Foaming In The Coaming

Firstly, As Per Our Tradition

We need to define 'Coaming' as I'm pretty sure it's not a word you are familiar with.  It refers to the frame around an aircraft cockpit to keep out moisture, and if Art will put down his nuclear fuel rod for a second - 

     That's 'Coming Home Damaged' by Terence Cuneo as I thought a Lancaster Giant Flying Mallet would attract more traffic than a bit of coaming.  Still, let's get up the relevant picture.  Art!

     Now we are all far better-informed than we were five minutes ago.

     Let us now define 'Foam' as per my 'Collins Concise English Dictionary', which informs us that it is ' - a mass of small bubbles of gas formed on the surface of a liquid'.  

     What we're going to be discussing here is a verrry specific kind of foam.  Namely, the one used to fight fuel fires.  We covered this on BOOJUM! almost 2 years ago, in August 2024, when the Kozaky set the Ruffian Proletarsky refinery ablaze, which then burned for two weeks.  Art!

This homie got foamy

     You see, firefighting foam is designed to lie on the surface of any burning fuel and both cool and suffocate it, cutting off oxygen so it extinguishes the fire.  NO!  You cannot use water.  Di-hydrogen monoxide, to use the cod name, is heavier than fuel and would simply invert the fuel/water interface, thrusting the burning fuel atop into fresh air and battening the fire.  Herein the link -

BOOJUM!: Blight And Frothy

     ANYWAY today's Intro concerns a tale related by 3rd-party, about a newly-constructed aircraft hangar, the fire suppression system, and an idiot.  Art!

     An aircraft hangar.  They are typically enormous enclosed structures, built to keep delicate and hideously expensive aircraft safe and cosy.  What do modern aircraft hangars have?  Why, overhead suppression foam fire systems, of course - obviously!   

     So, the foreman and his crew were installing a foam fire suppression system in a newly-constructed aircraft hangar.  They were being overseen and instructed, not by the Owner, but by the Owner's Representative on-site, as some rich people are too busy to be where the action is.

     Here now follow some technical details, so neck your Red Bull and keep paying attention.  Art!

     Those dangly red bits are part of the hangar fire suppression system.  

     Stage One of the system was the diesel pump that would shove several hundred PROUD IMPERIAL gallons of water per minute into the hangar system.  This would impact six 500 gallon drums of foam reagent.  The reagent expanded 200 times it's original volume and poured down onto the hangar.

     That's how you suffocate a fire.  As beknownst to Master Installer of New Equipment, hereafter MINE.

     Whom else is present at this hangar?  Why, none other than Owner Representative of Entitlement and Stupidity, hereafter ORES.  Yes they were dense.  Art!

     What happens when one of these foam fire suppression systems reaches completion?  Why what Mythbusters might call 'Proof Of Viabliity', and I can see Jamie tweaking his moustache already.  Not, 'Does it work' but more 'It works thanks to this small-scale demonstration'.  

     As MINE instructed, thanks to years of experience, carrying out one of these tests used a fraction of the total reagents, producing perhaps 100 gallons of foam.  The entire hangar would be covered in foam to a depth of 10 PROUD IMPERIAL feet.  Art!

     MINE explicitly stated 'This is never a full test of the full capacity of the system'.  

     Guess who objected?  ORES.  Their argument was that the finished hangar would be housing many million dollars-worth of aircraft, so the system needed to be fully and completely tested.  They would not back down on this, so MINE had the foresight to write out a quick waiver document and have ORES sign it.  Art!

     This ought to have been a gigantic waving red flag the size of a football field.  Ought to.  For ORES presses on.

     MINE gives the signal and the suppression system kicks into action.  Within minutes the foam has reached and surpassed the 10' level and is, in fact, beginning to cover the control room windows where they are observing, 20' above ground level.  Art!

     Horrified, ORES demands that the test be halted.  This is easier said than done, as the minion who triggered the test now has to jog over to a completely different building to turn off the water.  Then, because of latency, water will still be entering the system, so they have to shut off each foam generator manually.

     By the time the system is shut down, the entire hangar is full of foam.  So, also, is the adjoining office suite, whose doors had not been secured against foam ingress.  

     Next day the owner turns up, breathing fire and brimstone, wanting to know why a full system flush had been run.  MINE simply gave them the form that ORES had completed and that was the last time anyone saw ORES on site.  MINE detailed that empying those 6 reagent drums cost $150,000.

     Oooops.

This Is Low Blow Hilarious

Conrad is not a fan of South Canadian late-night chat show programs, as they are all scripted by humble minions who don't get a fraction of the appreciation they ought to -

     ANYWAY Stephen Colbert had Andy Serkis on his program, and someone had the demented yet brilliant idea to have Andy read Donold Trump's social media posts in the character of Gollum.  Art!

     It killed me.  I couldn't watch without laughing and may still mis-key whilst writing this.  If King Piggy ever encounters this it's potential stroke material.

A Shout Out To 'Hazegrayart'

If you're not familiar, HGA is a CGI artist, whom takes fictional or speculative ideas and renders them via clips on Youtube.  We have already covered their 'Skyflash' adaptation from 'Thunderbirds', where they turn a model into the most frighteningly fast piece of kit in the sky.  Really, check it out.  Now, they have done a vlog on Project Orion.  Art!

     If you're paying attention then you will realise this is not an Apollo launch as the assembled vehicle is not remotely familiar.  Art!

     A 'chemical' launch, in that they use conventional rocket physics of combustible propellants.  Art!

     First stage separation.  The chemical booster is exhausted and falls away, releasing the nuclear propulsion mechanism for the Project Orion main assembly to go into operation.  Art!

     Which means detonating a small nuclear bomb behind the spacecraft, propelling it forwards thanks to kinetic energy.  Before you throw up your hands in horror, this system has been assessed as being practical since the Sixties, and was one of the motive power methods considered by Clarke and Kubrick on '2001'.  Art!

     Earth to Mars in 5 days.  With no reliance on Elong Tusk.

Doughy Slabcake

I am unsure if there is actually a recipe of that name, but thought I'd just pass around another terrible photograph of Donold Trump, because that's what I thought upon seeing it.  Art!

     He looks artificially inflated.  Too much yeast?  Not enough baking powder?  It looks like his head might come apart along the seams - what the heck was that horror film where  that happened?  Art!

     O yes, 'Van Helsing' from <shudders> 2004.  No, I couldn't get a shot of his head coming apart, you ghouls.  Use your imagination!

     O hang on a mo - Youtube to the rescue.  Art!

     You can see him giving an incoherent burbling rant on the White House lawn already, can't you?  With no correspondent daring to mention the whole Head Coming Apart thing.

Are You Hungary For More?

The new Magyar administration in Hungary has scared the Orbanazi holdovers so much that they are scrambling to get their assets out of Hungary before they can be confiscated or interned or seized.  To that end, Art!

     These are Orcban regime jets, which are now parking in Vienna, Austria, since if they try to park in Budapest, Hungary, they might be confiscated.

     Peter Magyar also further cemented his impeccable credentials by summoning the Ruffian ambassador to be severely chastised about drone-bombing Ukranian civilians.

     Methinks Putinpot is going to rue ever having lost the Weretoad's regime to democracy.  

Driveway To Desperation

First Of All

I would like to refer you to the word 'Swat', and if we prod Art into a state of semi-sentience with this epée hooked up to a car battery - 

     May I introduce you to one of Edgar Lear's more satirical poems.  You see, back in 1873 when he wrote 'The Ahkond of Swat', the British Raj was still in full play and the river Swat was still part of India.  The Ahkond was the ruler of this particular corner of Empire, and Ol' Ed went on at length pondering about his features and status, rather milking the Oriental Exoticism theme.  Art!

     For your information, the Swat is now in Pakistan.

     ANYWAY we're going off on a tangent here, and I wanted to get back to the verb 'Swat', which my 'Collins Concise English Dictionary' informs is of northern English dialect origin, coming from 'Squat'.  It means 'To strike or hit sharply', and - sorry?  It's a variety of fencing sword, if you must know.  Art!

     If we can resume?  We can?  Thank you so much! <Conrad looks loweringly at those who commented>.

     Remember that definition, because it's pretty apt.  Art!

     We now approach the meat of the matter.  Enter 'S.W.A.T.', which stands for 'Sheila Was A Termagant' sorry 'Special Weapons And Tactics', because the series focussed on the Los Angeles team who are more akin to soldiers than law enforcement.  When you realise that these people have access above and beyond the usual handguns, shotguns and automatic rifles of normal law enforcement, and in fact have tactical nuclear weapons in order sorry kit beyond the ken of common cops.  Art!

The HK UMP is one ugly gun

     S.W.A.T. do not do boring regular stuff like radar traffic stops, doing presentations in schools or wellness checks.  Their stock in trade is counter-terrorism, barricaded suspects or hostage rescue.  You know, cool shizzle.

     And so we come to another 'Ripe' Youtube channel annotation, where the central issue of contention is the wrought subject of -

     Driveway length.  

     No!  Not in the sense of two male neighbours competing to see who has the longer driveway, as men tend to get when suffering from too much testosterone.  This was the end result of  Affronted Driveway Owner, hereafter ADO, having a larger and longer driveway than his Entitled Neighbour Troublemaker, hereafter ENT*.   

     'Ripe' edited out the introduction of this tale, presumably since it included verifiable information that could have identified either party, which is likely to lead to libellous litigation.  Art!

     Let me display a few of the notes that ADO had left on their neighbour's car, which kept finding itself parked on his driveway.

"Sorry for the misunderstanding, this driveway is private property"

"Private property, please keep out"

"I must assume you are ignoring my notes"

     ENT would park her SUV behind ADO's modest Subaru, completely blocking it in and rendering him unable to drive his own car to work, making him late, having to resort to public transport or Uber.  Art!

     After being blocked for THREE DAYS running, ADO had enough and called a tow truck.  Predictably, ENT came storming out of her pit and tried to bully the tow truck driver into leaving her trespassing car alone, because she needed to use ADO's driveway since her own was criminally small and she'd sue him if he got her car towed - entirely predictable shizzle.

     Her car got towed.

     She tried to block ADO, who decoyed her away from in front of his car by rolling his window down, and as she came around the side he drove off.

     Now, a normal person would give up at this point.  ENT proved she was in fact a freaking nutjob.  Because - Art!

     ADO was sitting down to enjoy a coffee in mid-afternoon, when suddenly his local neighbourhood law enforcement S.W.A.T. team shotgunned his front door off it's hinges, poured into the house and demanded he release the child hostage.  At gunpoint.  At many, many gunpoints.

     You're probably ahead of me here.  ENT had rung the local S.W.A.T. office and shrieked that her offspring had been kidnapped and was being held captive by ADO next door.  This is colloquially known in South Canada as being 'Swatted' and is an extremely dangerous and stupid thing to do because we're not dealing with flies here, rather heavily-armed police looking for reasons to kill bad guys.    Art!

     Back at the station, ADO straightened things out whilst technicians traced the errant call back to ENT.

     Surprise!  SHE HAD DONE THIS BEFORE.  It just hadn't reached the level of S.W.A.T. previously.  Thus her offence became a felony - the big step up from a misdemeanour that you absolutely do not want in South Canada, as she ended up being sentenced to years in prison.

     I guess that solved her parking problem.

Credit Where It's Due

Rather than looking at Mordorvia or Ukraine, let us instead focus the actinic eye of BOOJUM! on Belarus, and it's dictator Lukashenko, whom is commonly known across social media as 'Potato Fuhrer'.  Because Belarus has nothing to export that is more sophisticated than the potato.  Art!

     The question has to be asked, whom is he going to war against?  He's successfully avoided managing to commit his country's armed forces alongside those of Botox Boris, which would have triggered a coup against him, as he was explicitly warned.  Conrad suspects he's still waiting to see who comes out on top, and will then stirringly declare that he was on their side all along.  Whilst keeping a plane loaded with gold bullion ready to depart at short notice.  Orcban The Weretoad being deposed has made allies of Botox Boris a lot more nervous.

Another Very, Very Expensive Mistake

Going back to 1980, and a horrendous drilling versus sub-surface geology and workings issue.   Yes, we are taking the details from a 'Be Amazed' vlog about terrible financial failures, and O boy is this one.  Art!

     You see, Texaco were drilling in Lake Peigneur in November of 1980, just with sketchy knowledge of where the subterranean Diamond Crystal salt mine was located.  In case you are unsure, they were located directly beneath the drilling rig's borehole thanks to not knowing what a left hand was, let alone what it was doing.  Art!

     The drill bit cut through substrate into the mine, meaning there was now a direct link between the lake and the mine, and the lake promptly emigrated into the mine.  Water, lower levels and all that.

     A tug, eleven barges, the drilling rig itself and a small local island ended up disappearing down the borehole.  Incredibly, nobody was killed, which means the good luck at another effed location is already goosed.  It cost the equivalent of $140 million today and may be the embodiment of 'Mine Mine All Mine'.

A Late Entry!

If you are unfamiliar, the winter season in Mordorvia brings along the - how can I put it? - season of sewer ruptures creating impromptu ice-sculptures, as they get gigantic fountains of fecal matter playing o'er the landscape.  All provided for free, as per instructions from Botox Boris about Ruffian infrastructure.  Art!

     Here is one such performing in the suburbs of Barad Duh.  Look on and weep O yeh Western artless goons! and commiserate that you cannot truly appreciate the smell, nor the delicate patter as half a million cubic metres of ordure spoil and spill from the skies.  That was me being poetic.

Are You Sitting Comfortably?

This used to be the broadcast line from 'Listen With Mother' on Radio One so long ago that many of you were not born.   I recast this trope as I put forward another factoid showing that Donold J Trump is rotting apart at the seams.  Art!

     Inevitably this will be blamed on Joe Biden.  Or Bill Clinton.  Or Harry S. Truman.  Whom served his country as an artillery officer in the First Unpleasantness, unlike Billy Bonespurs.

     Come at me Secret Service.

*  Tip of the hat to Ol' Tolky.

Under Cover Of The Night

Bear With Me, It'll Take A Minute

Especially as I have to keep popping downstairs to monitor the chicken kebabs and whether they're cooking properly.  They looked distinctly underdone last time I looked.

     ANYWAY Art!

     Not quite this blog's title but pretty close.  No, we are not going to focus on an obscure Thirties thriller featuring stock actors you've never heard of, it's just I wanted a catchy Primo illo to attract the visitors.  Then again I might have chosen an obscure 2006 romantic thriller - do such things exist? - by Linda Howard.  Art!

     Again, close but no cigar.  There is always a recourse to The Rolling Stones, those cyborg-zombies whom are still going through the motions - because cyborgs are really, really good at replicating the movements - and their track 'Undercover Of The Night' which is, again, close to today's title.

     No, I'm not going to put up an illo of said track, I don't like them very much.  Their film attempts were also way, way feebler than those of The Beatles.  Art!

     From 'Help' with the very delicious - sorry I mean 'very talented actress' Eleanor Bron.

     Where were we?

     O yes!  Darkness and dark deeds.  You see, going back centuries if not millennia, armies in conflict used to employ the hours of darkness to carry out all their logistical functions; resupply with ammunition, rotate out soldiers gong on leave or training or sick, move in food and water, repair field fortifications, control the media, send back administrative data.  Art!

     BECAUSE THEY COULD NOT BE SEEN.

     Up until now.  One hundred and ten years ago, as our predecessors fought on the Somme, both sides would partake in an unofficial truce during the hours of darkness, allowing them to carry out the actions detailed above.  Any bright young spark on either side who decided that they were going to Wage Unmitigated War was rapidly and brutally brought up to speed on how things actually were, not how the print media described.  Yes yes yes, for both sides.  Art!

     These are British paratroopers getting ready to deliver air mail and bad wishes to the Teutons as of 6th June 1944, because once again THEY COULD NOT BE SEEN.  It was dark and they were wearing cam-cream.

     Looking at the Youtuber 'Jake Broe' from which the monochrome above is taken, cheap infra-red vision technology is verrrry widespread, so much so that it is being widely used on Ukrainian drones.  In case you miss my point, it means that the technology has been produced on such a scale that it's now cheap and affordable enough to allocate to individual FPV drones.  YOU WILL BE SEEN.

     The night, it seems, no longer provides cover.

      I shall draw a curtain across what happened to the orcs in the first instance.  Nothing good,  as Jake explains that the Kozaky will call in more drones from across their front lines and assemble in order to disassemble the orcs.

Art!

     A Ruffian 'Tunguska' SAM system, once again recorded in infra-red as proof that the night is no longer any protection, about to become a Transformer.  In this case, into Ruin, whom cost $15 million.  You see - the technical explanation? - the radar 'gates' on this system  are set to 'Narrow', because if they were set to 'Wide' it would pick up not only drones but bird flocks, insect swarms, leaves, dirt, rain,  snow and ground clutter.  Causing so many false alarms that the system would be useless.  Art!

     An oil depot in occupied Luhansk.  The Kozaky drones are able to work out which tanks have content and which do not, and have gone to those with content, which cannot have contented - O do you see wh O you do - the Ruffians.

     

       A chart used as per 'Clement Molin',  an excellent Twitter analyst and provider, whose statistics are enacted above.  Here you can see the dramatic upturn in Kozaky strikes on Ruffian SAM systems, leading to a total of 30 destroyed in April.  These things cost akin $10 million each and are becoming increasingly difficult for the orcs to replace, as they are chock-full of valuable electronics that they cannot easily or quickly replace.

     It gets worse for the orcs.  Art!

     What we have here is an Ukrainian Sky-Sweeping Drone-Malletting Gun Turret System that I shall call 'Spitfire' because I can.  They are currently being deployed on the front lines with the intent of shooting down Ruffian drones, at a fraction of their overall cost, since a burst of 20 mm ammo is a fraction of  fraction of your average Shahed.  Ukraine currently shoots down 90% of the Ruffian drones attacking it's territory, so anything above that is cool - once again, the orcs expend $100 million per night trying to reduce Ukrainian toilet statistics to their own level.  No word of a lie. This may have lead to Putinpot looking to be 103 years old at his Victory Charade as of May 9th.

More Of Nine!

Do not worry, we have a lot more of 'Nine' to come, including one that occurred to me whilst delivering Edna during her trotty quotient.  Art!

     This is 'Doctor TIGER Ninestein'  as of the dramamentary series 'Terrahawks' and whom is one of nine clones whom can be called into action whenever the plot demands it.  As I recall, if one of his clones in leading the fight against extra-terrestrials based on Mars - NAUGHTY NAUGHTY Gerry stealing concepts from 'Captain Scarlet' - is totalled, the next clone can be implanted with his predecessor's knowledge.  Quite a concept.  If only it could be adopted amongst South Canadian manglement!

Establishing Depth

Art!

     What's going on here?  You may well wonder, I did myself after coming across this picture on my list of Bookmarks And Favourites.  Ol' Art and Stanny rather stood out from the crowd, and Deke also stirred a chord.  This is a background publicity shot from 1968 at the MGM studio lot in 1968 during the shooting of "2001: A Space Odyssey" where the studio and scriptwriter were assembling various NASA authorities to see if they were being sufficiently accurate.

     They were.

     In fact they were being so accurate there were conspiracy theories about how Ol' Stanny filmed the -

     Which is another nonsense for another blog.

Now, Speaking Of Sweaty Secondaries

It used to be that South Canadian politicians in the Wizard Lizard Gizzard party who were not fans of Donold Judas Trump did not dare to stand up to him, for Lo! he would turn up at their political location on his personal airplane, and campaign against them.  Which would be political un-alivement.  That, however, was before he began to display symptoms of dementia and utter idleness, becoming more wedded to cheating on a golf-course than wielding political power.  Art!

     He seems to be more focussed on what extras he can ladle onto his burger than anything else, and before he can get out on the course and cheat anyone else.  Who else is up for a round of golf curse*?

This Is How Horror Films Begin

You know, that trope with a telephone call from within the house itself, which cannot occur nowadays given mobile phones and modern digital deviltry, which at least deletes one method of cheap horror film production -

     HOWEVER -'

     See you in September.

*  Did I use 'else' too ofen?  Do let me know!

SISTA and CTOOL (The Repellent Fool!)

Or, Part 2 Of 'MalCom And Bus Factor One'

I shall recap a little, both to educate yourselves, gentle readers, and up the Word Count, for I am a chap of few morals.  'SISTA' is the Solo Integrated Systems Technical Admin, the only IT person working at Move ENhancement logistical brokerage, or MEN.  He had been running IT alone for 7 years before CTOOL arrived.  Technically he was the Chief Technical Officer, but our hilariously satirical acronym is Colossal Twod Of Off-putting Liability, CTOOL hereafter.  Art!

Eighties sci-fi cover vibes

     I put 'CTOOL' in and this is what came out.  Don't blame me.

     After CTOOL proved themselves to know nothing whatsoever about IT, merely spending money to provide their chums with chances to pimp their businesses, he fired SISTA, throwing $5 at him as severance, and hand-writing a note confirming the firing.  Art!

HR react with horror at their legal liability

     Ostensibly, the firing was because SISTA refused to cancel his previously approved Christmas leave.  CTOOL had not run this past HR nor arranged for any transition period, two major omissions that would come back to gnaw on his gluteus maximus later.

     So!  SISTA went home and informed his (absolutely furious!) wife that he was now fired.  They ignored that salient fact and enjoyed their Christmas break out of state at his parent's house with their children.  

     Meanwhile - 

     2 days after his firing, the dispatch server - which I feel like capitalising - the Dispatch Server at MEN crashed, and a self-proclaimed 'PC expert' did a hard reboot of the server, which made things much, much worse.  It needed to run through a specific start-up sequence - which nobody else knew apart from SISTA.  The process had been documented, except PC Expert didn't bother reading the script.  Ooops.  Art!

     Consequentially, the Transport Management System did not work.  When the core part of your business is 'Transport' this is a major flaw.  Next day the E-Mail Server crashed.  You see, SISTA had the passwords and codes to carry out manual maintenance on all MEN systems, and without him there, or any substitute nominated and trained by him to take over, things began to fail.  'Manual' you ask? why yes because CTOOL had refused automated systems as requested by SISTA.

     On day four after his firing, the payroll system collapsed, a week before Christmas.  The tracking portal that allowed customers to follow their cargoes failed.  The MEN phones began to malfunction, because - you may be ahead of me here - their licensing server had been maintained by SISTA, who was no longer present.  Art!

     On day five, the carrier payment files corrupted for 300 carriers, who thus were not getting paid.  EDI - which SISTA had warned was elderly and needed replacing - failed for 3 major clients.  Computers were not talking to other computers, nobody knew what was where or when.

     Then the security system began throwing errors.  Once again, it had been maintained by SISTA until he was fired.  Without maintenance, impossible without the codes he held, the system defaulted to 'Safe' and automatically opened all doors in the warehouse and office complex.   Stock was lost to external theft; not internal as staff knew there was a security camera system in place.

     Ooops.

     By day six of his firing, the Chief Executive Officer, or Number One in MEN, was calling SISTA with increasingly desperate messages.  Whom forwarded them to his employment attorney.  Art!

     This is what happens when you allow an unqualified, inexperienced amateur to interfere with critical systems and whom thinks buzzwords and Powerpoints are the way forward.

     CTOOL retained an emergency IT company to come and save the day.  They charged $50,000 to just look at the problem and would take at least two weeks to fix it.  How's that getting rid of SISTA going, CTOOL?  And did we ever find out why your previous start-up collapsed?

     What happened next is that costs escalate as penalty clauses from carriers are activated, and the failure to pay staff turns into a State Labour Board complaint.  MEN suffers $300,000 in direct losses and $200,000 in indirect losses.  Art!

     I swear down, this is 'State Labour Board' as per AI Art Generator.

     The CEO, by now realising that his buddy-hire CTO is more toxic that a plutonium enema, calls an emergency meeting of the board, investors and owners.  They review CTO's documentation and e-mail trail as provided by SISTA, deciding that they are responsible and fire them on the spot.

     Coda One: after enjoying their Christmas holiday, SISTA arrives back and solves all the problems in 2 days.

     Coda Two: CTOOL tried to fight the sacking.  Their attorney looked at the document trail and told them to walk away.

     Coda Three: CTOOL is now doing 'sales consulting', or in plain English is unemployed and pretending not to be.  Running up a $500,000 debt at your previous employer will do that.

     

Magyarking

I apologise for those amongst you who neither recognise British slang or the Hungarian for 'Hungary', which is 'Magyar; and our native British sentiment of 'complaining loudly' a.k.a. 'yarking'.  Art!

     This is the incoming Minister of Health, who does a splendid dance across the stage when Peter Magyar gotten sworn in as Prime Minister.  The vatniks are horrified at his cavalier attitude.  As others have observed, the number of vatniks squawking across Europe has abruptly fallen since Loser Orban got ousted, making it possible that Hungary was their entrepot into Europe.  

     We can thank J D 'Judge Death' Vance for 'helping' here, as everything he touches, includrump-friendly European nations, dies on contact.  The political equivalent of 'Roundup'.

     

Is This A 'What On Earth'?

For reasons that escape me, Facebook continues to promote guff that I do not want nor have any ever wanted to own.  I've already commented on 'Portable Lumber Mills' and 'Log-counting software' and now we have - Art!

     I think they like to reprint novels with a slip-case, so that suckers will pay $75 per volume.  Not quite sure what's going on here, apart from matey not being able to bring his overdue library books back again.  Yes, I have read it, ages ago, and in fact it may be time to order a cheap paperback copy from Abebooks, because PKD's works do not end up on the shelves in charity shops.

Progress Report

Just to let you know that I'm about 1/3 of the way through 'The Chieftain's 'Myths Of American Armour' vlog from 2015 that I've threatened you with before.  It looks like being a long enough annotation to make up a BOOJUM! and a half, so it will probably get split up into bits.  Too much of a good thing and all that.  Art!

     Mr. Moran in person.  How he contorted his 6' 4" frame into an M1 I have no idea, still less how he managed it for other older tanks for his 'O No The Tank Is On Fire' emergency evacuation drill.

This Is Definitely A What On Earth

On occasion Your Humble Scribe's brain will function as it's supposed to, despite age and gin, and I remember to get evidence of WOE.  Art!

     What the Devil's Dog Buns is this supposed to be advertising?  Is 'Immunogenicity' a real word?  What about 'mNEXSPIKE'?  Why is it mostly capitalised?  Are they trying to sell me something or just provoke a scare?

     What on earth indeed.  Bah!

Finally -

Going out with a Biercism.

"Prescription,n: A death warrant."