Sunday Contributions.
It’s the commentators that make this blog – erudite, witty, emotive, angry, endlessly fascinating, they come in all shapes and sizes, and are the whole reason this blog exists – here are my favourites from this week.
JuliaM on Andy Gray – Richard Keys.
“The remarks were directed at her not because she was a bad linesman, but because she was a woman, and that’s just stupid. “
You should hear the comments in my office when one of the men (unwisely) states that he plans to do some cooking or washing.
‘Oh, do you know where the oven is?’
‘Remember not to put the socks in with the whites..’
Is that actionable?
Snowwolf on Andy Gray – Richard Keys.
If there is an official stood behind the last pundit when the remark is made, then it isn’t offensive, even if the other pundit is behind the official when they respond to said remark.
Of course they changed the rules about fifteen years ago, it used to be offensive if the last pundit was stood alongside the official, but now if one is level with the official, then it isn’t offensive.
It is all very confusing, especially when one factors in the consideration of passive offensiveness. When the pundit is behind the official when the remark is made, is he interfering with the broadcast or the career of the official? If not, even though he is behind the official at the time the remark is made, it is ruled inoffensive and the banter continues.
But of course, if the pundit isn’t interfering with the broadcast, then what is he doing on the bloody telly?
Livewire on The Porn Again Expert.
Can you see the little piggies with their bloated claims?
When wrong is right in piggy world, the porkers can’t be blamed.
The broadcasts claim it’s for the best, for piggies make the laws.
A fairer world expressed in “oinks” and dubbed with canned applause.
Pay your tax they need the swill, their curly tails will wag.
And when you’re left with one last crust they’ll add that to their blag.
Robbiethered on Step Forward Please.
In my case, the eleventh commandment, dictated by the wife and seconded by the cat-
“Thou Shalt Not Blog.”
“Mainly Because We Demand Thy Fulle Attentions in Order of The Pact Thou Haste, but Secondly Because We Demand To Control Thee In such Ways In Private! We Reserveth the Rights to Licketh Thy Heade, Snuggle Up To Thee In The Darke Hours of The Nighte, And In Generalle, Commande Thye Love and Affectione!”
Radders on Death
Since our bodies are 80% water, cremation rather neatly converts most of us to vapour, which is then breathed and absorbed by those living along the smoke-plume path. Other vapour falls to the ground and makes its way to the watercourse, other may fall on your salad crops and be eaten for tea, so you’re shared around quite widely, really. Together with water vapour, the finest ash also goes up the chimney to fall out similarly; those living down-wind of crematoria sometimes find their cars coated with a fine, thin film of dead people. I’m all in favour of this – it all seems quite wholesome and organic to me. And since I shall be breathed / eaten / absorbed by those vegetarians and vegans who irritate me so much in life, I am definitely going for cremation, in the most inefficient facility available.
- January 31,
2011 at 05:51
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An interesting new feature!
- January
30, 2011 at 21:50
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*blushes with pride and gratitude*
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January 30, 2011 at 20:36
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I’m a standard shape and size … but bald as a coot ! Does that count as
interesting enough ?
- January 30, 2011 at 20:24
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Thanks for the kudos, Anna. I’m been enjoying the blog for a while but only
started commenting recently. Should be a few more seditious poems and puns in
the future…
- January 30, 2011 at 20:50
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Grr typos. “I’ve” – where the bees are kept.
- January 30, 2011 at 20:50
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January 30, 2011 at 19:23
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‘Remember not to put the socks in with the whites..’
Is that actionable?
Certainly , especially if they’re coloured !
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January 30, 2011 at 20:19
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I’m all for action on behalf of those unhappy socks – irrespective of hue
– who find themselves, through no fault of their own, facing the world alone
and inexplicably separated from their twin during the terrifying, prolonged
and viciously-agitated ordeal of a 40-degree fast-spin cycle. It’s akin to
water-boarding for feet’s sake and to lose one’s sole-mate to boot is toe
cruel for words. Some wounds never heel.
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January 30, 2011 at 23:58
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Darn me – that’s a hole lot of puns to cotton on to. No woolly thinking
in that post. I notice you’ve been a little elastic with the language,
which might needle some, but you did manage to keep the thread going.
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