Friday Ephemera
An appreciation of snugness. (h/t, Damian) || Who invented toast? || Justified reversal of note. || You may begin feeling ancient… now. || Norwegian kayaking. || Saint-Saëns in his pyjamas, circa 1900. || Burbles, can be stroked, and doesn’t poop. || He’s bad. || The thrill of bread-making. || Flying train, 1902. || This layer cake is more complicated than yours. || Hoss pop. || Antifa are just like normal people and in no way unusual. || Non-essential component detected. || Knitwear of note. || The upscale low-noise massager you’ve always wanted. || Meanwhile, in Sheffield, romance blooms. || Rethink of note. || Bat discotheque caught on camera. || And finally, athletically, an excellent use of the buttocks.
an excellent use of the buttocks.
I can assure you the neoprene suit is needed for that manoeuver. In a regular bathing suit you’d get a deep water enema. Speaking from experience.
Bat discotheque caught on camera.
Pretty sure I went to that club in 1978.
Rethink of note.
Awfully nice of Sam Gagner to give the kid his stick considering he was wearing the opposing team’s jersey.
@ Steve: “I can assure you the neoprene suit is needed for that manoeuver. In a regular bathing suit you’d get a deep water enema.”
Unfortunately my neoprene ski-suit, when bare-footing on Big Stone Lake in Three Lakes, Wis. in 1980 had, unknown to me, sprung some stitches in the nether regions and I did get flushed when finishing my run by throwing back to slide to a halt.
“Burbles, can be stroked, and doesn’t poop.”
It’s a Tribble. They’ve invented a Tribble, haven’t they?
Was anyone arrested in Portland who wasn’t trans? What the hell?
Morning, all.
Was anyone arrested in Portland who wasn’t trans?
The above is a tiny snapshot of the phenomenon and Andy Ngo has previously remarked on the prevalence of trans individuals among Antifa. It’s an interesting concentration, much higher than chance alone would seem to allow. I suspect that if you subtracted the people with gender identity issues, unattractive facial tattoos, and/or cluster B personality disorders, Antifa would probably fit in the back of a small car.
He’s bad.
That’s brilliant.
That’s brilliant.
It’s just wrong enough to work, I think.
Pretty sure I went to that club in 1978.
It does evoke the goth contingent of several clubs I stumbled around as a yoot; the dancefloor sticky with beer, and the air thick with industrial-strength hair lacquer.
Non-essential component detected.
Is it too late to ask for a refund?
This Bird gets about a bit.
via Byzantine Emporia
The Theragun Elite PR team knows how to disappoint. See it in action they proudly proclaim. Yes, I admit, I was expecting to see a nubile wench or muscled hunk “relaxing” to the gun’s soothing vibration…
Today’s word is ‘harsh’.
https://twitter.com/harvardgraduat/status/1293660367772516352
sprung some stitches in the nether regions and I did get flushed
I think this is what the kids mean when they say TMI.
This Bird gets about a bit.
The Caspian Sea Monster must have scared it away for part of that time, based on the flight path record.
Is it too late to ask for a refund?
No refunds. Credit note only.
I think this is what the kids mean when they say TMI.
Hey, we’re forward-thinking, enlightened types here. We don’t judge.
[ Opens file marked NTSOG, adds suspected deviant. ]
Sent 50 quidses to fund NTSOG. Is that something like an X-File or have I unknowingly contributed to my own oppression?
Sent 50 quidses…
Bless you, sir. May your enemies’ grocery deliveries rarely, if ever, arrive at the promised time, and always with disappointing substitutions.
I see your bat disco and raise you an eldritch sacrificial rite:
https://www.classicfm.com/composers/stravinsky/rite-of-spring-teletubbies/
If your memory serves you well, this might be a good tune for your non=essential component.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6aJrPbeBfg
An interview with author Michael Collins.
..the dancefloor sticky with beer,…
In the club I’m thinking about, there was a back room that had never been cleaned where a crusty pint glass stood on a lonely, filthy table. I picked up the glass and the whole table came with it; and it was a heavy table. The club was called Nuts and Bolts and was very Punk/New Wave, where everyone was “Dancing with themselves.”
Kind of like this place. ;p
Kind of like this place.
Cans of hair lacquer and wraps of bad speed are available at the bar. Ask for Big Sheila.
Just don’t mention her teeth.
Caption competition?
https://twitter.com/GarbyJooman2020/status/1294155166774489089
Caption competition?
I can see skin. Stone her!
Guard your grain bins.
…the dancefloor sticky with beer,…
My most frequented drinking hole back in Jersey had flooring you stuck to in summer. It was carpeted.
Flying train, 1902.
That reminds me of a funny story told many years ago by the sf writer Larry Niven, known for his serious attention to science: Someone remarked to him that the writer Richard Lupoff had made serious criticisms of the science in Lupoff’s most recent story was “Sacred Locomotive Flies”, at which point Niven laughed and gave no further thought to the matter.
Arrgh: that should have been “…made serious criticisms of the science in one of Niven’s stories. When Niven asked who Lupoff was, he was told that Lupoff’s most recent story was ‘Sacred Locomotive Flies’…”
Caption competition?
The Biden mask mandate.
Caption competition?
Mahmoud’s selfie was photo-bombed. RIP, Mahmoud, you will be missed.
Larry Niven, known for his serious attention to science
Ehhh. I lost a lot of respect for him after I read “Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex”.
Caption competition?
Anybody remember that time…that time when I was younger and grew a beard and took a selfie with these three hot chicks? Shh…don’t tell my wife…
In the club I’m thinking about, there was a back room that had never been cleaned where a crusty pint glass stood on a lonely, filthy table.
In the establishments I used to frequent a ‘back room’ signified something quite different. It’s a miracle I’ve managed to remain so vestal and unblemished.
Ehhh. I lost a lot of respect for him after I read “Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex”.
Why?
Mahmoud’s selfie was photo-bombed. RIP, Mahmoud, you will be missed.
Some random interviewer: What can you tell us about the Beirut explosion?
Achmed the Dead Terrorist: New guy.
In the establishments I used to frequent a ‘back room’ signified something quite different.
I did once visit a club with what I suppose could be described as a shagging mezzanine.
Caption Contest.
Mamhoud trades three of his wives for an acre of corn. Great trade!!
I did once visit a club with what I suppose could be described as a shagging mezzanine.
I’ve been told there was a bar in my city that once had something called the “slurpee bar”–and it wasn’t the 7/11 if you know what I mean.
The Canucks stick giver must have been Sam Gagner from 2019-2019. No one else has worn that number recently. They traded him.
“I did once visit a club with what I suppose could be described as a shagging mezzanine.”
Opera’s never been the same since they went out of fashion.
In the establishments I used to frequent a ‘back room’ signified something quite different.
I did once visit a club with what I suppose could be described as a shagging mezzanine.
I’ve been told there was a bar in my city that once had something called the “slurpee bar”–and it wasn’t the 7/11 if you know what I mean.
I’m beginning to think I’ve led a very sheltered and boring life.
The Canucks stick giver must have been Sam Gagner from 2019-2019.
Beat you to it. See first comment in the thread.
” Caption competition?”
Number two, just this once, can we get a nice family photo where everyone is smiling?
Ehhh. I lost a lot of respect for him after I read “Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex”.
To pile on with @pst314, why?
Maybe that predated https://larryniven.fandom.com/wiki/Rishathra in Ringworld, but nonetheless…
I’m beginning to think I’ve led a very sheltered and boring life.
I’m rather glad that I’ve been able to not internalize the many things that lead you to write that comment, despite my knowledge of their existence.
And since I’m being annoying, I can (sadly) validate “@Steve E” and @NTSOG comments about landing anus first on the water while water skiing.
In my case, someone drove a boat between me and the boat pulling me whilst I was water skiing. The waves generated by the interloper caused me to fly into the air and thus land upon my fourth point of contact while being pulled by the boat that allowed me to water ski in the first place at the same rate.
I was simultaneously negatively and exceedingly surprised by the rush of lake water into my lower bowel.
For those of you who might wonder, it was Belton Lake in ~1985 when those horrible events happened. (https://tpwd.texas.gov/fishboat/fish/recreational/lakes/belton/access.phtml for current details, despite their limited relevance to today.)
…despite their limited relevance to today
That should read …despite their limited relevance today to those horrible events of yesteryear.
I think you should be able to guess the level of PTSD from such a horror by my inability to accurately describe the events.
hopes nobody sees the shifty eyes
shagging mezzanine
Band name.
Band name.
I think it could be improved – even more – by adding the definite article – The Shagging Mezzanine. Like The Cocteau Twins or The Teardrop Explodes.
To make it classy, like.