Jolly Jamboreeing Gerboas! Jolly Jamboreeing Gerboas!

I Think It's Pronounced With A "J"
You may be wondering why today's blog opens with as innocent, not to say vapid, a title as possible.
     I'm so glad you asked!
     The Charm Offensive is still being promoted, you see, so no mention of atomic b - atomic foofoodillies, armoured fighting vehicles, knocking the bejesus out of the Moon with atomic foofoodillies, the walking dead, and there was a fifth item I've forgotten about so it can't be very important.
     I was reminded, as if I need to be, that the various intelligence agencies across the Northern Hemisphere are still keeping a watch on the Mansion, on Conrad, and on what he posts.  I did mention that the winter-skilled Czech Military Intelligence had been brought in specially over the snowy weekend, didn't I*?  As predicted there were footprints on the snowy roof last night, including a few going up the side of the chimney.  Thank you Vojenské Zpravodajství**!  Sneaky and immune to gravity.
     So, rather than have as today's title "Agonizing Torment - The Game!" I thought it best to waylay suspicions with those gerboas.

Agonizing Torment - The Game!
Go on, admit it, you're curious.  Possibly a little worried, but also curious.  
     Don't worry, the game as mentioned is purely dice-and-paper and no team leaders or managers were harmed in the creation of this blog.  Neither were they charmed, romanced, feted or flattered, for the record.  Impartial hatred, that's us.  Anyway, the game.
     First we take a named individual - let's call them Cecil as Conrad doesn't know any Cecils - and we nominate various body parts of Cecil numbered from 1 to 6.  Head, torso, left arm, right arm, left leg, right leg.  You can further sub-divide these by six again if you're feeling clever and vindictive: for example; Head: left eye, right eye, nose, mouth, left ear, right ear.

Sisal.  Close enough.

     Then comes the creative bit - The Method.  Again in units of six, as six-sided dice are the most common type, or if you have the resources of a Conrad, a ten-sided dice, thus:
     Vegetable peeler; lump hammer; staple gun; citric acid; angry porcupine; hot glue gun; rat-trap; live eels; knotted rope; feather boa.

The poor, mutilated carcass of Sisal.

     Then you roll for Cecil and see how long you can keep the wretch alive.
     Of course this is a TERRIBLE, highly-objectionable idea, in the worst possible taste.  It does let us mere cogs in the machine work off a bit of bitchiness and, whilst we're playing the game, nobody's getting assassinated.  Made up of win!

    Still, just in case - Positively playful platypii!  Positively playful platypii!

Sorry, only one platypus at a time

Sophie's Choice
No, not that Sophie, this Sophie.  Do keep up!  She really liked the Chocolate Orange cake of Friday last, so your modest artisan was going to FaceBook the recipe via photo, except there were several wrinkles not present on the printed page that needed to be passed on.  

You may copy if you wish

So, I wrote it out.  This means a test drive of the words for Sophie, as Conrad's handwriting does tend to the etiolated spindle variety.  Spidery for the non-poetic amongst you.

Vital extra wrinkles added

     Fortunately young Sophie is widely-read in Raw Scrivel and made out the instructions in less than forty minutes, something of a record.

The Cat, Frankly, Mucked About
There is that old saw, "The cat sat on the mat" which Conrad boldly asserts dates from before William Caxton and the printing press.  Only after this date were books in plentiful supply, you see, so that cats could sit on them.  

     Here is Jenny, for once not sitting on books but instead practicing pen-fu WITH MY PENS!
     As you know by now, Conrad is not especially materialistic or possessive, with the sole exception of his pens.  I rescued my babies from the above monster, don't you worry.

Fame At Last!
"Crisis Point" is an annual event my friend Richard holds in April at the local primary school in Dungworth, and if Conrad is together enough, why he provides cake.
     The fictional venue is frequently Andreivia, a former Soviet republic that has a frontage on the Black Sea, lowlands extending into the interior and heavily-wooded mountains.  

Never mind the trifling Trident SLBM, - Crisis Point!

     It's an unquiet place, with the Government, Armenian militia, Turkish militia and local mujaheddin all fighting each other, separately or in combination, plus NATO and Russia ever-ready on the sidelines, just waiting for an excuse to send a task force in.  Oh - that police car at right of picture?  Helping the Andreivian Eurovision team to escape the fighting.

It may amuse you to know that the Czech for "Check" is "Kontrol" - check here in the sense of analysing something.

Another kind of check

     And the Czech for this kind of checkered pattern is "Bavleny Odev".  So, somewhere in Prague there is a quality controller conducting Kontrol on Bavleny Odev.

And with that I bid you Dobrou noc***!



* The Russians from the FSB had been to a party on Friday, and were hors de combat.
** Czech for "Military Intelligence"
*** Czech for "Good Night"