Stop Me If You've Herd This One Before

I Don't Expect To Be Stopped

And NO THAT ISN'T A TYPO <eyes Remote Nuclear Detonator intently>.  It is an hilarious pun.  You'll see.

     I don't expect to be stopped because I'd not heard it before, and unless you're a farmer, you won't have either.  Okay, so there I was after typing up an Intro that mentioned 'Cow Pat Bingo' and needed a picture of a cow.  No problem.  Art!

Er - yeah.

     Then I saw a tagline that stopped me from scrolling swiftly onwards: "Is It Cruel To Have A Single Cow?"

     Somehow this is a question that Conrad has never considered, never mind the answer.  The answer is that yes, if you have only a single cow, it will become lonely and unhappy.  Cows, it transpires, are herd animals that are happiest when in a big bunch of other cows, all mooing melodiously.  If you have other livestock then they will pal up with the sheep or chickens or bandersnatches.  Plus, if you have a solo cow, and they can hear other cows, better hope your fences are secure, as Daisy will make an escape attempt to join the herd.  Art!

Flee, Daisy, flee!

     This leads on to another question nobody has ever asked me: are cows dangerous?  Could Daisy become a deranged psychopathic killer in her desperation to escape from solitary confinement?

     Don't laugh, the answer is possibly.  Over the past seven years four members of the public have been the victims of Killer Kows in the Murder Meadow.  Usually incidents involve walkers with dogs and cows with calves, not a winning combination.  Whilst cows don't possess poison fangs or tearing talons, they probably weigh a quarter ton each and if they knock you down or trample you, you will have bruises to remember it by.

Plus some have pointy bits

    Wonder Wifey has, in the past, warned Conrad about letting Edna Wunderhund off the leash if there are Daisy's about.  Point taken.

     Motley, let's moove smartly along!

Another Answer To A Question Nobody Asked

No, not "Why is Russell Brand still extant?"  This bizarre concept needs an illustration to get the ball rolling.  Art!

What on Earth?

     You know Conrad, a sense of greed and curiosity combined in one economy-sized packet.  This clip is from a series that invokes Gordon Ramsey, who in real life is an utter teddy bear made from marshmallow.  Here a collection of competitors have to traverse underground caves.  Art!

     Conrad is also a massive coward, as well as being massive, and there's NO WAY he would undertake this descent, which is supposed to be about retrieving 'truckles' of cave-aged cheddar.  Not sure what a truckle is.  Hi Google!

     A barrel of cheese.  Of course the name comes from Latin <hack spit> originally "Trochlea" which means "Wheel".  Of course it does.

     'Cave-aged cheddar' is also a real thing, again news to me.  Conditions inside cave systems maintain consistent cool temperatures and high humidity, which is what you want to mature your cheddar.  Art!

     "That was the easy bit.  Now it's going to get a lot harder,*" the lady above is informed.  At one point they have to squeeze through a gap of 10 inches, which makes Conrad wonder how big these cheese truckles can be?

Ah Me, Those Wacky Americans

Conrad, for the extent of this item, will (reluctantly and with considerable bad grace) acknowledge that the American Revolutionary War happened and they won it.  The South Canadians, as epitomised by "The Daily Beast", simply cannot get enough of This Sceptred Isle's monarchy.  Every edition of their virtual tabloid has an article about the Queen STAND UP FOR HER YOU RASCALS or Prince Charles or Marcilla Whosit.  Art!

     'Harry' here refers to Prince Harry, and the fact that they don't even bother with the title implies they know exactly who he is, and so do their readers.  Honestly, one would think they miss the days of Empire and being told sternly what to do and how to do it.  Okay, back to business as usual.

Let's Have More More "Tormentor"!

Yes, let's.  First, more tea.  Ah that goes down well.

Persuading Angela of the reality of spirits took no effort.  She had, after all, seen Jen after her funeral, right here in this very same house.  Louis couldn’t explain the reason for that since he’d only been holding Angela’s hand.  The mother-daughter thing, perhaps.

               Dave’s shotgun blast had been so effective because he’d put a silver ball down each barrel, kept there with a bit of gum.

               ‘Seventy quid well spent,’ commented Louis. ‘Next thing – both of you need to get a crucifix and wear it permanently from now on.  Don’t take it off even in the shower.’

               ‘Who were those men, and why did they kidnap me?’ pleaded Angela.

               Louis tried to explain.  Angela was one of the very few people he gave a toss about.  Kidnap her and the kidnappers knew he’d come to the rescue. Not so much “kidnappers” as human beings having their bodies hijacked, by the way.

               He sighed heavily and sincerely.  So much for Laura being at risk!

               ‘Come on, Yvonne.  Back home for us.’

               A startled Angela looked around the lounge as Dave gave a goodbye wave.

     Only the Coda left!

Meanwhile, Seventy-Nine Years Ago In Tunisia ...

Yes, we are off to "The War Illustrated" again, because I can.  Art!

     A slightly-blurred picture of where the Eighth Army had been attacking two weeks previously.  As I continually point out, these magazines were publishing news weeks after events took place, in order to avoid letting any sensitive information out.  Art!

     The page above refers to the Battle of Medenine, the last attack mounted under the command of Rommel and a dismal costly failure for the Axis.  So much for his 'fingertip feel' of the battlefield, hmmm?  That's what happens when you attack dug-in anti-tank guns supported by divisional artillery and medium and heavy artillery. 

Finally -

Here our usual pontificate about Tsar Poutine the Tiny Toxic Terror Toad and his 'Special' Military Operation.  Last night I happened to watch a Youtuber with a channel called "Speak The Truth", who had several excellent detailed maps of the situation on the ground.  His grasp of Ukrainian placenames needs a bit of work, mind.  Art!

     The Ruffians are making no progress in either the east or south, only in the north, and only then when the Ukrainians don't contest ground.  What progress is being made has been described by the South Canadians as 'grinding' and one wonders how long the Ruffians can continue attacking when their losses average 1,000 per day**.  This is Day Sixty Two of what was supposed to be a five-day SMO, after all.

     Further to matters, Justin Bronk - hereafter 'The Bronk' - was discussing matters with Ward Carroll on the latter's Youtube channel, and said he'd been discussing Perfidious Albion's 'Starstreak' anti-aircraft missile system with pilots, who all agreed it was Dog Buns! terrifying as a weapon, because as a beam-riding weapon guided by an operator, no warning or countermeasures will work.  The very faint laser beams cannot be spoofed, and the thing flies at Mach 4, meaning no aircraft ever built can outrun it.  The Bronk also confirmed that video of a Ruffian Mi-28 getting cut in two was a Starstreak in action.  Art!

     Note tail beginning to fall off because no, that's not how they're supposed to look.

     More prosaically, with older infra-red seeking MANPADS, a canny Uke apparently watched a Ruffian helicopter dumping all 192 decoy flares it possessed, and only then fired his missile.

     I think that's enough blood and thunder for one day, and Edna needs her Long Walk.  Chin chin!

*  Hard cheese?

**  It's a useful approximation