Beaver and Big Wood picture

Beaver shots are very popular among fans of the ol’ raincoaster blog, and it must be said that other than the drunken beaver shot, we haven’t had much beaver around these parts lately except my own, which very few of you have had, it must be said, and certainly not in any way that enables saving it to your hard drive. I mean, how long would it stay hard, if you did that?

Where was I?

Beaver shots. Right, beaver shots. I saw this one featuring young beaver and major wood on the Fail blog and though I’d share its shiver-inducing potency with the loyal readers here. Of course, it’s hidden behind the page jump for lo, we are terribly discreet, mofos.

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what we have here is a failure to communicate

Evian MermaidBut a very amusing one.

Now, I like British newspapers. I particularly like British newspaper websites; sure, the design is horrifically clunky and it’s impossible to find what you want, but you often find what you actually need (hey, is that a British informatics archetype? I seem to have heard it somewhere before). Compared to the CBC, for instance, the layout of the Guardian Online is an impeccable nested article-delivery device. Why the CBC prefers to present no more than a dozen stories on one subject area at one time, no matter how many clicks you may give it, is a mystery to all but the mandarins in Ottawa and they all get the news from their servants. But that is a communications failure rant for another time.

This time, we’re talking about (aboot?) those slight idiosyncratic variations in phrasing and meaning from one continent to the next. You know, how the British sports writing is only seemingly written in English and how we in The Americas still use the word “gotten” and that sort of thing. We’re talking about the truck/lorry issue, really.

Or if we’re not, Britain must be much more lively than I’ve always heard.

We are talking about this harmless-looking article on good places for beach and snorkling holidays with good access to clubs and nightlife. Demanding people, they are. Probably expect to get Newcastle Brown there as well, but that’s beside the point.

The point is that on the front page of The Esteemed Guardian, this article is tagged with the drop-down descriptor:

Can you answer reader questions on water sports holidays?

Well, can you? I’ll start.

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St. Patrick’s Day Irish Jokes

St Patrick’s CatThese are the best Irish jokes you’ll hear all day, unless you go over to Smoke&Mirrors where I stole them from and read the whole whack all at once.

It should be noted (or is that “noted it should be”?) that:

I’m Irish Catholic on one side and Irish Protestant on the other, my favorite pub is the impeccably authentic Irish Heather, I host a literary gathering that meets at the Shebeen, the women of my immediate family are somewhat, and quite inconveniently from time to time, renowned for the Second Sight, my uncle goes over to Ireland on vacations to teach them how to play the fiddle, my grandfather was an infamous warlock, and there’s a Bend Sinister in the gene pool somewhere for bonus points.

So I have total Celt cred.

1586 words of the most amusing Irish jokes around over the jump. But not the leprechaun nun one. Gross!

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Sex and Death for St. Patrick’s Day

Michael Hutter’s painting on sex and death

How Irish. It was either post about sex and deathor go read some James Joyce, and who can handle that sober, eh? I ask yez.

In news sure to warm the rapidly-cooling cockles of convenience-minded necrophiliacs and suicidal sex addicts alike, the Swiss self-offing rights group Dignitas has opened a sort of members-only Hotel California(you can check out, but you have to leave in a box via the freight elevator) next door to a brothel.

From the Guardian:

Dignitas had launched a mobile service after being forced to leave its Zurich flat. It admitted last November that it had dispatched four people – including two in public car parks in Swiss beauty spots.

The country’s law insists that agencies that help arrange assisted deaths do it for ‘honourable reasons’ and do not profit from death, apart from charging basic fees. Dignitas claims that the cost of organising suicides is £5,000.

Karl Rütsche, a spokesman for Schwerzenbach council, said it was not happy when it heard Dignitas had settled in its community but was powerless to act. ‘Of course, as a council we tried to stop them moving here and we fought the Dignitas decision tooth and nail. We didn’t want the country’s biggest sex club and largest death factory side-by-side on our doorstep.’ He added: ‘Having lost the battle to keep them away at least we can say that – on a positive note – everyone now knows where Schwerzenbach is.”

True, dat. Too bad they won’t exactly become regular visitors. In related Irresistible Metaphor News, both the cat house and the death house are in the soul-killing confines of an industrial park. And Dignitas lost its earlier location because of some kerfuffle about corpses in the elevators. How undignified!

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What’s your spammer name?

Spammer

Makes total sense to me:

My Spammer Name is:

Meningitis G. Switchgear.
(What’s your spammer name?)

Stolen from SeismicTwitch

Now the question becomes, what do I spam for? I’m thinking Canadian pharmaceutical anti-inflammatories for overheated engines?

Are YOU a spammer? Take the Spammer Quiz from Spammers Anonymous and find out.

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