Swifty
doesn't negotiate with terriers
- Joined
- Sep 15, 2013
- Messages
- 33,753
Another example of my Mrs not being able to leave a damn thing where I put it.
I think your Mrs would get on with mine mate ..
Another example of my Mrs not being able to leave a damn thing where I put it.
Excellent suggestion! Should free us up for a few jars!I think your Mrs would get on with mine mate ..
I'm up for that as long as she hasn't 'tidied away' my wallet.Excellent suggestion! Should free us up for a few jars!
I've mastered the art of keeping notes inside pens!I'm up for that as long as she hasn't 'tidied away' my wallet.
Good idea ! .. I'll have to remember that one .. next time I've got any notes that is.I've mastered the art of keeping notes inside pens!
The rate at which I lose pens, I would be bankrupt within a ridiculously-short time. But I'm also quite adept at finding pens.I've mastered the art of keeping notes inside pens!
Me and the Mrs just walked back up the hill from town, I noticed some random evenly placed 'blobs' on the floor but didn't pay them much attention to them at the time .. they looked wet ..
On the way back the Mrs said "They look like footprints" .. and they do/did if they're still there tomorrow .. the strange thing is that they are footprints, bipedal and about the size and distance apart of a child's footprints, left and right foot marks, some clearer than others that faded out after about half a mile. The spooky thing is that they also fade out at about the same area as our front door .. fanciful I know and we both laughed it off .. if they're still there tomorrow I'm going to film them and take measurements.
The Mrs reckons they were made on purpose (as a prank?) because the density of them fade out and then get darker again.
edit: here's some white footprints in Hull
http://www.hulldailymail.co.uk/what...ents-in-hull/story-29548580-detail/story.html
We've got a small child's footprint preserved in concrete in our back yard, clearly from a previous owner .. I like it and sometimes wonder how old that kid is nowadays ..Those white footprints must be a stunt, as there's smaller ones inside.
We've got a small child's footprint preserved in concrete in our back yard, clearly from a previous owner .. I like it and sometimes wonder how old that kid is nowadays ..
I like it and sometimes wonder how old that kid is nowadays . . .
Last week, prior to Easter, I was driving in slow heavy late-afternoon traffic, on a well-travelled two-lane inner-city road near Edinburgh.
We were collectively stationary, five car-lengths back from a crossroads. The lanes were clearly (and conventionally) marked, with arrows, left-turn & ahead on the left, and ahead only on the right (ie my lane)
There was a box junction painted on the road just ahead of me, which I'd stopped prior to (by reason of, that is of course, what you are meant to do). It was there so as to protect access to/from a sports club car-park, on the left.
My lane was quite static due to the traffic-lights a few yards ahead, but the left-hand lane was clear.
A slow moving car came down that lane, which I initially sensed via my rear-view mirror, but it steadily drew level with me (on the inside), proceeded to overtake me (by overtaking on the inside) almost taking the passenger-side wing off my car, and slowly stopping diagonally across my path within the box junction.
I watched in utter disbelief, as the car then began to shuttle back-forwards-back-forwards, within the box-junction, until it was straightened-up about an inch from my front bumper, and occupying the entire protected length of the junction. It may have done six-eight minor ballet movements to achieve this, and very possibly contacted the front bumper of my car (and the rear bumper of the car in front) softly and repeatedly.
I was now in total shock watching this, and had joined-in with a number of other drivers who by this time were peeping their car horns in that staccato sequence of honks you reserve for the close-by crazies.
By this time, traffic was coming the other way, some of which wanted (inevitably) to turn (their) right, into the sports-club. Only to find the curious car with a strange sense of entitlement 'parked' in their way....I couldn't tell what the driver of this truly-bizarre bronze Suzuki car looked like (or indeed if it even had a driver...) but the experience counts as one of the oddest in-town slow'n'stupid driving insanities I've ever seen.
We eventually moved off, with me keeping a very-healthy distance back from the Suzuki.
Maybe he/she always does that. You know, overtakes on the inside, so as to occupy their god-given yellow-painted position in the traffic flow.
I don't like car/driver rage, but this really qualified for a public lynching or mob-rolling the car upside-down. Completely ridiculous. Never seen the like. Maybe he'd never driven before. Or had just arrived on a ferry from the isles. But he/she should've been shot. As a public safety mercy culling.
Today, outside Morrison's supermarket and B&M, a couple of ducks had evidently decided to do a wildlife takeover, and were swimming serenely in a bigger-than-medium-sized puddle.
Staff had thoughtfully reacted to the occupation by erecting a ring of those yellow folding "Cleaning in Progess" warning signs as a protective plastic barracade (to prevent accidental poultricide)
It looked like a low-budget sci-fi special effects scale model scene, with giant birds landing in a lake surrounded by strange towering alien minarets.
The number of spectators was ridiculous, possibly 20 or 30, plus plenty others further away that were pretending they were too middle-class to watch.
People had that stupid "shouldn't we do something?" look on their faces, which is the same hybrid internal conflict when they witness someone choking to death in a resturaunt ('oh, that's fine, somebody else is dealing with it, but I'll pretend that I could step-in at a moment's notice and be a hero').
Perhaps they'll make it a permanent feature (if the ducks are willing to move-in properly).
I don't think so, there were loads of really small phones back then. I think colour screens started to become popular around 2003-ish.
No idea what make it was?
View attachment 4514
Did they move in when things were closed for a day?
Ah, perhaps I should emphasise, this is in Scotland. Nothing really closes on Easter Sunday, or Easter Monday, either.
The custom in Scotland is that Bank Holidays are (in the main) for, well...banks. Not shops or people.
That, and a small, select band of mainly public & third sector employees.
The vast majority of shops are/were open as normal.
<thread-drift>In Scotland, we've only recently started to almost-universally observe a fortnight over Christmas and New Year...effectively, England has inherited New Year/Hogmany from us, and we've inherited Boxing Day from them. And that's been subsequently-uptaken as a global fortnight off, in the decadent west, the Americas, the Antipodes, and manywhere else </thread-drift>
But: @MorningAngel (and any other TL-DR victims...) I say "no", in belated response to your elegant hypothesis.
Fascinating, that means you must've started work either before the Council of Nicea codified the Book of Genesis into the Old Testament, or, quite literally just after the universe was recordably-created (in either a Judeo-Christian/Mondowoo style, or in a pseudoscientific cosmological sense).luckily I started back in the dawn of time when Sundays weren't compulsory
Fascinating, that means you must've started work either before the Council of Nicea codified the Book of Genesis into the Old Testament, or, quite literally just after the universe was recordably-created (in either a Judeo-Christian/Mondowoo style, or in a pseudoscientific cosmological sense).
Now that last suggestion is patently-ridiculous, so I'm going to go with idea that you've been working since around 325 AD. Or maybe it just feels like that...
She....so I'm going to go with idea that you've been working since around 325 AD. Or maybe it just feels like that...
You do know he has this picture in his attic ?
INT21
It is.t's true that the first line is the most awkward.