My Frothing Nitric Ire
Also known as Rob's Righteous Rancour, which confuses people since I usually refer to myself as 'Conrad' because that's my actual official first name that nobody ever uses.
I can tell what you're thinking and YES I did return D.A.R.P.As Telepathy Helmet to them, it's just that you are all so predictable. "What is the grimy old git banging on about now - it's Codewords again, isn't it?"
Pausing only to inform you that Your Humble Scribe is both scraped and scrubbed, I shall explicate. First of all you are WRONG! Codewords come later. Art! Nice clickbaity picture, please.
"Tax raid! Have your 1040 ES forms ready for inspection"
More like "For Men Who Haven't Grown Up Yet Only" Conrad suspects. The cover is surely a match for "GI WHO RAIDED 'SAIGON SALLY'S' SIN BARRACKS", nicht wahr? Note the Communist paraphernalia on the walls; I don't think this gal has a pash for Mom's apple pie and Old Glory. Note, too, how the artist just skirts propriety with these young ladies apparel, revealing a little and hinting at O so much more. After all, it is a Barracks full of sin.
ANYWAY back to Conrad's seething rage. For several days now The Mansion has had to endure roadworks and queueing traffic, and Conrad is mightily glad of his replaced double-glazing. It's amazing how motorists choose to play such sonic sewage with their windows down, allowing the world to sneer at their taste. Art!
This was before Cadent really got into it and dug up half a mile of pavement, incidentally closing both the conveniently-placed bus stops, too. Allow me to add more in. Art!
Apologies for the orientation, I tried to rotate it in Pictures, but Pictures was having none of it. Of course - obviously! - this sent my rage to new heights. Or should that be lows? Pretty ragey, anyway. So I had the choice of getting off at the Halfway House and walking uphill, or getting off at The Pleasant Inn and walking downhill. Being as idle as ever, Conrad chose the latter, which admittedly added another 500 steps to my Fitbit count BUT STILL.
If you'll excuse me, I'm off to make a pot of tea and a cheese toastie, since we're off to visit Darling Daughter this afternoon and I'm thus on a countdown and have to get this done by 13:30.
<ten minute pause>
Back again - okay, let's get this dog and pony show on the road.
Thanks For Clarifying That
As you doubtless recollect, Conrad recently got an Encyclopedia of DC comics characters, a noble and impressive reference work in full colour on high-quality paper, and a snip at £150.
Ha! Only fooling, just seeing if you were awake. Actually £15. Art!
Hmmmmm not as clear as I'd hoped. This flow chart breaks down the history of DC comics into various 'Ages', by theme and date. You have, serially: Golden Age (1956 - 1969), Silver Age, Bronze Age (this will confuse paleontologists), Dark Age (ditto historians), Modern Age (1984 - 1998), More Modern Age, and finally Prime Age (2011 - to date). Your Humble Scribe had wondered what fuzzily-defined phrases like "Silver Age" meant and now we all know. From the notes, it seems that a major part of writer's input in these Ages is retrospectively amending history, what the industry calls 'Retconning' in order to shoehorn all sorts of contemporary stuff in. You're welcome.
More Of Illustrations
These ones are from "The War Illustrated", which set out to do exactly what it said on the tin. As ever, remember that these pictures have to be vetted and passed by the censors so as to avoid giving out information. Art!
These two pictures show the armies of Perfidious Albion doing their logistics bit in the harbour at Benghazi, which is tacit admission that the Axis were failing, because this port had been a target for both sides when the other held it. Not any more; the Axis had been driven so far west that they were out of range. Not only that, the harbour and docks had been jammed with sunken ships, which have now been salvaged and removed, increasing efficiency. There is a phrase going around today about logistics which underlines how vital it is.
I was going to put up an item about 'Attar of Roses' as I thought it was an oil that came in a bottle, but a quick Google reveals a Pelargonium, so things are not as cut and dried as I'd imagined and I need to do a bit more digging. Meanwhile - Art!
Finally -
Kind of taangentially related to Bloaty Gas Tout's invasion of Ukraine and no mention of blood or thunder. Finland! Yes, Suomi (Finnish for 'Finland' and I think it means 'Land of swamps') has decided to join NATO, thanks to Dimya's 'Special' Military Operation. You only have yourself to blame, matey. Of course, because everything is going according to plan, you expected this, didn't you?
You didn't?
But Dimya! Art!
That's the Russo-Finnish border now. Take a good look, because Dimya now has an 800 mile border with a NATO member state, which must be sending his generals into paroxysms of rage; that border, you see, will need fortifications and defence forces, which the Ruffians don't have and can't afford. Various Ruffian authorities have been blustering about how unfriendly this act was, and what they're going to do blah blah blah. There's nothing they can do, 75% of their army is currently in Ukraine. What, are they going to mount a hugely inept invasion that fails embarrassingly badly AGAIN? The Finns have an army of 250,000 men and they can mobilise their 900,000 reserves at the snap of a finger. They'd probably outnumber the Ruffians 4 to 1.
Oh, and when the Ruffians played bully by bringing up mobile nuclear missile launchers to parade along the border, the Finns responded with ten of these: Art!
Gotta love that Finnish sense of humour
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