When trees fight back. // Every kid wants Batman teeth. // Vibrating constipation pills. // Blood worm. // Crows and coat hangers, the great mystery of our time. // Perfect shots. // Portable swing. // A tempting offer. You go first. // At last, scorpion pizza. // The fire makes it go faster, right? // Max and Ralphee. // Fermented herring explosions last for six hours. // Lava meets surf. // Lost cities found by satellites. // Synopsis of note. // All of Bach, performed weekly. // A guide to rappers’ vocabulary. // The jogger’s bell. // Brothers. // They call them knobs. // Math or maths? // Minimal tweeting. // Made of sand. // This is one of these. (h/t, PootBlog) // And finally, a live feed from orbit. Can you see your house yet?
"Fermented herring explosions last for six hours"
Headline at link: "Fermented herring explosion causes a stink"
Poor headline writer: That was the only headline possible; any other would have aroused the masses.
Posted by: dicentra | May 09, 2014 at 01:04
Vibrating constipation pills.
It's a brave new world. I bet they didn't have those on Star Trek.
Posted by: Rafi | May 09, 2014 at 06:46
"Max and Ralphee. "
Awwwww.....
"At last, scorpion pizza."
Don't tell me THAT'S halal too!
Posted by: JuliaM | May 09, 2014 at 07:30
A tempting offer. You go first.
Guild of Evil recruitment centre?
Posted by: svh | May 09, 2014 at 07:40
Guild of Evil recruitment centre?
Oh dear me, no. The Guild of Evil’s recruitment methods are much more civilised.
Posted by: David | May 09, 2014 at 07:54
The jogger’s bell.
Is the real reason for the brass in the bell so that it can double as a knuckle-duster in an emergency?
I suspect liberal use of such an accessory is likely to coincide with a massive upswing in the number of 'emergencies'.
Dinging that tiny little bell as if one had a greater claim than the hoi-polloi on the crowded pavements of the small yet densely populated UK town where I live would be only marginally less successful as an incitement to a bout of open-air fisticuffs than such well-seasoned classics as 'What the f**k are you lookin' at?', 'Are you lookin' at our lass?' or 'Oi! C**T!'
Posted by: Nikw211 | May 09, 2014 at 08:24
Blood worm.
KILL IT WITH FIRE!
Posted by: Joan | May 09, 2014 at 08:44
Vibrating constipation pills.
This is why the first blog I read on Fridays is this one.
Posted by: lurkio | May 09, 2014 at 11:23
Made of sand.
Nobody sneeze.
Posted by: Jacob | May 09, 2014 at 15:51
Dinner party wine bottle calculator.
Posted by: John D | May 09, 2014 at 16:36
I can't help thinking that 11 hours of Tibetan bowls-inspired meditation is overdoing it maybe just a little bit.
After, say, 2 or 3 hours one might feel one was relaxed enough, that will about do for the time being.
Might even be feeling a little peckish by that stage, I don't know.
Posted by: Henry | May 09, 2014 at 22:40
Blood worm.
For once, the YouTube comments were worth reading. Hilarious.
Posted by: Spiny Norman | May 10, 2014 at 19:02
Re: This is one of these,
Spike Milligan recalled a lecture he and his fellow Service artistes were given on VD before entering Austria for the first time:
" The Medical Orderly activated the projector and as the M.O spoke, we were subjected to a series of slides of mens genitals all in various stages of VD, from a small spot to a great red hanging blob. These were accompanied by cries of " Hard luck mate" and " Stick to wanking". It took about twenty minutes and then we were driven back to the Hotel."
Posted by: Jonathan | May 11, 2014 at 11:09