And Then, Very Old…

   Whilst rummaging through very old paperwork I ran into an old printout of a photocopy of a document entitled Engineers. After reading it I thought that, with minimal rewording, it could be yet another item wot could apply to those wot would rule over us. Especially the summary. See wot you think. Let’s get a copy over to Ed Minibrain, eh? 
   Apologies{?} to any engineers who may stumble through this here mirror. 

1.   When you don’t know what you are doing, do it              neatly.
2.   Experience is directly proportional to the quantity
      of equipment ruined or destroyed.
3.   Past experience is always true, never be misled by        present facts.
4.   In case of doubt, make it sound convincing.
5.   Do not believe in miracles, rely on them.
6.   Teamwork is essential, it allows you to blame                someone else.
7.   Recording of data is essential, it indicates you have        been doing something.
8.   No matter what result is anticipated, someone will          always fit facts to it.
9.   No matter what happens, there is always someone        who believes it happened according to his pet                theory.
10. The probability of an event occurring is inversely            proportional to its desirability.
11. The quantity which when added to, subtracted from,divided into, multiplied by the result obtained experimentally will give the correct result, is known
as a constant.
12. Experiments must be reproducible, they should              always fail in the same way.
13. If an experiment works, you must be using the              wrong equipment.
14. An experiment may be considered successful if no          more than half of the data must be discarded to obtain agreement with your pet theory.
15. For neatness, always draw the curves first, and              afterwards plot the data.
16. If an experiment is a complete failure it can always        be used as a bad example.                                                                     Summary:
                       When In Charge? Ponder.
                       When In Trouble? Delegate.
                       When In Doubt? Mumble.

And now I'm wondering if I've posted the above before in the distant past... 

 Quote; Scott Adams.

“Engineers like to solve problems. If there are no problems handily available, they will create their own problems.”

And Then, It's A Mess…

   Well, so, looking at the ‘news’ these past phew daze it would seem we’re rapidly approaching the end of daze. Why not? Let’s give the cockroaches another go.
   Anyhoo, recently the major ‘news’ has been about some TV cook wot’s been run off for using a hurty word wot, it seems, was possibly wacist. 
   Looks like that cook has lost ‘news’ poll position as some MP has now been suspended for wacist remarks. Just to clarify, suspended as in unable to work for the loopy party and NOT from a lamp-post...
   Time for this bit yet again, followed by that wacist catalogue to see if the hurty terms are in there. As previously made clear, click the video below at your own discretion but fear not, we all get a mention, okay? Go on, smile a while.
"May I humbly suggest to those flip-flop folk that they take a holiday anywhere well south, south-east or south-west of Dover, befriend a local to clue them in to some of the local expressions used jokingly and derogatorily when they see ol’ whitey, then sit at a street café and check how often they pick up on those expressions as opposed to the number of times they hear, “Oh, look, a nice white couple; we should invite them round ours for tofu tonight.”

   And to round things off and down I see Stear Karmer is giving kids of sixteen years the vote. In these daze,  do these kids know of life beyond their smart{?}phones or even read? Are they capable of forming a legible cross in a box just using a pen? Remember pens? And before getting that far, upon looking at the ballot paper how many will burst into tears and run screaming from the polling station when confronted with those shouty capital letters and that intimidatingly scary little full stop black dot inducing fear, apprehension and a flight of fright?

Quote; Larry Flynt. 

“Majority rule only works if you're also considering individual rights. Because you can't have five wolves and one sheep voting on what to have for supper.”

And Then, Last Again…

   Saw wot's below in an image in the comments over at Going Postal and rather than transcribe decided to see if there was a text version out there so I awoke yesterday and did a quick Google then went downstairs and searched the Wibbly, Wobbly Web and wasn’t too surprised to find so many examples. Giving that no never mind, here it be again. Made me smile and is in a similar vein as The Doggies Held A Meeting as well as being close to fact... Enjoy:

All the organs of the body were having a meeting, trying to decide who was the one in charge.
"I should be in charge," said the brain, "Because I run all the body's systems, so without me nothing would happen."
"I should be in charge," said the blood, "Because I circulate oxygen all over so without me you'd waste away."
"I should be in charge," said the stomach,"Because I process food and give all of you energy."
"I should be in charge," said the legs, "; because I carry the body wherever it needs to go."
"I should be in charge," said the eyes, "Because I allow the body to see where it goes."
"I should be in charge," said the rectum, "Because I’m responsible for waste removal."
All the other body parts laughed at the rectum and fired insults at him, so in a huff, he shut down tight.
Within a few days, the brain had a terrible headache, the stomach was bloated, the legs got wobbly, the eyes got watery, and the blood became toxic.
They all quickly thought about it and finally decided that the rectum should be the boss.

The Moral of the story? Even though all the others do all the hard work, an asshole is almost always the one who gets to be in charge. 

Quote; Richie Norton.

“I’ve seen too many leaders misunderstand leadership. They divide, instead of unite. They avoid their role in collective purpose.”

Erika M. Weinert

“Now when I think my boss is a shit-head, I can actually do something about it. I love being my own boss!”

And Then Raids…

   According to the ‘news’ and as mentioned by A K Haart, many barbers, nail bars an’ such have been raided on suspicion of doing naughty stuff. This reminded me of something I spotted a little bit after a goodly while ago. Possibly a comment on Going Postal - where else?
   This fellow went along to a local place he’d been using for a couple of years and found it closed and shuttered. He bobbed into the shop next door and enquired as to wot had happened. The shop owner replies, “You mean the Turkish barbers? He’s been arrested on suspicion of money laundering and selling contraband alcohol and tobacco and also selling drugs.”
   The fellow stood back in surprise, “Damn. Just goes to show you’ve really no idea wot goes on in the background of some of these places, eh? I’ve been using that place pretty regularly for about two years now and, until you mentioned it, had absolutely no idea he was a barber...”

Quote; Mackenzie Phillips

“You never know what someone is dealing with behind closed doors. You only know what you see or what you think you see.”

And Then This May Work...

   My little nest of vipers was watching the televisual receiving device yesterday afternoon and it seemed to be wall to wall game shows. The two - or was it three - shows wot caught my dwindling attention were on that BBC channel and all offered quite substantial monetary rewards. Wot popped into my old heed was where that money may come from. The answer was of course advertising revenue. Whoa! Wait a pocket pickin’ minute, this is the BBC, right? So it must be coming from wot folk are required to pay in televisual license fees. How cool is that then?
   With the ever dwindling number of folk forking out for a license thus revenue ever dwindling how about this dumb BBC idea.
You’ll have noticed that many charities have changed from give us x a month to join our lottery. This suggests two things to me; It will have increased money coming in and they already had very healthy floats.
   So BBC, as you can find money for game shows, how about you start a weekly lottery with many fine prizes? And the winners are drawn from? Why their TV license number of course. Offer many substantial winning chances and guess wot? There will be a good chance very many folk will be queuing up to get a TV license and a chance of winning some easy money. JD, you win again...

Quote; Bertrand Russell.

“Liberty is the right to do what I like; license, the right to do what you like.”

And Then A Smile…

   Well, so, another shed load of our money going to Africa to help ‘control’ the climate. A country that, according to gimme adverts, can’t even dig a hole to find clean water. One wonders where that money will end up eh? And no money to keep our own elderly a tad warm for a weekend.
   Anyhoo, let’s give that no never mind but it did jog my fading, cold memory to a very old post wot’s below:
   You may well remember this very old joke which I believe, back in the day, related to a missionary but I’ve update it somewhat to feature a charity worker, let’s call him Gavin, who was dispatched to a remote African village as a stepping stone to informing all the tribes in that area of the new religion; man-made climate change and also to persuade the locals to stop hunting the ‘endangered’ Wuguly that are the prime source of meat and clothing thereabouts. Also to stop the prolific use of open fires for cooking Wuguly meat.
   He was to explain that the charity would fund the felling of vast tracts of the jungle so’s to install solar panel arrays. The fact that these tracts of jungle were the main habitat and breeding grounds of the ‘endangered’ Wuguly and the source of the two veg that complements Wuguly meat, got lost in the charity’s need to be seen to be doing something and to keep donations rolling in.
   Gavin, with a locally hired translator, duly rolled into the village in the charity 4 x 4 monster motor and had a meeting with the chief were Gavin, via the translator, laid out the scheme. At the end of each statement relating to the stopping of hunting the majestic Wuguly, to stop using open fires and the plan to clear the surrounding jungle and such, all to prevent man-made climate change, the chief threw his arms in the air, smiled broadly and stamped his feet while shouting, “Umbala!! Umbala!!” Gavin then introduced the chief to the delights of yogurt to yet further enthusiastic shouts of, “Umbala!!”
   Gavin, much heartened by this was highly delighted when the chief said he would assemble the whole tribe within the hour so they could all hear the cunning plan and all try a tub of yogurt. This came to pass and the entire tribe acted in a similar manner to the chief upon hearing each statement from Gavin. Much stamping of feet, arm waving, laughing and shouting of, “Umbala!! Umbala!!”
   Gladdened by his apparent success, Gavin and his translator walked through the village towards their mega emissions ride to go back to ‘civilisation’.
   As they passed one big hut Gavin was taken by surprise by the loud noises emanating from within and asked his companion what all the to-do was about.
“Ah, that’s where they keep the live Wugulies they’ve trapped until they’re ready to kill ‘em and eat ‘em when hunting isn’t going too well.”
“Really? Perfect! I need photos for our heart tugging TV begging adverts. Let me get in there and...”
The translator quickly grabbed Gavin’s arm stopping him in his tracks. “Whoa!! Don’t go in there Gav! If you do you’ll find yourself up to your neck in Wuguly umbala.”
   Thus the inner joy Gavin felt for a job well done, rapidly faded into the world of reality...
   Climate change? What a load of utter umbala eh?

Quote; Mark Twain.

“Go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company.”

And Then Just A Reminder….

 ...to those wot may like something a tad different to a Christmas card to send to family and close friends. Yup, Elf Yourself is up again for the festive{?} season.
    You see the hits that site has had - is having? It’s a number I can’t pronounce and I’m guessing the originators are somewhat regretting not, right from the start, charging a phew pence per visit...
    I mentioned the other day that the posh supermarket near us had introduced self checkouts. All card only. Anyhoo, I was in there early the other morning to get something I can only find there. Got it and guess wot? Nine thirty and no manned - sorry, staffed checkout points were open. There were quite a phew early, elderly, cash only shoppers just waiting for a checkout to open. Softly, softly bu-by cash eh?

Quote; ??

“We live by the golden rule. Those who have the gold make the rules.”

And Then, Help Needed...

   This is an advanced notification prior to the launch, once accepted by the charities commission, of a new charity.
   I’m sure you’re all aware of the huge number of property front gardens that are being stoned over for off road parking and for getting those electric cars, bicycles, scooters and roller-skates in range of home charging points.
   The sad result of this is the ever diminishing natural habitat for our dear old friend, the slug.
   Some make it to the imagined safety of the back gardens only to encounter poisoned pellets.
   With this in mind, we hope to form SOS – Save Our Slugs – to establish safe refuge areas round the country for our dear old friends and also educate gardeners regards the spreading of poison.
   Soon we hope to have our campaign underway and there’ll be a phone number to call to give just £29.99 per month to help to keep slugs - and the charity management - in happy comfort.
   Owing to the present cost of living crises, when you join us you’ll also get an opt out code to cancel your donation at any time. This will be a two hundred character, combined upper and lower case,  alphanumeric code. Just call the number provided and enter your code within six seconds to cancel.
   Looking forward to welcoming y’all to SOS right soon...
   And thus we end with a fittingly cheerful charity number. In fact, our world as it presently is:

Quote;  Norah Wilson.

“Okay, but would you say between us we have the combined IQ of at least a garden slug?”

And Then A Bit O’ Sun...

   Well, the last phew days have been very pleasant regards the weather haven’t they? And the sky’s been a joy to behold wot with all those con-trails doing wot I know not.
   The most noticeable thing regards a bit o’ bright weather is the reaction to this of just about all the folk of an age – and that age group I’d guess at early teens to mid forties and predominately of the opposite gender to me. Now I realise that could mean a whole host of folk these days, so for the sake of simplicity, female...
   Y’all, I’m sure, know wot I mean. Several layers of outer garments have been cast aside in favour of brightly multi-coloured super skimpy barely coverings of questionable construction.
   This coupled with the desire to have hair coloured blue, purple, red or green, or a bit of all on one head, had my little nest of vipers and I feeling like we’d been transported to the centre circle of Billy Smarts Circus as they brought on the clowns...
   No offence; do as you wish while you still can, okay?
   One thought; with the seemingly ever growing popularity to have multi facial piercings to house rings, studs, buds an’ such, do those items get a tad hot on warm, sunny days?
   Anyhoo, time to continue our stroll through the kaleidoscope that is the new world order.

Quote;  Tamerlan Kuzgov.

“Clowns are made by those who made a circus out of life.”

And Then, From Back Then...

    I ‘loaned’ that wot’s below in blue way back in 2011 and bumped into it again the other day. Still works; not for me I may add. Hay, go below and let that old number play away while you read this:  Thankyou Jeff – if that was indeed the original author – for this important guidance.
   It's important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger.
   When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are over sensitive, and there's nothing worse than an over sensitive woman.
   My name is Jeff. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Susie.
   Since I retired several years ago, it's become necessary for Susie to get a full-time job along with her part-time job, both for extra income and for the health insurance benefits that we needed.
   Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf club about the same time she gets home from work.
   Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club so eating out is costly and not reasonable and I'm ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door.
   She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.
   Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example she will say that it's difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour.
   But, boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.
   When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the lawn. I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while and, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too.
   I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Susie. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrated women get, as they get older.
   However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing this was well worthwhile.
   After all, we're put on this earth to help each other, right?

Sincerely,

Jeff

IMPORTANT UPDATE:

   Jeff died suddenly on October 1 of a perforated rectum. The police report says he was found with a Calloway fifty inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club jammed up his rear end, with barely 5 inches of grip showing and a sledge hammer laying nearby.
   His wife Susie was arrested and charged with murder. The all-woman jury took only fifteen minutes to find her Not Guilty, accepting her defence that Jeff, somehow, without looking, accidentally sat on his golf club.

Quote;  Casey Stengel

“The key to being a good manager is keeping the people who hate me away from those who are still undecided.”

And Then, Get Ready...

   Wot comes next? I’m a tad early with this, but get ready for longer daze, warmer daze and the return of our little annoying flying friends wot have ingenious house breaking and entering skills, okay?  Thinking of why I was thinking of wot’s above, for reasons not yet fully understood, I then ran into wot’s below.       
   Enjoy but, sadly, this may come back to haunt you at two in the morning. And for sure every time you welcome a winged wanderer into your kitchen this coming summer:

Quote;  Anthony T. Hincks.

“Do flies fly backwards in the summer of the spring?”

And Then, A Repeat...

    With footy taking centre stage I was reminded, eventually - it’s an age thing, of a couple of footy bits. The first was the classic Rules For Playground Football wot all of you of an age will be able to relate to, and the second, below, is my favourite footy joke so sit back and enjoy both before the misery of the real world takes over again come Monday.
   A Scouser was touring the USA on holiday and stopped in at a remote bar in the hills of Nevada. He was chatting to the bartender when he spied an old Indian sitting in the corner. He had tribal gear on and long white plaits round a wrinkled old face.
"What’s with the old Indian over there then?" asked the Scouser.
"That's the old Memory Man." replied the bartender. "He knows everything. He can remember any fact. Why don’t you try him out?"
   The Scouser goes over, introduces himself and thinking the old guy won't know anything about English football, says, "So you’re the memory man eh? So who won the 1965 FA Cup Final then?"
"Liverpool." replies the Memory Man in a blink.
"Who did they beat?"
"Leeds," was the reply.
"And the score?"
"2-1."
"Who scored the winning goal?"
"Ian St. John." Was the old man's further reply.
   The Scouser was blown away by this and, on returning home to Liddypool, told everyone about the amazing Memory Man.
   Many years later the Scouser went back to the USA and while he was there thought he would try to find the impressive Memory Man again. Eventually he found the bar and, lo and behold, sitting in the same seat was the Indian, older and yet more wrinkled
   Because he had been so impressed by the old man, and as a sign of respect, the Scouser decided to greet him in the traditional Indian manner so approached him, smiling, arm raised, palm forward and called out, "How."
The old Indian looked up and said, "Diving header in the six yard box."

Quote;  Howard Wilkinson.

“I am a firm believer that if you score one goal the other team have to score two to win.”

And Then, Just In Case...

   ...you missed the below comment in the comments, that nobody reads, over at Going Postal, I’ve very naughtily copied and pasted it here to offer a smile to anyone who may have missed it over there. And heavens knows we all need a smile right now do we not? Or is that knot? No, a knot would be wot ‘they’ are desperately trying to tie us all into.
   Anyhoo, enough of that so may I apologise to - and thank - BurntoutAussie very big for brightening my early morning. Cost of living crisis? Read on:
”I'm getting really fed up with people whining about the price of things - £5 for iced tea, £10 for coffee, £4 for a slice of cake, £3 to park the car.
Any more complaining and I'm going to stop inviting people over.”
   Keep that smile in place and, as it’s the holiday season, let’s end with a repeat of a fine  old song regards simpler, happier daze so long lost.

Quote;  W. C. Fields.

“Start every day off with a smile and get it over with.”

And Then, An Old One...

   Well, so, last night I couldn’t post directly to Foggy so I fiddled about through the evening and, as previously noted, I started at the complex end of things as the easy, obvious just isn’t going to work is it? Last trick, Reboot laptop. Hoop jumped. I guess this could be because I just copied and pasted the software rather than doing an install so a reboot enabled OLW to find all the scattered bits of itself. Truthfully, I have no idea.
   By way of celebration, try this  from a very, very long time ago, that I stole from a Blog and forgot to copy the Blog name. I’m quietly confident it’s a site wot’s lost now. Obviously typed long before a small minority foisted a new world order of wacky wokery upon us all. Remember this is from many years in the past but, hay, it’s only a bit of fun so smile a while...
”Those of us who made it to Heaven will have a damned good laugh at the expense of all the sinners who now have to be judged. This is when we get our revenge on the thugs, the vandals, the slackers, the bed wetter's, the shirt lifters, the bed wetting shirt lifters, the prostitutes, the destitute, the loony left, the limp-wristed middle, the fascist right, the Australians, the Belgians, council house tenants, income tax evaders, destitute council house tenants, Belgian prostitutes, Australian shirt lifters, travellers, hoarders, spendthrifts, the rich, the super rich, Paul McCartney and Wings, Dale Winton, travelling rich people who know Dale Winton, anyone called 'Wayne', BMW drivers, shirt lifting rich travelling fascist BMW drivers, the Liberals, the Democrats, the Lib-Dems, the Tories, the income tax evading Tories who vote Liberal, Daily Mail readers, sports teachers, Thatcher, Hitler, Dale Winton again in case we missed him first time, Ken Magnolia, anyone called 'Ken', mobile phone salesmen, Colonel Sanders, bed wetting sports teachers called 'Ken' and blokes in white jeans.”
        

Quote;  Kim N.

“When someone else seeks to control what I see or hear, I have to assume they think they're superior and I'm too stupid to make up my own mind.”

            Eduvie Donald

“Being woke is good but it will choke you until you are broken and a broken soul does the will of its master.”

And Then Just A Link...

   Further to a comment by the good Ripper regards the truckers and others descending on Ottawa and that young lad wot’s ‘in charge’ over there, I searched and searched the BBC for any hint it was actually happening. Not surprising, nothing.
   From the comment from Ripper:
”...it’s reached 100,000 trucks and stretches back 480km (about 300 miles). A lot of American truckers have joined it, as have 1.4 million people, all headed for Ottawa to demand Trudeau's resignation.”
   However, I did locate a video advertising the upcoming BBC schedules and you may well find something you really, really don’t want to miss amongst this lot. Sorry, no mention of Canada...
          

Or how about this take on the situation? Important note: Before you do the clicky thingy: Naughty word warning in force for this...
   Let’s end with a tune that I should’ve featured yesterday with all the references to time being tight. Enjoy.

          

Quote;  Thomas Sowell.

“If people in the media cannot decide whether they are in the business of reporting news or manufacturing propaganda, it is all the more important that the public understand that difference, and choose their news sources accordingly.”

And Then, Records...

   To show my undying support for the wondrously ‘woke’ period we’re experiencing just now and how all things female are so, like, perfect and all part of our evolutionary journey, I was mindful of wot’s below wot I first discovered – and copied without a backward glance, now corrected – way back in 2011. Fast forward to the ‘woke’ period and wot is it now? Fun or offensive? Still fun where I come from.

Female Guinness Book Of Records;

Car Parking
The smallest kerbside space successfully reversed into by a woman was one of 19.36m (63ft 2ins), equivalent to three standard parking spaces, by Mrs. Elizabeth Simpkins, driving an unmodified Vauxhall Nova 'Swing' on 12th October 1993. She started the manoeuvre at 11:15am in Ropergate, Pontefract, and successfully parked within three feet of the pavement 8 hours 14 minutes later. There was slight damage to the bumpers and wings of her own and two adjoining cars, as well as a shop frontage and two lampposts.
Incorrect Driving
The longest journey completed with the handbrake on was one of 504 km (313 miles) from Stranraer to Holyhead by Dr. Julie Thorn (GB) at the wheel of a Saab 900 on the 2nd April 1987. Dr. Thorn smelled burning two miles into her journey at Aird but pressed on to Holyhead with smoke billowing from the rear wheels. This journey also holds the records for the longest completed journey with the choke fully out and the right indicator flashing.
Shop Dithering
The longest time spent dithering in a shop was 12 days between 21st August and 2nd September 1995 by Mrs. Sandra Wilks (GB) in the Birmingham branch of Dorothy Perkins. Entering the shop on a Saturday morning, Mrs Wilks could not choose between two near identical dresses which were both in the sale. After one hour, her husband, sitting on a chair by the changing room with his head in his hands, told her to buy both. Mrs. Wilks eventually bought one for £12.99, only to return the next day and exchange it for the other one. To date, she has yet to wear it. Mrs. Wilks also holds the record for window shopping longevity, when, starting September 12th 1995, she stood motionless gazing at a pair of shoes in Clinkard's window in Kidderminster for 3 weeks two days before eventually going home.
Jumble Sale Massacre
The greatest number of old ladies to perish whilst fighting at a jumble sale is 98, at a Methodist Church Hall in Castleford, West Yorkshire on February 12th 1991. When the doors opened at 10: 00am, the initial scramble to get in cost 16 lives, a further 25 being killed in a crush at the first table. A seven-way skirmish then broke out over a pinafore dress costing 10p which escalated into a full scale melee resulting in another 18 lives being lost. A pitched battle over a headscarf then ensued and quickly spread throughout the hall, claiming 39 old women. The jumble sale raised £5.28 for local boy scouts.
Talking about Nothing
Mrs. Mary Caterham (GB) and Mrs. Marjorie Steele (GB) sat in a kitchen in Blackburn, Lancs. and talked about nothing whatsoever for four and a half months from 1st May to 7th August 1978, pausing only for coffee, cakes and toilet visits. Throughout the whole time, no information was exchanged and neither woman gained any new knowledge whatsoever. The outdoor record for talking about nothing is held by Mrs. Vera Etherington (GB) and her neighbour Mrs. Dolly Booth (GB) of Ipswich, who between 11th November 1983 and 12th January 1984 chuntered on over their fence in an unenlightening dialogue lasting almost 62 days until Mrs. Booth remembered she'd left the bath running.
Gossiping
On February 18th 1992, Joyce Blatherwick, a close friend of Agnes Banbury popped round for a cup of tea and a chat, during the course of which she told Mrs. Banbury, in the strictest confidence, that she was having an affair with the butcher. After Mrs. Blatherwick left at 2:10pm, Mrs. Banbury immediately began to tell everyone, swearing them all to secrecy. By 2:30pm, she had told 128 people of the news. By 2:50pm it had risen to 372 and by 4:00pm that afternoon, 2774 knew of the affair, including the local Amateur dramatic Society, several knitting circles, a coachload of American tourists she flagged down and the butchers wife. When a tired Mrs. Banbury went to bed at 11:55pm that night, Mrs. Blatherwick's affair was common knowledge to a staggering 75,338 People, enough to fill Wembley Stadium.
Group Toilet Visit
The record for the largest group of women to visit a toilet simultaneously is held by 147 workers at the Department of Social Security, Longbenton. At their annual Christmas celebration at a night club in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne on October 12th 1994, Mrs. Beryl Crabtree got up to go to the toilet and was immediately followed by 146 other members of the party. Moving as a mass, the group entered the toilet at 9:52pm and, after waiting for everyone to finish, emerged 2 hrs 37 mins later.
Film Confusion
The greatest length of time a woman has watched a film with her husband without asking a stupid plot-related question was achieved on the 28th October 1990, when Mrs. Ethel Brunswick sat down with her husband to watch' The Ipcress File'. She watched in silence for a breath-taking 2mins 40secs before asking "Is he a goodie or a baddie, then, him in the glasses?", revealing a staggering level of ignorance. This broke her own record set in 1962 when she sat through 2mins 38secs of' 633 Squadron' before asking "Is this a war film, is it?".
Single Breath Sentence
An Oxfordshire woman today became the first ever to break the thirty minute barrier for talking without drawing breath. Mrs. Mavis Sommers, 48, of Cowley, smashed the previous record of 23 minutes when she excitedly reported an argument she'd had in the butchers to her neighbour. She ranted on for a staggering 32 minutes and 12 seconds without pausing for air, before going blue and collapsing in a heap on the ground. She was taken to Radcliffe Infirmary in a wheelbarrow but was released later after check-ups. At the peak of her mammoth motormouth marathon, she achieved an unbelievable 680 words per minute, repeating the main points of the story an amazing 114 times whilst her neighbour, Mrs. Dolly Knowles, nodded and tutted. The last third of the sentence was delivered in a barely audible croak, the last two minutes being mouthed only, accompanied by vigorous gesticulations and indignant spasms.

   For those who enjoyed yesterdays media clip, here’s another from days of yore provided by the good Ripper. A horse isn’t a flower you say...

Quotes;  Kim N.

“When someone else seeks to control what I see or hear, I have to assume they think they're superior and I'm too stupid to make up my own mind.”

And Then, Ramping Up...

   You may have picked up an item buried in the ‘news’ that there’s some big jamboree kicking-off tomorrow when  leaders from hear, there and everywhere will magically change the weather wot we get.
   Remember when it was global cooling? One warm summer so they quickly changed to global warming. Seems those at the top are happy with the level of fear their one-sided propaganda has instilled in the young and those that should know better but are happy to believe just one side without question.
   However, let’s ramp it up so that now? Twenty four hours a day we get subjected to climate emergency. Ah shacks ma heed.
   Anyhoo, Halloween and not one tricky or treaty came a tap-tap-tapping at our door. I assume the same folk terrified of changing weather have also fallen for the co-co terror factor.
   However, fireworks there’ve been a few which leads me to a comment shamelessly copied from Going Postal – again - which made me smile out loud. Thank you so much for cheering me up for the evening;
ABS - unvaccinated Foxoles7;
”Those stupid people letting off those fireworks early. Just last week one went off and scared our cat so much she knocked over our Christmas tree.”

Quote;  Ben Gibbard.

“People always talk about how time flies; it's become sort of a colloquialism now. You don't really understand it until you reach your late 30s and early 40s - and I'm sure time will move even faster as I get older.”

And Then, A Picture’s Worth...

...a lot of words but the picture I ran into a couple of days ago perfectly illustrates almost all the muddled words spoken by all the ‘experts’, politicians and similar over the past eighteen months plus. Sorry, I saw it, loved it and just had to borrow it.

   Anyhoo, my thanks to the originator, whoever you be and apologies for doing that copy an’ paste thingy.
   Okay, better finish today with this never gets old number again, right?

           

Quote;  Nathaniel Lee.

“They called me mad, and I called them mad, and damn them, they outvoted me.”

And Then, Let’s Dance...

   Another day of very little news but plenty of propaganda is all I can see so I’m having a break from typing against all that I can’t fix.
   Seems like the right thing to do as word of censorship, fines and gaol for wot used to be called free speech seems to be drawing ever closer and, for sure, any Blog wot’s deemed to be a little ‘off message’ will be ‘removed’.
   Wot I want to share is a thing I ran into on that Tube that used to be You last night, images of which played in ma heed all night.
   Rather than embederate it, I’ve linked which, with luck, should open the piece in full browser window. I did this the better to show wot’s on show.
   You had enough rambling? Then I’ll begin.
   Firstly, I like the music, which is somewhat sad for a mid seventies lad, but wot grabbed my attention is the dancer. Now this dancer is either incredibly nimble on their pins or the movie is the result of incredibly nimble editing. I do believe it’s the former.
   Whatever, the dancing, feet and legs only, is both impressive and also more than a tad creepy and spooky. No idea wot the other fifty three million plus viewers thought of it. 
   Ear phone thingies plugged-in and the bass setting well set? Okay, here’s the link  and I’ll guarantee you’ll play it more than once. I mean, hell, is that for real or wot? And wot’s it all about?
   I, me and myself tried some of they moves and managed to lift and lower my left and right foot, alternatively of course, a rather impressive three times each in five minutes...

Quote;   Edwin Denby.

“There’s a bit of insanity in dancing that does everybody a great deal of good.”

And Then, Oh Dear...

   Yup, I had a whoops moment today.
   I’m sure I’m not alone in having a small library of witty responses tucked away in my old two megabyte mess of a head, in a file marked, unsurprisingly, witty responses.
   Anyhoo, I was in a place this AM that resulted in my signature being required. Not having a pen with me and not seeing one in range, I thought, ‘Ah ha! Time for a little light relief’ and enquired of the young lady attending to my needs, “Do you, perchance, have a pen secreted about the voluminous folds of your outer garments?”
   Owing to age, that’s my excuse, this wasn’t the moment of lightness I’d anticipated as I noted, to late, that I was dealing with a young lady of quite voluminous physical proportions. Damn! I suffered the received death glare with good grace, managed to get the pen as it was thrust, rather forcefully, in the general direction of my head, signed the document and beat a rapid but well ordered retreat with the old adage, ‘engage brain to avoid pain’ playing on a loop in ma heed.

Quote;  ??

“I walk around like everything’s fine, but deep down, inside my shoe, my sock is sliding off.”