Spotted today in a farm shop several villages over. The man gently lifted the cat off the scale to weigh our pork chops. Made him nervous when Uncle B took out the cellphone; he probably thought we were narks.
June 10, 2014 — 10:54 pm
Late Saturday night, I’m sitting up in bed reading and Uncle B decides he has a hankering for toast. As you do. Five minutes later — BANG! — the whole house goes dark.
Fortunately for me, I was reading my Android, so I crept downstairs by its friendly glow (take that, stupid old paper books that are not actually on fire). While he fiddled with the fuse box, I shone a flashlight down into the toaster and…
slugs. Two slugs. Our emeffing toaster was full of emeffing slugs. Shorted the emeffer out with their emeffing wet bodies.
After struggling with ourselves all weekend, we’ve come to the conclusion the toaster has to go. No matter what we do to to it, we will never pop a couple slices of cheaploaf in there without thinking slugs. Toasty slugs. Crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside. Oh, dear god, it’s so disgusting.
So, toaster shopping. Meet the Tefal Tt552842 Toast N Bean. While it toasts your toasteses, it heats beans in that little cup on the side there.
Beans, like those runny orange Heinz baked beans you remember from church picnics. Brits think that shit is breakfast food. On toast. There’s also a knob around back that lets you listen to cricket and a linguistic setting that forces you to say “petrol” and “toMAHto.”
We aren’t getting this one.
June 9, 2014 — 8:50 pm
As you’ve probably heard, actress Ann B. Davis fell and conked her head last Sunday and died. She was 88. Nobody had her in this Dead Pool, but I would like to give her a sweasel.com shout-out anyway.
Davis had a rare screen gift: a cheerful sexlessness. And, indeed, most of the obits note that the actress was never romantically linked with anyone in her whole life.
She had a twin. Nobody revealed whether the twin got any.
Davis found religion in 1976, joining an evangelical Anglican church that she stuck with to the end. Evangelican Anglicans sounds a little contradictory to me, but I’m used to the Anglish Anglicans, who are pretty anglicable.
Davis never entirely retired from acting. Also, in 1994, she put her name to Alice’s Brady Bunch Cookbook which includes recipes for “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia Muffins” and “Groovy Old-Fashioned Pancakes.”
Kirkus reviews sniffs, “Cookies made with instant oatmeal and Snickers bars are way too sweet, and St. Paddy’s Whole Wheat Oatmeal Bread has the texture of sawdust and a dog-biscuit taste only Tiger could love. A final chapter gives recipes from the cast members themselves, including Eve Plumb’s lamely joking instructions for making boiled water out of ice. Even intense nostalgia cannot justify this book.”
Incidentally, the publisher of that inestimable volume also offer Mary Ann’s Gilligan’s Island Cookbook, but Granny’s Beverly Hillbillies Cookbook and Aunt Bee’s Mayberry Cookbook are totally by somebody else. Don’t even get me started on the I Love Lucy Cookbook!
Good weekend, all!
June 6, 2014 — 10:22 pm
So Obama delivered a few bland, wet remarks about Scottish independence at a press conference for the G7 summit. It was a classic Obama “on the one hand this, on the other hand that” nothingburger.
Douglas Alexander, the shadow Foreign Secretary (that means the party out of power) noted, “His clear statement of support for the UK staying together will resonate with many of us here in Scotland.” Which is a hilariously (an hilariously?) inapt description of his few weak, mumbled lines.
I don’t know how to break it to anybody here, but we have never had an American president who gave less of a small wet fart about Britain, Europe…the whole of Western Civ. Dude is an African/Indonesian/Hawaiian Muzzy simp with a side order of Pok-e-stohn.
p.s. by the way — go Scottish independence! If they break away, Britain will never have a Lefty government again.
June 5, 2014 — 10:44 pm
“The instructions that came with the package merely read: ‘Do not use in sunlight’.”
Words to live by.
“Men and women are equally vulnerable to these scams.”
Ehhhh…I don’t think so.
June 4, 2014 — 10:28 pm
Check this out; it’s a flyer someone poked through our next-door neighbor’s mail slot just before the Euro elections two weeks ago. For some reason, they didn’t put one in our box, so she shared.
It’s from the World Socialist Party, and it’s a truly rich and steamy vein of bullshit. Here are highlights from the above excerpt:
There is no money. There is no war. There are no rich people. There are no poor people. There are no leaders. All decisions are shared. All responsibilities are shared.
You now have no bills to pay, no rent, no mortgage, no debts. Everything is free, nothing is for sale, and neither are you. But you want to help, just like others do.
You might have chosen to drive a bus or a train, fix plumbing, coordinate a data network, plough a field, teach a child, organise an event, study engineering, cure a disease, brew beer, rehearse a play. You might choose to work four hours a week, or fouteen or forty.
So, lemme get this straight, four hours a week I brew beer (if I feel like it). For ten hours a day, my neighbor ploughs a freaking field he doesn’t own to grow crops he doesn’t control. Then we share equally in everything. Oh, no need for leaders or guys with guns to make this happen or anything.
Does anybody really believe this could work? C’mon. It has to be a put on, surely.
Click the picture for the whole flyer; there’s much more stupid where that came from. Or visit their website, if you think you can keep a straight face.
What do you bet their meetings always end in bitter acrimony and down-twinkles.
June 3, 2014 — 9:45 pm
Summer’s here. The neighbors are shorn. We had a gorgeous weekend lazing about in the sun.
That is all.
June 2, 2014 — 10:52 pm
Who is the world’s second-biggest consumer of tasty MacDonald’s fast food? The French. I shitteth thee not.
In a move that makes The Narrative cower in the corner, whimpering, a mob of angry Frogs from the town of Saint-Pol-sur-Ternoise has marched to demand somebody finish building our goddamned MacDonald’s toot sweet.
The courts put a halt to construction (seen above) because the site was zoned for industrial or artisanal activities, and a MacDonald’s is a commercial one. The suit was brought to court by a company that runs a dump nearby. I mean an actual dump, a “refuse site.” Mon dieu!
The townspeople are eyeing the 30 or so jobs the restaurant would bring and also, of course, those crazy tasty Big Macs and fries.
Anyhoo, their FaceBook page is oui oui au macdo st pol. MacDo. I really like that. Much better than Mickey D’s. I hated it when some marketing droid foist that off on us, and I hated it even more when I heard myself using it.
From now on, MacDo for me, in solidarity with my French brothers and sisters. Won’t you join me?
Good weekend, all!
May 30, 2014 — 10:01 pm
Behold, the Creature of Chislehurst Pond.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “silly Limies – that there’s a turtle. And not a very impressive specimen.” And you’d be right. But, believe it or not, there are no turtles in Britain.
No, really. They have tortoises — land shellbacks. We recently met a specimen who had been handed down as a family pet for over a generation. But they don’t have any water shellbacks. There are some on the Continent, in the more southerly climes (where they are usually called terrapins), but here they seem wild and exotic.
May 29, 2014 — 11:22 pm
Davem123 speculated in the Dead Pool thread that the White House would shortly commemorate the passing of Maya Angelou (1928-2014) with a photo of himself. Yep.
Though it’s at the end of the entry, not the beginning. And it’s not the soulful “Barack Obama has a sad” picture I was expecting.
You know, I’m going to stop right there before I say unkind things about the departed. Flights of angels sing thee, etcetera.
May 28, 2014 — 9:54 pm