If I did that right, you had a moment of technicolor mustelidity that click-linked to this individual post. Last time I hijacked my own front page, though, the place was a mess until I put it all back where it used to be. (April Fool’s Day, 2011. FYI).
I *will* have my little joke.
Oh, don’t worry. The blog’s still there. I’m not taking this opportunity to retire or anything like that. I’ll put everything back directly. I’d be lost without you, my imaginary internet friends.
I’ll entertain suggestions, though. If you’d like the occasional guest post or photo essay or something.
I was going to do a redesign, but I hate it when my sites change without warning. Also, lazy. I do think I’d like to freshen things up. Clean up the sidebars (are blogrolls any use any more?). Maybe tweak the comment section. Find a rating plugin that works.
Anyway — thanks for a decade of larfs! Honestly, I don’t think I could’ve made a trans-Atlantic move without you.
p.s. Oh, did I forget to mention? Today is also my eighth wedding anniversary. Tonight, I shall drink champagne and eat steak. And leave this post up another day. *waves*
February 13, 2017 — 9:28 pm
Am I late? I’m late! Beg pardon – Daylight Savings Time or whatever the hell.
Ric Fan takes the dick with ‘Professor’ Irwin Corey. Despite the fact he was older than holy shit, I somehow never ran across this guy before. I’d heard the name, I just didn’t know his shtick.
Apparently, among other things, he entertained the troops of Occupy Wall Street. So another lefty comedian, what’s new?
e’s dead, that’s what.
0. Rule Zero (AKA Steve’s Rule): your pick has to be living when picked. Also, nobody whose execution date is circled on the calendar. Also, please don’t kill anybody. Plus (Pupster’s Rule) no picking someone who’s only famous for being the oldest person alive.
1. Pick a celebrity. Any celebrity — though I reserve the right to nix picks I never heard of (I don’t generally follow the Dead Pool threads carefully, so if you’re unsure of your pick, call it to my attention).
2. We start from scratch every time. No matter who you had last time, or who you may have called between rounds, you have to turn up on this very thread and stake your claim.
3. Poaching and other dirty tricks positively encouraged.
4. Your first choice sticks. Don’t just blurt something out, m’kay? Also, make sure you have a correct spelling of your choice somewhere in your comment. These threads get longish and I use search to figure out if we have a winner.
5. It’s up to you to search the thread and make sure your choice is unique. I’m waayyyy too lazy to catch the dupes. Popular picks go fast.
6. The pool stays open until somebody on the list dies. Feel free to jump in any time. Noobs, strangers, drive-bys and one-comment-wonders — all are welcome.
7. If you want your fabulous prize, you have to entrust me with a mailing address. If you’ve won before, send me your address again. I don’t keep good records.
8. The new DeadPool will begin 6pm WBT (Weasel’s Blog Time) the Friday after the last round is concluded.
The winner, if the winner chooses to entrust me with a mailing address, will receive an Official Certificate of Dick Winning and a small original drawing on paper suffused with elephant shit particles. Because I’m fresh out of fairy shit particles.
February 10, 2017 — 6:00 pm
Had a late thang with my historical society tonight. We’re just in.
My bosses are old. You know my employers value me for my relative youth and strength. I am, like, historical society muscle. True story. And they think Onkle B is adorable.
These aren’t my old ladies, though. From what I gather, this is a group of Norfolk biddies in their traditional garb.
There must have been one rotten horrible old Norfolk hag whose behavior made this the international symbol for witches.
Don’t forget! Back here tomorrow, 6WBT. Dead Pool Round 95!
February 9, 2017 — 10:27 pm
Okay, maybe not so adorable. This is a 3D model I made ages ago, when I first got started with Blender. I posted about it at the time. I guess. I hadn’t remembered.
Until somebody wrote and asked if he could have it for something. Of course he could.
And. Oh. My. God. IT’S SO FUZZY!
February 8, 2017 — 9:14 pm
Ric Fan didn’t even notice, and I sure didn’t. It took ExpressoBold to point it out.
So, you know what that means. Back here Friday, 6WBT. Dead Pool Round 95.
And the answer is: iceberg lettuce was £1.19 at Aldi today, an increase of 9p over last week.
There were plenty. I bought one.
The sandwich is back, baby.
February 7, 2017 — 9:50 pm
Whenever I hear about the severe vegetable shortage, I wonder — who the hell wants to eat severe vegetables? But, yeah, you’ve probably read that we’re having Vegetable Issues.
The story is, we in the North are dependent on growers in the South if we want Summer veg in Winter. England relies mostly on the Spanish for things like peppers and spinach that won’t be available from local growers for months. And Spain has had a shit Winter. Much of their February crop was rained out.
How serious? Eh. Two weeks ago, I paid £.45 for a head of iceberg lettuce at Aldi. Last week, the same store was asking £1.10. They had plenty, though.
Frankly, I think 45p is super cheap for a head of lettuce, anyway. I remember in college there was a spike in lettuce prices and a head climbed over $1. We were horrified. We seamlessly switched our salads to cabbage and felt quite pleased with ourselves…until a few days went by and the gastric consequences of a diet rich in cabbage began to present itself.
God, we were stupid.
The oldies I work for aren’t impressed. Summer vegetables in Winter are a danged newfangled idea, like digital whotsits and the gramaphonium. We have plenty of local veg, and all the better for not coming from the Continent.
So, don’t worry. We aren’t facing scurvy any time soon.
p.s. No, I didn’t buy the lettuce. We’ll do our weekly shop tomorrow and I’ll tell you what it’s up to now.
February 6, 2017 — 8:02 pm
Jack didn’t come home last night. This is a big deal because, tomcat though he is, he never disappears for more than a couple of hours.
Mr and Mrs Numpty here were out at Stupid O’ Clock in the morning with flashlights yelling “heeeeeere kittykittykitty” into the hedges and under cars. I went to work feeling like death warmed over. We’ve had to call the neighbors to apologize today, in case anyone caught the performance.
He turned up this morning unsteady on his feet, with junk in his fur and a limp. We reckon he fell out of a tree or something. He’s slept all day. No blood on him and nothing seems broken, but he is definitely dazed and shocky. We’re going to watch him for twenty four hours before we decide on the vet.
I am Tired. And I would Like A Drink Now. Have a good weekend, everyone, and look out for your assorted fuzzbutts and furbags!
February 3, 2017 — 9:40 pm
I got nothing going on tonight, so I’ll give you an update on the other cat. I don’t post about Charlotte much — former feral, flew with me from Rhode Island — but she’s still very much with us.
She’ll turn fifteen this May and we had a bit of a scare this week. She had a hard kittenhood and has always been a bit round-belly-boney-butt, but she seemed particularly bloated lately. Then she went off her feed on Chicken Night, which is unheard of, greedy beast.
We haven’t taken her in in years (she hates it so very much), but we had the vet look her over. He squeezed her like a stress toy, didn’t find anything and suggested an ultrasound. Said it would run about £70 and rule out most things. So, okay.
Turns out, nothing much wrong with her. A little kitty osteoporosis, maybe some parathyroid trouble. Nothing out of the ordinary for an old gal. Phew.
Oh, and that £70 didn’t include prep, anesthesia, taxes…eh. You get the picture. What happened to the good old country vet who gave kitty a shot of broad-spectrum antibiotic and told you to keep her quiet for a few days?
February 2, 2017 — 10:16 pm
A shopping list has turned up under the floorboards of Knole, an ancient and huge country house in Kent. We’ve never been, but it’s just in reach of a day trip and has been on our list since forever.
The note is dated 1633 and appears to have fallen out of a trunk in the attic and worked its way down into the woodwork. It reads:
Mr Bilby, I pray p[ro]vide to be sent too morrow in ye Cart some Greenfish, The Lights from my Lady Cranfeild[es] Cham[ber] 2 dozen of Pewter spoon[es]: one greate fireshovell for ye nursery; and ye o[t]hers which were sent to be exchanged for some of a better fashion, a new frying pan together with a note of ye prises of such Commoditie for ye rest.
Your loving friend
Wikipedia tells me Greenfish is used as the common name of several unrelated groups of fish: Ascension wrasse, Bluefish, Murray cod, Pollock, St. Helena wrasse. Though all of those were discovered after 1633, so most likely it’s this one: “Greenfish” was also formerly used to refer to green cod, fresh or freshly-salted Atlantic cod.
I first saw this story at The Smithsonian‘s FaceBook, which, sadly, spends too much time these days explaining to us important historic facts like the Statue of Liberty is actually a Muslim woman. I used to love that place.
They’ve been working on a multi-million pound renovation at Knole for some years now. I posted in 2014 about the witch marks found there by workmen.
February 1, 2017 — 9:30 pm