heartlessly stolen from Pharyngula along with the title.
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Category Archives: Family
I married a spy…and all I got was this lousy cottage in Essex
Well I, personally, didn’t marry a spy, although there’s still time (interested parties leave contact details in comments section, plz). No indeed, this is a piece from the Guardian, interviews with three wives of, all of whom are well past their “tempt the Russian delegation with your best meatballs, won’t you dear?” stage, and only some of whom have recovered. Fascinating reading, if only for the satisfaction of thinking to yourself Well, I’d at least have shot someone for fuck’s sake! Might as well stay in the playgroup, you lot of wankers.
Special bonus pointlessly salacious and juvenile tidbit: the interviewer’s name is Fanny.
In 1939, 18-year-old Betty Farmer was being wooed by a man who was not only good-looking and charismatic, but also, apparently, had a job “in the film business”. When he whisked her off for a few days holiday in Jersey, she was surprised by the two rather shady looking men who accompanied them, but kept her concerns to herself.
On their second day away, over Sunday lunch, with the sunshine dancing on the sea outside, Betty‘s paramour kissed her briefly, before hurling himself through a closed window and running down the beach, chased by the police. Betty had no choice but to rely on his repeated promise: “I shall go, but I shall always come back.”
With a lede like that, how can you not finish the piece?
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Technorati me!
quiz: which Edgar Allan Poe poem are you?
Not a whole lot to choose from in this quiz, but what the hell…it’s Shebeen Club day, I’ve got two job applications and a report do to before I go to bed, and I’m running around like a raven with my tiny birdie teeth ripped out. That’s a doubly-obscure reference, for those of you who think Poe is a waiflike Nineties singer.
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You scored as Annabel Lee. Virginia Eliza Clemm Poe was dubbed as Lenore, Annabel Lee, and others in her husbands poems. She was his child bride who died when Poe was 38. He died two years later. this poem shows that love has an extreme importance to you, and even if that love stops, it never dies.
Which Edgar Allan Poe poem are you? |
Mad V: the message
Remember the Challenge? Here is the Message.
From the comments section:
I must admit. I’ve seen alot of pathetic movements come and go like flies on youtube, but this one, in some odd way, has wrapped me around it’s finger. Sitting here watching this video make it easy to agree with the message, but when you get up out of your chair, and walk outside, that’s when it really counts. This message is something to carry with you to the end of your days and possibly even then some.
Very well done, V. Very well done.
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Technorati me!
the faces of terror
According to the Americans, this is what a terrorist looks like:
and like this
and like this
Well, you may say, better safe than sorry. After all, we don’t know what the kid had in her diaper, and the first two are kinda swarthy-lookin’.
And yes, fair enough, they do look kinda tan for, respectively, a Canadian and a Swede, but since Maher Arar was cleared of terrorism charges and released after spending two years of torture in a Syrian prison(Syria being the US’s favorite offshore torture facility), and since Prince Carl Philip of Sweden is in line for the throne of a major European monarchy, besides being a total hottie, to keep Arar on the no-fly list and to arrest and detain HRH CP in jail overnight for using his diplomatic passport and looking insufficiently regal seems a tad…well, overzealous.
Whereas we have no sympathy whatsoever for the three year old girl who threw a screaming tantrum while her flight was boarding, and who was thrown off the plane and banned along with her parents for “attacking a woman” (who happened to be her mother). If empowered to do so, I myself would unhesitatingly throw off a plane anyone I felt looked like they could at some point in the flight become flatulent, hog the armrest, throw a screaming fit, attack someone, discuss real estate or smokers’ rights, or chew with their mouths open. And I wouldn’t wait for the bloody plane to land, either. Softies!
So, with passport requirements stiffening, even for US citizens trying to re-enter their own country — don’t misplace yours. If it can happen to Swedish royalty, it can happen to anyone.
Well, OK, there is one difference between royalty and us little guys in this situation…
“I got the impression that he thought it was quite exciting,” said documentary film maker Folke Rydén, who was traveling with the Prince as part of the filming project.
Special bonus British terrorist:
Jay Cowper, the tiny terrorist, the huggable hoodie.
The shop, which serves the well-to-do Huntington area of York, is only a five-minute walk from the family home but it was a cold and windy night so Jay was wrapped up in a brown Next jacket with a furry hood.
Mrs Cowper said: “No sooner had they got inside than the shopkeeper said to my husband, ‘Could you ask the little boy to remove his hood?’
“My husband said, ‘He’s only two and a half, I don’t think he’s going to rob you!’“
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Technorati me!
raincoaster 