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Post by Faceless on Jul 9, 2019 15:21:26 GMT
I'm a bit bored. I think I might go home.
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Post by tenthenemy on Jul 9, 2019 16:08:05 GMT
I'm a bit bored. I think I might go home. Is it easier to be bored at home? |
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Post by tenthenemy on Jul 9, 2019 16:48:36 GMT
Morning!
My timetable is all out of whack after I had to reassemble our bed in the early hours of the morning, i.e. when I still wanted to sleep in it. Also broke a water glass on a bedside table in the process. I've had better starts to the day.
Ganes: Bit more Mystic Quest aka Final Fantasy Adventure from the Mana Collection. Last time I played this title in German about 26 years ago, so I wanted to know what the English version is like (answer: bad. I have no idea what the various items are supposed to do).
TV: Stranger Things s. 3, ep. 1 and a bit of 2. Had a look afterwards at the Guardian review and - spoiler alert - the thing with the rats is apparently going to get completely out of hand in episode 4. So far Preferred Mammal and I have been enjoying it a lot, so glad to have it back.*
Lunch: ciabatta rolls with a) cheese and b) salami with a side of pickled gherkins and a fizzy lager (Estrella Damm).
OTTM: Watching the US-UK ambassador spat with interest.
*Edit: I recently heard that the Stranger Things 3 game is based on the entire series, therefore very spoilery. Apparently it's not particularly good, either.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2019 19:02:00 GMT
Disappointing battered sausage and chips with curry sauce. Nowhere near the usual amount of chips. Brexit now! I have a story for everything today. The Mrs got a lamb shish for me and chips and @ falafel wrap for herself on Sunday from our local chippie. In the shop someone was going mental at how he'd spent £2 and not been given enough chips (apparently it was a sizeable portion). They refused to give him more and he threw it at them and stormed out. Depriving himself of all the chips. What I'm saying is, was this you? |
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Post by Destry on Jul 9, 2019 19:16:30 GMT
Goodbye Mr. Chips.
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Post by Tuffers on Jul 9, 2019 19:23:45 GMT
Pro tip. Chips are too filling and open to variation in quality, I prefer well done crispy bits on mine. Get a couple of potato scallops to accompany the fish and curry sauce. Your welcome.
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Post by Shenguin on Jul 9, 2019 20:01:20 GMT
I had to reassemble our bed in the early hours of the morning, i.e. when I still wanted to sleep in it. Also broke a water glass on a bedside table in the process. |
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Post by amipal on Jul 9, 2019 20:15:30 GMT
I had to reassemble our bed in the early hours of the morning, i.e. when I still wanted to sleep in it. Also broke a water glass on a bedside table in the process. There's a story behind this I reckon. |
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Post by Shenguin on Jul 9, 2019 20:18:54 GMT
There's a story behind this I reckon. Possibly one involving Mr Tent Rooster. |
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Post by Sheep2 on Jul 9, 2019 21:03:25 GMT
Knocked over a glass of water is a euphemism for wet the bed.
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Post by Shenguin on Jul 9, 2019 21:23:21 GMT
Glass of water is probably a penis beaker.
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Post by Sheep2 on Jul 9, 2019 21:31:51 GMT
Somebody needs to wash his dirty mouth out.
Not from that beaker though.
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Post by tenthenemy on Jul 9, 2019 21:43:29 GMT
There's a story behind this I reckon. Possibly one involving Mr Tent Rooster. Only in so far as he happened to be in the same bed. The bedframe is an ancient IKEA product in a now discontinued size, while the double mattress is new, extremely heavy and slightly too small (due to discontinued size) and lies on top of some highly dodgy wooden slats that are a bit too short and therefore tend to slide off the frame on either side every few months. Not so much of a problem as I can just about lift the mattress enough to put the slats back in place. This morning, however, the slats came undone not on the side but in the middle, forcing me to stand the mattress upright in the bed and reconstruct the collpsed slats on both sides. In the process I knocked over a water glass with the mattress on one of the bedside tables and cut myself when I was trying to pick up the broken glass (a tiny cut, but one of those that just won't stop bleeding). Once I had reassembled the bed and got rid of the broken glass Mr Tent Rooster stated, not for the first time, that he had married Wonder Woman. Wonder Woman and her loyal companion then sank gratefully into bed for a few more hours. Edit: I'm sorry to disappoint on the kinky sex water glass front. |
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Post by Chumbles on Jul 10, 2019 0:02:35 GMT
The funniest thing about today's hospital visit was that a couple of the chattier old dears started to talk to me ... 'FRESH YOUNG MEAT'! I remembered from my days as a librarian that our older ladies adore the idea of rampaging, torrid sex.
"Where's the books with the 'good'* stuff." Winking away as though one of their eyelids had decided that its primary function was to act as a signalling device. They had a kind of codex libraria; they would put a 'slight' pencil mark on their number. Great irritation if they found that someone else had chosen the same number... (which was how I found out because certain pages had the page number wiped out by marks and counter marks).
It was a bit like cattle rustling where the old girls would develop compound marks incorporating their competition's sigils. I asked one of them why they felt the need to fold down or tear off particular pages. The answer was "Them's the GOOD bits my lovely." - both eyelids would go into horrific 'sexy' flutter mode. They also thought that I had a locked, refrigerated shelf where I hid the REALLY good stuff.
The women on my staff were creeped out by this as though old girls having an internal sex life was something that should be discouraged. These feminist "don't you open that bloody door for me you pervert" liberated young things were even more creeped out by, and refused to take books to an old lesbian poet - as if this frail, lonely old woman was going to chase them around and have her evil way with them.
The blinkered idiots missed out - she was Mary Stella Edwards. One of the Bloomsbury set along with Virginia Woolf, John Maynard Keynes, E. M. Forster and Lytton Strachey. Judith Ackland was her partner for 47 years and I met the devastated, grieving old poetess and artist 5 years after she had moved out of Bucks Mills when Judith died. It was like an art gallery. We corresponded for a while - I still have one of her books "A Truce With Time" which she gave me.
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Post by Chumbles on Jul 10, 2019 0:09:35 GMT
Glass of water is probably a penis beaker. wtf is that? I know Beaker was forever blowing himself up ... oh.  |
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