I am the grit in the gears, the missing bolt, I am the poker of sticks into spokes. I like to know how things work, but sometimes when I take them apart and rebuild them, I have a few pieces left over. I am a man, so I tend to leave reading the instructions until after it goes wrong. And like all men I have a comprehensive mental map of the world and never need to ask directions. I never get lost, only sometimes I'm late, or end up in the wrong place entirely. It's what we do.
Saturday, 13 October 2012
That Fokker's a Babe-Magnet!
|This one, though?|
Which reminds me, of the old World War II pilot, invited into a girls' school, to talk about his experiences.
He's waving his arms around, his hands depicting dogfight duels, he says, " All of a sudden, Blam! holes in my wing, I look over my shoulder and there's this fucker on my tail!"
"Girls", the head-teacher breaks in, "Stop your sniggering, a Focke is a type of german fighter plane..."
The old man pauses. "That's very true, Miss. Only this fucker was a Messerschmitt!"
A 'B' in Art
I know you've probably seen this already, all over the internet. But take a moment to think about the beauty here, accidentally created by bees. Once you've thought about that, ponder on their cell-ordering. I wonder, does one bee work on one cell? how do they choose which cell to fill. Why the random spacings? Any Apiarists out there to enlighten me?
Oh. Yes, the obligatory bit. Beekeepers in France found their bees making rainbow honey, and eventually tracked the source to a recycling plant a few miles away which had drums of brightly coloured M&Ms outside. The bees, finding this an easier source of nectar than sucking it out of individual flowers, told the rest of the hive, who made a bee-line for the brightly coloured sweetness.
The processing plant has now made the M&Ms off-limits to the bees.
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