Interested in an appetizer? Try the hushed puppies. They’re live baby dogs whose vocal cords have been surgically
Hey.
Chris here. The guy who was in charge of the appetizer recommendations has been sacked. I’ll be hiring a replacement posthaste.
In the meantime, what’s the deal with December, huh? The name means “tenth month,” but it’s really the twelfth month? Somebody miscounted.
Whoever came up with this is probably the same person who thought up mittens. Four fingers and a thumb? Get outta here! A thumb and a short flipper—that’s what we need to keep warm!
It seems to me that most mittens are worn by women and children. So why is it that the UNIVERSAL lifeboat policy is “women and children first”? I mean, come on. They’re wearing the hand flippers! They have a distinct swimming advantage!
If I’m on a sinking ship, I’m not just giving my spot on a lifeboat to any penguin or seal that comes along. I wear gloves, dammit! I’m not meant for the sea!
(Bubada-bup ba-dup)
I have, for some time now, responded to all “Happy New Year!” rubbish in early January with “no, it’s still winter, everything is dead, the new has not yet arrived.” If the year actually /began/ at a sensible point, then December would be December instead of covert Dodecember (which in turn just sounds like somebody who keeps forgetting that the month has changed is audibly correcting themselves any time they still write 11 on documents.)
I think this is one of the more depressing mountain times in recent memory, although my recent memory is pretty short. Is that beer brewed in the distilled malignity of a society in decay?
Always love a reminder that New Lancaster’s laws of physics contain lots and lots of house rules.
That beartender has been skipping body day. What a scrawnjob! Bulk up, bear. Winter is coming.
I know what it’s like when there’s a hole in your thoughts and you fall into it.. It puts me in despair.
CLF: If memory serves, the Romans didn’t count January and February as months or something. The year was March through December, and then there was yada-yada season. But it’s been, like, forever since I’ve been a Roman, so I’m probably wrong.
Also, “D’oh! December” took me a minute to figure out, but it’s aces.
Whee: I guess it’d be brewed in the fictional Villa Borghese of Paris, sticking with the Tropic of Cancer idea. It’s a very sexually open brewery?
Circle: It’s like Calvin-physics, really.
Cold: That bear can be a skinny king if he wants to, man! Hibernation is so old-fashioned, anyway.
I’m always falling into holes in my thoughts due to underfunded infrastructure maintenance.