The aide memoire

Blame Rossa’s mother for sending this:

• An Oxford comma walks into a bar, where it spends the evening watching the television, getting drunk, and smoking cigars.
• A dangling participle walks into a bar. Enjoying a cocktail and chatting with the bartender, the evening passes pleasantly.
• A bar was walked into by the passive voice.
• An oxymoron walked into a bar, and the silence was deafening.
• Two quotation marks walk into a “bar.”
• A malapropism walks into a bar, looking for all intensive purposes like a wolf in cheap clothing, muttering epitaphs and casting dispersions on his magnificent other, who takes him for granite.
• Hyperbole totally rips into this insane bar and absolutely destroys everything.
• A question mark walks into a bar?
• A non sequitur walks into a bar. In a strong wind, even turkeys can fly.
• Papyrus and Comic Sans walk into a bar. The bartender says, “Get out — we don’t serve your type.”
• A mixed metaphor walks into a bar, seeing the handwriting on the wall but hoping to nip it in the bud.
• A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves.
• Three intransitive verbs walk into a bar. They sit. They converse. They depart.
• A synonym strolls into a tavern.
• At the end of the day, a cliché walks into a bar — fresh as a daisy, cute as a button, and sharp as a tack.
• A run-on sentence walks into a bar it starts flirting. With a cute little sentence fragment.
• Falling slowly, softly falling, the chiasmus collapses to the bar floor.
• A figure of speech literally walks into a bar and ends up getting figuratively hammered.
• An allusion walks into a bar, despite the fact that alcohol is its Achilles heel.
• The subjunctive would have walked into a bar, had it only known.
• A misplaced modifier walks into a bar owned by a man with a glass eye named Ralph.
• The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was tense.
• A dyslexic walks into a bra.
• A verb walks into a bar, sees a beautiful noun, and suggests they conjugate. The noun declines.
• A simile walks into a bar, as parched as a desert.
• A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to forget.
• A hyphenated word and a non-hyphenated word walk into a bar and the bartender nearly chokes on the irony.


This Nightwatch was to handle the info overflow from the day and to post anything new in the evening but after Dove earlier, methinks it’s better to go info by day, reflection by night.

And what I’m reflecting on is the most curious way I’m being treated by a utilities company at this moment. In my fourth call today, it was clear I was too hot to handle – it was real egg shells stuff, kid gloves and yet I was low-voiced, calm, friendly, on first name terms. The issue is not the frontline people at all, the issue is whoever behind the scenes was putting the kaibosh on me. Someone got to my case handler and wrecked the arrangement.  No reason given over the phone.

I know they are ripping me off blind and they know it, just hoping it doesn’t come out in the way Biden hopes his crimes don’t come out.

With me, it was just a matter of a few hundred pounds but in this chap’s case, it was vastly worse:

Storyville Blues

Was going to run some R. Strauss but thought no, I’ll run the companion piece to the other Tuba Skinny video, this one having notes below:

# Maceo Pinkard composed this song as ‘Those Drafting Blues’ in 1917. It was later played in the 1940s as both ‘Those Drafting Blues’ and ‘Storyville Blues’ by Bunk Johnson, who probably had an uncertain recollection of the original title. Adding to the confusion, it was also recorded in 1946 by the Yerba Buena Jazz Band as ‘Bienville Blues’.

Tactical battle

This is a ‘hiding to nothing’ post but even if there is one person interested, it’s worth it.

Those of us who love sports battles when they’re not staged would also be fascinated with the things our blogs cover in politics, e.g. the current situation of cabal versus us.

This one is of no intrinsic interest to most – an Australian football game – except that it is a contrast of styles this coming weekend and this clip below sets that contrast out:

No, you’re not going mad

… they really are out to get you!

Caveats first. There are certain sources I have pressure put on me not to run, not without reason. Gatestone is an obvious one but I’ve found that on middle-eastern matters, as they’re one of the actual participants in it, they have a legit case to speak for that side of the argument.

This gal below is another that certain people close to me don’t like and it’s been a long time since I ran her. She’s certainly a strange girl with those doves caterwauling in the background but on this topic, she’s 100% on the ball for the first 90% of it. If you can put up with the bleached vision and overdoved sound, the message is one we should heed, we really should, up to the last minute but I’m going to take her to task on that last minute: