Ouch!

The Coincidence Hydra Is At It Again
Biting my nethers, that is.  I used to use the metaphor of a Coincidence Hammer, except I'd end up with concmussion, the consequence of being hit so many times.
     I can tell, by the rolling of your eyes, that you don't know what I'm talking about.
     Okay, what was I harping on about at length yesterday but the "Lensman" series of books by E.E. "Doc" Smith.  In all the times of writing this blog I've probably only mentioned them once or twice.  Then, on the 'Space Opera' Facebook page what crops up but this.  Art?

Dog Buns!

      Whoah, as that immortal thesp Keanu Reeves has been known to say.  I believe the Lensmen are a kind of galactic police force, who use the Lens to better beat the baddies.  We can stretch to showing you one.  Art?
,

"Gray"?  Not very intimidating or imposing!

      That Mcguffin on his wrist is probably the Lens, although it might be a really snazzy Rolex of the future.  Also, note how Mr. Smith gets his scientific qualification in there.  One feels that he was inordinately proud of being a Ph. D and wanted the whole world to regard the fact.  "I'm no ten-cents a word hack sci-fi writer you know - I'm a DOCTOR!"

     Yes, Edward, you're a doctor.  Now drink up your tea and have a biscuit, whilst we strap the motley into this handy rocket sled ...

Puzzled
By choice, of course.  I have completed my first ever Kakuro, which took ages and a slight assist to check if one set of numbers was correct (they weren't).  Art?

     The thing is, your humble scribe's natural field is with words and letters, so he is painfully slow at doing these things, yet his obsessive nature refuses to put them down once he starts.   
     Oh, and another thing.  I started on the puzzles in that Reader's Digest Compendium yesterday, on which note please have a look at this picture.  Art?

Can you spot the 20 or so mistakes?

     I did pick out 20 things that were wrong, yet the Solutions page states that "one of the cushions is made from concrete" - how on earth are you supposed to realise that?  Oh, and "The clock has 3 hands" - indeed it does: an hour hand, a minute hand and a second hand.  How is that an error?  "One of the books is 'War and Peas'" - maybe it is, but the print is too small and OBSCURED to read the title.
     Bah!

A Dry Riser Inlet
Yeah.  Conrad encountered a van yesterday on his excursion into Royton which informed the world that it maintained 'Dry Riser Inlets'.
     You know your humble scribe: ever inquisitive.  Okay, nosey. 
     "What are dry riser inlets?" I mused.  Only internally, because I was outdoors and didn't want to scare anyone.
     Okay, time for Art to earn his plate of coal.  Art?

See?

     It turns out that this is an inlet point for a system of firefighting pipes that are normally empty, usually because they're in unheated buildings where any water would freeze and burst them, such as car parks.  If a fire should break out, the the fire brigade tootle up with their fire engine and connect it's water tank to the dry riser inlet.  Hay Pesto!  Fire is put out.
     There you go.  Now we all know about dry riser inlets.  Don't you feel empowered?

The Difference Between A Cat And A Dog
Yes, I know they are completely different species.  What I refer to is the difference in temperament between the two.  Jenny, our cyborg sentry cat (laser eyes you see) deems that what is mine is hers, too, by default.  Art?

And yes, she would walk on the keyboard if I let her

     She will happily sit on that notepad all day long, purring smugly, because she's on my notebook.  Telling her off, or telling her to move, are equally effective, in that they're not.  You need to physically move her.
     Then there is Edna Wunderhund, our four-legged mobile alarm system.  Art?

     She is just happy lying next to your humble hack, although if awake she will make sulky sounds every so often to show that she's not impressed with the lack of lap to lie on.  Would she lie on my notebook?  No.  And if she ever did, a stern word of command would get her off it, pronto.

Well, we seem to be up to count.  The anniversary celebrations will just have to wait until this evening.  Later!