There Was A Woman Who Married A Tree ...

Don't Worry, All S.F.W.
No!  Nothing to so with the "Science Fiction Writer'sworkshop*", if that's even a thing.  "Safe For Work" meaning that you can proudly display BOOJUM! on your workstation's monitor without fear of IT prowling around in the background with Surf Patrol, and the excuse that "it's a swimsuit website" need never be mentioned.  Only at lunchtime and approved break sessions, of course - Conrad doesn't want you catching a P45 by return post.

Colt 45.  Close enough

     Anyway, descending into the depths of bloggoreah, I would point you at yesterday's post about "A woman who married a ship" - and I was going to put a link in here except I can't find the damn post, so just go back and revisit all of May's.  After Sophie's conversation about a lady who married a ship, Catherine added another about a woman who married a tree.  
     If you know Conrad at all by now, you know this is sending him a written invitation with the acceptance already filled-in and a taxi booked to get to the club.  So I muttered to Tom:

"Married a tree - it's beyond beleaf!"

"Married a tree - she must be barking!"

"Married a tree - it must be a joak!"

     With uncharacteristic mercy, I shall take pity on you and stop there.

Silence In The Room For The JB2 LOON
There is a gap in Conrad's admittedly sketchy and non-comprehensive mental library of missiles, and that gap goes under the names of "JB2" - which stands for "Jet Bomb 2" and LOON.
     This was a South Canadian copy of the infamous German V1 flying bomb, and was actually ready for use before the war in Europe ended, although the Allied air forces didn't end up using them.  One can only speculate what bewildered German citizens would have thought on hearing the ugly farting noise of a V1 over Germany ...

Daddeh

     Produced in scads, the war in Japan also ended before they got a chance to be used in the invasion of the Japanese home islands.  They went on to have a substantial life as test vehicles, developing other cruise missile systems.  They were also used aboard US submarines.
     "How?  How!  Tell us, Conrad, for we thirst to know!" I hear you call, and I think the drooling anticipation is laid on a little too thick.  
     Okay, the LOON was stuck in a tin can.  Folded up a bit to make it easier to handle, it was still stuck in a big tin can.  Once opened up with the world's biggest ring-pull, the LOON was popped off the sub via a RATO and presto!  Someone was in for a bad hair day.  Art?

"Rocket Assisted Take Off" since you ask.

     One appreciates that the US Navy never proceeded with the nomenclature behind this missile, else we might have seen the WAZZER, NUMPTY or DIVVIE in service, which - well, it's not going to put off the Sinisters, is it?

"Houdini And Doyle: Necronomicon"
Ah, this is more like it!  Conrad is fond of his electro-mechanical gadgetry - see under SAGE and Montauk radar base - and this episode centres around the same, which is far better than a load of proto-Goths wandering about in an untidy cemetery being all emo and shizzle.
     Anyway, the "Necrophone", an invention by Thomas Edison, a device for eavesdropping on the dead, and even perhaps having a chat with them.

As designed for H & D

     Here an aside.  Conrad thinks that, frankly, this sounds like a bit of an imposition upon the dead.  There you are, settling down for your eternal slumber when your unloved, unwanted and possibly unwashed second cousin twice-removed calls you up on the N-phone.  "Hello?  Aunt Millie?  Auntie, it's Bertram.  Cousin Bertram.  You remember me, your very favourite nephew?  It's about your will, Auntie.  You see, I'm not in it -" and so on, and on.

Necrophone or primitive laser?  Only you can tell!
(Best not to point it at anyone, just in case)

     Back to H & D.  Our intrepid trio expose the murderer (but of course!) and acquit the suspect.  Given that she is a mere slip of a woman, being accused of impaling her husband to the wall with two big swords after lifting him three feet off the floor, Conrad has doubts that the prosecution would have gotten very far.
     Edison behaved like a boor, but this is apparently authentic.

The Worst Of First
I'm at word limit right now but sheer explosive indignation forces - forces me, I tell you! - to bang on about the latest skirmish in the never-ending battle between the forces of evil (that's me) and First Bus (who are far, far worse).
     As you may guess, the 24 this morning didn't turn up, forcing me to catch another bus into Royton to catch the 181 out, and that was running late.  Thus your modest artisan arrived in work half an hour late.
     "Is that all?" I hear you quibble, querulously.  "Seriously, Conrad, you -"
     WRONG!   WRONGWRONGWRONG!  WRONG!
     Also, WRONG**!
     That half hour is my Crank Up On Coffee time, when I imbibe double espresso to kick-start the cranium.  I NEED THAT CAFFEINE CRANK!
     Silver linings, though: did the Cryptic in less than thirty minutes.

Conrad, looking smug.  Or angry.
Let's go with angry.

Okay, off to plan World Domination once more.

*  Do you see what I did there?  Do you? O - you do.
** I know this is repetition; however, I have a point to get across.