Time Is Tight Tonight

Yes It's True, Arnold Vosloo
First of all, First Bus pulled one of their Magic Bus tricks, in that they made a bus vanish.  Conrad, observing two First inspectors loitering meaningfully at the scrum bus stop on Oldham Street, enquired if there was any danger of the 24 turning up, ever.
     "Yes, it's right on time," replied one inspector.
     "No, it's running 12 minutes late," replied the second.
     Hang on - if these people are confused and out of touch about their own bus service, what chance do the rest of us have?

Arnold: a right mummy's boy

     Twenty minutes later the 24 still hadn't appeared.  Who knows what exciting adventures the driver and passengers were having on their detour to the Mongolian capital of Ulan Bator, eh?
     It's not all bad news.  Well, it is, actually, but I don't want to deprive you of the will to live.  I got a copy of The Metro on the 181 when it turned up, which publication First buses from Rochdale have decided to only stock on a random basis determined by the phase of the moon, which football team is in the relegation zone and the direction birds overhead are flying in.  Also, a kind vendor gave me a free copy of the Manchester Evening News, so I had a bash at their Cryptic Crossword.
     Alas!  Two clues unsolved.  I suspect both have Latin roots, ah yes Latin that dead undead zombie language that's still hanging around 1600 years after the Romans decided our weather wasn't going to improve and left.  Art?

But cast your eyes to the right

     The Cross Code was a puzzle I hadn't tried before and didn't prove too challenging, sufficient unto distract me from feeling a failure about not completing the Cryptic*.

More Anon Of - ZOMBIES!
More specifically, "Do Zombies Dream Of Undead Sheep?"
     From Youtube and "Because Science" with Kyle Hill, who talks proper scientific, like.  About all kinds of whimsical bizzle - "Why is The Hulk green?"  "Could Kylo Ren lift Thor's hammer?" "What happens when you fall into molten lava?"
     He also mentions the book above, which is written by a couple of neuroscientists about zombies, from the neuroscientific viewpoint.  Worrying or encouraging?  Only you can decide ...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7ONV_GBwmg

     The authors speculate why fast or slow zombies exist, and come up with a winning argument about brain death.  The longer it takes a body to re-animate, the greater the brain damage suffered, and the slower and shufflier the zombie becomes.  Nice logic.  Convincing.  Or, worrying.  Only you can tell ...

Pay close attention!  

Conrad:  Still Cross
As ever, I have many targets that might  drift into the crosshairs of my vitriolic virtual bullets, although since I've already given First Bus a bit of bile, and want BOOJUM! to remain fresh and novel, I won't yark on about them.
     No, this time I am still cross about that Cryptic Crossword clue, "Number (11)" that turned out to be "Anaesthetic".  Number?  I'll give you a number, how about this number - 28,000.  Art?

From later last night

     Time is still tight, as I've lost half an hour thanks to First Bus.  I've just been to vote, then I need to make a lunch for tomorrow, then have some tea, and all before 9 p.m. when I shall be off to Pub Quiz.  This means - oops! - no time to bake anything for the folks at work**.  

A Touch Of Hulk
Wonder Wifey has proved that she can partially-Hulk out***, now that consistent good weather has arrived that lasts for several hours not several minutes.  Here is her small-scale replica of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon - or a Tower of Flower at the very least.  Lots of pots.  Art?

     There is more to post, but I'm going to string it out over several posts in order to pad out my whimsical nonsense.  Or nonsensical whimsy.  Scrivel.  O I know what I mean!

Repeat Performance
One of the diversions that your modest artisan missed whilst dog-sitting was a fire-alarm at The Electric Goldfish Bowl.  Fate, Destiny and Terpsichore^ all decreed that "Conrad Be Not Denied!".  Or, You Shall Have A Fire Alarm.  Allow Art:

Looking toward the entrance

Looking away from the entrance.
Hello, Simon.  Do cheer up!

     This probably means that you now know my Coyly Anonymous Employer is in fact - 
     - well, let's just leave a little mystery about it, shall we?

 I am now going to take some more photos of what Wonder Hulky has been up to, then get some tea and make tomorrow's lunch, all the time whistling "Singing Rule Britannia While The Walls Are Closing In", thank you The Chameleons -

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N2lp0dOf5OY

*  As my dad used to say, you have to get used to the mindset of the compiler, which can take a while.
**  This is the only way I can survive on the office floor.  Sad, isn't it?
***  Green fingers, at least
^  Nice lady, very musical.