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My groat. Let me show you it.

charles ii maundy groat

This is my groat. There are many groats like it, but this one is mine.

how big is my groat?

My groat came up in conversation here last week, so I figured I’d give you a peep at it. This is my groat. Specifically, it is a Maundy groat of Charles II. The obverse says CAROLUS II DEI GRATIA and the reverse says MAG BR FRA ET HIB REX. Which means “Hix Nix Stix Pix.” Heh heh. Jes’ kidding. The real translation is: “HEY CROMWELL, how does my ass taste?”

A groat is a little silver coin worth four English pennies, also called a fourpence. The first was minted in the 13th Century and the last (for actual circulation — more on that in a moment) in 1888. The date on this one is 1679, but it wasn’t necessarily made in that year. They weren’t all that fastidious about minting coins every year, or changing the dies when they did. Early in Charles II’s reign, they were still producing most coins by hammering, but they switched to milling in his lifetime. This is a milled coin.

the archbishop of canterbury scrubs toeThe Maundy ceremony, confusingly, happens on Thursday. Specifically, the Thursday before Easter. “Maundy” is a corruption of Mandatum Nuvum — the ‘new commandment’ to love one another and, umm…wash feet. British monarchs have observed some sort of Maundy ritual since 600AD — which sometimes included foot washing, but nearly always involved giving silver coins to the poor. The coins were known as Maundy money.

Regular old coins were used at first, but beginning with Charles II, special coins were minted, in sets of four: 1p, 2p, 3p and 4p. And still are. Despite decimalization (in 1971, Britain utterly fucked its wonderful but brain-hurty old currency scheme and lost many a beautiful coin) Maundy money is still legal tender.

Today, the Queen gives out Maundy money to worthy old persons, as many old coots as she is years old. The foot-washin’ part was quietly dropped centuries ago, until the current Archbishop of Canterbury — a very strange man — revived the custom in 2003.

Because it is a Maundy coin, Charles II his own self may have handled this groat. But probably not. And now you can tell all your friends, “I have seen Weasel’s groat.”

sock it to me

Comments


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 10:15 am

Could a counterfeit groat be accurately said to be groatesque?

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 10:19 am

The real translation is: “HEY CROMWELL, how does my ass taste?”

I snorted at this, BTW, which amused my cow orkers to no end.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 27, 2008, 10:27 am

Groat.

It sounds like some unlikely germinating grain or a grass of some kind – like Rye or Fescue. “Eat your groats, son.”

Something that tastes of aged cardboard with a dash of stale wee.

Of course, my favorite (Escudo) sounds like either a disease or a bodily function.

– and I too snorted at your outstanding Latin translation, Weaz!

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 10:45 am

Well, a groat is also a milled oat, so your interpretatin is boringly accurate, McGoo.

It’s worth pointing out that the center structure of Badger House was almost a hundred years old when this coin was minted.

Heh. I’ve taken to doing that. Measuring things in HowOldIsBadgerHouse. It’s really annoying to my friends in New England, where we keep America’s oldest stuff.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 10:53 am

Oh, dear. From the link above:

Groaty pudding, also known as Groaty Dick, is a traditional dish from the Black Country in England. It is made from soaked groats, leeks, onions, beef and beef stock which is baked at 150 degrees Celsius for up to 16 hours. Groaty pudding is a traditional meal on Guy Fawkes Night.

Groaty dick.

Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

Ummm…Uncle B?

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 10:54 am

aaaaaaaaaahahahahahahaha

GUY FAWKES GROATY DICK

FILM AT 11

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 10:55 am

Wow. Leeks and onions. I bet that gives you wicked groaty dick breath.

Ahhhhhhhahahahahaha!

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 10:56 am

wicked groaty dick breath.

groaty to the MAX!

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 10:56 am

Okay, I’m doing that semi-silent wheezy uncontrollable Muttly laugh thing at my desk. I’m going to lose control of my bladder at this rate…

 


Comment from Scott
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:01 am

And now you can tell all your friends, “I have seen Weasel’s groat.”

You know, I have long wished to be able to tell people this, and now that I can…

Well, it’s true what they say… The having is not as great as the wanting…

I’d just not expected it to look so… So darned old

 


Comment from Scott
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:04 am

wicked groaty dick breath.

If nothing else, that should impart all new reasons for regular teeth-brushing…

Though the idea of Uncle B having “wicked groaty dick breath” is disturbing, to say the least…

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:06 am

I hope groaty dick doesn’t have anything to do with that article Uncle Badger emailed you Saturday. 🙁

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:10 am

Add raisins for groaty spotted dick.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:11 am

No, I’m pretty sure Uncle B has never had groaty dick. He’s from the South.

“The Black Country is a loosely defined area of the English West Midlands conurbation, to the north and west of Birmingham, and to the south and east of Wolverhampton, around the South Staffordshire coalfield.”

Now, SPOTTED dick is a different thing entirely. But that’s a dessert dick, so it doesn’t…

…oh, god, I can’t go on…

 


Comment from Gnus
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:13 am

Tiny Tim is said to have been very fond of groats for his breakfast.

So, if a coin worth two pennies is a tuppence, is a groat also a fuppence?

 


Comment from steve
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:14 am

A big steaming heap of hot buttered groat clusters!

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:15 am

Hand me my entrenching tool!

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:17 am

hot buttered groat clusters!

groat balls of fire!

 


Comment from Allen
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:22 am

Weasel, I think Uncle B might be waiting for you to actually get there before the whole Britness is presented to you. Captive audience so to speak.

Don’t worry, it will soon become quaint. 🙂

 


Comment from Scott
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:22 am

And here I thought “groat” was that stuff in between kitchen tiles… 🙂

 


Comment from steve
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:26 am

And here I thought “groat” was that stuff in between kitchen tiles…

It can be!

 


Comment from Jill
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:34 am

“Where’s that son of yours, Evelyn?”

“He’s upstairs, helping Porcelain make the beds.”

 


Comment from Jill
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:35 am

This REALLY gets my groat.

Sorry – that was baa-aa-aad.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:36 am

The company cafeteria is going for a theme week this week. Monday is Native American Day. Tuesday is Oktoberfest. Wednesday is…I can’t quite work it out. Things seeme to be named for US States. Thursday is Colonial Day and Friday, of course, is Hallowe’en.

See the connection? ME NEITHER!

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:37 am

Oh! Hahaha! One of the available veggies today is redskin potatoes.

I guess that answers the question, “do any native Americans work at this company?”

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:42 am

I bet groat was originally that stuff that collects between the toes of the Nobleborne.

Hence the washing of the feet! Kinda de-groatifying. An act of degroatification.

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:43 am

I guess that answers the question, “do any native Americans work at this company?”

Tomorrow: lebensraum-en noodles and vichyssoisse.

 


Comment from Jill
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:45 am

Or more importantly, ‘does anyone care if any Native Americans work here?’

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:55 am

Wednesday is Americana, says the woman who sits next to me and just went down for lunch. So: no sense there, then!

I forgot my ID today. This is always a miserable experience, because there’s a security door between me and the cafeteria…and the bathroom! So when I was kind of losing it over “groaty dick breath” this morning, I turned to TWWSNTM and said, “can I pee on your ID?” And then completely lost it.

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 12:02 pm

can I pee on your ID?

The ghost of Freud just shat a solid gold groat.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 27, 2008, 12:04 pm

Gak. I used to hate that when I forgot my ID badge. You end up walking around all day with a big T-lettered temporary badge that just shouts, “I’m a forgetful doofus!”

Why isn’t TWWSNTY out sick? She’s always supposed to be out sick.

 


Comment from Scubafreak
Time: October 27, 2008, 12:31 pm

“Now, SPOTTED dick is a different thing entirely. But that’s a dessert dick, so it doesn’t…

…oh, god, I can’t go on…”

Thats OK, stoatie. Wait until he feeds you Bangers and Mash, which is basically Phallic-shaped sausages in a creamy white……… um…….. Forget I said anything…..

😉

 


Comment from Scott
Time: October 27, 2008, 12:50 pm

I am beginning to suspect that all British food is in some way based around sexual innuendo…

 


Comment from Allen
Time: October 27, 2008, 12:55 pm

What’s for breakfast?

Bloaters and groats. Or, you can have kippers and beans with an egg. British cuisine, ahhh.

When I was attached to the Green Jackets it was a culinary adventure.

 


Comment from bad cat robot
Time: October 27, 2008, 12:56 pm

Food designed around sexual innuendo would be preferable to having to believe they *wanted* it to taste like it does. I still shudder at the memory of something, if I recall correctly, called gayla pie. Featuring a whole boiled egg in the center, mine still had its shell on. for the fiber, one supposes.

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 12:58 pm

I am beginning to suspect that all British food is in some way based around sexual innuendo…

e.g. “bangers”

 


Comment from Scubafreak
Time: October 27, 2008, 1:21 pm

Hmm, what would be the connotation of “Bubble and Squeak”, I wonder…….

 


Comment from Uncle Badger
Time: October 27, 2008, 1:26 pm

Mmm.. kippers, beans and an egg – sounds good to me! 🙂

High protein, lots of gas…

 


Comment from Scott
Time: October 27, 2008, 1:27 pm

I refuse to contemplate further upon that idea.

 


Comment from steve
Time: October 27, 2008, 1:30 pm

TWWSNTY

?

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 27, 2008, 1:33 pm

The Woman Who Sits Next To YOU

The early Von Braun rocketry experiments were rumoured to have been powered with kippers, beans and an egg.

…or, was that a dream?

 


Comment from Scubafreak
Time: October 27, 2008, 1:40 pm

Gives a whole new meaning to the song “Rocketman”, doesn’t it, McGoo?

 


Comment from Jill
Time: October 27, 2008, 1:47 pm

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bWe1KvHzVx4

🙂

 


Comment from Scubafreak
Time: October 27, 2008, 1:55 pm

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOrT0X8i8zI

😉

 


Comment from Allen
Time: October 27, 2008, 2:48 pm

I’m wondering Uncle B, does her Ladyship really understand what will happen when she gets totally immersed in England?

Speaking of which, a bit of doggerel I remember from the way back “… but we’re the Palace Boot Boys, and we’re running after you.”

I suppose the quality of hooligans might be on the decline these days.

 


Comment from Scott
Time: October 27, 2008, 3:20 pm

I suppose the quality of hooligans might be on the decline these days.

I blame those acursed chavs…

 


Comment from Jill
Time: October 27, 2008, 3:27 pm

Allen – Dave Clark 5? “Catch Us If You Can”?

Sorry – I was having a dj/music trivia moment.

 


Comment from Allen
Time: October 27, 2008, 3:56 pm

Jill, no. It was the song sung by some of the Crystal Palace Soccer Team fans. The Palace Boot Boys were kind of like the guys in A Clockwork Orange. Wearing the colors of the opposing team often got painful.

 


Comment from Jill
Time: October 27, 2008, 4:02 pm

Yeowch!

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 4:10 pm

Here’s the thing about being a drinker and using a tabbed browser: I come home in the evening, and I have a whole stack of web pages I don’t remember and can’t work out how I got to.

Like, why the sam hill (begging McGoo’s pardon) did I have a page for cholera open right next to the Semi-Official Small Wonder Home Page?

At least I know I had the seating chart of Air Canada Flight 797 up because I was listening to Stan Rogers last night. Poor bastard is one of the black X’s. Not sure which, though.

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 4:28 pm

Oh my.

Any car freaks here?

If so…this is not to be missed. I laughed, I cried, I hurled.

 


Comment from William of Orange
Time: October 27, 2008, 4:39 pm

Hey, Chucky the Deuce?

When Cromwell’s done munching on yours, you can start munching on mine, you creepy effete little closet papist.

Enjoy your French exile.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 4:49 pm

Eh, you’re just cheesed because nothing rhymes with Orange.

Okay, this is pretty funny, even if it is the opposition. Click or mouseover pretty much everything at least once.

 


Pingback from Stoats ‘n’ groats | Cold Fury
Time: October 27, 2008, 4:52 pm

[…] It’s interesting stuff, actually. But you already know the main reason I wanted to link it was to use that title. Category: Heh &#9830 &#9830 […]

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 4:57 pm

Heh heh. Keep clicking the door on the left until you get an adorable fluffy animal. Then click on it.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 27, 2008, 5:00 pm

Oh, I like that, Stoaty!

Why were those heads filed like that, apotheosis?

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 5:00 pm

That blowed up REAL GOOD, yeehaw!

F5 *BANG* F5 *BANG* F5 *BANG* etc.

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 5:04 pm

Why were those heads filed like that, apotheosis?

I’ve been trying to figure that myself, as have many others in that thread. Best I’ve been able to determine, the gent thinks that’ll “deliver the mixture faster” or some such.

I think it’s a stab at forcing vortices to better homogenize the air/fuel mix prior to ignition, but…I can’t see any rhyme or reason to it, or figure out why if that was the case most tuners go out of their way to get the combustion chambers glass-smooth.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 27, 2008, 5:08 pm

Glass smooth (or fine pebbly) was my perception (albeit ancient) as to “best practices” on high-power engines.

My first thought when I saw them was “sensor cable grooves” for some kind of sensor they were going to put in there. But that is obviously wrong…

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 5:12 pm

Oh, and don’t stop reading till you witness the sheer genius of the Frankenstein clutch plate.

You’ll know it when you see it. O_O

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 5:56 pm

related, probably.

…huh.

 


Comment from Dave in Texas
Time: October 27, 2008, 7:24 pm

HEY CROMWELL, how does my ass taste?

That is the funniest fuckin thing I have read in ages!!! BAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAA!

ohshit.

damn.

No lie, I asked about the marker, I forget the dates, where his bones were interred in Westminster, for only 3 years. I didn’t get it. (I’m a Texan). The guide explained that (if they were in fact his remains, some question on that), whatever was there was dug up, “executed”, and hung up on the wall.

Gotta love it. Killin a dead man to make a point.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 7:34 pm

Oh, yes. And Cromwell’s head had all kinds of adventures after they hanged his dead body.

Apparently, he had a honkin’ big wart on his brow that helped ID the bonce in question.

 


Comment from Allen
Time: October 27, 2008, 7:46 pm

What I want to know is what happened to the Weasel paw? Or, is it’s missingness similar to Oliver’s head?

Hmm, come to think of it a weasel paw would be a powerful talisman. Beats any old rabbit’s foot.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 27, 2008, 7:54 pm

Weasel paw…? Oh! The sidebar graphic? I try to swap them out every few months. Weasel paw was one of my least favorites…it was on the drawing board when I got an Ace-o-lanche or something and decided to release it not entirely finished. I wasn’t happy with the weaselfingers.

C’mon…the pile o’ hands is hilarious. I love that one. Right. Um…right?

Right?

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 7:57 pm

“Wanna rassle” is still my personal fave.

 


Comment from Allen
Time: October 27, 2008, 8:01 pm

Are they dead hands? They looked so lively just above. Was there a handemic?

 


Comment from Mrs. Peel
Time: October 27, 2008, 9:46 pm

Well, now I feel apprehensive about commenting. I mean, what if my comment isn’t good? The pressure…the pressure!

*rocks back and forth in the corner muttering to self and whimpering*

 


Comment from porknbean
Time: October 27, 2008, 10:28 pm

The pointy hands are good. The pile o’ hands….are sort of creepy. Reminds me of the picture I saw of a boy in the ME somewheres – taliban infested area or Yemen or some such creepy place – carrying a bunch of bodiless hands around…like he went fishing.

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 27, 2008, 11:22 pm

Since Weas brought it up, I dug out Doom 2 and played it some tonight.

Has there ever been any sound, in any game weapon, as cool as that double-barreled shotgun?

 


Comment from Enas Yorl
Time: October 28, 2008, 1:26 am

The Pile O’ Hands is perfect. Pythonesque even. I LMAO’d.

 


Comment from porknbean
Time: October 28, 2008, 2:43 am

Rowan Williams spikes my creep-o-meter to high.

 


Comment from Nicole
Time: October 28, 2008, 7:53 am

Pile O’ Hands reminds me of the Addams Family. I see a pile of exhausted Things. 🙂 1

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 28, 2008, 9:03 am

They’re all my hand, too. If you look at the wrist of the pointer in the upper right, you’ll see my poison ivy scar.

From the Sometimes Google Freaks Me Out file, I decided to Google the name of the old lady who took care of me when I was a wee slip of a weasel. First result is a woman of the same name who owns a septic pumping company in Wasilla, Alaska.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 28, 2008, 9:42 am

They’re all my RIGHT hand, even. Just reversed as needed for left hands.

I can get myself in trouble doing that. I once did a series of watercolor paintings for a breastfeeding tutorial (yes, really. Freelance job) and didn’t notice that in some of the closeups, I had given the nursing mother two left hands.

The creepiest part of that job? Actually, the creepiest part was the client demonstrating some things to me by grabbing her enormous, pendulous hooter through her sweater and waving it around.

The second creepiest was the cutaway illustration I had to do. A cutaway of a baby. On a cutaway hooter.

Brrrrrr.

 


Comment from dfbaskwill
Time: October 28, 2008, 9:46 am

“I have seen Weasel’s groat.” I consider this among my best accomplishments.

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 28, 2008, 9:47 am

“Cutaway hooter” sounds like one of those weird made-up Appalachian location names, like “booger holler” or “pecker cuss.”

Y’all git on up to cutaway hooter and mind the still, damn revnooers.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 28, 2008, 9:55 am

…or a “local” character, Apo.

“Who? Dat guy? Aww, thas jes’ Cutaway Hooter. He’s a harmless ol’ fart, but a bit daft since he dropped the sawmill wheel on his haid back in ’78.”

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 28, 2008, 10:04 am

…or a “local” character, Apo.

Ooo, even better.

“Y’all seen Cutaway Hooter t’day?”

“Yea, I reckon him’n Snotty Joe went frog giggin’ up at Weasel Groat”

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 28, 2008, 10:07 am

LOL!

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 28, 2008, 10:09 am

Yeah, yeah…show you a picture of a cutaway ‘nad and I bet you’d blanch and put your knees together right quick.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 28, 2008, 10:11 am

Uncle B just called me up all excited. He was driving away from Badger House, and a weasel ran across the road. Definitely a weasel, not a stoat (they tend not to have overlapping territories).

He claims he missed it.

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 28, 2008, 10:17 am

show you a picture of a cutaway ‘nad and I bet you’d blanch and put your knees together right quick.

“Dude…what’s that?”

“I dunno, baked potato maybe. Hey yeah, dude, Outback for lunch!”

“SCORE!”

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 28, 2008, 10:21 am

Stoaty, have him put Covington out there with a burlap bag and some runnybabbits for bait and he can catch it!

Is it getting cold in the land of Brits? There was frost on the roof here in S. MO this morning.

Cutaway ‘Nad? Must be another local character. Like Mucus Miller.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 28, 2008, 10:32 am

It is getting cold there — unusually for this time of year. It’s not far off what I’m having in RI at the moment (also unseasonably cold).

In general, though, the climate there is more temperate. It rarely dips below freezing or climbs above, say, 85. And it is, in fact, gray a lot (but I love that. I don’t have to feel guilty that I’m not out playing in the sunshine).

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 28, 2008, 10:47 am

I’d always assumed England was mostly overcast. It’ll make the occasional sunburst all the more pleasant for you two.

Gotta love that GW, eh?

I want it to stay warm for one more week, so I can finish the garage in comfort. Then it can go all antarctic if it wants.

 


Comment from Dave in Texas
Time: October 28, 2008, 11:16 am

It was 35 here this morning, and won’t make it past 64, although sunny and clear. A little odd for central Texas, but then Halloween is always a crap shoot. I’ve taken the kids out in shorts and a t, and I’ve taken them out with an umbrella for freezing drizzle (a long time ago)

Speaking of which, there’s thunder in the distance. The boys at Ft. Hood are practicing with the big toys this week.

It’s exciting!

(oh, also, the pile of hands kinda creeps me out. But I had sorta grown attached to the “DO’AN GO” thingy)

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 28, 2008, 11:17 am

I kinda thought of England as being this land of perpetual twilight where gas lamps fell in pools of muddy illumination on moist cobblestone streets, where men in black longcoats and stovepipe hats went about their business and heavily-rouged harlots in bodices and frilly dresses plied their trades from the shadowed doorways of raucous taverns.

All in all, a very “Jack the Ripper” sort of place.

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 28, 2008, 11:19 am

On afterthought maybe that was just London.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 28, 2008, 11:29 am

Yep, Dave. I used to live in Dallas. Halloween was always iffy, just as you say. Ditto on the morning temperature here.

The “DO’AN GO” and the “Wanna wrestle?” (with that gorgeous steely-eyed Weasel!) are my favorites. But the Pile O’ Hands – – they’re growin’ on me. They are definitely creepy. Just the way we likes it, yes we does, yes we does.

Well spaken, Apo.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 28, 2008, 12:13 pm

Sadly, the Whitechapel District was heavily bombed during the war; not much of Jack’s old haunts left. They do a Jack the Ripper tour of the city, but I’ve never been tempted.

Holy SHIT I put too much wasabi on that last…whatever that sushi thing was. My gums are throbbing.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 28, 2008, 12:28 pm

I’d read that there is pretty much nothing left of the ‘areas of interest’ in Whitechapel. Pity. I’m sure the tour would be a bit cheesy.

 


Comment from Dave in Texas
Time: October 28, 2008, 4:24 pm

I actually did that Jack t Ripper pub crawl years ago.

It was pretty fun. But yeah, most of the actual sites got blowed up.

I also give myself too much credit for the “Yeah, I’m a girl. Wanna wrassle?” image. When I met Stoatysweets I think I said something dumb like “holy shit, you’re a chick?!?”

Swank and suave, that’s Dave.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 28, 2008, 5:16 pm

Now, now, Dave — I spelled it correctly: rassle. And I might have had yer suavitude in mind.

 


Comment from jwpaine
Time: October 28, 2008, 10:16 pm

Speaking of groaty dick, you all are aware that every reference to washing feet in the bible is actually an reference about washing genitals, right?

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 28, 2008, 10:46 pm

Whoa. So Mary Maggie washed Jesus’ winky?

Whoa.

 


Comment from jwpaine
Time: October 28, 2008, 11:07 pm

Um, yeah.

 


Comment from steve
Time: October 29, 2008, 8:28 am

The night was hot, wait no, the night, the night was humid. The night was humid, no wait, hot, hot. The night was hot. The night was hot and wet, wet and hot. The night was wet and hot, hot and wet, wet and hot; that’s humid. The night was humid. The night was dry, yet it was raining.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 29, 2008, 8:53 am

Where’d you come up with that, JW? Don’t they talk about sandals and dust and stuff in the same context?

Wouldn’t that make the whole Last Supper thing kind of…ick?

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 29, 2008, 9:34 am

Who cares, Stoaty! The imagery! Consider the imagery!

Besides, if you’re wearing one of those robe-y things they wore way back then, you’d get dust and grit on…um…it…anyway.

Hell, mine and Badgers would drag on … no, wait. TMI.

The sandals…not so much. maybe it’s literary license on the Bible writers’ part?

Hell, maybe Mary didn’t wash it – maybe she polished it. It’s an historically common act.

Maybe I should shut up. Good idea!

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 29, 2008, 9:45 am

So what was handwashing a metaphor for?

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 29, 2008, 12:02 pm

*spewed coffee*

*Apotheosis goes on no-fluids-while-reading list*

 


Comment from Jill
Time: October 29, 2008, 1:43 pm

Apo, refusal to accept guilt/blame. Hence the expression ‘I wash my hands of _____’.

 


Comment from apotheosis
Time: October 29, 2008, 1:51 pm

refusal to accept guilt/blame.

I think it’s a metaphor for washing a hoo-hoo.

 

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