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Monday Funnies (delayed)

Funny Stuff

So to alleviate the pain somewhat, a little mirth:

My guess is that the above did not originate in this branch:

And on a philosophical note:

And speaking of mystical things, let’s do a little yoga:

The mirror broke, sorry.

Anyway, get out there and back into the spirit of things…

No Kidding

Disaster, Weather

I know, we all have a good chuckle at stuff like this:

And then there’s this, which pushes the needle even past Code Red (click to embiggen):

I know, I make fun of our Oz friends a lot on these here pages, but this is no laughing matter:

About 100,000 homes in the Sydney area are said to be at risk, with 31,500 of those being in the city’s North Shore. Residents have been warned to take action before it’s too late.
‘Under these conditions, some fires may start and spread so quickly there is little time for a warning, so do not wait and see,’ the Rural Fire Service said on Monday.
‘There are simply not enough fire trucks for every house. If you call for help, you may not get it. Do not expect a firetruck. Do not expect a knock on the door. Do not expect a phone call. Your safest option will always be to leave early.’

Sheesh.

Looks like everything’s more dangerous Down Under:  snakes, spiders, sharks, Train Smash Women — and now, fires.

Good luck, me old cobbers.  Holding thumbs on this side of the water…

Insanity

Hunting

For reasons known only to our Immigration bureaucrats (don’t ask), I was not able to join Mr. Free Market, Doc Russia and Combat Controller for the annual deer slaughter stalk in the Cairngorms this year (for my experiences two years ago, see here and here).  I was feeling somewhat peeved about it all, until Mr. FM sent me this pic:

I should point out that the temperature for the town nearby is given as 33°F for the daytime high, and about 5 degrees lower tonight.  I should also point out that this is a complete lie, as the temperature up in the hills  — where all the hunting takes place — is probably ten degrees colder than that, and that’s before  the 20mph wind kicks in.  I think the term is “witch’s tit cold”.

Suddenly, I’m not feeling as peeved as I was.  Tonight’s forecast low of 30°F here in Plano seems quite balmy by comparison, especially as I’ll be sitting indoors with a brandy & ginger ale in hand, and not freezing my nuts off in the Angus Glens.

Cheers, guys…