A Bit Of A Mish-Mash -

Tee Hee!
That's the first pun of the night before the blog even begins.  Don't worry, it'll make sense later.
     Actually it can make sense now.
     I picked up the Co-Op's winter pamphlet in Royton at the weekend, and it has lots of interesting recipes in there, including one for Gluten Free Saint Clement's Cake

    - excuse me, I'm just off to get another cup of Russian Caravan Tea - 

     aaand we're back.  With the tea, which would go down very well with the cake.  It's made with ground almonds, as quite a few GF cakes are, and also with mashed potatoes, which is rather unusual.  Just plain mash, nothing added, which really means a great big dollop of starch.

     Since the middle sank Conrad had to slice it up to see if it was edible; the answer is "yes" as approved by Wonder Wifey, but it also means I couldn't make the syrup to pour on the whole cake.  Maybe tomorrow.

Go And No Snow
Allow Conrad to demonstrate what weather conditions were like at the bus-stop this morning at 7:12 a.m.

My footprints on the right
"Small" and "balletic" are so inappropriate, aren't they?

     Yet when I arrived in Manchester, not a snowflake to be seen.  Rain and puddles, oh yes, no lack of them, but no snow.  Then later that morning when it did snow, did it stick?  No, not at all.  By the time Conrad left work it was merely raining.
     Manchester: sucking all the enjoyment out of Winter.

Honey: A Challenge
Whilst poking around for Cream of Tartar* last night, I rediscovered this jar of cheapo honey:

Crusty and crystallised - only the best for Conrad!

     The Best By date is 2016 so it's obviously safe to eat, although it must have been sitting in the cupboard for months and months.  Tomorrow we will see what it tastes like!

The Daily Ritual Humiliation Of Star Trek: The Next Generation
Again, no worryingly intense comments in the Comments section.  No fresh comments in the Comments section for many many months, in fact.  Am I being too abstruse?  Possibly so - I'll add in the original title so you can extra-specially get the joke.

The Spring  (The Offspring)

Bins of the Fathers (Sins of the Fathers)

Tint Man (Tin Man)

Hollow Suits (Hollow Pursuits)

Transwigurations (Transfigurations)

Bothers (Brothers)

Remember Mel (can't remember what the proper title is, ironically)

I think there's mileage in that "Sins of the Fathers" one, and the "Transwigurations" one had me snorting in amusement.

Coincidence Or Not?  Only You Can Tell!
If you've been reading the blog this week then you will - you have been reading it, haven't you? - recall me banging on about the South African group "Die Antwoort", and posting - look, I don't want to labour the point but you'd better be reading it - links to one of their songs thanks to the intervention of Mister Hand.  
     Something about the name - BECAUSE READING BOOJUM! IS THE ONLY WAY TO EARN SURVIVAL BROWNIE POINTS! - niggled my mind and this morning I remembered what:
     "FP Ein Antwortet Nicht"
     "FP One Does Not Answer" in German.

Validated!

     Made in 1932 in Germany, "FP1" is a giant floating platform in mid-Atlantic that allows planes to land and refuel, enabling trans-Atlantic flight.  I remember reading about it in the Encyclopedia of Science Fiction in 1987.

"Tendentious"
I am punnish about the Hunnish but decline to punish when they're gunnish.
     Which is an example of being tendentious - promoting a particular point of view, especially a controversial one.
     Where does it come from?
     Aptly enough, from German: Tendenzios.

O Noes!  What If - 
Paddington Bear had been taken up into the arms of the Brown family, not at the station we all love and know him by, but instead at the Elephant and Castle station?


Be Careful What You Wish For ...
As seen in the Fly-Swatter Times**, a houseowner who had constructed a replica of the Tracey Island residence has sold it on, for £1.9 million.

I dunno.  It doesn't have a sea view.  Nor a spacecraft launch-pad

     Which is how much it cost him to build it.

You might think this is skating dangerously close to Currant Affairs***, but - let me remind you who's blog it is again MINE MINE MINE!^ - it actually leads into an article about -

Gerry Anderson Ergonomics: The Secret Pain Of Virgil Tracy
Let's face it, if you're one of the Tracy lads, then those who get the most kudos are the jet jockeys Scott and Gordon.  More so Scott as Thunderbird One gets called out more often, and a metal bird that can do Mach 25 is indeed a nice piece of kit.
     Have some sympathy for Virgil, then, who is essentially piloting a flying truck.  Which girl wants to know a modular-load lorry driver when there's a chap with a sportscar in the offing?
     I suspect Virgil drowns his sorrows when he's off-duty, all the more so as the evidence is right there in the method he uses to board TB2 - he's not trusted to remain upright and instead gets practically poured into the cockpit by lying down on a travel tube.

"Hey - what happened to my cocktail?"

     He then gets deposited into the cockpit of TB2:

"A bit glassy-eyed, Virgil kept the speed under 900 m.p.h. ..."

     The really tricky bit of flying TB2, however, is landing it.  However, after a couple of hours in the air and an oxygen mask, Virgil is probably nearly sober by then:

Er - then again ...

Finally
Conrad under attack by a flock of wild socks:

Don't laugh, they can be dangerous in large numbers.

* Which isn't a cream and contains no Tartars.  No Tadjiks or Turkmens, either.
** The Metro, of course.  What else?

*** Sorry, still thinking about the cake.
^ Just so we're clear here.