Now it’s Diana Rigg’s turn to shuffle off this mortal coil (or, as the title suggests:  “another one bites the dust”).   In an email to me, Mr. Free Market included this pic:

…and I’m fairly sure this would be how we all want to remember her.

R.I.P. to one of the classiest and sexiest Dames ever.

Heart Attacks

Apparently, the owner of this house suffered several heart attacks during its construction.  When I saw the pics, I nearly had a couple too, albeit for different reasons.

From the article:

Milkman-turned-builder and artist Barry Surtees began his vision for the glass palace in 2007.

Actually, it looks like something a one-time milkman might have built. As an art gallery, it might have been okay, albeit still high up on a Hillary-Clinton-Industrial-Strength Ugly scale.  As an actual house to live in?  Heart attack material.  It reinforces my hatred of All Things Modern more than does Lady Gaga or rap music .

I think I’m going to need an extra shot of gin with my breakfast today.

Good Question

From Scott Adams:

More than one, now that I think of it.  I used to watch the NFL on Sundays when there was nothing else (i.e. an off-week for F1, no major golf tournaments), and very occasionally a couple of Cubs baseball games (old habits die hard).  Never the NBA, AMQ (after Michael quit).  I only like watching hockey live, never on TV, and since I left Chicago, not that either.  (Actually, I stopped watching the Blackhawks when they moved out of the old atmospheric Chicago Stadium and into the bland new United Center, but that’s a rant for another time.)

Basically, I’m left with cricket (which is hardly ever on, thank gawd for YouTube), English football (which is hanging on by a fingernail because BLM support) and Formula 1.  And with F1 I’ve gone from keen support to sorta-maybe ever since Lewis fucking Hamilton suddenly realized he was Black (half-Black, to be precise, but let’s go with the Democrat / Afrikaner “single drop of blood” measure, as Hamilton is).  I used to watch F1 Sunday, which is a scene-setting show for the Grand Prix of the day, but as that has turned into a “Kneel for Black Lives Matter” orgy I stopped watching that shit, and now watch only the race itself.

If I do a rough count, I’ve gone from about 20-30 hours a week of sports viewing to about 4 or 5, and even that may slip a bit more if things get too unbearable.  (The English Premier League season has ended, so nothing there until September, it looks like.)

So in answer to the above question:  yeah, Scott;  BLM and the other Commie hangers-on have messed up sports for me too.

Further Back, Thanks

Saw this at Powerline last week, but while I agree with the sentiment, it doesn’t go back far enough.  So I’ve altered it slightly:

For the record, even though the early parts of the 70s were fair —> poor for me, the latter half absolutely rocked.  (I’d give details, but I’m not sure the statute of limitations has expired yet.  Yes, they were that bad.)

The 70s to me meant this:

…and this:

…even though what I was actually driving was one of these:

Also in the 70s:  no PC speech or behavior constraints;  no venereal diseases that couldn’t be treated by a couple shots of penicillin;  a body that not only worked to perfection, but could withstand any kind of ill-treatment I threw at it;  and girlfriends who didn’t have any kids.

Ask me again why I miss those times.

Fond Farewell

I see that British Airways is finally retiring their wonderful Boeing 747 airliners from service, which gives me yet one more reason not to fly with them.

Seriously:  if I ever had a choice between flying DFW-LHR-DFW on American or BA, I generally preferred to fly with BA even though my track record with the pocket-picking bastards has not always been a good one.  And the 747 was the only reason, because these ugly giants were designed back in the day when passenger comfort was the goal (as opposed to sardine-packing economic reasons, e.g. the 777), and Boeing aircraft could be relied on to act like airliners and not lawn darts (ahem  737MAX).

And call me a timorous wussy, but I’ve always preferred four engines over two when it comes to long-haul flights, because if I’m flying at 40,000 feet over an ocean, I like having the redundancy of lots of engines — no matter (or especially because) how much the engineers try to reassure me that two engines will be just the same, cross their hearts.  I know the odds;  and while one engine failure is bad with either a two- or four-engine aircraft, two engine failures will have a totally different outcome for a 777 versus  a 747.

Gah.  It’s probably a good thing that the Chinkvirus has fucked up international travel for a while.  It’ll give my irritation a chance to subside.

Pharoah Had It Easy

2020 has been interesting, plague-wise:

First, the Chinkvirus:

Next, Asian Murder Hornets:

Then, an infestation of BLM/Pantifas:

What could possibly come next in this foul year?


Which means that Florida and all the other Gulf of Mexico states are officially banned.