The really boring and totally pointless snippets thread IV

[EA01]

He was miles away, if right outside the noise would have shook the house. You can hear the roar from 8 kms. We have been right alongside a few in full roar. It is not scary he is just telling other males he is there. Humans are not lion food they will only attack under certain circumstances which you avoid.

https://www.darlingdownszoo.com.au/gallery/big-cats

Yes, I took Mrs Fliegs out to the Darling Downs Zoo a few years back, and we fed some Lions chunks of meat with tongs through a wire fence, and yes, they had a roar alright when 'scrapping' amongst each other! I remember vividly that roar!

It was an amazing experience, but I'm not at all sure I like to see animals like that in enclosures.

The lion on his hind legs with his front paws on the fence, was well over my head, it was a pretty awesome experience even if I don't necessarily agree with keeping animals like that.

Also was a Bengal Tiger (?)

One thing for sure, they knew when the meat was coming! It came from the main building and whether it was smell or sound or time, they knew they were about to be fed!

[EA01]

Sumatran Tiger it was?...

The overwhelming nature of it all caused Mrs Fliegs to be in tears over dinner...that close that you could feel the Lions breath....and if you were stupid enough, poke a finger through the fence...

[Ibbie]

Morning folks.

Blue, sunny day here, currently 14c going up to 22c it is thought.

Mrs IB a lot more comfortable, as she has a new sling to rest her arm in. Came from the river people yesterday, along with a waterproof blue rubber arm cover to enable her to go in the shower.

[OFSO]

Less anyone doubt that ESP exists, as I wrote my earlier post Mrs OFSO - at the other end of the room - looked up and said "What about that advert with the five boys and the chocolates? "

[Wodrick]

Morning all,
An amazing 19˚with a guess of 23˚, cloudless.

A medical day, SM is off to the Horsepitil for a meet the anaesthetist session.
Looks like the mesh removal will be sooner rather than later.

I get Stage one Pfizer later today, I am assuming Pfizer as it is at the local health centre.
AZ is being distributed in a tent at the nearest shopping mall.

That's all.

[Pontius Navigator]

Boring here too. They say they will shove some CO2 up me ass for the CT scan. Not quite as bad as a camera

[Boac]

Poor horse

[EA01]

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-04-20/ ... /100080662

Ha ha, many, and I mean many years ago Byron Bay was a magical place...it's been an overcrowded toilet for 20 years and now flooded with young women 'effluencers', the 'locals' complain that 'Netflix' doesn't 'get' Byron'....sorry w@nkers....your town is truly paradise lost....and guess what, a lot of that was because of people like you!, and now you protest? FFS...

[Pontius Navigator]

Actually it was worse

[ricardian]

Oh dear, how sad!

A TV psychic to the stars who claimed he lost his abilities in a car crash faces a £100,000 legal bill after a judge rejected his “dishonest” compensation claim.

[TheGreenGoblin]

Oh dear, how sad!

A TV psychic to the stars who claimed he lost his abilities in a car crash faces a £100,000 legal bill after a judge rejected his “dishonest” compensation claim.

A bit silly of the psychic to claim he lost his abilities in the crash. If he had had any "abilities" he wouldn't have had the crash in the first place. What an idiot!

[OFSO]

Many years ago we spent three days with a travelling circus while Mrs OFSO sculpted a lion. We got to know the lion tamer. The lions were like big dogs, loved performing, as soon as their music came on, all up and frisky. Also loved posing for the sculpture. Always fascinated in what was going on. OTOH, the tigers were mean buggers. The trainer said you couldn't trust them for a minute, turn your back and they'd be on you.

[TheGreenGoblin]

A bit more about that confounded fire...

Table Mountain.JPG (72.15 KiB) Viewed 316 times

Jagger Library History Made and Lost...

[TheGreenGoblin]

On a Lion Enraged at Seeing a Lad in the Highland Dress
by W. Hamilton
Calm and serene the imperial lion lay,
Mildly indulging in the solar ray;
On vulgar mortals with indifference gazed,
All unconcerned, nor angry, nor amazed;
But when the Caledonian lad appeared,
Sudden alarmed, his manly mane he reared,
Prepared in fierce encounter to engage
The only object worthy of his rage.

Lions disdain the effete English and squelch the uncouth Welsh!

[G-CPTN]

Was he not Scots, this Caledonian lad?

[ricardian]

Oh dear, how sad!

A TV psychic to the stars who claimed he lost his abilities in a car crash faces a £100,000 legal bill after a judge rejected his “dishonest” compensation claim.

A bit silly of the psychic to claim he lost his abilities in the crash. If he had had any "abilities" he wouldn't have had the crash in the first place. What an idiot!

When we lived in Scarborough there was to be a convention of clairvoyants, psychics & Tarot card readers but it had to be cancelled at short notice because of unforseen circumstances - I wish that I'd kept the notice in the Scarborough Evening News!

[handsfree]

There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool
That's noted for fresh air and fun
And Mr. and Mrs. Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son
A fine little lad were young Albert
All dressed in his best, quite a swell
He'd a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle;
The finest that Woolworth's could sell
They didn't think much to the ocean
The waves they were piddlin' and small
There were no wrecks and nobody drownded
'Fact, nothin' to laugh at at all!
So, seeking for further amusement
They paid, and went into the zoo
Where they'd lions and tigers and camels
And cold ale and sandwiches, too
There were one great big lion called Wallace
Whose nose was all covered with scars;
He lay in a som-no-lent posture
With the side of 'is face on the bars
Now Albert 'ad 'eard about lions-
'Ow they was ferocious and wild;
To see lion lyin' so peaceful
Just didn't seem right to the child
So straightway the brave little feller
Not showin' a morsel of fear
Took 'is stick with the 'orse's 'ead 'andle
And stuck it in Wallace's ear
You could see that the lion din't like it
For givin' a kind of a roll
'E pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im
And swallered the little lad - 'ole!
Now Mother 'ad seen this occurrence
And not knowin' what to do next
She 'ollered "Yon lion's et Albert!"
An' Father said "Ee, I am vexed."
They complained to an animal keeper
Who said "My, wot a nasty mis'ap;
Are you sure it's your boy 'e's eaten?"
Pa said, "Am I sure? There's 'is cap!"
The manager 'ad to be sent for;
'E came and 'e said "Wot's to-do?"
Ma said "Yon lion's et Albert
And 'im in 'is Sunday clothes, too!"
Father said "Right's right, young feller-
I think it's a shame and a sin
To 'ave our son et by a lion
And after we paid to come in."
The manager wanted no trouble;
He took out his purse right away
Sayin' "'Ow much to settle the matter?"
Pa said "Wot do you usually pay?"
But Mother 'ad turned a bit awkward
When she saw where 'er Albert 'ad gone
She said "No, someone's got to be summonsed!"
So that was decided upon
And off they all went to p'lice station
In front of a Magistrate chap;
They told what 'ad 'appened to Albert
And proved it by showing 'is cap
The Magistrate gave 'is opinion
That no one was really to blame
And 'e said that 'e 'oped the Ramsbottoms
Would 'ave further sons to their name
At that Mother got proper blazin':
"And thank you, sir, kindly, " said she-
"Wot, spend all our lives raisin' children
To feed ruddy lions? Not me!"

[ricardian]

Living in Africa, constantly being chased by lions wasn't easy, but we knew we could muck through the feline torment, because we had the best of British bicycles!
British Bicycles.JPG
The all steel bicycle! I am not sure about steel, but mine was often stolen!
"Sir I couldn't do my homework because a lion stole my satchel and my bicycle!" Cue laughter from the class and another caning!

After leaving the RAF a friend of mine became a Probation Officer in the Nottingham area. He was a prolific writer of letters to the local newspaper's "Postbag" and often won £10 for "letter of the week". He tells this tale about Brian Clough and Raleigh bicycles:

About this same time (1980-ish), our very own Messiah in the East Midlands, Cloughie, got caught yet again for driving with excess alcohol in his bloodstream and (allegedly) with the expressed greatest reluctance, the local beaks fined him and disqualified him from driving for twelve months.
Predictably, the usual woodwork dwellers became incandescent with rage and wrote to ‘Postbag’ to rant at the conviction itself and the stupidity, severity and inappropriateness of this swingeing punishment and the knock-on effects it might have on ’Ole Big ’Ead’s’ brilliant management of N.F.F.C. Other siren voices whined that without a licence, Cloughie would be seriously seriously handicapped in getting from Trent Bridge to the training ground a mile away, or from his home to the off-licence and back again.
A week later there was a fanfare on the front page with photographs of our local hero deigning to accept as a gift, a top-of-the-range sports racer from a grateful representative of Raleigh Industries PLC and of said icon riding the machine somewhat shakily round the Market Square. "It was the least we could do for our Brian!”, the Raleigh P.R. man gushed.
I rushed to print with one of my most scathing letters to date. I pointed out the usual guff, namely that this was B.C, not J.C. we were talking about. that thousands of other motorists who lost their licences, even first timers, usually lost their livelihood as well and anyway, this particular transgressor was well able to afford to buy his own bike, or even employ someone to act as his chauffeur!. I ended my letter with a snipe at Raleigh, by saying that if their huge factory (in those days) had any bikes to spare, I as a Probation Officer, knew of dozens of kids from inner city areas who would be delighted to receive one for no less a deserving reason than that they too, could do with a bike and might benefit from the exercise that cycling brings.
Every neighbour and mate round at the Legion who knew when I had been published were quick to suggest me getting a round in on the strength of my being in line to win ten crisp oncers! It was not my usual style of letter and I did not expect it to win, ‘Letter of the Month‘ with it. And it didn’t.
What did happen however was a half dozen spiteful letters attacking me appeared in ’Postbag’ and several people I had never before spoken to came up to me, muttering words such as, “W@nker” & “Tw@t!.” But the biscuit was well and truly taken by a phone call that reached me at work from a guy who said he was an executive at Raleigh Industries. As well as upbraiding me for my lack of insight in being critical of his firm when set alongside the great power of goodness (for Nottingham City) that was the saintly Brian Clough O.B.E., he somehow managed to imply the whole of his workforce at the Triumph Road complex and his board of directors were behind him as one, in being disgusted by my newspaper attack and it wouldn’t surprise him if some of the lads came round to my house late one dark night, armed with suitable lengths of Reynolds 531 tubing and beat the holy crap out of me for my treachery!

[G-CPTN]

What happened to the bicycle?

[TheGreenGoblin]

Living in Africa, constantly being chased by lions wasn't easy, but we knew we could muck through the feline torment, because we had the best of British bicycles!
British Bicycles.JPG
The all steel bicycle! I am not sure about steel, but mine was often stolen!
"Sir I couldn't do my homework because a lion stole my satchel and my bicycle!" Cue laughter from the class and another caning!

After leaving the RAF a friend of mine became a Probation Officer in the Nottingham area. He was a prolific writer of letters to the local newspaper's "Postbag" and often won £10 for "letter of the week". He tells this tale about Brian Clough and Raleigh bicycles:

About this same time (1980-ish), our very own Messiah in the East Midlands, Cloughie, got caught yet again for driving with excess alcohol in his bloodstream and (allegedly) with the expressed greatest reluctance, the local beaks fined him and disqualified him from driving for twelve months.
Predictably, the usual woodwork dwellers became incandescent with rage and wrote to ‘Postbag’ to rant at the conviction itself and the stupidity, severity and inappropriateness of this swingeing punishment and the knock-on effects it might have on ’Ole Big ’Ead’s’ brilliant management of N.F.F.C. Other siren voices whined that without a licence, Cloughie would be seriously seriously handicapped in getting from Trent Bridge to the training ground a mile away, or from his home to the off-licence and back again.
A week later there was a fanfare on the front page with photographs of our local hero deigning to accept as a gift, a top-of-the-range sports racer from a grateful representative of Raleigh Industries PLC and of said icon riding the machine somewhat shakily round the Market Square. "It was the least we could do for our Brian!”, the Raleigh P.R. man gushed.
I rushed to print with one of my most scathing letters to date. I pointed out the usual guff, namely that this was B.C, not J.C. we were talking about. that thousands of other motorists who lost their licences, even first timers, usually lost their livelihood as well and anyway, this particular transgressor was well able to afford to buy his own bike, or even employ someone to act as his chauffeur!. I ended my letter with a snipe at Raleigh, by saying that if their huge factory (in those days) had any bikes to spare, I as a Probation Officer, knew of dozens of kids from inner city areas who would be delighted to receive one for no less a deserving reason than that they too, could do with a bike and might benefit from the exercise that cycling brings.
Every neighbour and mate round at the Legion who knew when I had been published were quick to suggest me getting a round in on the strength of my being in line to win ten crisp oncers! It was not my usual style of letter and I did not expect it to win, ‘Letter of the Month‘ with it. And it didn’t.
What did happen however was a half dozen spiteful letters attacking me appeared in ’Postbag’ and several people I had never before spoken to came up to me, muttering words such as, “W@nker” & “Tw@t!.” But the biscuit was well and truly taken by a phone call that reached me at work from a guy who said he was an executive at Raleigh Industries. As well as upbraiding me for my lack of insight in being critical of his firm when set alongside the great power of goodness (for Nottingham City) that was the saintly Brian Clough O.B.E., he somehow managed to imply the whole of his workforce at the Triumph Road complex and his board of directors were behind him as one, in being disgusted by my newspaper attack and it wouldn’t surprise him if some of the lads came round to my house late one dark night, armed with suitable lengths of Reynolds 531 tubing and beat the holy crap out of me for my treachery!

Interesting story and how absurd and unpleasant the management team of Raleigh were. I like your friend's ethical and reasonable stance (and writing style).

All I can say is that all my bicycles as a boy were BSA made, and when I took up long distance cycling over Southern and South West Africa as a young man, I was a Peugeot cyclist...