He will be running Wonder Wifey to Manchester Airport, from whence she will thence fly to Heathrow, from thence to Fort Lauderdale and thence - I haven't lost you, have I? - to Fort Lauderdale, there to board a big ship which will tootle around the Caribbean, for two weeks.
I know, poor devil. One's heart* bleeds for her.
 |
| Crews Grip. Close enough |
J W Lees: A Theme
Conrad passes this building every day on his no-longer less-trafficked route to work. It's a splendid old Victorian brewery that simply oozes character, unlike the Interbrew Mass Fluid Processing Plant in Hulme, which has all the character of an oil refinery. A boring oil refinery.
| Those chutes used to have flashing lights on. To stop loading lorries from hitting them |
By coincidence, Conrad used to work with Anna, whose husband was a manager there. If you write in politely, the brewery will invite you in on a guided tour, with beer supplied, allowing you to go home like a sewing-machine - well-oiled.
The Halfway House, pub of choice for pub quiz, retails Lees' beers, as witness:
| "Manchester Pale Ale" unfortunately only a guest beer, as it was very nice indeed. |
One thing Conrad finds peculiar about Lees is their use of slogans for publicity, quoting Oscar Wilde:"Always be a first rate version of yourself. Not a second-rate version of someone else", and Jim Morrison:"A friend is someone who gives you perfect freedom to be yourself", and one that I didn't get time to note down this morning**.
Somewhat intellectual, non? I suppose they seem even more profound if you've wrapped yourself around a few MPAs.
Take A Bow Mr Phelps
After a little prodding from Mr Kerry, Mr Conrad presents a joke repeatable in genteel company:
Q) What did the slug say to the snail?
A) Big Issue, mate?
I am going to assume you understand that, because explaining it would kill teh funneh.
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| Apparently slugs come in cyborg form, too. Beware John Connor! |
Supermarket Oxymoron
Conrad, doing the weekly chore - which is NOT a leisure activity! - spotted this labelling on the shelves of a certain anonymous supermarket:
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| Er - yes - almost anonymous. |
"Pure Clear Honey". Quite so. Is it labelled thus to differentiate it from all the jars of branded and non-branded "Disgusting Clear Honey"? What about set honey? "So Filthy It's Gone Solid Honey"?
What's This?
 |
| It's not a UFO - there are wires there, if you squint reallly hard |
I've no idea. It did provide a moment of wonder on the walk in to the office. Economy-sized dreamcatcher? Inefficient bird-trap? Makes cool sounds when it's windy?
That's Quite Enough Of That!
The "that" in question being a series of hideous bus-stop adverts by Ladbrokes, the only betting chain with a warning built-into their name.
The text is about as trite as trite can be, and although BOOJUM! does not countenance swearing, they do have the artistic integrity of something that also rhymes with "trite". An example: "When you win, it's skill. When you lose it's bad luck."***
Conrad has Googled vainly to see if he can provide you with the ghastly red-and-black Primary Schoolbook Art posters - none to be found on teh interwebz, so maybe the folks at Ladbrokes don't want these specimens to get too widely known.
They are horrid, though. Hmm. Perhaps Coral and Betfred got together and put them up?
| This is still nicer than those posters. Trust me on this. |
* If by "heart" one means a fusion-battery powered ceramic pumping unit
** I was driving, okay, and needed hands on the wheel.
*** Conrad is oh-so-tempted to break his rules about current affairs and swearing ...
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