You can accept the fact that this [Country] is headed for a disaster of biblical proportion.
old testament, real wrath of God type stuff, fire and brimstone coming down from the sky, rivers and seas boiling.
In the United Kingdom, and most of the Commonwealth countries these little wrapped bits of toilet roll are pretty popular. My family since living in Britain like to buy them to bring back some of the nostalgia of living over there.
At Christmas these “crackers” are used to decorate the tree. On Christmas day a they are pulled down and pulled open. They have small cap like pieces of cardboard which pop when you open it. Or they are supposed to.
The crackers generally contain little plastic crap toys, a joke or motto, and a little paper crown. Basically they are as good as the money you put into them.
The cracker was invented in 1847 by Tom Smith who thought the sound of crackling from his fire would make a great sound to incorporate in his candies. His invention sells like hot cakes in the Christmas period in many wide varieties.
Edit: to add a pic of the tree with the crackers in the branches, and a cracker crown for Ardis. Btw this tree is our first on return from Britain.
Meanwhile, the Domino war fleet was making its way through the void. They had travelled almost a hundred light years to this point, and soon their destination would be in visual range. The sleek, deadly stiletto shapes of the Gentlemen’s fighters, their allies, maintained tight formation around the ponderous black and white battleships.
The spy was already in place, their cannon had been re-fitted, and they had just received confirmation that the RARS Fleet had been escalated. Within a matter of para-hours they would be at their target : the WebWorld9! Read the rest of this entry »
From one of these I quote:
“A friend in Prague asks for an update on what he tells me “looks like a weird constitutional crisis in Canada” when viewed from a distance. I assure him that it looks like a weird constitutional crisis when viewed from up close, too. It was precipitated by newly elected Conservative Prime Minister Stephen Harper doing something that, well — let’s say, something that must have seemed a good idea at the time.”
You really wonder how stupid people can be…
Edited to add this article which I think encapsulates the whole thing rather well:
The HMS Server trawled through the inky void. Stars nova’d to the left. Wormholes slugged it out with black holes to the right. “I’m stuck in the middle with you”, mused Captain Hard-Grafft Slogs. He was bored. Ahhhh, this was the life, he thought. His impeccable servers were so stable they made a flat plane look wonky. The HMS Server was a blocky tower of a space ship, designed for function rather than style, its coloured running lights breaking up the stern browns and greys of the hull. If it came anywhere near gravity, the contest would be short-lived. Like a dog and its owner, the captain had a chubby build, and was not known for making impulsive rash actions. He wore the kind of vague smile on his round face that made one wonder if he was truly present in this reality. Still, he was more than happy with his lot, and that was all that mattered, after all. Read the rest of this entry »
My little “monkey”, his nickname, has a habit which he does each time we have moved into this particular complex, our third time btw. He likes to try and put his head between the stairs, as you can see here.
However, he goes one step farther by getting his head between the stairs. This leads to the inevitable, stuck head.
When he was 17 months old I found him hanging by his hands on one of the stairs dangling. It was very frightening, no one else but him has ever done anything even so close to that.
Then we moved the second time, he decides to get his head stuck more or less doing the same sort of thing, but now he was 2 years old.
So 2 years later we move back into another building in the complex, on the day we are moving in, guess what. Head stuck once again.
It really makes you wonder if they remember what happened before. This is of course only the tip of the iceberg with this kiddo. He lives up to his nickname completely. I am still amazed he has never broken anything yet.
Rhett Crisko lent back in his swivel leather armchair, and fumbled distractedly with his prize possession, a leather flying cap with goggles personally autographed by his hero, Captain Ace P. Lott. So the leather had had to be replaced over the years, and the signature had faded to a few grubby marks, but still, it was the thought that counted! His office was neat and tidy, and decorated with a minimal touch, usually a location for peace and solitude. But today, something was in the air, and it polluted the serene ambiance of his chambers. Crisko was the commander of the station and a Captain in the Terran Galactic Starforce, sandy-haired with a firm jaw. He had been a member of the elite military force for a number of years now and was considered the Old Man of the fleet even if he was one of the younger ones.
He longed to be a freighter pilot: the military life was not his idea of fun. In fact it always annoyed him that he kept getting promoted when all he was trying to do was avoid being sacked.
And this gnawing feeling of imminent trouble didn’t help. Read the rest of this entry »