Latest Posts

So Get A Replacement

Marketing / Advertising, Sports

Seems like Britishland’s little darling has been having problems:

Emma Raducan, 21, shot to fame after winning the US Open in 2021 as an 18-year-old. She had been handed a £125,000 911 Carrera GTS Cabriolet under a lucrative sponsorship with the luxury motor brand which began in 2022.

However, what sponsors giveth, they may also taketh away:

However, last month Raducanu saw her pride and joy taken from her after the company “took it back”.  One of her associates is quoted by the Daily Mail as saying: “Emma no longer has a Porsche.  They took it back. It used to have pride of place at her home.”

Porsche has a history of suddenly pulling the plug on sponsorship deals they do not feel are value for money, including when athletes are not meeting expectations.

…and our little girl has won pretty much nada  since her US Open victory, so perhaps it was unsurprising.

Anyway, she had a two-word comment of joy the other day, because apparently Porsche gave her another one (I suppose because they didn’t want to look like the heartless bastards they are).

Had I been a well-paid tennis star going through a bad patch, I know what my two-word response would have been after the snatchback:  “Hello, Ferrari.”

Along with several more words, few of them printable in a newspaper, and not very complimentary towards Porsche either.

But that’s just me.

Afterthought:  Of course, Emma could always have gone with Mercedes, judging by their own recent losing record in Formula One… kindred spirits, so to speak. [/snark]

Boll Weevil

Elections

…wait, I meant Poll Evil.

So I went over to the polling station yesterday to vote against Godless Communism, and of course this being north Texas, it was busier than a $5 hooker during Fleet Week.  Fortunately, there were a jillion of those horrible voting machine thingies, so there was no wait.

While signing in, I made the usual joke about my name (“girl’s first name, French last name, but this week I’m identifying as a man”) which brought a tiny smile from the 100-year-old lady checking me in, her comment being, “And that’s a good thing”.  And I prepared to join the rest of the folks voting against Godless Communism — don’t ask me how I could tell;  it’s the district which Trump carried with 85% of the votes cast, FFS.

Except in my case, of course, because it appears I’d waited too late to change my voting address (I did it as part of changing the address on my driver’s license).  So when they checked the voters’ roll, my old address showed up.

I said, “Okay, I don’t mind going over to Plano to vote, ’cause I have some errands to run over there anyway” (which I did).

“Oh no,” says Great-Great-Granny Moses, “we can just change it right here seeing as it’s what your driver’s license allows.”

“Excellent,” says I, and to make a joke of the whole thing, I added, “So I can vote here, and then scoot over to Plano and vote there too?”

Dead. Silence.  From all the volunteers.

Oops.  Then from Great-Great-Granny Moses, one word:  “Nope.”

“I’d never do that, of course,” I say quickly, trying to thaw the atmosphere, “because people might think I’m a Democrat.”

Some muted chuckles (from only a few of the volunteers) as my ballot was being printed out.   From Great-Great-Granny Moses, just a stony stare as she handed it over.

I scurried over to the machine with my tail between my legs, and tried to make up for my foolishness by voting against Godless Communism.

There are times, it seems, when it’s not safe to make a joke.  Even in Republican north Texas.

Department Of Righteous Shootings

Righteous Shootings

Ordinarily, I’d treat the end result of the story: “guy feels aggrieved, gets a machete and attacks, only to be shot dead by the attackee”  with something approaching glee, but as this story (sent By Reader Brad_In_IL, thankee) shows, things are often not as cut and dried:

According to authorities, 36-year-old Michel Lope Montes de Oca had contacted a mobile tire repair service to fix his car, and he got into an altercation with the mechanic who showed up and started working on his vehicle.

The customer became upset when he checked the tire that was installed on his car and found that it was a used tire, police said.

Now, let’s at least acknowledge that selling a used tire at a new-tire price is not an action that doesn’t require at least some pushback.  But “getting upset” should never involve grabbing a handy cutting implement and having at it.  Over-action, meet overreaction.

As Señor  Machete discovered, alas too late.

One must ask — although not condemn — why a tire repair guy would feel the need for self-protection in his job.  But if it’s his common practice to sell old tires as new, small wonder.

Left a bad taste in my mouth, this one did.

Retreads

Entertainment

I note with extreme displeasure that a retreaded version of The Day Of The Jackal  has been made, fortunately only on Brit TV so we won’t be subjected to it Over Here.

Why am I so dismissive?  As I wrote on this here website many years ago, I consider Forsyth’s novel to be quite possibly the greatest thriller ever written, and Zinneman’s movie adaptation likewise excellent, for the simple reason that he followed the novel’s format almost to the letter.

Would that other directors followed his example;  his, and that of the late Franco Zeffirelli (Romeo and Juliet).  But no they don’t, of course:  mostly, the novels are twisted beyond all recognition into something else, something else of far lesser value (e.g. the dreadful remake of Jackal, with Bruce Willis and Richard Gere).

I’m sorry I mentioned that;  I too have the faint taste of near-regurgitation in my mouth now.

Anyway, I think it’s time to do something more valuable with my time, like heading off to the polling booth.