As In The Scottish Insult "Gae Bile Yer Heed"
The logistics of this would be a little daunting, don't you think? Firstly, a vessel large enough to accommodate a whole human head would be extremely large and, once filled with water, would take forever to come to a rolling boil. You'd also need to work out how much water your head would displace, because lots of water on a kitchen floor is a potential slip hazard. Then, is there an accepted minimum or maximum time for immersion? You'd need a third party present with a stopwatch, since boil-proof timers are a niche market. Nor is t
ANYWAY enough about the mechanics of head-boiling. Art!
Serves me right. I Googled "Strange Sci-Fi Magazine Covers" so of course - obviously! - I get Doctor Strange. Not that he has anything to do with what follows, because who wants logical or sensible?
ANYWAY AGAIN Your Humble Scribe got an e-mail on Thursday that I've not replied to yet, and may never indeed respond to. Let me illustrate:
Customer Service - Whatsapp/Email/Live Chat
Location - Rochdale
Salary - £10.42 per hour weekly pay
Start: 13th + 20th November 2023
Full time: 8am – 7pm Monday - Sunday 4 on 4 off
Temporary until February, a handful are kept perm every year!
Since you never underwent the experience I did, you may be unaware that this is the annual seasonal temp boost at Footasylum HQ, based at Sandbrook Park in Rochdale. Art!
This is the prestigious front entrance, which I never got to use as it was more convenient to come in via the back gate and the back door. Except on Saturday and Sunday, when the back gate was closed and I had to walk down the canal towpath and all the way round the building.
'Twas a tough gig, frankly, working an 11 hour day for four days a week, which days moved forward one day each week. One left The Mansion in the dark and got home in the dark, with a fifteen-minute walk to and from the Rochdale Road bus stop. Art!
You may notice a curious omission from the job spec: no telephone work. This was both a blessing and a curse, because Conrad's always had to experience customers and stakeholders ringing up to rant, tant, and vent until spent on the phone. I felt a certain schadenfreude at the frothing e-mails and What'sApps that gave the customer's phone number with an ORDER to call them back, and they were best friends with the CEO <cont. Page 96>.
The curse bit is that staff were thus able to play music all day long, which was exclusively rap music, which is a case of sonic assault as far as Conrad's concerned. FOR TEN HOURS! I still get cold sweats just thinking about it. Art!
Phew! A bit of prog, the best antidote to rap that there is. Conrad is going to be a bottomhole and not identify these album covers, because I'm horrid that way.
So, as the ad mentions, out of us 10 temps, only Sacha was retained as permanent. Something of a mixed blessing, one feels. Also, they only had a single teaspoon in the island kitchen, forcing me to bring my own. What an imposition! I might mention this if I do respond to Kirsty - she being the contact at Search. So, you can see why today's title exists.
Nasty Night-time Nitrate Noises
'Tis the weekend of Bonfire Night, which means people will be bonfiring on Saturday the 4th of November in addition to the 5th, which is Sunday. One reason being that Saturday was reasonably dry weather, and one cannot anticipate both nights on a weekend being free from rain. Conrad rather hopes that the heavens open and a Biblical deluge arrived with dusk tonight. Art!
This is Edna seeking refuge on the Human-Shaped Cushion, not an action she resorts to normally. I also had the television up loud to try and drown out some of the explosions outside, with limited success - it was the last 30 minutes of "The Adam Project" which is pretty much all explosions anyway.
"Nitrates" because, for your information, that's what they make explosives with.
The Grass Is Greener
This is kind of flirting with Politics, but I wanted to get a pun in there, so we'll carry on. Art!
Meadows was the Chief of Staff - rather, one of the CoS, as Prez Trump kept firing them - during the Trump administration. This is a plum position that brings a lot of power and accountability to the post-holder, and doing it successfully or at least not un-successfully opens a lot of doors when they move on.
The problem for Greeny is that he put in print that the 2020 election was stolen, which is hard to explain away as a minor point of nuance. Now, when he was looking at many years of jail time courtesy Smiling Jack Smith, he has back-tracked completely and is admitting that the 2020 election was NOT stolen. Or even "Stollen" as Citizen Trump keeps posting - as if he'd pay attention to a lowly spell-checker! One has to ask what he was thinking? ("Probably the $350,000 he was getting paid" is a likely answer)
Meadows is now being sued for $3 million plus legal expenses. Wow, that's a lot of green!
"City In The Sky"
Things amongst the American's Downstairs garrison are not exactly hunky-dory, it has to be said.
The real problem seemed to be fate. Twice their stores of refined fuel had gone
up in flames. First, thanks to lightning
from a tropical storm. Second, a leak
that contaminated the groundwater and also ignited.
Now the duty team and patrolling dog handlers stared with dismay at the
crumpled, punctured fuel refining plant, collapsing into itself in giant gouts
of flame and fire, a salamander’s delight.
Eighteen hours later the mangled metal detritus had cooled enough to be inspected. The Chief Engineer and his two deputies scrambled around, under and over struts and piping that still radiated heat, smoking or steaming in the early evening air. The three fire-suited figures congregated and pointed at a crazily-tilted pressure tank, getting closer and looking at support stanchions.
Colonel Hamilton Boyce, the humourless and by-the-book commander of
Operation Phoenix, stood and watched the trio examining wreckage. A tic in one cheek was the only visible sign
of the rage he felt; small as the gesture might be, it warned crew not to
approach him on anything less than vital matters.
Now, doffing his oversized silver headgear, Chief Engineer Murakow came
back over the cooling wrack to the Colonel.
Murakow’s face was grimy, his eyes red and bleary. He’d taken great risks in the small hours to
try and extinguish the fires.
Unsuccessfully.
Hmmmmm pushing it a bit with the prose there about 'salamander's', matey.
Make Mine A Mellifluous MacGuffin
I think I know this one! Art!
Conrad is guessing that this is a guitar effects box, which one can pre-set and then activate when onstage by pressing the big silver stud with one's size 10. I have no idea what "Vintage Dist." is, but I am going to check and see if my guess is correct. Art!
Finally -
Edna is sulking because I won't give her my overtoasted cinnamon-and-raisin bagel. O boy, she isn't going to be pleased when I go into Lesser Sodom!
I will, however, be driving as I have the car for a fortnight, so she will only have to amuse herself for a short while whilst ConraDaDog checks out what's going cheap in the Remainder chiller.
No comments:
Post a Comment