Fuzzy Duck

Fuzzy Duck

Try saying that fast and repeating it.

This has nothing to do with the post, but I thought it was interesting.

Fuzzy Duck was one of the drinking games that I played as a youth, along with The Pheasant Plucker’s Son and Colonel Huff (to which I have alluded before).

It doesn’t feel like a Saturday, much the same idea as the vague feeling I had about Friday (previous post). I had a dreadful thought in my half awake/half asleep mode during nap time; “is this what it’s like to be retired?” You see we had a ten day break for carnaval, then a week back at work, and this past week all my students have deserted me for one reason or another, so I am having a Tuesday – Monday weekend. Without work I am lost, disorientated, confused, desperate for some meaning in life.

I never want to retire!

followed-blog-200-2xGenesMy They say it’s in the Genes blog got a WP award; 200 avid followers.

It surprised me because I get few likes nor many comments, but I must be doing something right over there.

A comment yesterday has left me perplexed. Yvonne said that my blog was ‘hypnotic’. I’ve never thought of it that way before, eclectic, yes. Eclectic means you write about any rubbish that happens to be coursing through you mind at the moment you stare at a blank screen. Some people call this inspiration. But Yvonne added a smiley face, so I assume the comment was a positive one, thanks Yvonne.

A beautiful cribbage

A beautiful cribbage

Something reminded me of cribbage the other day. I would hazard a guess that there’s many of you think that cribbage is green and grows in the garden and the old fool has made another spelling mistake.

But not; I have not spelled the word wrongly, I am referring to the old card game cribbage.

You don’t hear of people playing ‘crib’ any more.

A crib board for scoring

A crib board for scoring

I used to play it a lot. My parents had friends over once a week for a crib evening.

How many of my younger visitors have seen one of these around the home, or at Granny’s place and wondered “WTF is that?”

Crib was a fascinating game, required a fast alert mind and you had to good at maths. Normally, you counted your scores like 15-2, 15-4 15-6 (because each combination that added to 15 gave you two points) then you scored runs, flushes and straights in an equally archaic manner; and that was after you had played the hand in which you scored similarly. My father didn’t add the scores, he could look at any given hand and just say the total. Such was my father.

Beautiful bird, tastes good, but wrong Turkey

Beautiful bird, tastes good, but wrong Turkey

Turkey, no not that one!

The country, the one being run by a turkey.

Image courtesy BBC

Image courtesy BBC

Closed Twitter two days ago for the whole country.

Since, by using proxies and SMS, Twitter usage in Turkey has risen by 138%. Doesn’t that send a snub to the prime turkey minister?

Just another example of the old adage, ‘if it’s illegal, immoral or fattening’ people want to do it.

Politicians curtail communication when they are on the verge of shitting their pants, take note China, Vietnam, Venezuela, Turkey and the rest of you. There are too many of you to list fully. These politicians have all got ‘skid marks’ in their underpants.

So I will leave you with my ‘dream chicken’ meme before I head off into the wild blue yonder to discover what wonders the botequim holds…

dreamchicken

Later.

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