in Disgust, Oscars, Uncategorized, Who Knows What 764 Words

The Junkie, the Nanny and Doctor Hoo,’K?

I started posting knot-eyes of a sync over at MEROVEE yesterday. Frank in the Red Universe is having A Quantum Leap of Faith…

Merovee bones

CLICK: Dry Bones.

*Yes, Clicky, I stopped it there because you were about to add a Song…*

*/squint… ‘Then somebody hangs up when you answer the phone’. That’s a very personal sync, as you are well aware. Hey, hey, where you going? Clicky?!*

Popping out for a bit

CLICKY: We’re out of milk.

*OK bye, then! I’ll just put this all together myself, SHALL I?! /rolls eyes… I hope I haven’t lost my train of thought… /cracks knuckles…*

*******

A Void posted the other day about mounting Superstitions and a dead Head in ariZOna:

A Void Arizona

Oh hello! Do I see mention of Brandon Lee?  That would be Professor Crowe that Click spotted… “We’re out of milk”. My arse!

And Vann? That syncs with my other Doctor, Shiny Sheldon… NAVigator.

Mail headlines

We’ve been to Arizona, Thoughtful Man and I. Back before boys were ever on the scene. We based ourselves in Phoenix at a hotel called The Buttes. Americans love a British accent unless you tell them that you staying in their butts. Then they look on you with disgust. We found that out upon arrival, passing through Immigration.

siphon

Enter Legs with news of a really disgusting death.

Yesterday brought news of another dead head. A baby one, a seed. This time in mOZcow:

Moscow Baby Head

Oktyabrskoye Pole metro station received its name from Khodynka Field, a nearby locality which was known as October Field during Soviet Rule. Khodynka takes it’s name from a river and was the site of the first Russian powered flight. It became a regular airfield, in use through the late 1980s. The Russian National Air & Space Museum is at Khodynka.

Mail headlines 2

Most recently on MEROVEE, we’ve been syncing underground…

Merovee Everyone can go to hell

… and trains.

Merovee you're waiting for a train

Nanny taken down at the entrance to the underground.

Oh NO, Nanny‘s Named PersON

State Property

Mail headlines 3

Ah Scotland, policy test bed for so many London-based governments, the geographical head of the United Kingdom. The Romans tried to decapitated it…

Hadrian's Wall

…the SNP nearly pulled it off in 2014. No doubt they’ll try again but in the meantime they are developing their own policies for export.

The BASE jumper died by Sy Phon Draw…

syn-
word-forming element meaning “together with, jointly; alike; at the same time,” also sometimes completive or intensive, from Greek syn (prep.) “with, together with, along with, in the company of,” from PIE *ksun-“with” (cognates: Russian so-“with, together,” from Old Russian su(n)-). Assimilated to -l-, reduced to sy- before -s- and -z-, and altered to sym- before -b-, -m- and -p-. Since 1970s also with a sense of “synthetic.”

-phone 
word-forming element meaning “voice, sound,” also “speaker of,” from Greek phone“voice, sound,” from PIE root *bha- (2) “to speak, say, tell” (cognates: Latin for, fari“to speak,”fama“talk, report;” see fame (n.)).

Now where was I before Clicky threw a spanner into my works? /taps teeth…

fame (n.) early 13c., “character attributed to someone;” late 13c., “celebrity, renown,” from Old French fame“fame, reputation, renown, rumor” (12c.), from Latinfama“talk, rumor, report; reputation, public opinion; renown, good reputation,” but also “ill-fame, scandal, reproach,” from PIE root *bha- (2) “to speak, tell, say” (cognates: Sanskrit bhanati“speaks;” Latin fari“to say,”fabula“narrative, account, tale, story;” Armenian ban, bay“word, term;” Old Church Slavonic bajati“to talk, tell;” Old English boian“to boast,”ben“prayer, request;” Greek pheme“speech, voice, utterance, a speaking, talk,”phone “voice, sound,”phanai “to speak;” Old Irish bann “law”).

The goddess Fama was the personification of rumor in Roman mythology. The Latin derivative fabulare was the colloquial word for “speak, talk” since the time of Plautus, whence Spanish hablar.

I’ve always been afraid I was going to tap the world on the shoulder for 20 years, and when it finally turned around I was going to forget what I had to say. [Tom Waits, “Playboy” magazine interview, March, 1988]

There was plenty of rumour and speculation leading up this weekend’s Famefestathon, the OZcars… Not only who would win awards but what the host, Chris Rock, was going to say?

A different kind of racism

CLICKY: Back… I had to go to the Blue Universe…

hello-sweetie

*You took your time, Click. I’m just getting on to our OZcar win…*

 

inside out

I posted knot-eyes at ‘Quantum Leap of Faith’ in the Red Universe.

Roobee mentions oscar win

*Great movie, Clicky, we should watch it again. Let me make myself a coffee first… /returns with look of disgust… I thought you went off to get some milk…*

 

30 thoughts on “The Junkie, the Nanny and Doctor Hoo,’K?”

  1. Ask my children who nurtured them. They know, because I told them. Not sure about the dog though. I think she likes me. Or perhaps it’s just Dinner Time. It’s always Dinner Time to her.
    But then I treated them all like recalcitrant Puppies. This could well have worked better on the children because none of them ever bit me, although none of my dogs ever did it more than once. A quick slap around the chops took care of that. It was an instinctive reaction to me, so I might have done the same to the children if they ever had. Or maybe the children saw what would happen.
    Rule Britannia.

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      1. I once had a litter of Shar Peis, and one of them had the makings of a real horror story. In the end I had to leave him with a neighbour if I went out, because he would beat up the other puppies.
        I should never have sold him, of course. And I do feel guilty about that. I might have been able to do something with him, but I never tried. God knows how many other dogs he killed. Shar Peis are not known for their tolerance of other dogs.
        He was just about perfect, standard wise, and you don’t get too many of those in the ghastly breeding game.
        Instead, I got landed with his litter brother who had dodgy eyes, and who turned out to be the sweetest thing. Almost my second Hamlet. But even he wasn’t slow at coming forward if he saw aggression directed at him.

        But then Hamlet, the Afghan, my first ever real dog love, and a great wimp, put paid to some poxy Labrador, whose owner thought it might be fun to wind them up.
        So I expect that children sometimes have the same problems.

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        1. Funnily enough, I met a lovely Shar Pei puppy called MJ at the hairdressers yesterday.

          Growing up, we didn’t have any dogs around. Mostly cats plus an adventurous tortoise called Fred. Incredibly hairy Klaus and sea lion-sleek Poppy are the only two dogs we’ve owned. A german shepherd and a dachshund – if I’m honest, they owned us more than we owned them 😉

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          1. Well, Charlotte, the ever Pissing Pug is a revaluation to me. I rescued her when she was seven years old. And I will never rescue another dog as long as I live. I have no stamp on her, you see. So I tolerate things from her that wouldn’t happen with puppies that I have nurtured.
            She went a bit peculiar almost as soon as I brought her home, quite normal with elderly Pugs, it seems, except that I didn’t know that. Silly me.

            But then there was always Carla. A fourteen year old Afghan that no one wanted. And such a quiet joy she was. My Vet kept her going for three more years in ways that I would no longer entertain. Steroids and all that shit. So one might wonder who I think I am.

            And I do so understand the sea lion sleek. Silkies. Those of Legends. Some of them inhabit dry land.

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              1. These are the ones, Roobee. There are more things in heaven or on earth, Horatio. You can feel a Silkie just by touching it. Or even the pleasure of doing so. Isn’t that enough. Just the pleasure of such a beautiful thing.

                I have never had one, and I won’t be looking. But I might one day.

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                1. I keep trying to figure out a way to ask, but my bible-belt upbringing in conjunction with a learned respect for other’s beliefs is causing me great dismay. Perhaps my stupid can be eluded at some juncture… wouldn’t count on that tho. So yeah, yer prolly safe from me asking questions. Carry on.

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      1. Yeah, maybe haven’t been clear enough as to the numbness of my numb. Guess I’m focusing too much on my dumb. Kinda the same thing tho right?

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  3. Roobster as you know I used to live north of the wall in the same town as Orwell wrote his book under the watch of Big Sister who didn’t like him smo king. Which syncs with The Woman in Black and the s eve red head and the female artificial intelligence the Borg Queen who wants to ASSimilate US.

    I also used to teach up north and I ended up being a counsellor as the kids were traumatised by the brainwashing and bullying of the borg drones the biggest complaint from the pupils was the teachers were so boring….with no personality…the borg is inner space bad trouble…

    the borg queen is an dog ynous and also very cranky

    german hellmutt heads

    assimulate US into the simulation become a part of the MAATRIX….its very stimulating all those holographics…

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  4. We have to hold the Bridge Roob the Shadow shall not p ass through the ring

    You know me I am always up for a fight or so they say so I decided to do my own simulation earlier today

    My annu(s)al train p ass has been caincelled. ;(

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      1. No Elena you’ve passed on and over the bridge to the other side….. to twin peaks

        Hello Im Agent Cooper 🙂

        and at any moment Clicky is going to throw me out

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      1. That’s it. I’m In where ever. Just tell me where to go.

        Fortunately, i can’t vote in the In or Out Thingy because I don’t have a vote in that one. But I couldn’t be trusted if I did. And I much doubt if anyone can.

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        1. Sure you can be trusted. I have no reason not to trust you, so why wouldn’t I trust you? Mutual respect is like…mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. rawr

          Hello’s are hard so why wouldn’t goodbyes be hard?

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          1. Well, I would vote for Out. But it doesn’t actually affect me.

            But it’s a bit too convoluted for me to explain. And I really can’t be bothered anyway. Too much water under the bridge and never any real commitment.

            Brits never were Europeans. They are an Island Race. Bugger The Continent. Although one might ask which Continent. For some strange reason Britain seems to think that Europe is the only Continent that ever existed. It isn’t..

            Britain dumped New Zealand when it joined The Common Market. Shock, Horror. What Treachery. But you can still buy New Zealand Lamb by the bucket load anywhere in Europe and Britain. And cheaper. And it is really okay.
            So who is fooling who? Where is Trade going to stop? Who is going to win by staying in or getting out? Just some poxy Politician for either side, which ever one wins.

            And I can’t be arsed to care about immigrants. There is loads of space in France, if they want to live the sort of life that I live. If they want the sort of jobs that I have done, clearing Chicken Sheds in the middle of the night. But even that had it’s funny side. And on reflection, I wouldn’t have missed that for the world. I can pick up four chickens in each hand, and on the run. That’s how good my hands are.
            And then we went to the Farm House for a bloody good breakfast and a bit too much to drink at something like 8 o’clock in the morning, and all drove home a bit pissed. That’s my France, where no one is ever rude to me, and takes me for who I am.

            I suppose that I should have Blogged about this, but it comes as I feel, and always best not kept for mine own self aggrandisement. Otherwise, I might not ever talk about it.

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            1. “Well, I would vote for Out”

              Thought about this a bit and I guess I know what it’s about, but irrespective of can or can’t vote, why isn’t NOT/WON’T a consideration? Why isn’t NEITHER a consideration? A choice NOT to choose is as much of a choice as any other regardless of what we are “told.” To me, that is telling the “powers” that “you have eliminated part of the electorate in your narrowing of selections, you have failed me at representing me as I am represented in neither choice. Therefore, as a participating member of the electorate, I choose not to choose from the choices you have limited me to. Which renders me…choiceless, unrepresented.”

              Isn’t that the cornerstone of liberty? Freedom? Choice? The ability to choose even if it is not to choose, and to feel OK about “choosing to stay out of it?”

              Dennis Miller made a statement years ago about the most endangered species in America being some who “retains” their freedom of speech. Pro-choice. That is a choice. It’s not wishy washy. It’s decidedly decided if you ask me. But I’m partial to trusting the voting population to keep doing whatever in the fuck it is that they’re doing. I’ve only voted once, for one reason, for one person, for one office, and I found the whole process…um…overblown.

              May you live in interesting times. We do. So did they. So will they.

              Pete: Wait a minute. Who elected you leader of this outfit?
              Everett: Well Pete, I figured it should be the one with the capacity for abstract thought. But if that ain’t the consensus view, then hell, let’s put it to a vote.
              Pete: Suits me. I’m voting for yours truly.
              Everett: Well I’m voting for yours truly too.
              [Everett and Pete look at Delmar for the deciding vote]
              Delmar: Okay… I’m with you fellas.
              Movie = O’Brother Where Art Thou

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    3. 😀 Elena, it’s a bit like this:

      Btw, have you managed to bag any wild rabbits yet?

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