"E-reader devices", naming - Page 20

GeoffC · 11-10-2008, 01:58 PM

It's a well know fact that the air high in the Andes mountains is thin, deficient in oxygen and cold. It is also lacking, somewhat in molecules.

Hence the neighbouring llama misheard his friend, it was not "harv!", ....

but "merv!"?

GeoffC · 11-10-2008, 02:00 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Patricia

The British used to punish convicts by sending them to Australia which, from Marc's account, seems rather pleasant.
Perhaps Hell is even nicer than Australia.

Every so often they get their own back - hence the "Ashes"....

Patricia · 11-10-2008, 03:27 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by GeoffC

It's a well know fact that the air high in the Andes mountains is thin, deficient in oxygen and cold. It is also lacking, somewhat in molecules.

Hence the neighbouring llama misheard his friend, it was not "harv!", ....

but "merv!"?

You may well have a point, Geoff. This would explain why there are now so many llamas in Wales. I always thought that it was just the ridiculously steep hills, plus the cold and rain. Are they now competing with the sheep in Scotland too?

vivaldirules · 11-10-2008, 03:46 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Patricia

You may well have a point, Geoff. This would explain why there are now so many llamas in Wales. I always thought that it was just the ridiculously steep hills, plus the cold and rain. Are they now competing with the sheep in Scotland too?

I have recently adopted a new religion (my third this month? or is it four? never mind, the others were mere idolatry). It is based on the High Llamas of Chile and the realization that the ancients there worshiped Vera, of course, as clearly spelt out in the llama-shaped glyphs they created in the desert there (zoom to the center of the image): http://googlesightseeing.com/maps?p=...6,0.008224&t=k

Hale (hail?) Vera!

pshrynk · 11-10-2008, 03:53 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by vivaldirules

I have recently adopted a new religion (my third this month? or is it four? never mind, the others were mere idolatry). It is based on the High Llamas of Chile and the realization that the ancients there worshiped Vera, of course, as clearly spelt out in the llama-shaped glyphs they created in the desert there (zoom to the center of the image): http://googlesightseeing.com/maps?p=...6,0.008224&t=k

Hale (hail?) Vera!

Ummm... those look like reindeer to me.

vivaldirules · 11-10-2008, 03:54 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by pshrynk

Ummm... those look like reindeer to me.

No, no, no. Turn your monitor upside down. See?

pshrynk · 11-10-2008, 03:59 PM

Well, now they look like reindeer doing yoga!

zelda_pinwheel · 11-10-2008, 03:59 PM

i see them ! i SEE them !!! all hail vera !! llamas be ppraised !!!

pshrynk · 11-10-2008, 04:03 PM

Sort of like an aerial Rorschach. I should be charging for this!

vivaldirules · 11-10-2008, 04:04 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by pshrynk

Sort of like an aerial Rorschach. I should be charging for this!

Okay, how much do I have to pay the llady at the door?

zelda_pinwheel · 11-10-2008, 04:07 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by vivaldirules

Okay, how much do I have to pay the llady at the door?

(or should i say "pandallol" ?)

LazyScot · 11-10-2008, 04:41 PM

Here, or more accurately in the next post, is a one-shot attempt at a Vera tale. But a couple warnings first.

Some of this is shamelessly plagarised from Nadine Abensur's excellent recipe for pumpkin and parsley risotto in The Cranks Bible. (I kid you not)
I think this might be, um, pushing the boundaries a bit much?

You have been warned.

LazyScot · 11-10-2008, 04:44 PM

I'd been away for far too long. Departmental politics, multihop routings through dubious (not to mention dubya) countries, never-ending meetings, urgent project overruns ... So little time, so many people to offend ...

Still, after several months, here I am, back at last. And the mobile informs me I have a message.

Vera. So she hasn't forgotten me. But has she forgiven me for not staying in touch?

Heart racing, despite the passing of these many months, I read the message.

"So you're back now?" (How did she know?) "Come over for dinner. 7pm. No need to bring anything."

I glance at my watch. Just about time to dump my luggage, change and head over.

Forget the expense. I grab the nearest thing to some decent flowers from the arrivals lounge and a really nice Royal Tokaji (I remember she loves dessert wines), and charge out. "Taxi!" I shout as I leave terminal.

And so, at about quarter to seven, I'm standing, slightly breathless, outside her door, holding the flowers and Tokaji, with many thoughts going through my mind. How did I get here so quickly? Will she like the wine? Does she still love me? What have I forgotten? Why didn't I call her while I was away? Desperately trying to calm myself, I take a deep breath and ring the bell … and wait.

The door opens and Vera is standing there, just as I remember – and as I'd imagined – her. "You've come early". That voice, that elocution, that ... STOP IT. I'd forgotten how her voice penetrated straight into parts of my mind and played with them – and just how much I love her playing with them.

"Come in. Help me make our risotto," she murmured, sounding like the gentle caress of waves on the shore.

"I thought you might like these. I feel awful at not calling," I at last uttered as I stepped through the door.

"How beautiful – and a '93 Aszu. You do feel naughty. Here, let me chill that for you. Remember, distance makes the heart grow fonder." I wish my heart would stop stopping, it's so… distracting. And that she wouldn't stress words like that.

I followed her, helpless, like some adoring puppy into the kitchen. Get a grip of yourself. You're a grown man, not a puppy!

"Can you get the Carnaroli, please?" Car-na-rol-i. How can she make an ingredient sound like that? How can she make it so incredibly sensuous? And why do I feel an urge to slobber and go woof?

I find the rice and measure out the right amount.

"Here," she says, taking the rice and placing my hand on the saucepan with the oil and softened onions, into which she pours the rice. "The stock is ready. You can make the risotto." I've never made risotto. This will not go well. And her voice is not helping me concentrate – on cooking.

Somehow, sensing my unease, she carries on: "It's easy, just let it simmer and let your instincts guide you." She places the wooden spoon in my hand and then puts the first ladle of stock onto the rice. "Just play …" CONCENTRATE. "Turn the heat up with the stock for a moment, and then stir. Gently, then quickly, then perhaps softly, sometimes circle this way, sometimes that way, other times stoke the stock into the rice. Vary the rhythms, dance with the risotto, play with it." CONCENTRATE. MUST CONCENTRATE. "Lead the risotto, and then let it lead you, tease it, caress it, then add more stock and keep the play going and going."

I swallow far too loudly and nervously, and she busies herself with the final preparations of the roast pumpkin, parsley and parmesan.

As I stir, and combine, every few minutes, Vera comes over and rests her head on my shoulder. Her right hand glides gently along my arm until it rests on my hand and can gently guide me. "Pianissimo", I hear as she slows my hand. Other times it is "forte", as she raises the urgency, then "mezzo piano" as our hands slow. Sometimes her other hand reaches round in a caress.

"I'm almost done," I manage to say, as the last of the stock is almost gone.

POP. I jump.

"Perfect timing. Prosecco?" She smiles, and we add the final ingredients.

We never got round to the Tokaji.

zelda_pinwheel · 11-10-2008, 04:53 PM

zowie. lazyscot, bringing us a new episode in the finest tradition of Vera stories from the golden age of Vera stories. just... excuse me one moment, ah, i think i need to go open a window. and possibly splash some cold water on my face. i'll be fine in a second. bravo !

montsnmags · 11-10-2008, 07:11 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by HarryT

...
[Australian immigration officer] Have you got a criminal record?
[British tourist] No, I didn't know it was still necessary.
...

Courtesy of The Fast Show...

[Carl Hooper - a Steve Irwin type - is interviewing a lesbian, feminist professor on Gender Studies, and after making rude jokes about her for quite some time, she storms out]

Prof. Jane Pauler: You are a textbook example of a male chauvist, latent homosexual, neanderthal man!

Carl: Well, that's what being Australian is all about!

Cheers,
Marc

11-10-2008, 04:41 PM	#297
LazyScot DSil Posts: 3,201 Karma: 6895096 Join Date: Sep 2007 Location: Hants, UK Device: Kindle, Cybook	Here, or more accurately in the next post, is a one-shot attempt at a Vera tale. But a couple warnings first. Some of this is shamelessly plagarised from Nadine Abensur's excellent recipe for pumpkin and parsley risotto in The Cranks Bible. (I kid you not) I think this might be, um, pushing the boundaries a bit much? You have been warned.

11-10-2008, 04:44 PM	#298
LazyScot DSil Posts: 3,201 Karma: 6895096 Join Date: Sep 2007 Location: Hants, UK Device: Kindle, Cybook	Making Risotto I'd been away for far too long. Departmental politics, multihop routings through dubious (not to mention dubya) countries, never-ending meetings, urgent project overruns ... So little time, so many people to offend ... Still, after several months, here I am, back at last. And the mobile informs me I have a message. Vera. So she hasn't forgotten me. But has she forgiven me for not staying in touch? Heart racing, despite the passing of these many months, I read the message. "So you're back now?" (How did she know?) "Come over for dinner. 7pm. No need to bring anything." I glance at my watch. Just about time to dump my luggage, change and head over. Forget the expense. I grab the nearest thing to some decent flowers from the arrivals lounge and a really nice Royal Tokaji (I remember she loves dessert wines), and charge out. "Taxi!" I shout as I leave terminal. And so, at about quarter to seven, I'm standing, slightly breathless, outside her door, holding the flowers and Tokaji, with many thoughts going through my mind. How did I get here so quickly? Will she like the wine? Does she still love me? What have I forgotten? Why didn't I call her while I was away? Desperately trying to calm myself, I take a deep breath and ring the bell … and wait. The door opens and Vera is standing there, just as I remember – and as I'd imagined – her. "You've come early". That voice, that elocution, that ... STOP IT. I'd forgotten how her voice penetrated straight into parts of my mind and played with them – and just how much I love her playing with them. "Come in. Help me make our risotto," she murmured, sounding like the gentle caress of waves on the shore. "I thought you might like these. I feel awful at not calling," I at last uttered as I stepped through the door. "How beautiful – and a '93 Aszu. You do feel naughty. Here, let me chill that for you. Remember, distance makes the heart grow fonder." I wish my heart would stop stopping, it's so… distracting. And that she wouldn't stress words like that. I followed her, helpless, like some adoring puppy into the kitchen. Get a grip of yourself. You're a grown man, not a puppy! "Can you get the Carnaroli, please?" Car-na-rol-i. How can she make an ingredient sound like that? How can she make it so incredibly sensuous? And why do I feel an urge to slobber and go woof? I find the rice and measure out the right amount. "Here," she says, taking the rice and placing my hand on the saucepan with the oil and softened onions, into which she pours the rice. "The stock is ready. You can make the risotto." I've never made risotto. This will not go well. And her voice is not helping me concentrate – on cooking. Somehow, sensing my unease, she carries on: "It's easy, just let it simmer and let your instincts guide you." She places the wooden spoon in my hand and then puts the first ladle of stock onto the rice. "Just play …" CONCENTRATE. "Turn the heat up with the stock for a moment, and then stir. Gently, then quickly, then perhaps softly, sometimes circle this way, sometimes that way, other times stoke the stock into the rice. Vary the rhythms, dance with the risotto, play with it." CONCENTRATE. MUST CONCENTRATE. "Lead the risotto, and then let it lead you, tease it, caress it, then add more stock and keep the play going and going." I swallow far too loudly and nervously, and she busies herself with the final preparations of the roast pumpkin, parsley and parmesan. As I stir, and combine, every few minutes, Vera comes over and rests her head on my shoulder. Her right hand glides gently along my arm until it rests on my hand and can gently guide me. "Pianissimo", I hear as she slows my hand. Other times it is "forte", as she raises the urgency, then "mezzo piano" as our hands slow. Sometimes her other hand reaches round in a caress. "I'm almost done," I manage to say, as the last of the stock is almost gone. POP. I jump. "Perfect timing. Prosecco?" She smiles, and we add the final ingredients. We never got round to the Tokaji.

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11-10-2008, 01:58 PM	#286
GeoffC Chocolate Grasshopper ... Posts: 27,600 Karma: 20821184 Join Date: Mar 2008 Location: Scotland Device: Muse HD , Cybook Gen3 , Pocketbook 302 (Black) , Nexus 10: wife has PW	It's a well know fact that the air high in the Andes mountains is thin, deficient in oxygen and cold. It is also lacking, somewhat in molecules. Hence the neighbouring llama misheard his friend, it was not "harv!", .... but "merv!"?

11-10-2008, 03:59 PM	#292
pshrynk Beepbeep n beebeep, yeah! Posts: 11,726 Karma: 8255450 Join Date: Apr 2008 Location: La Crosse, Wisconsin, aka America's IceBox Device: iThingie, KmkII, I miss Zelda!	Well, now they look like reindeer doing yoga!

11-10-2008, 03:59 PM	#293
zelda_pinwheel zeldinha zippy zeldissima Posts: 27,827 Karma: 921169 Join Date: Dec 2007 Location: Paris, France Device: eb1150 & is that a nook in her pocket, or she just happy to see you?	i see them ! i SEE them !!! all hail vera !! llamas be ppraised !!!

11-10-2008, 04:03 PM	#294
pshrynk Beepbeep n beebeep, yeah! Posts: 11,726 Karma: 8255450 Join Date: Apr 2008 Location: La Crosse, Wisconsin, aka America's IceBox Device: iThingie, KmkII, I miss Zelda!	Sort of like an aerial Rorschach. I should be charging for this!

11-10-2008, 04:53 PM	#299
zelda_pinwheel zeldinha zippy zeldissima Posts: 27,827 Karma: 921169 Join Date: Dec 2007 Location: Paris, France Device: eb1150 & is that a nook in her pocket, or she just happy to see you?	zowie. lazyscot, bringing us a new episode in the finest tradition of Vera stories from the golden age of Vera stories. just... excuse me one moment, ah, i think i need to go open a window. and possibly splash some cold water on my face. i'll be fine in a second. bravo !