As the UK government ploughs on with the insanity that is Brexit, and on the day that Labour loses one of its safest seats to the Tories, what the hell, you might begin to wonder, has the leader of Her Majesty's Most Loyal Opposition got to say about the price of fish?
Well, this tweet from last November might offer some insight:
For many years, the late tosser Fitz and I would retire to his house after our weekly Tuesday-night pub session to drink loads of coffee and listen to music. Fitz was a big folk music fan, so he would invariably end up playing some Blowzabella. Blowzabella was a British folk band that specialised in playing droney instruments: violins, bagpipes, hurdy-gurdies, that sort of thing. They were pretty magnificent.
I write in the past tense, because I always assumed Blowzabella stopped making music years ago. Imagine my surprise and delight earlier this week, therefore, when I learnt they're still going strong, and churning out magnificent rackets like this:
Guardian:Wikipedia bans Daily Mail as 'unreliable' source
Wikipedia editors have voted to ban the Daily Mail as a source for the website in all but exceptional circumstances after deeming the news group “generally unreliable”… The editors described the arguments for a ban as “centred on the Daily Mail’s reputation for poor fact checking, sensationalism and flat-out fabrication”.
There is nothing ‘coincidental’ about a lunar eclipse occurring during a full moon: every lunar eclipse that ever happened occurred during a full moon.
For a lunar eclipse to occur, the sun and moon must be on opposite sides of the earth. The same configuration is required for a full moon. The only difference is that, during a lunar eclipse, the sun, earth, and moon happen to line up exactly, causing the earth's shadow from the sun to be cast on the moon.
Spotted in the gents' loo at the Birch Service Station on the M62 this morning: a businessman operating two hand-driers simultaneously, one for each hand.
Now there's a man with not enough time (and too much water) on his hands, I thought. I wouldn't mind betting he'd read some self-help book on personal productivity: 200 Killer Hacks to Save Yourself an Hour a Day, or some such nonsense.
To complicate matters, the middle of the three hand-driers wasn't working, so the man had to extend his arms to full-stretch to accomplish his astonishing time-saving feat. He looked for all the world like Jesus hanging on the cross—albeit Jesus in a snazzy business suit. I would have liked to grab a photo, but realised taking pictures of men in gents' loos was the sort of thing likely to get me arrested.
Still, though, what a thoroughly efficient man! There was a chap who understood the true value of his time: so much more precious than that of the fat, bearded bloke standing behind him with dripping hands.