Oh. OH! Can I have a meme? I swear I’ll take care of it. I’ll feed it and take it for walks. Just this once, pleeeease?
It seems someone used the microwave to warm up people shit in Brighton (it’s hard to beat the headline Poo Found in Brighton Council Microwave).
The council being the council, they wrapped the appliance in crime scene tape and stuck a note to it. And left it there for a week.
An update sent round to all members of staff, titled Workforce Update 28, said: “The microwave in the canteen has unfortunately been used to heat excrement and cannot be made hygienic or safe to use.
“Please do not use. We will have it disconnected and removed.
“This kind of behaviour is totally unacceptable and we will not be replacing the microwave.”
Staff has taken to referring to the whole incident as Workforce Update 28. Which is the meme I want. It’s my meme, and I want it.
Unfortunately, I haven’t pinned down the situation where this phrase would be appropriate. Which of life’s many vicissitudes corresponds to “someone has heated a bowl of shit in the communal microwave”?
July 31, 2012 — 9:53 pm
I’m such an intellectual lightweight. Y’all realize that, right?
I mean, you take Michael Ramirez. Not only is he an awesome illustrator, but he comes up with these brilliant picture ideas and, like, metaphors and analogies and stuff.
Me, I see the latest Newsweek cover and I say to myself, “right! Now I’m totally going to draw your guy wearing a tutu! Ha!”
Still, I suppose there’s a place at the table for a poo-flinging monkey.
There. See? Terrible picture idea.
July 30, 2012 — 10:31 pm
And so another week ends in kittens.
When he grows up, though, this little fucker would happily eat your liver with a good chianti and fava beans, hold the chianti and fava beans.
I’ve posted about Scottish wildcats before — body of a housecat, soul of a chainsaw-wielding escaped mental patient on a bad hair day. They start off cute, but harden into red-hot fists of burning man hatred by the time they reach adulthood.
A genuine wild beast — sadly, they are close enough to housecats to interbreed, which is proving to be their downfall. Estimates are, there may be as few as 400 purebred wildcats running free. In fact, though, there may be as few as zero purebreds in the wild.
So they’ve developed a new DNA test to identify the pure of gene. They hope to have it ready by Christmas. I’m not clear on what is new or unique about this test, but good luck to them trapping and bloodtesting all those psychomoggies.
I hope they laid in a stock of bandaids.
Good weekend, all. No, we are not watching the opening ceremonies.
July 27, 2012 — 10:30 pm
We’ve lost Ric Locke (or so I’m told — if you can’t trust a man’s Facebook page…). Given the nature of his illness, sooner may be more of a blessing than later, but…
July 26, 2012 — 9:44 am
Meet my new bestest friend, Denty the Brain Damaged Herring Gull. I tried to get a closer picture, but he was being coy tonight.
Uncle B named him Denty, on account of he has a pink featherless dent right between his eyes. It’s like if his head was made of clay and you gave him a good poke with your index finger, like that.
Pretty clearly, somebody got off a damn good shot at him (as people around here will do) and he survived. He’s loopy as a bastard, though.
Of an afternoon, he (I guess it’s a he) lands at the peak of the roof, and then slides down the tiles sideways, surfer-like. Usually pretty skillfully on his feet, but occasionally on his butt. Our roof is l-o-o-o-ng. Then I flip pieces of stale bread into the grass for him and he stalks around stabbing them with his beak.
The chickens are afraid of him, the cat is fascinated. And me, I grew up a thousand miles from the sea, so I don’t have the coastal person’s native disgust for gulls. I think he’s pretty cool.
For a brain damaged flying rat.
July 25, 2012 — 11:08 pm
I got an unexpected care package from my folks today. To understand why my heart sank when I saw the sender, let me tell you what was in this one:
- A jacket and scarf
- A five-pack of multicolored dish towels
- A pair of oven gloves
- A collapsible rubber pasta strainer
- A terrycloth pad for drying things upon
- A pair of combination padlocks still in their packaging
- Two family portraits I painted for them as a gift 25 years ago (um, ouch)
- A slingshot
- A harmonica
At least this one is merely inexplicable. Sometimes, they send me clothes so horrible I can’t help but wonder if I’m being mocked. Or personal items that clearly show wear.
I’d put it down to senility, but I’ve been getting these packages all my adult life.
That’s not the worst bit. The worst bit is, I’m going to have to call and thank them in a minute.
July 24, 2012 — 9:53 pm
I has an anvil! It is a tiny, tiny anvil, and it is mine.
Turns out, the general shape of thing worked out by generations of blacksmiths is equally useful on the miniature scale. These things are intended for jewelers.
I’ve always wanted one for, like, generally doing tiny things to tiny things, but I specifically bought this one as an aid to hand-cutting pearl. I’ve cut a few bits to replace missing inlays on an old banjo, and I was forever trying to find the edge of a book or something to prop the blank against. Then I thought, hey, I know…
If you’ve got twenty minutes, this is an interesting little film showing Vietnamese young ‘uns cutting pearl inlay sets for instruments the West. These are for de Paule Luthier Supply in the States. To see how cheaply you can really get this many man-hours of pearl cutting, you have to check eBay.
Income disparity, the ancient friend of the arts.
July 23, 2012 — 10:09 pm
Oh, no. No no no. Deranged gunman, so not my beat. Not when it’s all hot and fresh and chock full of unknowns, anyway.
Amur leopards are from the Russian far East and they’re the most endangered big cats on earth. No more than 35 of them in the wild, and around 100 in captivity. Hundred and two now.
There. Isn’t that better?
July 20, 2012 — 9:11 pm
Get your own, official, do-it-yourself Barack Obama “You Didn’t Build That” joke kit! Just download the pre-cut, multi-layered Photoshop template, insert a snapshot of the life’s work of some poor taxpaying sap, and watch Dear Leader denigrate the value of his hard work and initiative.
The Obama camp is out in force today, screaming that when he said, “if you’ve got a business, you didn’t build that” what he meant was you didn’t build the roads and schools and other infrastructury things that made the business possible.
Okay. Well, maybe. But honestly, is that any better?
Take your average businessman. No, he didn’t build the roads to his factory. He also didn’t sew the suit he’s wearing, didn’t brew the cup of coffee he bought at Dunkin’ Donuts on the way to work, didn’t put the gold crown on his back molar. Duh. So what?
Everyone buys many thousands of goods and services in a lifetime — why are we supposed to feel perpetually guilty about the ones we’re forced to purchase from government and pay for with taxes?
July 19, 2012 — 7:13 pm
That’s right! I got me a free Co’Cola, suckas!
The bus behind the Coke bus was a Lloyd’s Bank bus, but sadly they were not giving out free money samples. I did ask.
There was a great rolling parade of corporate sponsors driving slowly ahead of the torch making a helluva racket. Dozens of coppers on motorbikes rolling around sealing off roads as the procession lumbered down the A259. I had a tame bobby with an earbutton radio next to me, so I knew what was coming.
The torch bearer himself was toward the end, a chubby gentleman of mature years. Bit of an anticlimax. Then they relit a lantern from the flame, blew out the torch, trundled the lantern onto a bus and off to the next town.
Not exactly a day at the circus, but above average for a Wednesday morning. Plus, free Coke!
July 18, 2012 — 9:54 pm