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The Brits have a lot of gall, picking on us Yankistanis and our abuse of th' English tongue.
The old woman of Mount Edwards
Published: Tuesday | March 9, 2010
... I asked if either of them knew of Miss Lecky, and the elder woman nodded. I asked if the stories of her ability to give the best advice were true and if they knew where I could find her.
"Den ah quite ah town yuh stay and here dat? Heh heh! What a prekeh!" said the woman with the pointy nose.
"Miss Lecky name gone abroad!" she added, gesturing wildly.
"Miss Lecky nuh too love company though, yuh know. But yuh can check har and see what happen. Just follow dis road likkle 'til yuh see a turning, den turn and yuh will see a old house. Is she alone live around there so yuh can't lost."
I thanked both women and walked off, thankful to be out from under the stare of the skinny one.
About five minutes later, I came across the corner I was told of and soon spotted a rickety old house. Its zinc roof was rusty and the windows had large gaps that were patched with pieces of wood. There was a blue plastic drum full of water outside but no sign of anyone. Surprisingly, there was a car parked not far away, but there was nobody inside it.
I walked up to the door of the house, then stood a second in silence, wondering what to do next. I gave it a knock. Silence. I knocked again. Silence.
"Miss Lecky?" I hollered. No sound. After a couple minutes more of knocking and looking around I started to curse my luck. Ticked off for having come this far without success, I walked off. But then I heard it. Though faint, I clearly heard a woman's voice inside.
"Is who dat now?" Excited, I shouted my name and said I just wanted to speak with Miss Lecky because I had heard great things about her back in Kingston.
"Kingston? But I nuh go dem places! It too chuck-up chuck-up," the woman said. I asked if she was Miss Lecky. "I am Lecky," the woman replied. I asked if she was often approached by members of the community for advice. "Well, yes, every minute. But is just because mi old dem seh mi wise," she replied. ...
Published: Tuesday | March 9, 2010
... I asked if either of them knew of Miss Lecky, and the elder woman nodded. I asked if the stories of her ability to give the best advice were true and if they knew where I could find her.
"Den ah quite ah town yuh stay and here dat? Heh heh! What a prekeh!" said the woman with the pointy nose.
"Miss Lecky name gone abroad!" she added, gesturing wildly.
"Miss Lecky nuh too love company though, yuh know. But yuh can check har and see what happen. Just follow dis road likkle 'til yuh see a turning, den turn and yuh will see a old house. Is she alone live around there so yuh can't lost."
I thanked both women and walked off, thankful to be out from under the stare of the skinny one.
About five minutes later, I came across the corner I was told of and soon spotted a rickety old house. Its zinc roof was rusty and the windows had large gaps that were patched with pieces of wood. There was a blue plastic drum full of water outside but no sign of anyone. Surprisingly, there was a car parked not far away, but there was nobody inside it.
I walked up to the door of the house, then stood a second in silence, wondering what to do next. I gave it a knock. Silence. I knocked again. Silence.
"Miss Lecky?" I hollered. No sound. After a couple minutes more of knocking and looking around I started to curse my luck. Ticked off for having come this far without success, I walked off. But then I heard it. Though faint, I clearly heard a woman's voice inside.
"Is who dat now?" Excited, I shouted my name and said I just wanted to speak with Miss Lecky because I had heard great things about her back in Kingston.
"Kingston? But I nuh go dem places! It too chuck-up chuck-up," the woman said. I asked if she was Miss Lecky. "I am Lecky," the woman replied. I asked if she was often approached by members of the community for advice. "Well, yes, every minute. But is just because mi old dem seh mi wise," she replied. ...
Flushed with pride, eh?
Awww
Where's Max?!
*cough* *cough*
snicker snicker
Ah, chinastan!
You a friend of HG Wells' or summat?
*hic*
... When looking through some really neat groups on Flickr.com, I came across a unique profile of the name Adopt-a-bot. Brian Marshall, a middle school teacher by day, is kept busy at night as the wild and crazy orphans crawl up from the deep dark recesses of his basement. Brian has a very creative mind, using found objects or items he finds from garage sales, eBay, scrap yards etc. Some of his favorite items to use are old oil cans, aluminum measuring spoons, electrical meters, retro blenders, anodized cups, and pencil sharpeners.
If you are ever in Wilmington, Delaware, you must stop by to see the menagerie of robotic creatures at the Adopt-a-bot orphanage. For as long as he can remember, Brian has always had a passion for building things. Legos and Lincoln Logs occupied his time as a youngster, but as he grew older and his construction techniques progressed, he sought out new and unusual materials that would allow his imagination to run wild. Then, one lazy afternoon while watching movies Brian was inspired by an unusual lamp and his artistic career was born. Lamps led to clocks, small tables, chandeliers and his first attempt at robots with his Night Watchmen series. The Night Watchmen were robotic heads that lit up to scare away the evil monsters that hide under beds. Then came the day when the first robot emerged from his basement, and he knew he had found his true passion. His basement became a place where all the unwanted, used up parts from commercial enterprises and residential homes could now come to find hope. This was when Brian created the world’s first robot orphanage. Just because these parts were no longer desired for their original purpose, they refused to believe they should die an agonizing death in a big smelting pot or a landfill. So with a little help, these parts were coming together with new and unusual friends to fulfill their dreams of once again bringing joys to others. And bringing joy they are to families as far away as Hong Kong. ...
Booton & Watts
No. 12
CB Checker
Robofish
Robo Band
Marshall
Ta much, dear Edosan
If you are ever in Wilmington, Delaware, you must stop by to see the menagerie of robotic creatures at the Adopt-a-bot orphanage. For as long as he can remember, Brian has always had a passion for building things. Legos and Lincoln Logs occupied his time as a youngster, but as he grew older and his construction techniques progressed, he sought out new and unusual materials that would allow his imagination to run wild. Then, one lazy afternoon while watching movies Brian was inspired by an unusual lamp and his artistic career was born. Lamps led to clocks, small tables, chandeliers and his first attempt at robots with his Night Watchmen series. The Night Watchmen were robotic heads that lit up to scare away the evil monsters that hide under beds. Then came the day when the first robot emerged from his basement, and he knew he had found his true passion. His basement became a place where all the unwanted, used up parts from commercial enterprises and residential homes could now come to find hope. This was when Brian created the world’s first robot orphanage. Just because these parts were no longer desired for their original purpose, they refused to believe they should die an agonizing death in a big smelting pot or a landfill. So with a little help, these parts were coming together with new and unusual friends to fulfill their dreams of once again bringing joys to others. And bringing joy they are to families as far away as Hong Kong. ...
Booton & Watts
No. 12
CB Checker
Robofish
Robo Band
Marshall
Ta much, dear Edosan
Uncle Cecil and the falling cars of Cassava River
Published: Tuesday | February 23, 2010
Claplunk! The loud noise outside jolted Uncle Cecil from his sleep late one rainy Sunday night.
"Mi swear ah one ah di hog dem get weh inna di yard," said Uncle Cecil, relating the story of that night.
"But den mi seh, no, di hog couldn't so loud, so mi jump outa di bed and run outside wid mi cutlass."
As he ran outside, Uncle Cecil contemplated the different possibilities. Was he about to face a brazen band of robbers, a mule gone astray or perhaps a spurned lover hurling rocks at his roof? All these things ran through his mind but, as he opened the front door of his home and looked out, what greeted him made him angrier than he ever imagined.
"Mi seh, no sah, not again! Dis could never be happening again."
A small car had careened off the road on the hill above Uncle Cecil's house and had landed just about 10 feet from his home. The wheels of the car were still spinning even though the car was upside down. Luckily, the driver was alright, but he had to endure quite a tongue-thrashing from Uncle Cecil.
"Dat ah di third time inna two year dat one car drop pan mi house, and mi very tired ah it," said the man as we stood on the side of the road, looking down at his house in Cassava River, rural St Catherine, last week.
"Every time ah di same ting, and mi tired fi tell di people dem seh dem need fi tek time drive, or somebody need fi build a wall right here," he said. ...
Duck Billed Platypus USB Drive
by Ally - on February 19th, 2010
[The] duck billed platypus is such an under loved creature. Thankfully one seller is finally having mercy on the animal. Now you can show your platypus loving side with this handy USB drive. Sure, some people might think it’s silly to carry around a platypus USB drive, but they clearly just don’t know what they’re missing. This happy creature is perfectly content holding onto even the most dull documents that you need.
Of course it’s only half of a platypus instead of the whole thing. Instead of having back legs he just has a USB port. Which is tragic for him, but handy for you. The drive holds 4GB of the necessary items you need to store within it....
Ta much, dear Anneliese
by Ally - on February 19th, 2010
[The] duck billed platypus is such an under loved creature. Thankfully one seller is finally having mercy on the animal. Now you can show your platypus loving side with this handy USB drive. Sure, some people might think it’s silly to carry around a platypus USB drive, but they clearly just don’t know what they’re missing. This happy creature is perfectly content holding onto even the most dull documents that you need.
Of course it’s only half of a platypus instead of the whole thing. Instead of having back legs he just has a USB port. Which is tragic for him, but handy for you. The drive holds 4GB of the necessary items you need to store within it....
Ta much, dear Anneliese
I’m tired of this shit.
It’s about time that everyone learned their damn homophones. If you slept your way through the fourth grade or just skipped all of the grammar lectures because you were too busy sucking off that dude in the locker room, then maybe this table will help clear up some of the fucking confusion.
Commonly fucked up homophones.
These …are not …the fucking same.
Affect - Your horrendous grammar affects the quality of your input as an interlocutor.
Effect - Your grammar’s effects are so unspeakable that you should be prosecuted at The Hague.
*Hint: Effect is most commonly a noun; affect is most commonly a verb.
Bare - By using improper grammar, you are laying bare your ignorance.
Bear - I cannot bear this any longer: please, learn your damn homophones. ...
... Discreet - If you can’t discern the difference between homophones, then be discreet.
Discrete - There is a discrete difference between someone who knows homophones and someone who does not. ...
... Its - Bad grammar shall no longer rear its ugly head.
It’s - It’s a terrible thing to use improper grammar.
*Hint: Its can only be possessive; It’s is a contraction of ‘it’ & ‘is’.
Loose - The grammar gods shall let loose some horrible plague upon you should you choose to continue fucking up homophones.
Lose - Using bad grammar is a social stigma, which makes you lose credibility. ...
... Your - Your grammar sucks.
You’re - You’re an idiot if you fuck up homophones.
*Hint: Your can only be possessive; you’re is a contraction of ‘you’ & ‘are’....
... Please, learn your damn homophones.
You think this is obscene? Do you even read any of the stupid shit you write? That’s obscene.
Ta much, dear MSiegel
It’s about time that everyone learned their damn homophones. If you slept your way through the fourth grade or just skipped all of the grammar lectures because you were too busy sucking off that dude in the locker room, then maybe this table will help clear up some of the fucking confusion.
Commonly fucked up homophones.
These …are not …the fucking same.
Affect - Your horrendous grammar affects the quality of your input as an interlocutor.
Effect - Your grammar’s effects are so unspeakable that you should be prosecuted at The Hague.
*Hint: Effect is most commonly a noun; affect is most commonly a verb.
Bare - By using improper grammar, you are laying bare your ignorance.
Bear - I cannot bear this any longer: please, learn your damn homophones. ...
... Discreet - If you can’t discern the difference between homophones, then be discreet.
Discrete - There is a discrete difference between someone who knows homophones and someone who does not. ...
... Its - Bad grammar shall no longer rear its ugly head.
It’s - It’s a terrible thing to use improper grammar.
*Hint: Its can only be possessive; It’s is a contraction of ‘it’ & ‘is’.
Loose - The grammar gods shall let loose some horrible plague upon you should you choose to continue fucking up homophones.
Lose - Using bad grammar is a social stigma, which makes you lose credibility. ...
... Your - Your grammar sucks.
You’re - You’re an idiot if you fuck up homophones.
*Hint: Your can only be possessive; you’re is a contraction of ‘you’ & ‘are’....
... Please, learn your damn homophones.
You think this is obscene? Do you even read any of the stupid shit you write? That’s obscene.
Ta much, dear MSiegel
Ta much, dear MSiegel, and thank you. I really appreciate it. You're very kind. My gratitude knows no bounds.
How Handy!
Gosh, thanks!
Day of the Dead papercut made in San Salvador Huixcolotla, Mexico (1980s) on Flickr - Photo Sharing!
Day of the Dead papercut made in San Salvador Huixcolotla, Mexico (1980s)
I'm, uh, sorry?
Bloody quantum physics majors!
Ta much, dear MSiegel
Sitting on concrete stairs, starving - even with an epically wretched hangover - can't diminish the glory of Brunch With Bach.
... A snow day is a good time to catch up on everyone's blogs. I see this list was published at both Le Café Witteveen and the Rabid Atheist, but it's a meme worth repeating. I give you,
12 Reasons Why Gay Marriage Should Be Illegal
1. Homosexuality is not natural, much like eyeglasses, polyester, and birth control.
2. Heterosexual marriages are valid because they produce children. Infertile couples and old people can’t legally get married because the world needs more children.
3. Obviously, gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.
4. Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage is allowed, since Britney Spears’ 55-hour just-for-fun marriage was meaningful.
5. Heterosexual marriage has been around a long time and hasn’t changed at all; women are property, blacks can’t marry whites, and divorce is illegal.
6. Gay marriage should be decided by people, not the courts, because the majority-elected legislatures, not courts, have historically protected the rights of the minorities.
7. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That’s why we have only one religion in America.
8. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.
9. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.
10. Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That’s why single parents are forbidden to raise children.
11. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and we could never adapt to new social norms because we haven’t adapted to things like cars or longer life-spans.
12. Civil unions, providing most of the same benefits as marriage with a different name are better, because a “separate but equal” institution is always constitutional. Separate schools for African-Americans worked just as well as separate marriages for gays and lesbians will.
Ta much, dear Anneliese
12 Reasons Why Gay Marriage Should Be Illegal
1. Homosexuality is not natural, much like eyeglasses, polyester, and birth control.
2. Heterosexual marriages are valid because they produce children. Infertile couples and old people can’t legally get married because the world needs more children.
3. Obviously, gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.
4. Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage is allowed, since Britney Spears’ 55-hour just-for-fun marriage was meaningful.
5. Heterosexual marriage has been around a long time and hasn’t changed at all; women are property, blacks can’t marry whites, and divorce is illegal.
6. Gay marriage should be decided by people, not the courts, because the majority-elected legislatures, not courts, have historically protected the rights of the minorities.
7. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That’s why we have only one religion in America.
8. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.
9. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.
10. Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That’s why single parents are forbidden to raise children.
11. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and we could never adapt to new social norms because we haven’t adapted to things like cars or longer life-spans.
12. Civil unions, providing most of the same benefits as marriage with a different name are better, because a “separate but equal” institution is always constitutional. Separate schools for African-Americans worked just as well as separate marriages for gays and lesbians will.
Ta much, dear Anneliese
Published: Tuesday | February 9, 2010
Screech! I stepped on the brakes with great force, and lunged forward as the car came to a stop. It was late Saturday night, while travelling along Highway 2000, when I spotted her. She was a beauty standing next to a black station wagon parked by the side of the road. She had thick luxurious hair that fell just below her shoulders, was dressed in a miniskirt and slippers and had the longest legs I'd ever seen.
She was gazing down at something on her car, and I could tell from where I was that the car had a flat tyre. Now a few things floated through my mind at that point. One was that it would be nice of me to stop and lend a helping hand. I mean, it was late and the road was dark and there were only a few cars using the road at that hour. The other was that this could all have been a clever ruse, a ploy, if you will, to lure unsuspecting strangers such as myself to the assistance of this fine young woman, only to be pounced upon by a gang of goons. I spent a few seconds pondering the different possibilities, then took another glance at the belle. She gently brushed her hair from her face and in that moment I was hooked. I knew quite well that it could have been my final act of civility, but what a way to go! I pulled over to the side of the road and hopped out.
Summoning my best 'knight-in-shining-armour' voice, I asked the woman if she needed some help.
"Ahm ... well the tyre is flat and I don't know how to change it and ..." she started. I put a hand up to cut her off and told her she needed to say no more, as I was happy to lend a hand. ...
Flaring tempers sear St Andrew streets
Published: Tuesday | February 2, 2010
So I was travelling along Hagley Park Road in St Andrew the other day and had an encounter with a squeegee-wielding straggler who had me contemplating committing grievous bodily harm and running off to Mexico to lay low for a while. I mean, I'm as law-abiding as the next guy, but no jury in the world would convict me for landing a wallop right between the eyes of this hooligan.
It was a Tuesday, like any other, when I pulled up to a stoplight, as I often do. Immediately, the race was on. They appeared from every corner, shoe-less men brandishing instruments of window-washing like mini torture devices aimed at hapless motorists. The drivers had little choice but to wave frantically even as soapy water was being sprayed on otherwise clean windshields. But their waving did little to stop the unfolding debacle. The men just continued washing windshields, further angering the drivers with every turn of the wrist.
"Oy bwoy! Mi tell yuh yesterday seh mi ah ago lick yuh down if yuh touch mi cyar again!" yelled a large man in a small black car. He had stuck his head outside the vehicle and flashed his hand as he spoke.
"Just cool, Uncle, is just a food we ah look fi buy," replied the man washing the windshield of the car.
"Uncle? Mi know yuh? Nobody inna my family couldn't so ugly!" the driver quipped. ...
Published: Tuesday | February 2, 2010
So I was travelling along Hagley Park Road in St Andrew the other day and had an encounter with a squeegee-wielding straggler who had me contemplating committing grievous bodily harm and running off to Mexico to lay low for a while. I mean, I'm as law-abiding as the next guy, but no jury in the world would convict me for landing a wallop right between the eyes of this hooligan.
It was a Tuesday, like any other, when I pulled up to a stoplight, as I often do. Immediately, the race was on. They appeared from every corner, shoe-less men brandishing instruments of window-washing like mini torture devices aimed at hapless motorists. The drivers had little choice but to wave frantically even as soapy water was being sprayed on otherwise clean windshields. But their waving did little to stop the unfolding debacle. The men just continued washing windshields, further angering the drivers with every turn of the wrist.
"Oy bwoy! Mi tell yuh yesterday seh mi ah ago lick yuh down if yuh touch mi cyar again!" yelled a large man in a small black car. He had stuck his head outside the vehicle and flashed his hand as he spoke.
"Just cool, Uncle, is just a food we ah look fi buy," replied the man washing the windshield of the car.
"Uncle? Mi know yuh? Nobody inna my family couldn't so ugly!" the driver quipped. ...
Fool-proof
Location: packet of "Man Sex Fancy Soap" in Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania
Spotted by: Fred Saugman
Fanks awfully, chuck.
Top Gear's Stig prowls Loch Ness
Street View sighting of elusive motoring beastie
By Lester Haines
26th January 2010
We're obliged to all those readers who rushed to alert us that The Stig of Top Gear fame has been spotted on the shores of Loch Ness:
Of course, no one knows just who The Stig is, but what's clear is that, in common with Judge Dredd, he never takes his helmet off - a fact proved by another sighting early last year at the BBC's offices in west London:
Street View sighting of elusive motoring beastie
By Lester Haines
26th January 2010
We're obliged to all those readers who rushed to alert us that The Stig of Top Gear fame has been spotted on the shores of Loch Ness:
Of course, no one knows just who The Stig is, but what's clear is that, in common with Judge Dredd, he never takes his helmet off - a fact proved by another sighting early last year at the BBC's offices in west London:
moar funny pictures
Ta much, dear Anneliese, who's responsible for the following mini-lolpocalypse....
You can blame me for th' one above, Gentle Categorian.
Tacet
Posted in Literature, Society by Greg Ross on January 16th, 2010
When George Bernard Shaw was a music critic, he dined one evening at a restaurant with a mediocre orchestra.
Recognizing Shaw, the leader sent him a note asking what he would like them to play next.
Shaw replied, “Dominoes.”
Ta much, dear Glenn321
Posted in Literature, Society by Greg Ross on January 16th, 2010
When George Bernard Shaw was a music critic, he dined one evening at a restaurant with a mediocre orchestra.
Recognizing Shaw, the leader sent him a note asking what he would like them to play next.
Shaw replied, “Dominoes.”
Ta much, dear Glenn321
How Handy!
/me bites tongue
... Even a preposterous advertising campaign can't dent the Tories. All over London, billboards depict Cameron looking you in the eye with an expression of genteel concern, accompanied by the slogan "We can't go on like this". To the observer, the overall effect is that of a man trying to wriggle out of an unfulfilling sexual relationship without hurting your feelings. Or maybe a boss who's called you into his office for a passive-aggressive talking-to. Would you vote for that? Not normally, no. But when the opposition is a flock of startled, shrieking hens, your range of options shrinks drastically.
But perhaps there's still a glimmer of hope for Labour. I recently watched several episodes of a high-quality US comedy-drama serial called Breaking Bad. The storyline revolves around an underachieving, debt-ridden 50-year-old chemistry teacher who discovers he's got terminal cancer. But wait, it gets funnier. Realising he has absolutely nothing to lose, he decides to become a crystal meth dealer in an insane last-ditch attempt to provide financial support for his family when he's gone. Cue plenty of pitch-black hi-jinks.
It's a good show. It's also a road map for Labour. The party's condition is similarly terminal, so it might as well go for broke by announcing a series of demented and ill-advised election pledges in an openly desperate bid to retain power. Who knows? It might just work. And if it's having a hard time choosing some make-or-break policies, I'll be only too happy to provide a list. Starting now....
But perhaps there's still a glimmer of hope for Labour. I recently watched several episodes of a high-quality US comedy-drama serial called Breaking Bad. The storyline revolves around an underachieving, debt-ridden 50-year-old chemistry teacher who discovers he's got terminal cancer. But wait, it gets funnier. Realising he has absolutely nothing to lose, he decides to become a crystal meth dealer in an insane last-ditch attempt to provide financial support for his family when he's gone. Cue plenty of pitch-black hi-jinks.
It's a good show. It's also a road map for Labour. The party's condition is similarly terminal, so it might as well go for broke by announcing a series of demented and ill-advised election pledges in an openly desperate bid to retain power. Who knows? It might just work. And if it's having a hard time choosing some make-or-break policies, I'll be only too happy to provide a list. Starting now....
The secret of Xmas crackers -- pull downwards
Thu Dec 24, 2009 4:04pm GMT
LONDON (Reuters) - Debenhams department store has worked out a formula it says will make sure festive feasters are never again left holding the short end of a pulled cracker.
"Success is mainly down to the angle, grip, cracker size and 'lines of failure' or where the cracker is likely to tear," said Debenhams.
When pulled, a cracker will always rip at a weak point connecting the reinforced barrel section to the tails, the store added.
By pulling backwards and down at the same time, it is possible to concentrate the force across the top face of the opponent's line of likely failure.
The cracker should be gripped about an inch from the end of the tail closest to the barrel. The tail should be kept in line with the barrel as it is pulled backwards and downwards, with an even force.
For the serious puller, the store has worked out a mathematical formula: O = 11xC/L + 5xQ, where O is the optimum downward angle for pulling the cracker.
C stands for the circumference of the barrel, L is the barrel's length and Q is the quality of the cracker -- pricier versions are often made from stronger material which will increase the optimum angle of pull.
Q has a value of one, two or three depending on whether the cracker is cheap, standard or expensive.
Debenhams said the formula should produce a two-digit figure between 20 and 55 degrees, which is the optimum pulling angle below the horizontal.
"Don't worry, it's less complicated than it looks," it adds.
Thu Dec 24, 2009 4:04pm GMT
LONDON (Reuters) - Debenhams department store has worked out a formula it says will make sure festive feasters are never again left holding the short end of a pulled cracker.
"Success is mainly down to the angle, grip, cracker size and 'lines of failure' or where the cracker is likely to tear," said Debenhams.
When pulled, a cracker will always rip at a weak point connecting the reinforced barrel section to the tails, the store added.
By pulling backwards and down at the same time, it is possible to concentrate the force across the top face of the opponent's line of likely failure.
The cracker should be gripped about an inch from the end of the tail closest to the barrel. The tail should be kept in line with the barrel as it is pulled backwards and downwards, with an even force.
For the serious puller, the store has worked out a mathematical formula: O = 11xC/L + 5xQ, where O is the optimum downward angle for pulling the cracker.
C stands for the circumference of the barrel, L is the barrel's length and Q is the quality of the cracker -- pricier versions are often made from stronger material which will increase the optimum angle of pull.
Q has a value of one, two or three depending on whether the cracker is cheap, standard or expensive.
Debenhams said the formula should produce a two-digit figure between 20 and 55 degrees, which is the optimum pulling angle below the horizontal.
"Don't worry, it's less complicated than it looks," it adds.
⇑ 0_o OMFG o_0 ⇓
Eating almost anything on the menu in the first two images might make a cuppa 'emlock tay sound very nice.
This one's located near the Georgia/Alabama border; quel surprise, mes petits charmants!
Mr Toad is obviously a Scorpio: many of them have a desire to somehow consume things and those whom they love.
Dear Anneliese hipped me to another version of this video, and I found this one myself.
I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas
1953
I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
Don't want a doll, no dinky Tinker Toy
I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy
I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
I don't think Santa Claus will mind, do you?
He won't have to use our dirty chimney flue
Just bring him through the front door, that's the easy thing to do
I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise when I open up my eyes
To see a hippo hero standing there
I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
No crocodiles, no rhinoceroses
I only like hippopotamuses
And hippopotamuses like me too
Mom says the hippo would eat me up, but then
Teacher says a hippo is a vegetarian
There's lots of room for him in our two-car garage
I'd feed him there and wash him there and give him his massage
I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise when I open up my eyes
To see a hippo hero standing there
I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
No crocodiles or rhinoceroseses
I only like hippopotamuseses
And hippopotamuses like me too!
1953
I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
Don't want a doll, no dinky Tinker Toy
I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy
I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
I don't think Santa Claus will mind, do you?
He won't have to use our dirty chimney flue
Just bring him through the front door, that's the easy thing to do
I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise when I open up my eyes
To see a hippo hero standing there
I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
No crocodiles, no rhinoceroses
I only like hippopotamuses
And hippopotamuses like me too
Mom says the hippo would eat me up, but then
Teacher says a hippo is a vegetarian
There's lots of room for him in our two-car garage
I'd feed him there and wash him there and give him his massage
I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise when I open up my eyes
To see a hippo hero standing there
I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
No crocodiles or rhinoceroseses
I only like hippopotamuseses
And hippopotamuses like me too!
Ta much for this bit of bizarrerie, dear Edosan
... Remember the milk cartons served in the school cafeteria? This familiar icon is much more charming—and practical! Artfully made of clear glass, it blends with any table setting. Fun for gift-giving!
Ta much, dear MSiegel
Ta much, dear MSiegel
How Mr Malki! Makes A Calendar.
~ Part One of Five ~
[This fancy font free here]
A Mystery Revealed:
How Mr Malki! Makes A Calendar.
~ Part Two of Five ~
[This fancy font free here.]
A Mystery Revealed:
How Mr Malki! Makes A Calendar.
~ Part Three of Five ~
[This fancy font free here.]
A Mystery Revealed:
How Mr Malki! Makes A Calendar.
~ Part Four of Five ~
[This fancy font free here.]
How Mr Malki! Makes A Calendar.
~ Part Five and The Last ~
[This fancy font free here]
Ta much, dear Glenn321! Fair dos, sending me this surreal bit of Engrish after I'd sent him all that surreal soap.
Nancy and Sluggo's rocks are descended from the bricks in Krazy Kat, of course.
In the world of global warming very important to save all animals that live on Earth. Some companies even donate money to this target and more one way to pay attention of the peoples - to create USB drives in shape as animals. For example Panda USB drive, Elephant USB drive or USB Zoo series. Today we join new “friend“ – fun Lizard USB drive. Verily, lizard it’s not whale or other rare animal, but we must to save every bug in order to leave the beautiful World to the descendants.
WTF?!
IranTour's latest slogan:
You'll Be Affected by Our Affection
... "Had it in my head for long?" said Raffles, as we strolled through the streets towards dawn, for all the world as though we were returning from a dance. "No, Bunny, I never thought of it till I saw that upper part empty about a month ago, and bought a few things in the shop to get the lie of the land. That reminds me that I never paid for them; but, by Jove, I will tomorrow, and if that isn't poetic justice, what is? One visit showed me the possibilities of the place, but a second convinced me of its impossibilities without a pal. So I had practically given up the idea, when you came along on the very night and in the very plight for it! But here we are at the Albany, and I hope there's some fire left; for I don't know how you feel, Bunny, but for my part I'm as cold as Keats's owl."
He could think of Keats on his way from a felony! He could hanker for his fireside like another! Floodgates were loosed within me, and the plain English of our adventure rushed over me as cold as ice. Raffles was a burglar. I had helped him to commit one burglary, therefore I was a burglar, too. Yet I could stand and warm myself by his fire, and watch him empty his pockets, as though we had done nothing wonderful or wicked!
My blood froze. My heart sickened. My brain whirled. How I had liked this villain! How I had admired him! Now my liking and admiration must turn to loathing and disgust. I waited for the change. I longed to feel it in my heart. But — I longed and I waited in vain!
I saw that he was emptying his pockets; the table sparkled with their hoard. Rings by the dozen, diamonds by the score; bracelets, pendants, aigrettes, necklaces, pearls, rubies, amethysts, sapphires; and diamonds always, diamonds in everything, flashing bayonets of light, dazzling me — blinding me — making me disbelieve because I could no longer forget. Last of all came no gem, indeed, but my own revolver from an inner pocket. And that struck a chord. I suppose I said something — my hand flew out. I can see Raffles now, as he looked at me once more with a high arch over each clear eye. I can see him pick out the cartridges with his quiet, cynical smile, before he would give me my pistol back again.
"You mayn't believe it, Bunny," said he, "but I never carried a loaded one before. On the whole I think it gives one confidence. Yet it would be very awkward if anything went wrong; one might use it, and that's not the game at all, though I have often thought that the murderer who has just done the trick must have great sensations before things get too hot for him. Don't look so distressed, my dear chap. I've never had those sensations, and I don't suppose I ever shall."
"But this much you have done before?" said I hoarsely.
"Before? My dear Bunny, you offend me! Did it look like a first attempt? Of course I have done it before."
"Often?"
"Well — no! Not often enough to destroy the charm, at all events; never, as a matter of fact, unless I'm cursedly hard up. Did you hear about the Thimbleby diamonds? Well, that was the last time — and a poor lot of paste they were. Then there was the little business of the Dormer house-boat at Henley last year. That was mine also — such as it was. I've never brought off a really big coup yet; when I do I shall chuck it up."
Yes, I remembered both cases very well. To think that he was their author! It was incredible, outrageous, inconceivable. Then my eyes would fall upon the table, twinkling and glittering in a hundred places, and incredulity was at an end.
"How came you to begin?" I asked, as curiosity overcame mere wonder, and a fascination for his career gradually wove itself into my fascination for the man.
"Ah! that's a long story," said Raffles. "It was in the Colonies, when I was out there playing cricket. It's too long a story to tell you now, but I was in much the same fix that you were in tonight, and it was my only way out. I never meant it for anything more; but I'd tasted blood, and it was all over with me. Why should I work when I could steal? Why settle down to some humdrum uncongenial billet, when excitement, romance, danger and a decent living were all going begging together? Of course it's very wrong, but we can't all be moralists, and the distribution of wealth is very wrong to begin with. Besides, you're not at it all the time. I'm sick of quoting Gilbert's lines to myself, but they're profoundly true. I only wonder if you'll like the life as much as I do!"
"Like it?" I cried out. "Not I! It's no life for me. Once is enough!"
"You wouldn't give me a hand another time?"
"Don't ask me, Raffles. Don't ask me, for God's sake!"
"Yet you said you would do anything for me! You asked me to name my crime! But I knew at the time you didn't mean it; you didn't go back on me tonight, and that ought to satisfy me, goodness knows! I suppose I'm ungrateful, and unreasonable, and all that. I ought to let it end at this. But you're the very man for me, Bunny, the — very — man! Just think how we got through tonight. Not a scratch — not a hitch! There's nothing very terrible in it, you see; there never would be, while we worked together."
He was standing in front of me with a hand on either shoulder; he was smiling as he knew so well how to smile. I turned on my heel, planted my elbows on the chimney-piece, and my burning head between my hands. Next instant a still heartier hand had fallen on my back.
"All right, my boy! You are quite right and I'm worse than wrong. I'll never ask it again. Go, if you want to, and come again about mid-day for the cash. There was no bargain; but, of course, I'll get you out of your scrape — especially after the way you've stood by me tonight."
I was round again with my blood on fire.
"I'll do it again," I said, through my teeth.
He shook his head. "Not you," he said, smiling quite good-humoredly on my insane enthusiasm.
"I will," I cried with an oath. "I'll lend you a hand as often as you like! What does it matter now? I've been in it once. I'll be in it again. I've gone to the devil anyhow. I can't go back, and wouldn't if I could. Nothing matters another rap! When you want me, I'm your man!"
And that is how Raffles and I joined felonious forces on the Ides of March.
He could think of Keats on his way from a felony! He could hanker for his fireside like another! Floodgates were loosed within me, and the plain English of our adventure rushed over me as cold as ice. Raffles was a burglar. I had helped him to commit one burglary, therefore I was a burglar, too. Yet I could stand and warm myself by his fire, and watch him empty his pockets, as though we had done nothing wonderful or wicked!
My blood froze. My heart sickened. My brain whirled. How I had liked this villain! How I had admired him! Now my liking and admiration must turn to loathing and disgust. I waited for the change. I longed to feel it in my heart. But — I longed and I waited in vain!
I saw that he was emptying his pockets; the table sparkled with their hoard. Rings by the dozen, diamonds by the score; bracelets, pendants, aigrettes, necklaces, pearls, rubies, amethysts, sapphires; and diamonds always, diamonds in everything, flashing bayonets of light, dazzling me — blinding me — making me disbelieve because I could no longer forget. Last of all came no gem, indeed, but my own revolver from an inner pocket. And that struck a chord. I suppose I said something — my hand flew out. I can see Raffles now, as he looked at me once more with a high arch over each clear eye. I can see him pick out the cartridges with his quiet, cynical smile, before he would give me my pistol back again.
"You mayn't believe it, Bunny," said he, "but I never carried a loaded one before. On the whole I think it gives one confidence. Yet it would be very awkward if anything went wrong; one might use it, and that's not the game at all, though I have often thought that the murderer who has just done the trick must have great sensations before things get too hot for him. Don't look so distressed, my dear chap. I've never had those sensations, and I don't suppose I ever shall."
"But this much you have done before?" said I hoarsely.
"Before? My dear Bunny, you offend me! Did it look like a first attempt? Of course I have done it before."
"Often?"
"Well — no! Not often enough to destroy the charm, at all events; never, as a matter of fact, unless I'm cursedly hard up. Did you hear about the Thimbleby diamonds? Well, that was the last time — and a poor lot of paste they were. Then there was the little business of the Dormer house-boat at Henley last year. That was mine also — such as it was. I've never brought off a really big coup yet; when I do I shall chuck it up."
Yes, I remembered both cases very well. To think that he was their author! It was incredible, outrageous, inconceivable. Then my eyes would fall upon the table, twinkling and glittering in a hundred places, and incredulity was at an end.
"How came you to begin?" I asked, as curiosity overcame mere wonder, and a fascination for his career gradually wove itself into my fascination for the man.
"Ah! that's a long story," said Raffles. "It was in the Colonies, when I was out there playing cricket. It's too long a story to tell you now, but I was in much the same fix that you were in tonight, and it was my only way out. I never meant it for anything more; but I'd tasted blood, and it was all over with me. Why should I work when I could steal? Why settle down to some humdrum uncongenial billet, when excitement, romance, danger and a decent living were all going begging together? Of course it's very wrong, but we can't all be moralists, and the distribution of wealth is very wrong to begin with. Besides, you're not at it all the time. I'm sick of quoting Gilbert's lines to myself, but they're profoundly true. I only wonder if you'll like the life as much as I do!"
"Like it?" I cried out. "Not I! It's no life for me. Once is enough!"
"You wouldn't give me a hand another time?"
"Don't ask me, Raffles. Don't ask me, for God's sake!"
"Yet you said you would do anything for me! You asked me to name my crime! But I knew at the time you didn't mean it; you didn't go back on me tonight, and that ought to satisfy me, goodness knows! I suppose I'm ungrateful, and unreasonable, and all that. I ought to let it end at this. But you're the very man for me, Bunny, the — very — man! Just think how we got through tonight. Not a scratch — not a hitch! There's nothing very terrible in it, you see; there never would be, while we worked together."
He was standing in front of me with a hand on either shoulder; he was smiling as he knew so well how to smile. I turned on my heel, planted my elbows on the chimney-piece, and my burning head between my hands. Next instant a still heartier hand had fallen on my back.
"All right, my boy! You are quite right and I'm worse than wrong. I'll never ask it again. Go, if you want to, and come again about mid-day for the cash. There was no bargain; but, of course, I'll get you out of your scrape — especially after the way you've stood by me tonight."
I was round again with my blood on fire.
"I'll do it again," I said, through my teeth.
He shook his head. "Not you," he said, smiling quite good-humoredly on my insane enthusiasm.
"I will," I cried with an oath. "I'll lend you a hand as often as you like! What does it matter now? I've been in it once. I'll be in it again. I've gone to the devil anyhow. I can't go back, and wouldn't if I could. Nothing matters another rap! When you want me, I'm your man!"
And that is how Raffles and I joined felonious forces on the Ides of March.
High quality dogness - ta much, dear Edosan
Malki!'s wife Nikki made this. :)
