Friday Ephemera (739)
For some reason, I wasn’t expecting the bra. || Bar tab of consequence. || Bracing scenes. || Brush thoroughly. || Sky potholes. || Spillage of note. || Stalin’s longevity serum. || How jellyfish hunt. || It’s not hijinks, it’s an attempt to harass and dominate. || Disruptive customer detected. || Uncanny resemblance. || The thrill of ingrown hair. || Nosferatu, 1922. || When it happens, it will have happened 3,000 years ago. || You want one and you know it. || Today’s word is visibility. || Street justice scenes. || How to needlessly get yourself tased. || String and typewriters. || On pronouncing scone. || “Dear person,” and other letters. || Dispute of note. || The progressive retail experience, parts 583, 584, and 585. || Spider goats. || And finally, stroking, rubbing, and definitely some bulging.
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Good, but not really enough justice.
Dispute of note.
I would suggest that Mr. Max Jenkins leave the boards up lest while watching a play on the BBC John Wilkes Booth sneaks up and shoots him .
Unmet minimum?
What’s wrong with this picture?
Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.
Estimated IQ: 85.
Although I have known dumbasses whose IQ’s seemed around 100. I recall one man who said that when stopped by the police he always got out of his car to face the officer as an equal, rather than stay in the car with his hands on the wheel as police want you to do.
How about the right to be bopped upside the head with a nightstick?
Or better yet, the right to receive a load of buckshot?
Here in America I’ve only heard it pronounced to rhyme with stone.
But now I wonder if American scones are different than UK scones: The ones I’ve had here, supposedly authentic, are rather dry and dense. So I far prefer croissants.
Consent badges at a furry convention
gay flamingo couple is appeased
The next Top Gear?
A ‘gay flamingo couple’?
gay flamingo couple is appeased
Best comment on the thread, “I bet the baby turns out weird.”
I can see DO NOT INTERACT and LEAVE ME ALONE as easily being worth 8 quid.
What are the best classic British foods (savoury)?
I am a “gone” person (my accent = bogan australian)
Only found out there was another way from watching The Goodies.
I would put a Steak & Kidney combo near the top, as I would Haggis, piped in or not.
Thank you, because of that I have now watched this
Laughed, not sorry.
Morning, all.
Not today, sunshine.
“You want one and you know it.“
This could overtake the log burner as item of choice for the middle class homeowner!
I did appreciate the lady in the halter top standing on the fucker’s legs. Nice touch.
[ Slurps coffee. ]
Hm. May be time to rustle up a cottage pie.
One more time. We are objects in their world.
Why is this happening in a restaurant? Why is it happening at all?
Answers on a postcard, please.
Didn’t he pay his bill?
[ Slides spoon, and large jar of Marmite, to John D. ]
Poor she, big tears.
So she f*cked around and found out?
It’s quite the presumption:
But such is the world of the unspanked narcissist. The kind of person, who, on hearing news that they regard as upsetting, immediately reaches for their phone to record themselves crying, while repeatedly glancing at the camera, and who then uploads the video to social media, fishing for likes and affirmation from total strangers.
Needless to say, our weepy slut wants you to believe she’s “non-binary.”
It’s like a textbook.
[ Drapes VIP rope around dicentra’s bar stool, shoos away peasants. ]
Best implies that some of them are good.
Oh no, I screwed up that link.
This is the correct Top Gear link.
So she f*cked around and found out?
Nah, I call bullshit. I think she set up her little camera and staged it for the likes. Because frankly polyamorous implies more than one person finds her attractive and even a single entity in that category is doubtful.
[ Moves Ted’s bar stool nearer to toilets. ]
Seems like a reasonable ranking.
[ Retrieves David’s notebook from behind bar. Writes “known deviant”. ]
See, I detest kidney, with some passion, but found haggis surprisingly tasty.
[ Recoils in horror. ]
It was in a fancy restaurant with a terribly fashionable guest chef, whose terribly fashionable name I can’t recall, so maybe he tarted it up a bit.
It’s not a dish I hanker for, you understand, but it was a pleasant surprise.
I liked the comment:
“I bet the baby turns out weird.”
(Oh, I see Steve E got there before me)
[ Resumes prepping enormous cauldron of chili. ]
[ Tries to remember not to rub eyes. ]
*fears worst*
*clicks link anyway*
WTF 😶
There’s always a new worst.
That’s the spirit. Women like a man with fortitude.
“You’re seeing another woman”
Funny. Never actually saw this when it aired.
Hopefully not the fortitude to eat haggis.
I remember enjoying the whole series. Lois throwing out her back and being left bedridden from excessive shouting, for instance.
Oh, and Hal’s feud with the bee.
Er, excuse me. Here I am, bringing a little colour to your humdrum lives. A little taste of the exotique.
Like having a Vesta packet curry every Friday.
String and typewriters.
The most impressive part of that is the way he has it rigged his right hand is playing what the left normally would, and vice versa.
…and definitely some bulging.
Given it is somewhere in the Orient it is likely that he saw what was being served and asked for his eyes to be gouged out. OTOH, maybe it is just a technique for getting ingrown hairs out.
Still thinking about Vesta packet curries.
Back in the late Seventies, they were, by many, regarded as quite fancy. A taste of foreign parts. You can, I’ve discovered, still buy the bloody things from Amazon. Whether they’re original stock, warehoused for fifty years, I could only speculate.
Still, I shouldn’t think such piffling details would impair the flavour, such as it is.
ISWYDT
This is my innocent face.
[ Holds up photo of adorable puppy. ]
I think bringing her cheese would have been easier.
The introduction of the slide whistle tipped things in his favour.
She’s his forever now.
The trend of replacing simple, easily understood, words with multi-syllabic chaff is annoying.
Yes, “coming out as polyamorous” is adding glitter to a turd.
She’s his forever now.
Indeed, and the inspiration for his new album, Slide Whistle Love Slave.
Why is this happening in a restaurant?
A lot of weird things happen in restaurants.
My wife and I vacation in a small town on the shores of Lake Huron. The downtown is quaint with lovely shops and restaurants. It still has angled parking on both sides of the main street. An enterprising couple decided to start a business and took over a recently vacated building.
The business was basically a nail salon but with a twist. It’s also a restaurant. I know, you’re thinking yum. But yes, it’s a nail salon and Vietnamese restaurant.
(They were serving nail clippings well before David added them to the bar snacks.)
To complete this picture of small town Arcadia, imagine, if you will, the two story structure that houses said business combo, painted with a delightful mural of, what can only be described as some sort of cross between mermaids, Poseidon and Aquaman. It’s in “lovely” shades of greenie-blue. Of course it’s called Atlantis Esthetics and Eatery. Enjoy the after school special of Koran (sic) Corndog and a small drink for $11.99–sure to fuel your child’s growing mind.
[ Toys with idea of ordering a Vesta packet curry, just to see. ]
If Steve starts rubbing anyone’s face, there’s a panic button by the bar.
If Steve starts rubbing anyone’s face, there’s a panic button by the bar.
There’s more to the post. I hit the “post comment” button before finishing my story. But if you tip me I can throw in a good face rub.
But yes, it’s a nail salon and Vietnamese restaurant.
Here’s a local write-up of the business with a lovely picture of the top half of the mural. This is a conservative small town. You can imagine how the mural was received.
You can fascinate a woman with a piece of cheese.
Ah.
[ Finger hovers over panic button. ]
Oh, and as last week’s was such a big hit, here’s another.
The other horse didn’t even wake up.
“This is the way.”
From the picture it doesn’t look horrid. Better than expected, certainly.
From the picture it doesn’t look horrid.
[ Adds extra toe clippings and heel shavings to aelfheld’s banh mi ]
It’s not the loveliest thing in the world, granted, but the proprietrix seems to have plenty of entrepreneurial gusto. Just trying to wrap my head around the combination of sesame chicken, pedicures, and a spot of waxing.
For some reason, what entertained was the slight adjustment of the horse’s stance.
What?
Don’t judge me.
Imagine: Brazilian steakhouse upstairs, Brazilian waxing downstairs.
Brazilian waxing downstairs.
Well, yes, that is where it is generally done.
I remember asking this question while visiting Oz ages ago and being told by the nice older lady there that if I pronounce it like “bone” people will think you’re British. We laughed and laughed.
Pretty sure we had this discussion here ages ago. Unless that was about crumpets. (* Deep breath…sigh… *)
[ Eye twitches. ]
I don’t recall anything I was told here about the difference between crumpets and English muffins, except that the difference was important.
As I recall, someone had been cooking crumpets in a microwave.
[ Eye twitching intensifies. ]
Same here. But the “explanation” of the mural on that page got a raised eyebrow from me:
Modern sensibilities are magically found in a story in two dialogues of Plato.
I mostly ignored the text though I did wonder why anyone would think the waters under Atlantis would be particularly peaceful . . . or habitable.
I suppose American microwaves would be the chief provocation leading to the dispatch of galleons of vengeance. Especially if the brewing of tea were involved.
Hell, I don’t know. Something about Tim Walz though. I mean, it’s even got some China in it.
Great. At least I had my solitudinal zen, but you gotta harsh that too.
“talking in a British accent will completely change your life”
“I noticed myself becoming polished, refined, educated and classy….”
More grounds for dispatching galleons of vengeance.
Here is a new useless occupation, “Nutritional Sociologist”, one of whom has Deep Thoughts™.
You could have just said “Sociologist”.
You could have just said “Sociologist”.
No, that is vanilla uselessness, “Nutritional Sociologist” is extra useless not unlike “Marxist-Leninist” as opposed to just plain “Marxist”.
I just spent 22 days in the UK. London (Shepherds Bush), Cotswolds, Oxford, Dorset, Devon.
The big surprise (my last visit was over 20 years ago) was the food. With exactly one exception, uniformly excellent, varied, quality, well-served.
The lamb pie at a pub in Oxford was a standout. One might say, elegant.
Probably the only time I’ve heard a slide whistle without wanting to snatch it from the putative musician and snap it in two.
a rit of fealous jage.
Not even in the same category. British scones are similar to American biscuits, except sometimes they have more ingredients and flavor.
American scones are deep-fried dough that you serve with butter and honey (or honey-butter). Some people have the nerve to cut them open and stuff them with sammich fixins, but that is obviously completely wrong and evil.
Mr Thompson, I would take a shrewd guess that you are the blog owner here. Am I right?
Good evening, commenter muldoon. How are you, how is madame and all the little commenters?
Now im more puzzled. The scones I’ve had were baked. Triangular.
Like these?
I think there might be some regional linguistic differences going on. In the Mountain Time Zone, a scone is fried dough. I don’t know what those triangle things would be called. Never had them.