Bread And Circuses

I'm Sure You're Already Ahead Of Me Here*
The Roman Empire used to divert it's citizens with both of the above, on the sensible theme that if your citizenry are fat and happy, then they are far less likely to countenance revolution.  Bored and hungry is a dangerous combination, unless you live in North Korea, where it's been a way of life for generations.
     "Conrad!" I hear you protest.  "That borders on Politics!"
     Actually it doesn't because it's so old, so there.  Besides, whose blog is it?
     Back to the matter in hand.  You don't mind, do you?  Thank you - thank you so much.
     Okay, we are once again dealing in metaphors, one of Conrad's very favourite things, only coming a near-third after ice cream and money.  The "Bread" here refers to food, in general, whilst the "Circuses" refers to entertainment, and both apply to Edna, whom you hopefully aren't fed up of hearing about.
     Food first.  I have a "Before" photo of the slow-cooker casserole I started at 1 p.m. this afternoon:

     I then had to abandon Edna, in order to go get essential supplies from the Co-Op in Royton - bread, onions, four packets of sweets on a reduced offer - but I made it up afterwards with a trip to Tandle Hill Park, going off on the left hand side rather than the main entrance.  Art?

Doubtless sniffing what she shouldn't.

     We then got into woodland, where she was allowed to roam off the lead until another dog hied into sight -

Definitely sniffing what she shouldn't

     Then it was off to sit on a bench - your humble scribe, not Edna - and allow a bit of off the lead romping.  Edna still fails to grasp the concept of "Fetch", as proven here:

Sad, lonely, languishing ball.

     She rarely ventures far, all the more so if she suspects (or smells) that your modest artisan is hoarding treats in his pockets.
     Once back home it was time to make notes, read and watch more "Houdini and Doyle", of which more later, and then to take up the spoon and stir that casserole.  Art?

     This will soon be gracing the insides of your talented typist.  Whilst on the subject of "Bread", let us look at Edna's approach to food:

Her bowl

 - mere seconds after getting it set down before her.  Whereas Jenny the Cyborg Sentry Cat has a different method:

Her bowl

     She will sneak back to this and eat it, slowly, over the rest of the afternoon.
     Right!  Let the motley begin!

"Doctor Strangelove" And How Conrad Got The Better Of Stan**
Yes, I am rather flogging this horse, however since it is sprightly and jaunty and capable of a still substantial workload, I shall keep on at it.  Metaphorical flogging, I would like to remind you, as otherwise a certain Anna will be on my case, and she really can be the tungsten-alloyed fist in the Belgian lace glove.
     Where was I?
     Oh yes.  There are several shot of the thermonuclear bombs carried as payload in Major Kong's rogue B52 bomber, to which I append:

Here we are.

     And let me also add a screenshot that I took that illustrates a point:

Check out the upper section

     Now, as you surely know already, Conrad has a worrying familiarity with nuclear and thermonuclear weapons, and these "bombs" don't look like any species of ordnance ever used by the USAF, and as evidence please see below:

A B53.  Which would make a superior name for a pop group, non?

     The bomb above looks like a bomb.  Having examined the Strangelove version, Conrad is of the opinion that the designer has taken an Intermediate Range Ballistic Missile and added fins to create a fictional 20 Megaton bomb.  The low ogive (i.e. not-very-pointed) of the nosecone, visible in photo one, recalls that of the Thor IRBM; also note the cut-outs on the surface of "Hi There!" as Major Kong rides it down to impact.  Utterly impractical in a bomb, but de rigeur in a multi-stage missile.
     So, Stan, caught you out twice!

An RAF Thor, back in the day when we had IRBM's to chuck around

Ah, Taunt Me Why Don't You
As you have hopefully gathered, even if you don't read the blog religiously day in day out - which is essential for self-preservation once my starship invasion fleet gets here - Conrad is going sober for April.  So far so good, not even a sniff of alcohol in just over three weeks.  This kind of "Suggested Post" doesn't help, however - 

Wells wells wells.
(Many wells make a river)

     6 p.m. on Saturday 30th April grows ever closer.  Not that I'm counting or anything.

Finally
I do apologise about no "Houdini and Doyle", but we're up against the word limit already, which I didn't expect quite so soon - only been typing for 40 minutes.  Tomorrow, for certain.
     As a Parthian shot, allow me to post this charming picture of Edna:

     The first time she's ever used this bed that I keep in the Upstairs Lair specifically so she can use it.  First time ever.  And it was only for ten minutes whilst I re-posted a link to the blog.

Pip Pip!

*  Then again you may not be, as I'm frightfully clever.
** He may be the man but he's only human.