A Roma

But First -
Since we are smuggling a visual pun by the ceaselessly vigilant Hamster armies of watchmen, we need to distract them with a bit of - I'm not going to call it nonsense, as that invites abuse - we shall call it "scrivel", a portmanteau word combining "scribble" and "drivel"*.
     So - what was behind Door Number Seventeen on the Doctor Who Advent Calendar?
     One of those Silence chaps.  You know -

The Silence.  Simply shocking!

     With hilarious irony I had to look up their description last time, but old Conrad ain't been caught out a second time!

"Exodus - Gods and Kings"
Ah, thank you Muse of the travelling bus poster.  Another film title to review the BOOJUM! way - arbitrarily, without looking at IMDB and with ludicrous literalness.
     I seem to recall seeing a trailer when I watched either "Fury" or "Interstellar", all on a very grand scale.  You can tell this is going to be epic, and if it features chariots we might dub it a traffic epic, and if it's set in Egypt then you can invoke a little of their culture and call it a canopic traffic epic.
     No modesty in the title, either, is there?  "Gods and Kings", except it should probably shout "GODS AND KINGS" like that, loudly.  Yes, gentle reader, you are going to see a film that features Important People, not rubbishy plebs like you, me and the plumber.

Close enough.

"Dumb and Dumber To"
I know, I know, it's a deliberate spelling error but it still gives Conrad** a nasty spasm in his glands.
     Conrad liked the original, featuring Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels as unreconstructed idiots, good-natured idiots I give you, but idiots nevertheless.  They were as stupid at the end of the film as at the beginning, which is something of a risk for the screenwriters as audiences, and yet more so the Hollywood suits, like to see people develop.
     It's also rather brave of Mr Carrey, one of the more successful actors in Hollywood, to take on a role where he resembles a human wearing sausage for brains.  It's hard to look glamorous with streams of snot dangling down your nose.
     Oh, the plot?  No idea - this is BOOJUM!, don't expect logic or reasoning!

Who can not fail to watch this and wince in sympathy?

Here an aside.  On the way home last night I purchased a pair of cheap earphones from that shop selling all the DVDs and electronic stuff, sorry no idea what it's called (I only pass it every night on the way home) thus:

Ear they are

     Only cheap ones as the attrition rate for my earphones is very high, so I don't feel like spending folding money on kit that the cat will chew up or which my giant and ungainly fingers will crush, crash or otherwise entrash.

"Orlop"
I should have a paragraph set up in advance that I can use to preface a post like this.
     "Conrad apologises for Conrad's brain, short-term memory and long-term memory, and has no logical explanation as to why this word/phrase/sentence has come to the fore.  Let us now move on and address the issue."
     This word "Orlop" has been bouncing off the boundaries of my brain like a neurological version of "Pong".  What was it?  I had vague recollections of a nautical connection and when I looked it up today - surprise!  It was about chaffinch-breeding.
     No, I'm lying, it did have a nautical connection.  The "Orlop Deck" is the lowest deck in a ship, usually where the cables and ropes are stored.
     That's a bit dull, isn't it?  The chaffinch-breeding sounded better.

"Breed!  Breed, I tell you!  Or - or - or I''ll strangle you, or lop off your wings."

A Roma
Yes indeed.  Today was Big Buffet day at work, and there were tables (plural) laid out with all manner of things to eat.  Not necessarily good for you, but good to eat.  
     Let me illustrate:

Located handily right next to Conrad

     Of course, all this stuff laid out generated quite the assembly of scents.
     Quite an aRoma, you might say ...

"Claudius The God": The Druid's Challenge
As a result of the inordinate difficulty that First Buses have in negotiating traffic, a process their route-planners seem to regard with all the superstitious awe of pagan idolators, Conrad has been cracking on apace with this novel, and came across a description by Claudius of the steps needed to be passed in order to ascend to the higher levels of the Druids.

Drood.  Close enough.

     The candidate would be instantly killed if he failed the test, which is quite a motivator to succeed.  And the test?
     The candidate had to lie overnight in a box filled with cold water, only his nostrils projecting above the surface, with his chest weighed down with stones.  He could get out at dawn.
     Ah, but that's not the hard part!  Overnight he had to compose an epic poem on a subject chosen before he lay down, and when he got out of the box, he had to recite this poem without fault and in the appropriate metre.
     If he failed - instant execution.
     O, if only those loathsome reality television music shows had adopted such a winnowing approach!

X Factor.  The failed auditions.

     I mention the Druid's challenge because I have one of my own to overcome - a leaving pome*** for Lauren.  Fortunately the sanctions for failure are not quite as severe, but I shall have to be on my mettle.


* I've used it before, yes, but since I am sinfully proud of it, here it is again.
** Winner of the "Spelling Nazi Palm D'Pedant" three years in succession.
*** A deliberate mis-spelling, dear reader