ROBUST discussion
Rants: OT & OTT
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No bedbugs here — a wandering thread of wonder at the world

Or maybe just any old word. Porno ads are certainly prevalent, with no discernible context...
Ah! Mmm, the reason the vise grip for grabbing a rear sprog -- this is getting me deeper into trouble -- on a bicycle is called a whip, is because the traditional tool it replaces consists of a stave of metal or wood with a piece of chain attached to it that actually does look like whip...


Is the "ugly, young, fat, troll dressed in nothing but a loin cloth chasing a sheep" perchance named Bruce?
Gee, Katie, you live in Australia and you missed all the jokes about Australians and sheep? The only mistake you didn't make was to paint "Daisy" on the sheep!
Sympathy, of course. No, really.
Gee, Katie, you live in Australia and you missed all the jokes about Australians and sheep? The only mistake you didn't make was to paint "Daisy" on the sheep!
Sympathy, of course. No, really.

Still, I find it boring how much smut is actually out there.
Katie - perhaps you should put your troll in more clothing, though I doubt it will help. Kentucky has as many sheep jokes as Australia. Or we have the same jokes and the names have been changed.

http://www.kuforum.co.uk/kindleusersf...

http://www.kuforum.co.uk/kindleusersf..."
GOOD FOR YOU!!!!

Goodoner, and won't hurt you either, Katie.
ps. Great illustrations!
Sharon wrote: "I'd say the author knew what she was doing when she posted the thread.
Goodoner, and won't hurt you either, Katie.
ps. Great illustrations!"
If you're looking for a little controversy, just in case anyone is stupid enough not to get it, you could add a name tag label to the troll: "Bruce". And paint "Daisy" across the sheep's back quarters. That should do it.
PS For years I thought "Mekelpie" was a dog's name; Australian and New Zealand farmers would never fail to introduce the dog at their heels, "...and this is mekelpie." It turned out they just had bad diction. One wasn't being introduced to the dog by name but by genera: "...and this is my kelpie [breed of dog]."
Goodoner, and won't hurt you either, Katie.
ps. Great illustrations!"
If you're looking for a little controversy, just in case anyone is stupid enough not to get it, you could add a name tag label to the troll: "Bruce". And paint "Daisy" across the sheep's back quarters. That should do it.
PS For years I thought "Mekelpie" was a dog's name; Australian and New Zealand farmers would never fail to introduce the dog at their heels, "...and this is mekelpie." It turned out they just had bad diction. One wasn't being introduced to the dog by name but by genera: "...and this is my kelpie [breed of dog]."

My Ozz family has a Kelpie. I looked after him last year for a week when they had a houseboat vacay. I'm not particularly a dog person, but he was okay - despite having eyes that Kujo would envy...
Sharon wrote: "despite having eyes that Kujo would envy...
That's the point of a kelpie, to intimidate sheep, remind them it can't wait to revert to its wolf antecedents.
That's the point of a kelpie, to intimidate sheep, remind them it can't wait to revert to its wolf antecedents.


He's really quite benign, doesn't bark much, and likes to snuggle. He's okay. He got out one night while I was watching him and the neighbours, who all love him, helped me find him. He didn't try to 'guard' me at night, for which I was grateful. I find that creepy for some reason.
Oddly, a few months before I visited, I was walking in the woods and a bloke came by with a dog I'd never seen before. I was struck enough by his beauty to ask his breed. You guessed it... it was a black and tan Kelpie.

That's the point of a kelpie, to intimidate sheep, remind them it can't wait to revert to its wolf antecedents."
A bit of trivia I heard just the other day. Every single dog in the world has the wolf as its antecedent...

I'd love to have a dog that would round up my poultry. I've got one, my little mutt, who helps me catch baby birds. She's the only one who won't kill them. But she's terrified of the geese.

Another couple of weeks there will be duck eggs everywhere. Those will sell well, too.


Geese are just naturally aggressive.
We used to live on the canal at Burwell, halfway between Cambridge and the horse-racing town of Newmarket. Every afternoon I would come home from college and take a walk along the canal, my thinking time -- and have it ruined by geese mobbing me, pecking at me. One day I'd had enough, grabbed one and wrung its neck on the spot as an example to the rest not to try intimidating one of the Jutes (we'd cut a wide swathe the last time we passed through there, about 1600 years before). Since I'm not a sports-shooter (I believe in eating what you kill), I took it home, plucked it and hung it, and then we ate it. Halfway through dinner the farmer arrived. I bade him sit and join us at dinner. "That's your goose," I said. I brought a functioning machete that in Kenya had featured in the murder of an entire family from the wall to the table (I was planning to write a book about the case -- or rather, one of my publishers thought I should write a book about it, and bought the machete at auction to ginger me up -- but never got around to it). "Next time your geese nip me, I'll lop off half a dozen heads. Gate your geese five o'clock in the afternoon when I walk, or it will become expensive for you. Eat up, man, it's good goose, locally raised!" The farmer's wife told the local doctor, who told me, "I can't believe that man's cheek!"
After that we bought our geese from them, until we moved to France the next year.
We used to live on the canal at Burwell, halfway between Cambridge and the horse-racing town of Newmarket. Every afternoon I would come home from college and take a walk along the canal, my thinking time -- and have it ruined by geese mobbing me, pecking at me. One day I'd had enough, grabbed one and wrung its neck on the spot as an example to the rest not to try intimidating one of the Jutes (we'd cut a wide swathe the last time we passed through there, about 1600 years before). Since I'm not a sports-shooter (I believe in eating what you kill), I took it home, plucked it and hung it, and then we ate it. Halfway through dinner the farmer arrived. I bade him sit and join us at dinner. "That's your goose," I said. I brought a functioning machete that in Kenya had featured in the murder of an entire family from the wall to the table (I was planning to write a book about the case -- or rather, one of my publishers thought I should write a book about it, and bought the machete at auction to ginger me up -- but never got around to it). "Next time your geese nip me, I'll lop off half a dozen heads. Gate your geese five o'clock in the afternoon when I walk, or it will become expensive for you. Eat up, man, it's good goose, locally raised!" The farmer's wife told the local doctor, who told me, "I can't believe that man's cheek!"
After that we bought our geese from them, until we moved to France the next year.

Kench, Andre.
I walk in the Park all the time and the geese gather around Lost Lagoon (which is not lost at all, but seems was to famous Canadian Aboriginal author Pauline Johnson). They never peck at me. The swans, however, I stay well clear of...

The horses have become resigned to getting a pat on the rump with it when they try to steal hay. (Ned walked off with an entire bale one day.) I poke the young mare with it when she starts to act silly. Like going into her mother's stall, or walking in to the feed room.
Pretty dog. I thought a kelpie was a boarder collie. She looks like a short-hair. Very intelligent eyes.
We had a couple of swans, very pretty, but an otter killed one, which is sad since they mate for life and the remaining one now seems purposeless and lost.


Swans are not native to our 'Lagoon' but everyone loves to look at them. The raccoons love to eat their eggs, so at this time of year one can find many folk out there chasing raccoons away from the water's edge. They always seem to get a few, of course, and sometimes a baby swan too. Either way, the parents mourn. It's palpable. No wonder they peck (and spit) at anything in their vicinity!

I am giggling as I realize where this topic of conversation has taken us... just as it might in any group in real life.
I'm on another forum where the moderator takes the job seriously. It is hell, even with disciplined contributors, to keep threads on topic. With you lot, and me, Premier Wandering Mind of the World, it would be impossible, a suicide job. And it is much more fun following the hopskotchers around than trying to get a little excitement out of a railroad mind, arrow-straight from horizon to horizon. Predictability is the bedbug of boredom.

I didn't realise Bald Eagles were in Canada as well. I don't know why I didn't realise. They're not likely to respect borders, I don't suppose!

The park has an 'eagle weekend' where you go looking for eagles on boats and on tours.
Hubby and I went one year. We saw twenty or thirty in one area, just hanging out in the trees. It was strange to see so many of an endangered species in one place.

But of course, Americans, who claim them as their symbol, set out to prove this was not so. (I'm sure they'd like to disprove we have the second largest land mass too, next to Russia, but that's a scientific measurment, grin). It is now thought that the state of Alaska alone has almost half the world's bald eagle population. Who knows for sure?
All I know is they have never been endangered in my part of the world and we make annual pilgrmages to two spots within 30 km of Vancouver, east and west, which have hundreds gather at this time of year, similar to what Kat described. And they love to eat our migrating salmon, so are seen in great quantities in late fall in all the rivers where salmon breed.
I was surprised to learn a few years ago, that there were bald eagles in Australia, too. Amazing the things we are learning about our world, huh?
Here in the heart of Vancouver, one of the densest populations in the world, we have a few pair who nest in 'my' Park, and at least one pair who nest on the top of a building. We are always looking up!
Katie wrote: "Who wants to talk about pornography anyway? Kelpies, geese and bald eagles are far more interesting."
Thread renamed accordingly: "No bedbugs here — a wandering thread of wonder at the world"
Thread renamed accordingly: "No bedbugs here — a wandering thread of wonder at the world"

Isn't it great? I'm on the Space Coast down in Florida, which has the second highest number of bald eagles in the US, after Alaska. We love watching them. There are about 20 nests within 10 miles of our house, which lies between the St. Johns River and the Indian River. It's interesting that the two largest eagle populations in North America are in the northwestern-most corner and the southeastern-most corner.


Clever man!

I am fortunate to live in the area of Canada with the largest eagle pop, though I would not be surprised to learn there was a greater pop in the remote north. There is a blurred line between Alaska and our coast, I would also not be surprised to learn we both sometimes count the same eagles, grin.
Of course the eagles don't care who claims them; they are perfect examples of how superior nature is to humans - everything of nature is simply of the one Earth.

"
That's amazing. I'd love to live in something like that.

But I don't think it has a conventional sewer system.

(Sorry. Someone here has to be practical.)"
It wouldn't be if I had anything to do with it. There's nothing quite so aesthetically pleasing in a home as perfectly functioning indoor plumbing.

I'd love to have one of the little cobb houses as a studio.

and in the "Sponsored results" find this instead:
Fabulous Leather Floggers
Buffalo, Bullhide, Deer, Elk & Cow, Knotty Cats, Singletails &
The tool I'm looking for is a "Pedros Vise Whip" and presumably either some programmer cannot spell "Vice" or thinks his market cannot.
Jesus. Cycling used to be such an innocent sport.