Funny Stuff – Page 127 – Splendid Isolation

Not Me

April 7, 2020 Kim du Toit Disaster, Funny Stuff

Glenn:

Me, post quarantine:

…and that’s a “best-case” scenario.

Monday Funnies

April 6, 2020 Kim du Toit Funny Stuff

And so we begin Self-Isolation Week 4:

But let’s not dwell on that, and bring on Teh Funny, the first of which was supplied to me by Reader Old Texan (thankee):

Remember the good old days, when we actually used to go to work?

…and something we all know:

But never fear:

And seeing as we’re wandering down that road:

And one final reminder: remember to maintain social distancing!! Like this:

…and not like this:

Not The Same

April 3, 2020 Kim du Toit Train Smash Women

Ordinarily at this time of year, we would be regaling ourselves with our annual Train Smash Women Extravaganza (i.e. Ladies Day at the Grand National at Aintree, Liverpool).

Unfortunately, this year’s event has been canceled because of the Chink Flu, so in desperation, the newspapers have resorted to measures such as this:

Despite cancelling the annual Grand National races due to the ongoing public health risk surrounding coronavirus, organisers of the event are adamant on enabling the races to still make their mark. They’re encouraging virtual racegoers to don their Sunday best and submit pictures of their outfits for consideration in its best-dressed awards.
Until now, only racegoers with tickets for the Aintree event have been able to enter the competition. But this year anyone is eligible to enter, simply by submitting a photograph of themselves in their outfit via the Ladies’ Day Facebook event page here. [link omitted]

This isn’t going to work, for obvious reasons. The fun part about Aintree is not the outfits; whenever the papers talk about “fashion stakes” and such, they’re always careful to picture the women as they arrive at the event, e.g.:

However, as any fule kno, the real entertainment only starts after the racecourse bars have been open for a couple hours, whereupon those carefully-groomed ladies turn quickly into Train Smash Women:

If all we’re going to get this year is fashion pics, then… pass, even though some of the outfits can be ummmm interesting:

But if the girls get into the spirit of the thing this year and get shitfaced before taking selfies in their homes, we’re in for a treat. If they’re like the above in public, imagine the scenario in private.

I’ll monitor the situation (because somebody has to), but I suspect that the papers won’t publish any good ones.

Unexpected Fascination

April 3, 2020 Kim du Toit Funny Stuff

Incentive And Compromise

April 1, 2020 Kim du Toit Funny Stuff, Men & Women

How would you like to own a house like this one, set in 1,100 acres of the gorgeous Wiltshire countryside:

According to its Wikipedia entry:

The grounds of the house are noted for their re-established wildlife, including fallow deer. The grounds are also noted as one of the top game bird shooting venues in the country: The Field magazine voted it one of the UK’s ten top venues for pheasant shooting.

Sounds all very pleasant, doesn’t it? As it happens, Ashcombe House belongs to movie director Guy Ritchie (of Lock Stock and Snatch fame), who came into ownership of the place as part of his divorce settlement from Madonna.

Which leads me to this question — posed to me originally by The Fiend Englishman — and, I think, it’s really a difficult one:

Would you sleep with Madonna for a couple-three years (as Ritchie did) if you knew that at the end of it all, you’d come to possess this fantastic estate?

Just so we’re clear on the topic, though: we’re not talking about this Madonna:

…nor even this Madonna:

No, we’re talking about this Madonna:

Now before everyone runs screaming from the room, I should point out (as did The Englishman) that along the way, you would probably have learned more than a few ~~revolting~~ naughty bedroom tricks which may (repeat may ) have made the eventual ownership of Ashcombe House a little less unpleasant; and indeed, Ritchie seems to have escaped more-or-less unscathed from his years-long encounter with Madge, along with possession of both his venereal health and his genitalia (which I admit thinking would have been a long shot in both cases).

So, Gentle Readers: a magnificent estate with lots of prime birdshooting, in exchange for a few years of plunging into Madame Grotesque’s well-trodden pudenda? Or is no real estate worth that sacrifice?

Your thoughts, in Comments.