Friday Ephemera (788)
I am the night. || High winds, some swaying. || Hot and spicy. || Hooves, leather, crossbow bolts and other vulture treasure. || Digitised Da Vinci. || Don’t pull that face, it’s trans scholarship. (h/t, Pst314) || You’re drawing the Moon all wrong. || For likes, you know. || Owl versus socks. || Swingers. || Would watch. || Call it swapsies. || Social interaction is always a pleasure. || The progressive retail experience, parts 671, 672, 673, 674, 675, 676 and 677. || An exact replica, see. || Rap, but with breathing difficulties. || Forging balls. || The ancient sport of road bowling, 1978. || The Nine Billion Names of God. || I’m sure the state will do a bang-up job. || Just checking. || Ejaculation stats. || The robots are coming. || It matters who comes. || And finally, somewhat alarmingly, incoming edges.
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Why on earth would the rozzers mace children?
Oh, at least no one got shot over a game this time.
Sounds like it might be a passable chili.
“Just because it’s not nice doesn’t mean it’s not miraculous.” — Terry Pratchett
More to the point, why wouldn’t they?
‘Gentle parenting’ seems to result in ‘entitled aggression’.
A proud tradition, the rite of passage by which Florida Boy proves he’s ready to be Florida Man.
BTW, don’t forget a bit of dark chocolate.
When I was still in the cube farm, it was the women who gossiped constantly. Can we crack down on that?
Who knew that in the executive washroom, the mention of video assistant referees is a rakish innuendo. In the cubicles, where a lot of the guys don’t even have conquests at the weekend, football talk tends to be just a gateway to more football talk.
Ms Francke has an OBE for services to Workplace Equality, and the kinds of people who get OBEs know that male bonding, at least in the executive class, is incompatible with workplace equality. But it’s also obligatory to say that women are just as good as men at male bonding, if not better, and that the sportsbanter gap can be narrowed by ensuring the presence of female role models in media sportsbantering.
Speaking of higher powers,
They’re stickers, apparently.
Not too shabby, if I say so myself.
[ Takes down police tape, arranges for sand bags to be taken away. ]
Isn’t telling lies a sin?
It would be nice if the unheard would shut the hell up once in a while.
That so much of our publicly bankrolled artistic caste is made up of creatures like Mr Vellis, who can say, “Graffiti is the language of the unheard” and not feel silly, and who can use “marginalised communities” in every third sentence, and who declares his fabulist pronouns to be “they/them,” is something of a civilisational shortcoming.
I mean, you’d hope we could do better.
“marginalized communities” are so marginalized that they seem to running the show. Just sayin’
A novel way to find St. Thomas’ grave, listening for the high-pitched sound of rapidly spinning bones.
It’s a commandment for Marxists.
Readers are welcome to poke through Mr Vellis’ sneak preview in search of thoughts never before expressed.
The Church of England has been so evacuated of any transcendent aspiration, so laughably flaccid, for so long, the accusation of being sacrilegious strikes me as almost comically inapt. Gates and bolted horses. But the flimsiness of the so-called “work,” it’s banality, the lack of any discernible aesthetic properties, or even any difficulty in its construction – the sheer crapness of it – does rather irk.
I mean, again, can’t we hope for better? Is this just the standard now, forever?
I hadn’t read the story, I don’t think, but that was a nicely done bit of film. Er, tape. Bits and bytes.
Can we seriously talk about footage anymore?
In other news, my notifications have been, as they say, blowing up. A reply of mine on X – one word and a link – has had over 300,000 views.
I seem to have spent half the day swiping away likes.
You wish you had my glamorous life.
Hook up a generator.
Power the city.
And the next one over.
“Cyril Bennis, volunteer swan warden…” seems to be having a problem with diversity.
The punishment should guarantee that he never offends again.
Not too shabby, if I say so myself.
Could you post, or link to, the recipe?
Not sure I’d call it a recipe as such. That implies some kind of precision. Onions, garlic, red and jalapeño chillies, red chili paste, dried chili flakes, umami paste, peppers, diced or shredded beef, two beef stock pots, Gran Luchito chili sauce, red beans (optional), cumin seed, oregano. And maybe, as mentioned upthread, a small piece of dark chocolate.
Then let it seethe. Eat the following day. Ideally, with sour cream and chive dip.
Poor you.
Hey, don’t belittle my suffering. I could develop Swiper’s Wrist. And I should add that being liked doesn’t seem to have any beneficial effects.
[ Browses Amazon for tiny, satin wrist cushion. ]
Band name.