Cringe from the Fringe

I’ve got a job at the Water Company and it’s well boring.

My job at the Job Centre is OK but if I’m fired I’ll have to come in the next day to talk to my colleagues.

“Never Apologise! Never Explain!” – Sorry, that’s my motto.

I recently found out that I am genetically connected to a Native American tribe. The first thing I thought was “How?”

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Up Yours, Gaius Mucius Scaevola!

As we all know, GMS thrust his right hand into the fire to get right up Lars Porsena’s (of Clusium) nostrils. His claim, apparently, was that it was a significant sacrifice.

Rightist Bastard. Some of us would have been more distressed, had we had to present our sinister phalanges to the flame.

Anyhoo, and this is important to me. Today is, apparently, International Left Handers Day.

Whoopee! Not sure that there are any other Southpaws out there who are still posting to the Chariot.

Whatever! I am left-handed, right-brained and proud.

Forza la sinistra, non-politically.

Dear Boris

On behalf of my fellow afficionados, I must register the strongest possible objections to your inappropriate reference to the iconic British letter-box. Your context – the veil worn by some religious extremists – trivialises the vital role played by letter-boxes throughout the realm for centuries; and attributes undue importance to facial adornments.

An apology will suffice.

Yours etc.

British Association for Letter-box Lovers (BALLS)


A home girt by sea… and one that is not.

Well, it has to be done. On Tuesday, next week, I will be flying out to Awestruck-and-failure for a 3 week stint. My junior attachment will be participating in something called World Scholars, an academic forum involving children from 50 countries. The event is being held in the Melbourne Convention Centre form the 18th to 21st of August. Continue reading “A home girt by sea… and one that is not.”

G & T

I’ve rarely been known to refuse one. Schweppes and several fingers of gin. So it doesn’t surprise me to find that it’s now a bit of a cult – with go-to choices of both ingredients. Dwarling, you simply must try my elder-flower. Really cool, huh?

And by sheer coincidence, cool-speak is also defined by G and T. Not only is good pronounced gid but every -ing is an -in; every lot is a lo’. And most cringeful of all, like every plural subject attracts a singular verb.

Worse still we can’t point fingers at speakers of Estuary English or Brummy or Scouse. They are all at it! Like not cool at all.


Not a Happy Announcement

Some of you may still remember Terrible Turk from MyT days yore. He was acerbic, at times abrasive but, in the end, a true gentleman. He was a product of the early post-war years, a man who craved moral and social certainties and certitudes. He had a good career, 30 years in the Middle East for the US Geologic Survey with sojourns into South and South-East Asia. After his retirement, he settled in small-town Virginia where he became a fixture of the local social scene.

He was on my case for years, most recently because of my preference for stepping away from academia and moving, at least partially, into private industry. He was convinced that academia needed at least a few people who weren’t certifiable Bolsheviks amongst its ranks.

You may have noticed that I have discussed him in the preterite. This is no accident. I was informed less than half an hour ago that he has passed away. After a spirited battle with cancer, one that required having his bone marrow removed and replaced, Atropos did her grim deed.