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While I Was Away

Books & Movies, Entertainment

…I binge-watched the outstanding Hinterland TV series (again), and it’s just as powerful as I remembered.  (Warning:  it’s set in Wales, so there’s an Unpronounceable Name Alert.  But the dialogue is crisp and comprehensible, despite that.)

Also, I revived my double crush on Mali Harries (she of the exquisite, porcelain-like skin):

  

…and Hannah Daniel (the gorgeous blonde sergeant with drop-dead dimples):

   

 

Twenty (20) straight hours of moody, intense viewing.  In a couple of years, I’ll probably do it again.

News Summary

Bad News


...yeah, try peddling the fear thing somewhere else.  We’re done with it.


...to the surprise of absolutely nobody.


...curfews being about as useful as gun control laws for constraining the lawless.  And:


...yup.  Keep the pool clean and you won’t have bacterial outbreaks in the water.


...and if anyone thinks that this will result in lower utilities prices in Britishland, I have a NYC bridge to sell you.  Speaking of morons:


...final proof that prolonged smoking of weed can fuck your brain up irreparably.


...wake me up for the perp walk.
#NotGonnaHappen


...remember this incident the next time ICE agents shoot some asshole for trying to run them over.


...until the AfD is banned outright.
#EuroAssholes

Alfa Romeo’s New Giulia Shooting Brake
Looks Too Good to Be True
...it’s just a station wagon, FFS.  (Alfa Romeo:  manufacturers of disappointment since 1975.)


...in other news, Lee surrenders to Grant at Appomattox.


...well, so much for that approach.


...which would be one reason why White Brit women seem to be so enamored of African men.  And speaking of chicks who won’t cause erections:


...oh, joy.  She was horrible back then, and the passing of time has not made any improvements.  (No pics because mass vomiting.)

Airline passenger asked to tip 18% at
self-checkout kiosk
…#PayCashToAvoidRipoffsLikeThis


...I wondered where she’s been.  Hiding under several men, no doubt.


...finally, some body [sic] worth looking at.  [insert “fine vintages” line here]

Excuses, Excuses

Health

Whenever I get these upper-respiratory infections (about every nine months or so, it seems), the physical ailments (hacking cough, wheezing, nasal clogging etc.) are bad, but what really screws me up is the physical and mental lassitude that occurs not only during the illness, but persists for days and days thereafter.

Hence the paucity and dare I say crappy quality of the posts over the past couple of weeks, for which I am truly sorry.

It’s not only that:  to give you another example, my half-dozen per-month range visits have dwindled, in the past couple of weeks, to zero.  I think I’m going to get a call from Texas Legends any day now, asking if I’m okay.

I don’t even have the energy to drive over to pick up Rx refills from the drugstore, even though the on-hand supplies are dwindling fast.

We had dinner at Doc Russia’s place last Sunday night — our first dinner together in ages.  Normally, our dinners last well into the night, involving much food, drink, conversation and general merrymaking.  This time, after barely a couple of hours, I had to call it quits, an indecently-short time after dinner.  Never had a drop to drink, either.

All of which is my way of saying that this website has sucked over the past couple of weeks, and I know it.

I’m slowly — far too slowly — starting to get better, proof of which is that I actually took out the range bag yesterday and loaded it up with ammo for some testing I’ve been meaning to do.  (In case you’re curious:  the difference in felt recoil between .357 Mag, .38 +P and regular .38 Special loads across a couple-three revolvers of different brand and barrel lengths.)

I don’t know if I’ll make it to the range today — I really have to get those meds refilled, and I’m not sure I have the energy for two trips.  Following my semi-annual visit to the eyedoc two days ago, I also need to get new lenses for my failing eyesight;  fuck knows when I’m going to get round to that, but I really need to be able to read things like street signs and such.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to unload all this shit on you;  but you, my Loyal Readers, deserve some explanations for the website suckage of the past couple of weeks:  and there they are.

I’ll be posting at intervals over the next few days as the energy provides, just not in a five-minute post-midnight tranche as usual.  Bear with me.

Personal Recommendations

Architecture, Food & Drink

Here’s a list of “proper old” Brit pubs, for those who are either of a Brit persuasion or else part of a vanishingly-small number who actually want to visit Britishland.

For the record, I’ve been to four of them (The Bell, The George, The Coach & Horses and The King’s Head) and had a great time in all.  (By the way, the interiors of The George and The King’s Head are stunningly alike — when I saw the pic of the latter in the article, I thought for a moment that it was the George.)

That said:  when I was at The Bell, the beer selection was absolute shit — even Mr. Sorenson had trouble finding something decent, and we ended up drinking cider (ugh).  The George, of course, serves Wadworth 6X and their lamb pie is excellent.  I don’t recall much about the C&H because I was drinking there with either The Englishman or Mr. Free Market, and after those kind of epic sessions, memory is frequently foggy:  probably caused by sundry pints of Fuller’s London Pride, in retrospect.

I don’t know about the other pubs mentioned in the article, but they look excellent.

Missing from the list, however, is my absolute favorite, The King’s Arms in All Cannings:

…as is Salisbury’s Haunch of Venison:

Very much worth a visit, despite the lack of 6X.

Sick Transit

Architecture, Resistance

Francis Turner has written a piece that I could have written, only he’s not insane with rage and uses a lot fewer swear words.

That’s “the late” Limoges Hôtel de Ville (Town Hall), as it’s since been torched by Muslim/African/Communist (some overlap) rioters during the recent Scuffles.

Untouched by anyone (so far, we should be so lucky) are excrescences such as this:

…and our own inverted turdpile:

I don’t want to go on, for reasons of both repetitive boredom and depression.  Read Francis’s piece instead.