How To Train Your Flagon

Or Bottle.  I Mean, They Both Contain Liquids, Right?
If you know Conrad at all by now, and after sharing my innermost thoughts on everything from Atropine to Zerzuera you should do, then you know I am a chilly individual.  Literally.  I like it cold.  A nice balmy 12 Degrees would suit me down to the ground, but the delicate hothouse orchids disguised as work colleagues whine about "hypothermia" and "loss of circulation", the namby-pambies.    
     To this end I always take a bottle of ice into work with me, which thaws over the day and allows me to chug water at just above freezing point.  Here is the villain of the piece:

Bottle, one of

     It should fit neatly into the side-pocket of Sheridan the Screaming Skull, but for some reason it has been jibbing at this neat and efficient arrangement. Thus -

Unfit bottle

     "PINAPPLE TIN!" shrieked Conrad.  In his head - don't want to alarm the folks sitting shivering behind me*.  I then made the bottle fit by dint of a little physical effort -

Conrad - forcing the fit.

     That's a solid hardback book which weighs in at about a kilo.  The bottle has now learnt it's lesson.

Chastened!

     I may have to explain "PINAPPLE TIN!" to you at a later date.  It's a long story.

You What?
Once again Conrad wass assailed by a puzzling bus poster, one that whizzed by in the baleful barely-light of this morning at 7:10 a.m.

  "DISCOVER SMOOTH MOUSSE" 

      - it declared, boldly, to the world at large.
     There didn't seem to be an illustration to go with this effusive declaration, so Conrad was left frowning in confusion.
     What kind of mousse do they mean?  One that women slap on their face before hoiking an ankle around the clubs with gay abandon?

Gay, straight, we don't mind which abandon

     Or is it some awful chemical concoction masquerading as a dessert, that could equally be applied to the female face?

Chocolate.  It has a lot to answer for.

     ADVERT FAIL!  gloats Conrad, even if he's not that bothered which alternative it is, as he is never going to put on make up or eat Choco-slop-in-a-pot.

Then again, it might be the kind that you track through the forests of British Columbia?

"The Inimitable Jeeves"
Just to keep you up to date on my reading material, I'm reading this for the second time.  I don't remember a thing about it, which means rediscovering it all over again.  The slang in it can be a bit impenetrable, as it was written in 1923, ninety-two years ago, and hence Google and Wiki may not be able to explicate all satisfactorily.  As an example, I remember that a "whangee" was a type of cane walking-stick, made of the bole of the whangee tree.  "Limado" is much harder to define.  It's a drink, with bubbles, and that's all I can get from the context.  Then there was mention of "Old Home Week in Moscow", an allusion to Tom Traver's stomach.  "Old Home Week" is an American institution, whereby the far-flung alumni of a town are invited back for a great big ceremonial blow-out.  Quite how this fits in with the rambunctious Slavs of the steppe lands is open to question.

There will now be a brief interregnum** as I go and get another giant cup of Russian Caravan Tea.

The Amazing Expanding Confetti Cookies
Last night I baked a batch of these cookies, whose secret ingredient is crushed peanut M & M's, done with gluten-free flour.  The dough is not difficult to make, especially if you happen to have a couple of pounds of crushed M & M's, as Conrad did.
     No, what's difficult is the bake.  I tried to used small amounts of dough and the result was this:

     A single giant rectangular cookie.  Those with sharp eyes may be able to delineate*** where the edges are were and thus where Conrad sliced the cookie up.  Sorry, I think that should be "COOKIE".
     So for the next batch I make the balls of dough a lot smaller and the result was this:

Yes I am cheating with the photos.  Whose blog is it?

     Another giant - another COOKIE.  Gnashing my incisors with rage, I baked another batch, with even smaller balls of dough, and the result was this:

Still cheating!

    Yet another COOKIE, but because there was so little dough, they were all very friable and brittle, which meant the hour and a half journey into the Electric Goldfish Bowl created a cataclysm of crumbs.
     But they tasted nice.

What's In A Name?
Once again the evil, analytical eye of Conrad focusses upon current film and Blu Ray releases, all the better to pun-ish them^.

THE FAST PITCH HUNTER: "He's going to soccer it to them."

SIC-A-RIOT: "In American, it means "Partaaaaaay!"

PAN: "It's hot stuff!"

INSIDIOUS: <shortly to be sued under the Trades Description Act>

THE LOBSTER: transforms into BEASTS OF NO NATION^^

And at less than sixty minutes we're well over the word limit.  And I still haven't explained "PINEAPPLE TIN!" - and how it relates to the -

 - maybe tomorrow.



*Either fear or cold. Possibly both.  I'd settle for either.
** "Pause" - translation to English courtesy Mister Hand.
*** "See" - translation to English courtesy Mister Hand.
^ Do you see what I did the - O you do.
^^ Possibly I'm being too clever here.