Just a little distraction

Can you just imagine...taking just one of those "pins" at the periphery of that racket, and pick any other one...now, give me a Third approximation.
My brain hurts at the thought. edit...all of them seem shorted all the way around the perimeter...

----------------------------------------------------------------------Rick..........
 
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It has to be said that I had strictly two left feet when it came to Soccer. 😱

But somehow I pursuaded my Dad to buy me some "George Best" 1960 soccer boots. At huge expense. £30 was a lot of money in those days.

For those who don't know, George Best was the most good-looking and talented Soccer player of the 1960's.

TBH, it scarcely improved my game. I am not a Man of physical prowess. But God Bless Dad for investing in me. I have always been better at Maths. 😀

And, FWIW, buying me a heavy Wisden Autograph Bat did nothing for my hopeless Game of Cricket. But I had a good time with my Gary Sobers bat. My brother borrowed it and went onto great things.

He competed with Sir. Vivian Richards and famous England fast bowler Bob Willis. I like to think I helped him in some hopeless way. 🙄
 
This is the Lounge, right? So we just enjoy the mediocrity of Life on Planet Earth... 🙁

One disaster after another.

I wanted to ramble about Unionist US Civil War survivor Ambrose Bierce.

About 150 years ago he published "The Devil's Dictionary". Amongst the greatest US books of the last Century, the only funny one.

Ambrose Bierce said:
"A Conservative: A person enamored of existing Evils. As opposed to a Liberal, who wants to replace them with new ones."

"Lawyer: A person skilled in circumventing the Law."

I was studying Portsmouth's finest son, Charles Dicken's today. We can lay proud claim to having had Europe's worst slum, Portsea, in about 1830. Wherein Dicken's grew up. His Dad then took him to London and fell into Debtor's Prison, and his family into the poorhouse in Marshalsea Road, Southwark.

One of the strange things about London, is you can still visit "The Old Curiosity Shop". Little Nell, an' all that. It's still there. As is the Bethlehem Hospital aka the lunatic asylum Bedlam, though now "The Imperial War Museum."

Whenever I take friends to London, I always delight in showing them "Grape Lane". It used to have a more earthy name. 😀
 
Galu said:
Have a butchers at this model of Manhattan made from recycled electronic components.
I should explain that what Scotsman Galu calls a butchers is actually London or Cockney rhyming slang for a "butchers hook" or look. Londoners were notoriously criminal back in the day. Being sharp-witted, and expected to live to a mere 35-y-o in the typhoid-infested 1870s we quickly got with the program. We disguised our language in a creditable effort to avoid the Cops.

It's called Criminal Argot. Personally, I subscribe to Honesty at every turn. What have Ye to fear? Me, I'm trying to build a better World.

Bu I can't protect you from a World that little cares whether you live or die. How it is. 😱
 
I can only tell you what I know, yon wee Scottish lad. 🙂

My first job in London was working in Dr. Johnson's House. Anchor Terrace in Southwark Bridge Road, London, as it goes.

For those who don't know, Dr. Johnson ( a mere compiler of dictionaries, as he called himself) was famously and humourously scathing about the Scots. He opined that OATS were fed to Racehorses in England. But were the staple diet of the SCOTS.

More interestingly, IMO, the Bard of Stratford lived round the corner. He had his Theatre nearby. Evidently hallowed turf. Anyone who is tired of London is tired of life! 😀

But as you know, my Dad fought alongside the 51st. Highland Division. We are a band of brothers. 😎
 
He opined that OATS were fed to Racehorses in England. But were the staple diet of the SCOTS.
And they still are! 😛
 

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I gotta be honest.

I am quite fond of Porage myself.

853708d1592421702-little-distraction-1kg-oats-jpg


And your Nicola Sturgeon is looking a more attractive prospect than our Boris.

I must reread my Dad's WW2 memoirs soon. Many were the times I went to Tower Hill and saw the plaque to the horrible H.M.S. Lancastria disaster. Happily he was ahead on the Battori. So got home safe.

It's all luck, IMO.