Just Three

Evil Bastard I mean Loyal Reader Petec directs my gaze to this bunch of Brit ne’er-do-well resto-modders, and my question to everyone is this:

Forget the price, and ignore the fact that it may have been sold;  list your top 3 of the cars on either the “Blue Chip” or “Prestige” pages.

Mine are, in no specific order:

Trying to pick a #1 from this lot is like trying to pick a favorite child.

And if New Wife wanted in, I’d get her this little beauty (because she thinks most modern sports cars are utterly vulgar and horrible):

It’s a good thing that I haven’t won the lottery, or these guys would be getting a visit from me.

News Roundup

Your favorite quickie news flashes of the week:

1) Goalie wins AK-47 for being badass — my kinda team award altogether;  although he’d better not bring that bad boy with him to the U.S. or else “Beta” O’Rourke will take it away from him.  [eyecross]

2) Trannie fired for classless attack on conservative woman — only fired?  He/she deserves a whipping.  Nebraska ain’t the state I remember — although this happened in Lincoln, which is to Nebraska as Austin is to Texas.

3)  Trump will “probably” support some kind of gun control legislation — I was going to say something about this, but I have to go buy some more AK ammo right now.  Back in a moment.

Okay… now where was I?

4)  All Democrats would ban fracking — as if higher taxes, gun control, [299 other bullshit policies]  aren’t sufficient reason not to vote for any of these fucking loons.

5)  “Genitalia is not an indicator of gender and it can be harmful to assume so” — ummm no;  actually, I’m pretty sure that ownership of a dick is the primary way to determine that someone’s a bloke, whether he uses it the Elton John Way or the John Holmes Way.  Ditto the vag — although Beto “Gimme Your ARs and AKs” O’Rourke (despite the alleged ownership of a penis) is still a total cunt, regardless of which way he swings.  Frankly, this so-called “gender fluidity” is a symptom of mental instability, not something to be proud of.  And to hell with the whole LGBTOSTFU rabble, while I’m on the topic, because it leads to insane shit like this.

6)  Climate change assholes admit to a fucking great liequelle surprise.  This one was about the vanishing polar bear population scare, which was based on a single photograph.  Sadly, there will be no floggings.

7)  Gun Sales Spike Despite Democrat Efforts To Slow It Down — substitute “because of” for “despite”, and you have a more truthful headline, RedState.

8)  Frogs and Brits go on strike, as usual — and Kim points to his earlier suggestion to re-institute flogging for unionized workers, as we do here in Texas*.


*Okay, we don’t actually  flog unionistas  in Texas, but it’s not for lack of trying.

 

Friday Night Music

From a musician’s perspective, the South Africa of my youth — that would be White South Africa — was very similar to the southern states of Murka, in that they loved  country music.  Demographically, White South Africa outside the cities was largely rural in character, and I think that other than cowboy hats and stitched boots, those people had more in common with the American South than, say, New Yorkers of the Manhattan persuasion.

So we had a lot  of country music in our repertoire when not playing in and around Johannesburg — and sometimes even then.  Here’s a sample:

Mr. Bojangles — Nitty Gritty Dirt Band (killed two birds with one stone by playing this song:  country, and  a waltz)

If I Said You Had A Beautiful Body — Bellamy Brothers (cheesy as hell — but man, people loved this song, as they did the next one)

Kiss You All Over — Exile (note: for the time — mid-1970s — the lyrics for this and the previous song were unbelievably suggestive.  Sometimes I still miss that innocence.)

Lying Eyes — Eagles (I know, some would say the Eagles weren’t a country band;  I would suggest that before Joe Walsh joined them, they were.  Another crowd-pleaser, this one:  I think we performed it every time we played outside a club.)

Sunday Morning Coming Down — Kris Kristofferson (and by the way, our guitarist Martin had a MUCH better voice than Kristofferson:  pure velvet)

It’s A Heartache — Bonnie Tyler (I know, she’s a Brit;  but the song is pure Nashville.  And I used to sing it, because I could — and still can — do that raspy-voice thing like Rod Stewart and Joe Cocker.)

Stranger In My House — Ronnie Milsap (his version is a little too  country;  we hardened it up into a rock song.  By the way:  I saw Milsap live after I came over to the U.S., and to this day I think he’s the greatest percussive pianist ever.)

Love Is In The Air — John Paul Young (everyone in the band hated this thing — and everyone in the audience loved  it.  Talk about selling out…)

Next week:  old-time rock ‘n roll.

So Much For Progress

at least when it comes to buying food:

A checkout-free Sainsbury’s branch has reinstalled its tills after just three months because customers chose to queue at the helpdesk to pay in the traditional way, rather than use the app.
The Holborn Circus shop was made till-free in April this year, with customers able to pay for products using the company’s app on their phone – in a drive to speed up shopping.
Shoppers download an app, called SmartShop then scan the barcode of the items they want to buy.
But the experiment resulted in long queues at the help desk, as people tried to pay for their groceries in the traditional way.

See, I know where this came from.  Some twerp in Finance looked at the staffing costs and recommended to Management that the company eliminate people altogether from their stores.
“But how do we do that?”  Management cried.
“Fear not,” said IT (or a $2,000/hour team of consultants from Bain, after a 2-year study), “We can just force people to use Technologeh!”

So now Sainsbury’s has had to re-install checkouts and hire staff — but the Finance / IT / consultant wizards are not dangling from lamp posts along Holborn Street, as would have happened under the reign of World-Emperor Kim.

And more’s the pity, methinks.

Gag Reflex

This article sparked my interest simply because I have a personal “worst dish” (one I will never eat, under any circumstances):

Irish Stew

Seriously, just looking at the pic makes me gag.

It’s a strange thing because lamb is one of my favorite meats of all — if roasted or barbecued — but I think it’s the lamb fat released in the cooking of the stew which revolts me — after eating it, one’s mouth and teeth are coated in a furry slime which

Ugh, I can’t write anymore or I’ll puke.

So, Gentle Readers:  what’s your  won’t-eat-at-any-cost dish?