Cartoonist I just discovered. Actually, I liked this panel best. It’s arty. Doesn’t work well small and in black and white, though.
I don’t know much about this guy. He’s British, probably. He’s a libertarian, I think. He got into a Twitter duel with @notch (the guy who sold Minecraft to Microsoft for $1B) and briefly drove him off the internet.
You know, I was going to post a disclaimer about how I didn’t agree with him on everything. Then I realized it was a pure conditioned response because some of his comics are about race. I wouldn’t feel moved to disavow him if we disagreed about economics or feminism or history. Just race. And that made me angry, so I didn’t.
Happy MLK Day!
January 16, 2017 — 6:57 pm
This is Amber Rudd, our current Home Secretary and MP for nearby Hastings and Rye, getting her heel stuck in the sidewalk while waving to reporters. One of Cameron’s Cuties.
It would be a bit of self-aggrandizing to say we’ve had dealings with her, but we’ve kind of had dealings with her and she’s not Uncle B’s favorite person.
I have a confession to make: I made it all the way through this presidential election without listening to a Donald Trump press conference, other than stray clips.
But I simply could not pass up the opportunity to hear for my own self how he describes Buzzfeed as “a failing pile of garbage” and the BBC (THE BBC!) “BBC? That’s another beauty.” I expected him to be pretty cringey. I was wrong.
It was glorious.
Here’s the C-span straight version, untouched by the hands of fake news.
Himself talks from 6:49 to 24:52, then there’s this boring lady for fifteen minutes, then him again from 39:45 to 1:02. The media bits are in the second sequence. He sucks up to the NY Times a lot for being good boys and not running the bogus story (classic behavior modification) and refuses a question from CNN because they’re “fake news.”
Go on, treat yourself.
January 11, 2017 — 8:54 pm
I’m using Uncle B’s new bread machine to make pizza dough. You may recall that I was once a Pizza Professional. Poncey Sicilian pizza restaurant in the early Eighties — the kind that pioneered vegetarian pizzas with brocolli and carrots. That sort of thing.
The raisins, they puffed up like engorged ticks.
But we made really good meat lover’s pizzas, too.
The only component we didn’t make in-house was the dough; we bought it raw from a local bakery and kept it frozen. We then thawed, shaped and baked the pizza bases in-house. I was upset when I discovered they don’t sell raw bread dough in the UK. Dunno why.
Anyway, this thing has a 45-minute pizza dough cycle that makes what seems exactly like what I used to work with. We shall see. It’s proofing now.
Bonus: according to sources, kids these days call pizza “za”. I have never heard anyone say “za” — except me, obviously — but that little two-letter word has gotten me out of several tight Scrabble dilemmas. You’re welcome.
January 10, 2017 — 10:12 pm
I love this old picture so much. And I love watching Obama commit all sorts of counterproductive, futile and petulant bullshit on his way out. There’s a reason presidents traditionally lay low for their last couple of months, chum.
I was supposed to go to work this morning. The alarm went off and I just stared at it a while and went back to sleep. I am blessed to have that kind of job.
Back here tomorrow for the Dead Pool, and 2016’s last few thrilling hours!
December 29, 2016 — 9:49 pm
Well, I’ve had fun. I hope you’ve had fun. Bitch makes so many goofy faces, I could do this for the rest of my life.
But I won’t. I promise.
Meet you back here next week for Xmas Countdown…! Good weekend, y’all!
December 16, 2016 — 9:48 pm
Once again, the big version required no Photoshopping at all. The picture was knicked from this article in Politico. I recommend it. It’s schadenfreudelicious!
We went to the office Christmas party tonight. Read: room full of elderly academics drinking wine and reading poetry aloud. It was a strange and wonderful thing.
December 15, 2016 — 10:58 pm
I did a little P’shop on this one. Believe it or don’t, the first two this week were not ‘shopped in any way.
She is just. That. Haggard.
December 14, 2016 — 9:12 pm
Contrary to some of my cherished commenters, I’m confident in saying this woman will never, ever be president. Any chicanery big enough to put her in office would probably result in a civil war.
It’s like when people ask me if I’m comfortable taking dual citizenship. And the answer is — I realize it’s possible the US and the UK would go to war with each other and I might have to make an unpleasant choice, but the conditions necessary to make that happen within my lifetime would be so catastrophic and huge that I probably wouldn’t survive them anyway.
There, now. I’d better get busy. I brought some work home with me, and it’s not even fun work — it’s proofreading an Honour Roll of the local WWI dead. The most horrible of horrible wars, I hate everything about that one.
December 13, 2016 — 8:42 pm
When I went picture shopping, the caption to the Obama image was like “The President sheds a tear over…” and I didn’t even click the link to find out “over what.” I had a frisson of delight thinking — oh, I know. President Trump will let us down in a thousand ways — but it will surely be a long, long time before we see a president boo-hoo in public over anything again.
I haven’t forgotten — Leaky George Bush started it. And let’s not think about John Boehner.
Hope your turkey was de-lightful. Ours isn’t done yet — we do Thanksgiving as a midnight meal. With champagne. It’s a tradition. Hey, you move to a foreign country, you get to make all this ancient traditional shit up.
That’s a few hours yet, so I’m just boiling the sweet patooties (preparatory to candying) and pre-soaking the dressing. In butter. Last of the imported Pepperidge Farm. Man, I love this holiday.
p.s. We are totally stoked — we just heard a real, live owl going HOO HOO HOOOOOO in the back garden!
p.p.s. Oh, yeah – and I arrived in the UK for keeps Thanksgiving 2008. Eight years of limey goodness. T’day was the 27th that year — the 24th, the movers came and sucked all my worldly goods out the front door. May I never witness such a thing again!
November 24, 2016 — 9:03 pm
Did I ever tell you my spider story? I was a kid, watching the tube with my mother, when a big fat spider skittered across the wood floor in the blue light of the TV. We were both arachnophobes (I caught it off her, probably). So I bravely grabbed a can of Coke and smished it.
And five hundred tiny baby spiders came boiling out in all directions.
November 22, 2016 — 7:55 pm