Details after the jump.
Details after the jump.
South African website Wheels24 has announced that a poll says the Peugeot 207 is the gayest car, and the Audi RS24 is the straightest.
Ah, school uniforms. An academic in Edinburgh thinks school uniforms remind people of the Nazi youth. I remember the days when I (indeed, all students in Singapore) wore a school uniform and hated it. We were so taken by images of American students who could wear whatever they wanted. Mind you, I was in a rather strict school, where jewellery, even the simplest kinds, were not allowed, and if you had long hair, you could only use black or dark blue hair elastics. If you wore your hair short, there couldn’t be any evidence of having used a clipper (how they could tell I’ll never know, I got away with an undercut with designs razored into my scalp for a year — what a rebel).
And now that I’ve reached the wizened old age of 30 (almost 31!), I’ve got boring and am very much in favour of uniforms (although I’d definitely allow simple jewellery, but no precious stones) in school. I was very lucky that there weren’t glaring class issues in my school (it was considered an ‘elite’ school, but I don’t think I really bothered too much about who had or didn’t have, it was all about grades, grades, grades), but I can imagine the pressure kids are under to wear and/or own the ‘right’ things.
Uniforms level the playing field, so to speak. That’s not exactly rocket science. Parents don’t get hassled by their kids to buy them the trendiest clothes more often than they already do. Cliques in school aren’t exacerbated by how well or expensively you dress. There’s already enough peer pressure, and since kids are in school to get a decent education, the focus of pressure should be on educational achievement (by that I mean in extra-curricular activities as well) and not on what brand of clothing you wear.
I love potatoes. Mashed, fried, boiled, roasted, thinly sliced and fried into crisps… this very lousy GI starch is pretty much my favourite carbohydrate of them all. And these crispy potato pancakes look absolutely heavenly.
Aside: on Saturday Kitchen, a ‘celebrity’ tells us their food ‘heaven’ and ‘hell’, and we’re supposed to phone in and vote for one, and James Martin will cook the viewer’s choice. I reckon if I ever became ‘worthy’ of the term ‘celebrity’ and appeared on the show, no one would cook my food hell (usually durian), because no one could stand to be in the same room as that bloody fruit.
I highly doubt I’d be able to follow the instructions on this recipe, but I’ll have you know that I made up my own that is kinda-sorta similar back in 2003, when I first moved to Xiamen and had absolutely bugger all to do. Here it is:
2 small to medium potatoes, thinly sliced or shredded (I used the slicey thing on the shredder)
1 rasher bacon, sliced into small pieces
1 or 2 tbsp Italian dressing
Heat a frying pan. Start frying the bacon pieces, then add the potato and mix the bacon around in it, making sure it’s evenly distributed. Add the Italian dressing and mix it in. Check on it and mix it around until the potato is cooked — slightly crisp is best.
I’ve never made it for anyone else, but I ate it and didn’t get sick, so it can’t be too bad.
This is why Scott Adams is a genius:
I’m anxiously awaiting the next innovation in restroom automation. I assume developers are already working on the last mile: A robotic arm to unzip my pants, grab my unit, then do the holding, shaking, and repackaging. I’m too busy to do that stuff for myself. Plus I was already spoiled by the time they automated the paper towel dispenser.
The Autopee device (it needs a name) would be problematic because every guy is built different. Somehow it would need to know the dimensions of what’s behind your zipper so it didn’t accidentally neuter you. I suppose the best way to do that is to have some sort of voice recognition software that asks you what kind of car you drive. If it’s a Porsche, for example, you might be compensating. If it’s a Honda minivan, you’re probably sporting an anaconda.
You’d also have to tell the Autopee how much shaking you want, ranging anywhere from two quick flicks to a happy ending.
Good luck getting that image out of your head.
The man can draw AND write. How unfair. And by the way, he didn’t mention an Autopee equivalent for the women, unless he reckons women are less lazy than men. Or because he’s a man, and didn’t even THINK of the women. Misogynist.
Eulogy for a Tyrant. An enlightening read.
How good does this sound: Anchovy Butter Cheese Toasts. Yum!!
This is not a resolutions list. I repeat, this is not a resolutions list. If it was, I would be a very, very sad person with no ambition.
What are your non-resolutions?