Real sports made to look like tiny dioramas: the tilt-shift work of photographer Vincent Foret (via Shape and Colour)
A guilty thing surprised… (Warning, NSFW kitty pr0n)
Yay, another timesink: I’m indebted to Unfogged for introducing me to Prolific Squalor, a new blog featuring excerpts of IM conversations, like this one:
I know the type.
March 21, 2008A: Oh, so you’re talking german now…
A: What’s next, the all-esperanto gmail status?
B: I don’t speak German so much as randomly exclaim it.
A: I know the type.
Curiously compelling. More please. (But Ogged, a thousand bucks for lunch? I call that wantonly extravagant – a thousand dollars, wow,that must be all of 50 euros.
Lucent and Cisco, European wireless giants Nokia and Ericsson, and Canada’s Nortel Networks – what do they have in common other than being massive telecoms corps? They’re all making big money from China’s ‘Golden Shield’ Tibet surveillance programme.
Anger is an energy… The Grauniad didn’t know what a box of horrors they opened when they asked commenters ‘What makes you angry?’:
Keylimepie
Comment No. 1223488 March 25 15:06
DEU@djhworld- o thank god, i thought I was the only person to feel homicidal rage whenever I enter a supermarket…
But what really makes my blood boil is my partner sneezing. he makes himself sneeze by sticking a rolled-up cigarette paper up his nose and moving it about until he sneezes. and then his eyes start tearing up and his nose starts running and he has this sort of glowing almost post-orgasmic-like look on his face and I have to leave the room so as not to smack his puss. I realise this pet hate of mine is pathetic. I just can’t help it. Anybody else’s partners/spouses drive them nuts with little things like that? And how do you deal with it? Am looking for anger-management techniques…
I dunno about pathetic. That would make me reach for a shotgun in disgusted rage.
What else there to do when it snows, except to play in it in your underwear?
My husband doubted the accuracy of the weather forecast. He said “If we get 10 inches or more of snow, I will run up the street in my underwear”. That was a bet I had to take.
Some day all wars will be fought like this! (via By Neddie Jingo!)
A cheese -eating surrender monkey writes: thoughts on the departure of the NY Times’ France correspondent:
So what does she do for her au revoir column? How about a list of clichés and stereotypes!
And she didn’t disappoint! […]
Never [….]
– Eat sorbet with a fork (No, I ain’t making that up.)
And the most amazing of all:
– Never say “Bon appétit” at the start of a meal.
Did this woman really just spend 5 years in France?
Cue a similar rollout of banality and cliche from the British papers during Sarko’s UK state visit. Any Reports of his vulgarity, on the other hand, are completely justified.
No, you silly policeman, he said “20 bucks to help me getup” not “20 bucks to help me get off”:
Prosecutors are moving ahead with a case against one of two 93-year-old men picked up during undercover prostitution stings.
In the case of Frank Milio, prosecutors have issued subpoenas and plan to take him to trial in April.
Milio, according to police records, tried to pay $20 in November to an undercover officer on 14th Street West.
Pah. Prodnoses everywhere. (Via Ballooon Juice)
