Friday Ephemera (773)
He has a level-10 wizard staff. || “Fuck white supremacy,” screamed the mentalist bint. (Or, when they can’t help but show you who they are.) || Shots fired. || Video Phones Are Here, 1993. || 53,000 photographs of airline meals. || Road manners. || The rise and fall of alien abduction. Previously. || Buckle up, cowboy. || Two exquisitely tiresome lesbians. || Suboptimal scenario. || Armed bank robbery, carjacking, more carjacking, then capture. || Adventures of the Bigfoot Boys. (h/t, Elephants Gerald) || The kind of crazy bitch who takes pleasure in gratuitously obstructing traffic. || More joys of public transport. || Three-wheeled mobile raincoat, 1943. || Can relate. || Not, it turns out, robots in disguise. || Newcomer to Kensington. || No, after you. || Lady’s got the blues.
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I have the ideal photo for that…
I see what you did there.
Heh. I was waiting for him to move on to using an actual paper fan. Alas. I remember Sunday school in south Florida back in ’69, we didn’t have air conditioning in that building yet and it had poor ventilation. So we kids would fold up our Sunday school papers to make fans to fan ourselves. For some bloody reason this would upset the old bat teaching our class. She would try to tell use that by fanning ourselves, our actions were actually making ourselves hotter.
In elementary school we didn’t have A/C either but we did have a huge fan that sat on the floor. Coming in from recess we would beg her to angle the fan towards us but our teacher would insist that doing so would cause us to get sick. She would then say that by pointing the fan at the ceiling it would actually make the room cooler.
I recall one hot and humid afternoon some years ago when much of the family had gathered, unplanned, in my late mother-in-law’s living room in her small terraced house. For reasons that escape me, she owned a collection of paper fans, which, gradually, one by one, we started putting to use. After maybe 45 minutes, half of those gathered were casually fanning themselves in a not entirely successful bid to stay cool.
We were one smart remark away from a comedy sketch.
Gas powered refrigerators were once a thing before the electric sort took over. They’re still available.
[ Adds more ice to drink. ]
Blowed up good. Blowed up real good.
From the comments:
As if such fans did not exist in India for a thousand years before Europeans arrived. Count on a leftist to make a moronic comment which is contra-historical in every possible way.
Heh.
I have the idealer photo:
As it’s quite warm here, I’m experimenting with ice-to-gin-and-tonic ratios.
This may take some time.
IMHO, hanging a few, or more, from lamp posts in their neighborhoods ought to sharpen their focus first. Then mass deportation for the rest with promises of similar treatment for any who sneak back.
I hope you are keeping careful records. Pen only. No pencil. No erasing. No retroactive writing.
[ Volunteers to be lab assistant. ]
I find your ideas compelling and wish to subscribe to your newsletter.
[ Continues experiments with rhubarb-and-ginger gin. ]
So many variables to consider.
[ Slurping, scribbling, chin-stroking. ]
And a large data set.
I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the size of this gin and tonic.
[ Scribbling intensifies. ]
You’re supposed to pour it down your throat, not in your ear.
Sshh. I’m doing science.