A Wagon?

Sorry To Return To That Dog Buns! Title Of Yesterday

"It's Greek and do squeak".  I did puzzle about what I meant whilst having a shower, and having now sat down to put strain on my brain, I know one thing that would fit the general description.  Art?

Tah-dah!

     A chariot.  What?  The ancient Greeks had them, and I'll bet they squeak if the axles aren't properly lubricated.*  Or, if you want to be more mundane, a wagon.

No, Art.   Put it away and be quiet, the grown-ups are talking.

     Okay, mention of horses and wagons and transportation - no, no, this is about the Second Unpleasantness, not the First, sit back down - brought back a recollection from earlier this week, in the wake of the D-Day anniversary.  Art?

     Blimey.  What an effort that was - it's taken 25 minutes to load that photograph after Google Chrome stopped working, the laptop froze and I had to re-take the photograph, which meant searching down the webpage again - and then do laptop froze again - you see the dedication and effort I put into this blog?  Do you?

      <pause until the red mists disperse a bit>

     Where were we?  Oh yes: George.  It's a bit of an anecdote rather than anything with any great merit, about how some idle British soldiers loaded their kit onto a horse, and had him carry all the heavy guns and ammo and stuff.   I just thought it chimed a bit with that ancient Greek chariot, across about two thousand years separation.



     Okay, motley, go clean out the coal shed.  Don't use matches to light the lant - Ah.  Too late.  Good job we've got a Calor gas stove, eh?

Bad Baker Boy's Back!

Yes, Your Humble Scribe made not one but two cakes yesterday.  It did take until well into the evening before both were done, though proper planning meant I could do other stuff whilst they rose in the oven.  Art?

Moist Orange And Almond Cake

     I decided to make this one gluten-free, since there's only an ounce of flour in it anyway.  As a result, Wonder Wifey imposed the Gluten Tithe on it, so the good folks at work only got half.  Art?

Frisky whisky fruit cake

     This one is supposed to be "Irish" except they only had Scotch whisky at the Co-Op, so the note I left used "Uisge Beath" which it the Gaelic for "Water of Life", and the Anglicised version is whisky.  The alcohol goes on after the cake comes out of the oven, so I put a written warning on it.  
     I am now going to have to find lots of other recipes with whisky in them, as I won't drink the horrid stuff.  That and the bottle of brandy, which was also purchased for adding to baking recipes and which will now sit in the cupboard for years.


Your name's not selling me on the idea either, atey



Your name's not selling me on the idea either, matey

Your name's not selling me on the idea eithr, matey

I hope you'll forgive the muddle above - that dreaded Picture-Reformatting error has gotten into the text and the only way to avoid it is to avoid the affected area.  Even so, it's taken a good 15 minutes to get to this point - though I did make a cup of tea and toast a couple of waffles in the meantime.
     Anyway -


My Apprehensions Mistaken
It seems that we may not, after all, be deprived of that source of salacious, vicarious and vicious entertainment, the BBC's "Have Your Say" on the ballfoot pages of their website.  This seems to be apparent since the summer is when the players return to the Egyptian mud from whence they came - no, hang on, that was swallows, wasn't it? and everyone in the ballfoot game prepares for the next season.  To this end the Beeb had an interview with one John Wayne Rooney - I think, I didn't read anything he said - and O! the comments were a joy.

CAUTION! Do not kick carelessly - worth £££ billions

     He seems to have alleged that The Manchester United Way club cannot buy their way out of trouble with a few incredibly expensive players - and we're talking of the order of £100 million per celebrity bladder-hoofer - and would be better recruiting younger, hungrier talent willing to play for the club rather than wheelbarrow-loads of cash.
     This, apparently, is not exactly news.  In fact, all the fans of this club have been saying exactly the same since last September, to judge by HYS.

Kicks a mean pigs bladder.  And shoots people.

     They also pointed the finger at Ol' Roo, who they say - and since I'm merely parroting the better-informed, we shall just have to take this on trust - blackmailed his former club into hugely increasing his already gigantic wage and stayed on for years after he was an overweight near middle-aged embarrassment.  That club being The United Manchester Way.
     Oh, the venom and spite was delicious!  We may come back to this since there was oodles of opprobrium that I've not referred to.

A.k.a. "Shrek" for some obscure reason

Doomed To Success
Conrad was presented with a present last night - very dark chocolate absent any sugar, which Wonder Wifey had rejected with manifest loathing, declaring it to be Ghastly Beyond Belief.
     Well, I quite liked it, actually.
     Anyway, that has nothing to do with what struck me as I ascended the stairs, which was a noise; a theme tune, in fact, which immediately caught my attention, and which turned out to be the end theme for "Doom Patrol", this is one of the more bonkers superhero series to be immortalised in comic form.  Art?

Note British character actor (Timothy Dalton for the uninformed)

      Unusually, Ol' Tim is there as a good guy, rather than the villain.
     Oh, and that theme tune? - by the always redoubtable Clint Mansell, whom you will remember did that for "Moon".


Finally -
You'd better get used to this picture, because it's going to come up a whole lot more in July of this year, that being the 50th anniversary of Neil and Buzz going for a bit of a stroll beyond their backyard.  Art?

The Moon

     Any of you parading any hoax allegations will be immediately disintegrated.  Fair warning.

*  I think.  Chariot axle behaviour is a closed book to me.