Skal!

"Cheers!" In Norwegian
Why?  Why not!  And, it's my blog, remember?
     We are here today to give a big hand to the Forsvarets Spesialkommando, those little-known Norwegian warriors who have inherited the Viking tradition of their forebears.  
     Well, actually that's a little imprecise.  
     Okay, a lot imprecise.
     Okay, okay, the "Viking" stuff is complete nonsense. These chaps are the land-forces arm of the Kingdom Of Norway's Special Forces.
     Surprise!  You didn't know it was a monarchy, did you?  
     Oh and that Special Forces stuff, either.  Unsurprising.  They didn't officially exist until 2000 A.D.  They have cropped up around the world in various conflicts, keeping a very low profile indeed.  They cross-train with the UK's Special Boat Service, in order to protect all those oil rigs out in the North Sea.

Hop, skip and jump

     As you can see, Norwegians are tall and handsome, and since Conrad is 1/16 Norwegian, it's obvious where his looks come from as well.  Given his age he probably can't fly over a fence like the chap above, but the spirit is there ...

First Bus
There is a saying - "There are lies, damned lies - and statistics".  Very true.  Conrad would like to amend this to: "There are lies, damned lies, statistics - and First Bus timetables."
     Allow me to present the evidence:

Note the upper right.  The upper right LIES!  LIES I TELL YOU!

     Conrad went out to catch the 409 with a good five minutes to spare.  The 20 minutes past bus did not turn up.  Nor did the 36 minutes past bus.  Nor the 51 minutes past bus.  Then two First Buses did turn up - both with "Sorry Not In Service", which went sailing past the bus stop.
     Grateful that it was a fantastically balmy day for the 1st of November, Conrad walked into Royton, getting passed by another "Sorry Not In Service" en route.
     I suggest that First amend their vehicular notation from "Public Service Vehicle" to merely "Vehicle", as their pamphlet above is clearly lying.  Lying through it's hideously-tinted teeth.
     Also, I feel another letter of complaint coming on.  First Bus admin staff, you have been warned!

"Piccadilly Jim" By P.G. Wodehouse
Really, given that Wonder Wifey got me these -

Propelling pencil with spare leads

     I should be creating a sketch-map of the plot of this novel.  It was written by Plum in 1917, although he has carefully excluded any mention of dates in the text, and although it begins in beautiful sunny Britain - with no mention of the First Unpleasantness - it rapidly transfers to New York.
     Let me recapitulate to see if my calcined brain is up to speed:  You have Jimmy Crocker, the "Piccadilly Jim" of the title, back in New York, pretending to be Jimmy Crocker, when people think he is the son of Bayliss the butler.  There is his dad, pretending to be Skinner the butler - I confess I've forgotten why this is happening - and there's the impostor Lord Wisbeach, not to mention Nesta Pett, who thinks Jimmy is plotting to either steal her son, the loathsome Ogden, or a new secret explosive that one of her proteges has invented.  She isn't wrong about Ogden being under threat, although that comes from the quarter of Ann and Jerry, although since Jerry has been sacked it now seems down to Ann.  And Jimmy, whom she hates, although having never met him in person -
     Does this make sense?  It gets more complex by the chapter.  Read this and never underestimate the calculated intellect of good old P.G.

"Where Eagles Dare"
Ahem, and also ahum.  I broke my alcohol fast last night and attempted to play the WED drinking game.  I only lasted 49 minutes and even then had to stop or would have been slumped comatose on the settee trying to make sense of Doctor Who.
     Although my Film Critic Film Pedant sense did survive the Old Golden Hen, thus I made notes about what did not make sense on screen.
     1)  The parachute drop into Austria - done in camouflage suits and camouflage parachutes from a camouflaged airplane, yet with BRIGHT SHINY METAL containers that could have been seen a mile away.

     2)  "The snow will cover him," said of the first dead character.  There is NO SNOW blowing around to cover anyone!  None!  No snow!

    3)  This is a high Alpine pasture, deserted from October to April.  Therefore, the captured American general cannot give away valuable D-Day data as it is still at least three months away, possibly even nine.

     4)  Trails in the snow.  I think we're seeing the marks left by crew as well as cast, and a more canny director or Director of Photography would have arranged to film from a different angle, hiding the evidence.

Look to the left, where the pristine untouched unsullied snow is - no longer virginal

     5)   "WERFEN" the railway sign, is written in Fraktur.  Despite what you may have seen, this (incredibly awkward!) handwriting/font/typeface was abandoned by Nazi Germany in 1941 as it had distinctly Jewish roots.

     That's all I've got so far, there will doubtless be more to come.

     Ha Det!
    ("Goodbye!" in Norwegian)