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And he never said why…

It’s in the Plaza Vieja (Old Square) in Havana. It’s a sculpture of a woman, nude but for stiletto heels, riding a giant rooster with a giant fork slung over her shoulder. The title is Viaje Fantástico (Fantastic Voyage) and the artist is Roberto Fabelo.

Perhaps it’s an homage to prostitution. Perhaps it’s a giant rude pun. I couldn’t say. He certainly didn’t. Who knew commies could be so playful and enigmatic?

Do follow the link and have a look at it from other angles. It’s a seriously good bit of modelling work (look at that left hand).

I follow a number of figurative sculptors on FB and elsewhere. It heartening how many of them are genuinely good. There was a time I thought representational art was dead.

It’s not. It’s weird, but it’s not dead.

September 30, 2019 — 8:47 pm
Comments: 11

Dead Pool 127: GOGOGOGOGO!

OHMYGOD…I’m supposed to have a Dead Pool up in five minutes! SHIT SHIT SHIT! Timothy J. mcCorkle wins it with somebody named Sid Haig. Whoever. AHHHHH.

Three minutes. GO! GO! GO!

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.

September 27, 2019 — 6:00 pm
Comments: 61

Today we rode the steam train!

We hadn’t been to a heritage railway line in several years, the regular season is almost over, and weekdays when the kids are in school is the bestest time. Uncle B will probably murder me if I mention there was also a senior discount today.

You still get whole carriage-loads of special needs people, today as in most times we’ve visited. I don’t know if they get a discount or if it’s just a thing they particularly love to do, but you need to put a little gentle distance between yourself and the happy car.

I saw a whole field full of lady pheasants and then, two fields later, a whole field full of gentleman pheasants. I felt like leaning out of the carriage and shouting, “hey, boys…?” The were fields of moo and baa and lots more interesting birds and a bit of a castle.

You can still get on a train in the countryside and travel for an hour without seeing a giant housing project. That is unusual. They are doing a heartbreaking amount of construction in our area, on a scale and of a quality that is nothing short of vandalism. All to accommodate refugees.

And by ‘refugees’ I mean English people fleeing the cities.

But enough of that! It looks like Timothy McCorkle won the Dead Pool (Timothy. Dude. Email me at stoaty@sweasel.com – don’t put your address in a comment!). I never heard of Sid Haig, but it looks like he was in a bunch of stuff. You know what that means! Back here, tomorrow, Dead Pool Round 127.

September 26, 2019 — 5:59 pm
Comments: 4


Perhaps better known to you as hazelnuts or filberts. Kent cobnuts are a particular cultivar, and are often picked and sold (and eaten!) with their green husks still on. They taste totally different green and they’re awfully good for you.

We have two cobnut trees (you need two, for the tree sex). Every year, they produce a crop and then, before we harvest, every damn nut vanishes.

We got a fine crop this year, though. And I think I’ve worked it out – we were waiting too long. The green nuts ripen, fall off, and beasties eat them off the ground.

I love cobnuts. How the hell are we going to eat so many cobnuts?

September 25, 2019 — 8:17 pm
Comments: 9

Thank you for joining my support group

I know, I know…this poor kid. Clearly, she has Very Serious Issues. So, like, let’s shove her onto the world stage and poke her til she cries.

I get it. It’s wrong. I feel bad.

But I just couldn’t process her Trump face by myself. I’m weak. I needed help. I needed to draw it out. I needed you to be with me.



p.s. Oh. They’re going to impeach Trump, I see. Welp, he just clinched the 2020 election.

September 24, 2019 — 8:53 pm
Comments: 11

Happy equinox!

By TauʻolungaOwn work, CC0, Link

I know what you’re thinking — isn’t the equinox on the 21st? No. I guess. I guess it’s not.

The solar system. lol. How does it work?

I pay more attention to these things these days. The weather is that much more even and predictable here.

No, wait. The weather isn’t predictable. The seasons are predictable. Predictions day to day, sunny or rainy, are wrong more often than they’re right, probably because this is a little island off a big landmass, stuck out in the churning Atlantic.

But the seasons change more or less when they’re supposed to. They don’t get the wild swings and sudden weirdnesses we got in the States.

And yes…the long draught has ended and it has begun to rain. Welcome to fall (and Monday).

September 23, 2019 — 8:20 pm
Comments: 11

No, that’s not sinister at all…

Yipe! This appeared along my daily commute near a park. It was signed by the local county council.

Subtle. Polite. Not at all heavy-handed.

Happy to say, it wasn’t up more than a day or so. And no, local owners are not particularly bad about cleaning up after their doggoes. I hope one of them took it down, indignantly.

Good weekend, everyone. This may be our last weekend of summer-ish weather 🙁

September 20, 2019 — 8:41 pm
Comments: 6


I belong to half a dozen chicken groups on Facebook and they’re all going nuts: FB has banned sale of animals. To include eggs for hatching, swapping chickens, roosters free to a good home, ‘pm me for more information’, the lot.

I mean hard ban. They’re disappearing groups that slip up, sometimes without warning. Moderators have to watch forums and pounce on posts. Some are giving up and shuttering their pages. This hits the hobby chicken people badly, as FB was one of their main avenues for moving birds.

It happened after PETA bought shares and the speculation is obvious. According to the PETA press release that links to, they bought shares because FB kept censoring their gross animal pictures. And I noticed the “PETA kills animals” group is still up, so make of that what you will.

I’ve delivered rants in the long-ago on PETA and its founder, nutty Ingrid Newkirk. Honestly, one of the most evil puppy-murdering organizations on the planet.

Anyway, the sale ban is fairly recent, but I thought of it today because somebody in a local group was trying to sell a kitten. I knew the ad would vanish toot-sweet, and it did.

Yeah. Got me. Been kitten shopping.

September 19, 2019 — 4:37 pm
Comments: 9

Man makes trug

The Sussex trug, Wikipedia tells me

is a wooden basket. It is made from a handle and rim of coppiced sweet chestnut wood which is hand-cleft then shaved using a drawknife. The body of the trug is made of five or seven thin boards of cricket bat willow, also hand-shaved with a drawknife. They may have originated in Sussex because of the abundance of chestnut coppice and willows found on the marshes. Nails or pins used are usually copper, to avoid rust.

Shapes and sizes became standardised, the most well-known shape being the “common or garden” trug ranging in volume from one pint to a bushel. However, there is a diverse range of traditional trugs from garden and oval trugs to the more specialised “large log” and “walking stick” trugs.

There is written evidence of trug making locally going back to the 15th C, so who knows how long it’s been going on really.

We haven’t got one — they’re frightfully expensive — but I’m told a good trug can hold water. There are at least two shops still making them. We know because we pass them occasionally; they’re a couple of miles apart.

I don’t know if this guy is a freelance trug monger, but it’s a shot from one of the country fairs earlier this month. I didn’t look at his prices.

September 18, 2019 — 8:06 pm
Comments: 4

Cat question

Ever since we went from a three cat household to a one cat household, I think the little beast is lonely. He’s a sociable animal. But I’ve very rarely gone out seeking a cat – I wait for them to come to me, and then I have to deal with whatever I get. I’m thinking I’d like to get a jump on the cat goddess and hit up a local rescue for another.

Anyone have experience of mixing cats? My tentative thoughts are: slightly younger than him (he’s just over a year) but not a kitten (I’d feel selfish, since those are usually so much more easily adopted out). Female, so she sticks closer to home (but would he find her as much of a companion and hunting buddy as a male cat?). I’m not used to having choices.

Anecdotal evidence encouraged.

September 17, 2019 — 7:23 pm
Comments: 22