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Also usw for “und so weiter” - etcetera.

Scottish Blend.

Creamy, crunchy, fruity? What you want is Eton Mess. https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/eton-mess

What’s funny is that (according to the old testament) when Moses came down off the mountain with the tablets and found everyone worshipping the golden calf, he had a big hissy fit and smashed them. So then after doing quite a bit of murdering he had to go back up the mountain to get a second set. Exodus 32-34

I asked a religious relative how it was ok for Moses to murder people when he had only just be told by God himself “thou shalt not kill”, and she said it was because the don’t kill thing came further down the list than having only the one god.

Struwwelpeter. We had an English copy handed down by my grandfather. It’s insane.

Example: “Die gar traurige Geschichte mit dem Feuerzeug (“The Very Sad Tale with the Matches”): A girl plays with matches, accidentally ignites herself and burns to death. Only her cats mourn her.”

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Struwwelpeter

– pay for a large residence and security on the outskirts, then stay inside. Use disguises/body doubles when going out.

So … you can everything you want, except sponteneity? Or privacy, with all those staff hanging around. And there’d still be some douche tracking your private jet.

Ha ha, read this wonderful piece through thinking, sounds great but what would I ever make? And then omg, yarn winder. I’m a knitter, and my yarn winder is a plastic monstrosity. I mean I’m never going to do it myself, but there definitely is a market for beautifully machined yarn winders.

It was partly because my parents forced me into a scholarship that was tied to teaching afterwards - I was entirely unsuited to being a teacher, but neither of them even attended high school, and to them being a teacher was the pinnacle of achievement. I was pretty good academically but university overwhelmed me, so between that and no incentive to succeed, I failed miserably, only passing a few courses. I ended up getting a professional qualification (not a degree) in my 30s and had a decent career.

Living in a squat for a few years showed me I would have made a fantastic electrian or plumber, but you had to have a penis for that for some reason.

I remember my poor niece saying, “I can’t believe they let us leave the hospital with her! She’s so tiny and fragile! We don’t know what we’re doing!”

Cheese and marmalade, the sharper both are the better. Mmm.

Where I’m from it’s called “squeezing the lemon”. Mash that pedal! Ha ha. The best bit is when you catch up with them stopped at the next set of lights.

This is the correct answer. It’s how ships avoid running into each other. When whoever is steering the vessel is facing the bow (front, usually the pointy bit), port is their left, starboard their right. Ship’s running lights are red on the port side, green on the left. So if you’re out on the water at night, you can immediately see whether a ship is coming towards you or moving away. The rule for passing an oncoming vessel is “port to port”, thus avoiding confusion and collision.

Sitting up in bed I would consider the headboard the stern, because I have my back to it, and the foot the bow. So the area to starboard is right, and portside is left. Ahoy maties!!!

I found out what was going on from Yahoo! Lol. https://uk.finance.yahoo.com/news/bing-api-down-taking-microsoft-090532873.html

And that’s a real dagger tucked into his sash. (I learned a bit about fighting Sikhs from reading Neal Stephenson’s Termination Shock, and watching a load of YouTube videos.)

We call them zoodies in our sports club, to differentiate them from hoodies, which have no zip.

For me olives were an acquired taste.

The first time I ate in a restaurant I was about 12 I think. It was a fancy Italian place. When I saw the dishes of (green, pimento-stuffed) olives on the table I was excited to try one. I’d only ever seen pictures of them in American magazines - this was mid-60s New Zealand, Coca Cola was exotic. I put one in my mouth, and almost gagged, the flavour was so completely awful. I spat it into a napkin.

Fast forward to today, and I would gladly hoover up the whole dishful and ask for more. My favourite olive is a big fat juicy Kalamata. I also love tapenade made with black olives. The only olives I dislike are the flavourless cardboardy lumps sometimes passed off as olives.

I know a young man who headed back to India for an arranged marriage. I expressed my extreme surprise that he would agree to marry someone he’d never met, and he said he trusted his parents to choose someone compatible. “After all, they know me better than anyone else.” I remain baffled, honestly. He seems an otherwise savvy, modern person. But there you go, happy to commit to a stranger.

I dread to think what kind of bloke my parents would have picked for me…

1626, three-storied house.

I do hug my friends (and family when they visit from far, far away), I’m very huggy. Cuddling is another level of intimacy though. I do miss it, a bit.

My farts are so loud you probably heard me earlier and thought it was a car with engine trouble.