Friday Ephemera (791)
At last, a camera for your toilet bowl. || And lo, her chakras were aligned. || Can cleaning your car increase its value? || I have questions regarding the décor. || On elephants’ toenails. || On self-knowledge and its absence. || At last, a miracle breakthrough. || The British in Benidorm, 1983. || Meanwhile, in the world of art. || And in musical theatre news. || A brief history of the sewing machine. || The man who walked on his head, 1904. (h/t, Neatorama) || Sign language translation gloves. || She’s swag and awesome, you hear? || Today’s word is inadvisable. || The story of the THX Deep Note. || She’s squeezing out the patriarchy with her pelvic floor exercises. || He caused a crash, stole the attending ambulance, then crashed that too. || He has cute little girl feet. || Some unfortunate flaccidity.
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There’s a sucker born every minute.
Pronunciation guide: “New Age” rhymes with “sewage”.
So that’s what they’re for.
Single file, please, follow the ‘Exit’ signs, single file, . . .
Letting all the voices have a say.
Would not ever want to be in that head.
Past time to make retroactive abortions a thing.
Am sorely tempted to interrupt guided tours at art museums to ask “How much did you pay for this shite?”
Pairs so well with that hairline.
The obsession with saving the Spotted Owl genome.
To the point of madness.
One-star review of note.
Cultural appropriation FTW.
“Today’s word is inadvisable.“
Zookeepers do it with CO2 Fire Extinguishers!
“I have questions regarding the décor.”
Traveller family, if I had to guess.
But the crims are just like us, right?
Morning, all.
[ Slurps coffee. ]
Heh.
Chappie, needless to say, is a sociologist. He likes to call people Nazis.
Being a left-leaning sociologist – but I repeat myself – Mr Gurmendi has learned to pretend all kinds of things, to ignore contradictions, and to do the pinhead dance. He knows which pretences confer high status, and that’s what matters.
And he doesn’t take kindly to people pointing that out.
But hey. Let’s all trust his perceptions and do whatever he says.
Only $599!
MY EYES.
Plus a recurring membership fee. But hey, it does come with fingerprint authentication. So there’s that.
The ruched-curtains-and-glitterball combo in the kitchen didn’t sway you?
Still mulling how a flaccid gear stick might actually work.
[ Does weird hand gestures. ]
Self-knowledge not for everyone.
I shouldn’t think it would be a happy process, given what we see. Hence, the apparent imperviousness, I suppose.
Every day I get a bit more okay with being called a racist, Nazi, etc. Because the alternatives look insane.
That could go south really quickly.
Well, if the alternative to being A Very Bad Person is to become like our sociology lecturer, to pretend umpteen absurd and untrue things and to disavow the most obvious basis for objecting to degradation, then the name-calling, on which he relies so heavily, rather loses its oomph.
For instance, the pretence that one can have no objective basis for preferring newcomers, or new neighbours, of one sort as opposed to any other. As if culture were simply a matter of seasoning and dress sense, with no implications of a more important kind.
As if the arrival of this chappie here, and many others like him, could have no unhappy or suboptimal effects. No things one might regret.
Today’s word is inadvisable.
Timothy Treadwell was unavailable for comment.
The British in Benidorm, 1983.
“Hell is other people.” — Jean Paul Sartre. Especially with puppets.
The British in Benidorm, 1983.
It’s the Great British Bake Off, innit? Wot with the sun . . .
I’m still watching it. It’s like a car wreck, you can’t turn away. The Puppet Man is creepy AF.
I’ve enriched your day. I’m so happy.
The British in Benidorm, 1983.
The souvenir photo of you and the wine bong. 0.o
The British in Benidorm, 1983.
I am 20 minutes in. If I were there, that ostrich would be up that guy’s fucking ass if he came near me. Try me.
Which is why so much of sociology is lies and delusions.
I believe it’s supposed to be an emu, as in Rod Hull and Emu, an allegedly popular entertainment offering from Britain of the 70s.
And which, obviously, makes things so much classier.
Ever day I become more comfortable with Pinochet helicopter jokes. Leftists are our avowed deadly enemies. Tolerating them is folly.
The British in Benidorm, 1983.
Donkey rides but no donkey show? I’d want a refund.
I am 20 minutes in. If I were there, that emu would be up that guy’s fucking ass if he came near me. Try me.
FIFY, Dave
The British in Benidorm, 1983.
Thirty minutes in AND NO SHAGGING.
When does the shagging start? I thought that’s what all Brits live for whilst on holiday.
The British in Benidorm, 1983.
What a simpler time. Let’s let the Brits in the bull ring. What liability?
Still no sex. I am disappoint.
The British in Benidorm, 1983.
Emu Wife is a walking medical nightmare. “D’you have a Spanish word for diarrhea, so I can go into the chemist’s . . .?”
I vaguely remember seeing the damn things on sale, along with other tat, in seaside gift and ‘novelty’ shops, back when I was a wee seedling. The kind of places where you could buy stink bombs, allegedly “shocking” wind-up hand buzzers, and the ever-popular plastic dog shit.
And so, a garish nightmare of tinsel and polyester, destined to disintegrate after mere minutes of use, would fit right in.
The British in Benidorm, 1983.
Fourteen days? They spent FOURTEEN DAYS in that shithole?
BTW, I am assuming the penultimate scene with the bathroom flushes is meant to convey the perils of water in a foreign land. In 1980, I was an exchange student in the USSR and water had to be boiled, even for brushing teeth, lest one develop the Trotskies.
You owe me 40 minutes of my life back.
Eye cleanse after watching The British in Benidorm, 1983.
No refunds. Credit note only.
And besides, you clearly got your money’s worth.
“Black Americans never depended on the government…”, but if we lose government food stamps and other freebies we are going to (cleans screen) eat wypipo because we don’t depend on the government. Somehow I don’t think she has thought the “buying land and growing food” part out (or anything else, for that matter).
“I’m entitled to these programs because I don’t make enough…” which is not surprising as this one hasn’t worked for 15 years because, I guess why bother when she gets the freebies.
Big city WallyWorld’s are going to get even more exciting.
And hey, who wouldn’t want that dull abomination moving in next door? Because all cultures are equal, you know. Our sociology lecturer says so.
Poor bloke does need something to distract him from his female pattern baldness.