remain fragrant despite the most potent of cheeses and regardless of sell-by dates.
May your towels stay fragrant when houseguests descend.
May your sandals remain fragrant on the hottest of days.
May your bathroom tissue never lose its structural integrity at an inopportune moment. Even if it’s single-ply and heavily discounted.
May your car’s glove compartment never be bereft of wine gums or lemon-scented antibacterial hand wipes.
May your upholstery never discolour in places that are hard to conceal with carefully positioned cushions.
May your earbud cables never tangle, even after being stuffed in a pocket and jiggled about at length.
May your oven gloves never discolour.
May you never feel the icy horror of realising that you’ve just put your keys in the same pocket as your phone.
May your coat sleeve remain free of grease when carrying fish and chips home.
May your kitchen towel always be plentiful and remarkably absorbent.
May you never be short of deodorant.
May you never be mocked on laundry day by that defiant single sock, somehow overlooked until it was five seconds too late.
May you always find your roasting tin spotless and ready for use.
May your bananas never go from green to brown before you remember to eat them.
May you always find adequate parking.
May the rolls of leftover Christmas wrapping paper, stuffed right at the back of a closet and buried under numerous other neglected items, remain uncrumpled and perfectly usable twelve months later.
May your stylish slimline kitchen bin prove remarkably commodious and not in fact need emptying every bloody day.
May you never discover that your new can of Oust has a defective nozzle, thereby impairing, at the worst possible time, your efforts to eliminate the odour of fried onions.
May your toaster never rattle due to an accumulation of scorched crumbs.
May your bookshelves and knick-knacks never need dusting. Because, well, dusting.
May the shirt you’re planning to wear in approximately forty-five minutes always be fragrant and suitably ironed and never at the bottom of the laundry hamper.
May you know the small joy of remembering that you can go for a pee while still listening to YouTube videos, thanks to wireless ear buds.
May the aforementioned wireless ear buds remain securely in your ears while you’re peeing and not… well, best not to dwell on the alternatives.
May you never receive an Amazon notification informing you of a delivery driver “three stops away” while you’re halfway across town in a checkout queue.
May the cupboard under your sink remain orderly at all times.
Bless you, sir. May you never wake to the sound of hoovering.
May dust never gather on your hob extractor.
Should you find yourself offering cups of tea to visiting workmen, may you never discover that the long-neglected teabags stuck at the back of a cupboard actually expired several months ago, resulting in the dilemma of whether to chance it, or offer coffee instead.
May you discover a forgotten bottle of wine stashed in the dishwasher, which you never actually use for washing dishes and is instead full of takeaway menus, bin liners and unfathomable blender attachments.
May you never know the dismay of breakfast cereal soddened with low-fat milk. 
May your car’s glove compartment contain only the thing you happen to need right now and not the usual landslide of sweet wrappers, sunglasses and accumulated crap.
May you never be spotted with an unfashionable carrier bag.
May the extra-large eggs you ordered actually be large, not just slightly less small than the alternative.
May your sausages grill evenly and without the dramas of by-hand, ungloved sausage rotation.
May you never be thwarted by changes to the schedule of bin collection days.
Should you be having a dream in which you’re enjoying the fact that you don’t have to get up for ages, may you never suddenly wake to the sound of the alarm, which has been burbling away for several minutes and which quite possibly inspired the tragically inaccurate dream that you were having.
May your shoes be waterproofed in time for the first snow.
May you never know the small but grating irritation of people pronouncing ‘H’ as ‘haitch’.
May you never have trouble finding a SIM tray ejector tool.
May houseguests never tamper with your precisely calibrated shower settings.
May you never know the trauma of malodorous towels.
May lint never gather in your nooks and crevices.
May your grapes never wither before you remember to eat them.
May you be spared encounters with wasps.
May you know the joy of finding a very long, thin spoon that will reach into the nooks of tall but nearly empty condiment jars.
Should you feel inspired to grind fresh morning coffee for your other half, may you never be met with complaints about how loud the grinder was and how it woke them up.
May you never find that your upmarket washing-up liquid, which stands in a transparent container near the kitchen window, has, on account of exposure to sunlight, changed from an aesthetic blue to something remarkably close to the colour of urine. Thereby inviting questions as why you have what appears to be a container of urine on display in the kitchen.
May you never be five seconds into washing your hair before realising you’ve left your bloody glasses on.
May you be spared the horror of unlaundered, faintly clammy sheets.
May your bathroom shelves be spontaneously self-organising, such that deodorants and nail clippers are effortlessly accessible, not buried under bewildering piles of rammle and a residue of talc dust.
May you never be obliged to make do with an inferior brand of kitchen towel, the absorbency of which is questionable at best.
May any stickers that you have to remove from newly purchased items come away effortlessly, in one piece, and then fall precisely from your fingers into the awaiting bin. As opposed to what usually happens.
Should you have a bad cold and arrive at a pharmacy, intent on buying Day Nurse and Night Nurse, may you never be told that you can’t actually buy them because the pharmacist is out for lunch and no-one else in the pharmacy – a large, high street branch with at least six visible employees – is allowed to sell cold medicines to people with colds.
May all roads in the neighbourhood be resurfaced promptly and with minimal inconvenience.
May you remember to change any plug-in air fresheners on the exact day that they expire.
May you never find yourself using a toilet in which there are allegedly amusing booklets to read.
May your parking opportunities be numerous and uncannily convenient.
May your towels be fluffsome and coordinated.
May you never have to take an old mattress to the recycling depot.
May fluff never gather beneath your sofa, gradually accreting into a kind of tumbleweed.
May your choice of Bond film never be limited to either License to Kill or Moonraker.

The latter seems more efficient. They could take turns patriarchically oppressing the hamster 🐹.
What is a hob extractor?

Cartoon character grown up and working as a line cook is not “Calvin and Hob”. I stand corrected.

I can post my collection that goes back a couple years or more.
Some of you really do need to find more exciting leisure activities.

A performance poem, really.
[ Splutters with indignation. ]

Better stockpile those poems now!
https://twitter.com/ChrisJC12002/status/1163315384512057349

I haven’t used Google in 5 years.
I confess I say “google something ” the way many people have said “xerox something” instead of “photocopy”, or the way my old landlords called every refrigerator a Frigidaire. And thus I have become what I laughed at as a child thinking I was too sophisticated to ever make that error.

And congratulations on your upcoming nipples.
Yeah, full confession…when I first read the title of this thread I thought you had impacted molars. I mean, kinda makes sense. Percentages and all that.
my old landlords called every refrigerator a Frigidaire.
Slightly off but my mother used to call the refrigerator “the ice box”, which perplexed one of my visiting friends.

my mother used to call the refrigerator “the ice box”,
That was my grandmother who always called it “the ice box” and called the couch “the Davenport”.

called the couch “the Davenport”.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Davenport_(sofa)
the ice box
My grandparents said that.Born in the 1800’s, so they grew up with actual ice boxes. At one point in the 1930’s they lived in an apartment building which had a small refrigerator in each apartment but all driven by a single large refrigeration unit in the basement and refrigerant lines running to each apartment. State of the art!

the way many people have said “xerox something” instead of “photocopy”
Fun fact: For decades, Xerox maintained an army of lawyers whose sole function was to scan film and TV scripts to ensure they did not casually use “xerox” as a synonym for “photocopy”, so as to prevent the word from becoming public domain through common usage as happened to Kleenex.
Pitney-Bowes once had an ad campaign focusing on how much harder they worked to serve their customer base because as the #2 copier company, “no one is ever going to say ‘go and Pitney-Bowes off a couple hundred of these for me’.”

Pitney-Bowes once had an ad campaign focusing on how much harder they worked to serve their customer base because as the #2 copier company, “no one is ever going to say ‘go and Pitney-Bowes off a couple hundred of these for me’.”
I didn’t know about that. Sort of like the Avis “We try harder” slogan.

Except in Chicago where “the fridge” is Mr. Perry.

This sounds familiar too.
“The psychology of victim group rights”
https://youtu.be/Zk-PHDHqlqU

Congratulations, sir! In honor of the day I shall finally break down and order (through your portal) that boxed set of NCIS DVDs I’ve been eyeing…if such things still exist.
And maybe some Magnum P.I., or Walker, Texas Ranger, or something with Sam Elliot in it, or maybe some Sean Connery James Bond – I’ve a hankering for some toxic masculinity 😛

A day ending in Y.
Joke presidential candidate for whom the 1960s were evidently very, very good, proposes a “Department of Peace”. Groovy, man.
“Transgender” individual who was a joke congressional candidate is offended by the color of the logo of proposed Department of Age of Aquarius.
These bozos just cannot ever give it a rest, it is like heroin to them.

The price of a drink or two has been pinged.
Bless you, sir. May your sins be intriguing.

“May your sins…”. 😄
Commit the intriguing ones while you’re young. It’s hard to commit a really intriguing, can-you-top-this sin if you find yourself needing to be in bed before midnight. I forget who composed “After Midnight” but I bet he was under the age of 60 at the time!
Son turns 40 next month! 😳

Commit the intriguing ones while you’re young. It’s hard to commit a really intriguing, can-you-top-this sin if you find yourself needing to be in bed before midnight.
The confessional booth is over by the darts board. The tape recorder will spool up as soon as an arse hits the seat.

Hero. Remember him.

“Stupid driver ! My bike is OK, though.”

David, that mattress migration is the funniest thing you have ever posted. Good on ya, mate.
(Are girls allowed to call guys “mate,” or is it a strictly male thing like the manly handshakes?)

“Stupid driver ! My bike is OK, though.”
Import rats from inferior cultures, get inferior behavior.

It all reminds me of one of the more agreeable pieces of nonsense from Douglas Adams collected ‘Hitchhikers’.
“No one really knows what mattresses are meant to gain from their lives. They are large, friendly, pocket-sprung creatures which live quiet private lives in the marshes of Squornshellous Zeta. Many of them get caught, slaughtered, dried out, shipped out and slept on. None of them seem to mind and all of them are called Zem.”

I’ve found out what the orange button does.
Bless you, madam. May you be spared the indignity of overcooked peas.

Nightmare! 1 minute max. 🙂
Anything more is godless. Though I know of someone, who shall be spared public shaming, whose repertoire of kitchen skills consists almost entirely of extended periods of vigorous boiling. Not just vegetables. Pretty much anything that can, at least in theory, be boiled.