Casino Royal Doulton

I Know!  I Know -
I had kind of promised to give up on James Bond and tea puns, but what can I say?  I'm weak and the muse struck.
     Royal Doulton, for the Philistines out there amongst you who do not drink tea from an appropriate container, is a brand of china.  I shall kick Art into wakefulness and order an illustration.  Art!

Elegance, charm and deadly danger - no - hang on - that last bit was Lady Penelope -

     Even if it's sealed with a glaze, drinking your loose-leaf Fairtrade Darjeeling from one of these will of course make it taste better.
     Those of you out there whom are of recent vintage will only be aware of the Daniel Craig version of "Casino Royale", which is a state of blessed ignorance you ought to maintain, for it's predecessors were landmarks in Awful.

The two blights of modern life: mobile phones and ties

     You may not be aware of a 1954 South Canadian version, which slyly titles itself "Casino Royale" but which has "Jimmy Bond" as 007 - I feel faint even typing this - and a South Canadian at that <swigs gin to recover>.

The horror!  The horror!

     Well, this was overtaken and surpassed in Awful by the 1967 film "Casino Royale" which tries to be - ah - a "psychedelic comedy action adventure" is how it would be described.  If you let it.  "A trainwreck written by idiots, filmed by dotards and financed by pillocks who were looking for a tax-write off" is how your humble scribe would describe it, and yes, I have seen it.

"Why?  Because they're paying me an awful lot of money."

     I suppose they thought it they threw enough cinematic ordure at the screen, some of those big Bond bucks would end up in their pockets.
     Bah!
     Enough picture poison, allow us to kick the motley into the piranha pool and put the lid back on*.

6th MG
Yes, back to the war diary of the British Americans in the First Unpleasantness. Don't worry, I shall keep this relatively brief.  The diary recounts that, as of 6th March 1918, their strength was 179 Other Ranks and 10 officers.  It also recounts that the Teuton artillery resorted to retaliation against suspected 6th MG emplacements with mustard gas, which proves two things:  firstly, that they very, very much resented the gentle attentions of the 6th's machine-gunners, and secondly, that they didn't know where the guns were,  mustard gas being an area weapon.  If they'd discovered exactly where the guns were, there would have been a deluge of shells immediately afterwards.
     From the 22nd March the notes become a lot more detailed, as the Teutons at that point mounted their 'Kaiserschlacht' offensive, an immense all-or-nothing attack that needed to succeed, or else, and consequently the Canadians were involved with stopping them.

A Little Miss -
 - that is, a little misleading**.  I posted the photo below on Facebook, about how Edna rather resembled Boudicca in her chariot.   Art?

     In reality she does not enjoy travelling by car, and had been very unhappy this morning when forced to climb into the Murdermobile.  Consequently she was not at all put out when the car failed to start and we both had to exit again.  By the time of the photo above, she was resigned to being a mobile captive, rather like one of those barbarian kings paraded in a Roman triumph.

Conrad, Standing Up For Sharks***
Yes!  Well, someone has to.  I can't help feeling that sharks are a harder sell than the weasel.  Although the weasel does not make a good domestic pet, I know of at least one Youtube video that displays same, and very cute he was, too.
     You cannot say the same of sharks.  They are not reallllly suitable as pets, due to the requirements for an extremely large body of water for them.  And the eating people thing, too.  Although by rumour, some South American drug lords keep them around as combination guard dog and garbage disposal machine, where the "garbage" in question can be disloyal henchmen, or simply random henchmen, chosen pour encourage les autres.
     Anyway, enter Charlie Fry. Art?


     This chap is a minor celebrity at present because he claims to have been 'attacked' by a shark, 'heroically' punching it in the nose to escape, whilst on his surfboard.
     EXCUSE ME!  This is shockingly one-sided and far from the impartial reporting expected from the BBC.  Where do we hear the shark's side of the story, eh?  Don't forget, this is the Softie Century, I'd have expected some weepy pressure group to be out looking for the traumatised shark, trying to give it cuddles.
     This may be news to you, but the silhouette of a surfer paddling on their board is similar to that of a seal, to a shark.

"It was an honest mistake, guv."

     Imagine that we employ the good services of Doctor Doolittle (MD) and interview the shark.  A transcribe follows.

DR DOOLITTLE:  So, can you tell us what happened?
SHARK:  I certainly can, old chap!
DR D: I'm only middle-aged.
SHARK:  Goodness gracious, I do apologise.  How crass of me!  Anyway, there I was, swimming around, keeping the sea tidy, when I spotted a seal on the ocean surface.
DR D:  A seal?
SHARK:  Or so I thought.  I swam up to keep the sea even tidier - seals being dreadfully messy, you know - and to my great surprise, it split in two!
DR D:  That must have been alarming.
SHARK:  You're telling me!  One part was utterly inedible, some kind of expanded polystyrene deriviative in moulded form, and the other part promptly beat me about the head.
DR D:  What then?  Did you resort to violence?
SHARK:  Certainly not - I'm not one for egregious antagonism.  I beat a hasty retreat.
DR D:  Thank you for balancing the story.  And now, back to BOOJUM!

    Of course, with a name like "Fry", there is another explanation, although this would require our sharky friend to be quite literate.  Art?

Small Fry ...

*  Don't worry, motleys taste horrid.
**  Do you see what I - O you do.
***  This is a metaphor.  Or analogy.  Don't complain about a shark's stance.