“Equitable Vaseline.” || Lost and found (or, Your Mother Must Never Hear Of This). || She’s explaining who she is, you see. || Nipping of note. || Oddly, it didn’t catch on. || And this beast from the 80s also failed to find a market. || Hell’s kitchen. || Conflict resolution. || I laughed and I’m not sorry. || Hers is bigger than yours. || Getting rid of the body is always the tricky part. || I’ll need a keyboard and some mashed potato. || A project for the weekend. || Shopping mall scenes. || The jeans of Joan Collins, 1981. || Jupiter rotating in real time. || And it ain’t a reward either. || How to tie a scarf. || Question asked. || Neighbours not welcome. || What ‘activists’ do. || Crime-fighting crisis. || And finally, how to impress your friends with interacting vortices.

And yes, by all means follow me on Twitter. 

The price of happiness. || Postmodern Pong. || Paragliding DJ. || The ideal male body. || Logo of note. || Have you licked your eyes today? || Clearly, his are way stretchier than yours. || The thrill of waxing (or, One Man’s Woes). || Nook-dweller detected. || When autogynephile men get off in ladies’ bathrooms. (Not, needless to say, suitable for work). || And nobody helps. || I’m not entirely sure what’s happening here. || Posh pad. Hit ‘walkthrough’ and turn left. (h/t, Julia) || The joys of public transport, part 4,868. || “It’s time to talk about my pronouns.” Because she’s just so damn fascinating. || The progressive retail experience, parts 440, 441, 442, and 443. || Only recruiting the cream. (h/t, pst314) || A cat’s conscience is at best intermittent. || First contact. || And finally, how Marvel shat the bed – one woman’s point of view. 

Also, I now have a Twitter account.

A good nose. || Dinner and a show. || The spread of dumplings. || He does this better than you do. || And she does this better than you do. || Meme density. || Discussing TV. || Temporal anomaly detected. (h/t, Tim) || Speaking, as we were, of Scientific American. || A point is made. || What CPR does. || Paedophile Pride, you say. || And of course we mustn’t forget the terribly put-upon animal-shaggers. || Incoming. (h/t, Perry) || Inevitable, I suppose. || The thrill of houseplants. || Hiring decision of note. || “Gender–affirming surgery,” you say? || In our brave, progressive tomorrow, white devils will be laid off first. || Not commissioned, just a fan. || From charcoal and water. || And finally, for adventurous motorists, another what-if scenario. 

Also, I now have a Twitter account.  

Bubbling detected. || An abundance of ladybirds. || Singled out. || Monkey see, monkey do. || Mahi-mahi. || “It’s mango, don’t you like it?”  (h/t, Ben) || The shadow of the Moon. || Magic show of note. (h/t, Desert Rat) || Signage. (h/t, Perry) || Summon the worms. || Today’s word is uncrossable. || Kiss of life. || I foresee accessibility issues. || Steals car, kidnaps child, when caught invokes victimhood. || As cabin views go, it’s pretty decent, actually. || Treasuring the good times. || Hardcore teacher. || Two types of home security, exchanging looks. || Stealth tech in action. || He was sent to buy curtains. || That’s exactly how I would’ve done it. || How to enhance your viewing of vampire-romance movies. || And finally, via Paul Johnson, when the Space Age met the Stone Age, in 1964.

Oh, and a reminder that I now have a Twitter account.  

Guess he needed some attention around the back end. || He does this better than you do. || Not unstylish sea beastie. || Autonomous, unmanned beverage and snack car. || What do you keep in your drawers? || Delivery detected. || Why dogs don’t rule the… oh. (h/t, Perry) || Greetings, human. || Greenery of note. || Gothic mansion, Lancashire, needs a little work. || Kraftwerk being Kraftwerk, 1982. || Classy funeral do. || What concerns me, though, is the lack of toilet paper. || Middle-school teacher needs your help. || And in mining museum news. || Nightmare scenario. || Jar contents of note. || Meaty scenes. || Tokyo, 1935. || He’s “validating” himself. Other terms are available. || It’s like a Rorschach test. || At last, a flamethrower for kids. || And finally, his telekinetic shield proved somewhat inadequate.