StreetCowboy

We're all entitled to our own opinion. I think it would have been more honest to say that you did not understand the post, and let others make their own mind up on whether it made sense. I am going to kid on that I am interested in what a cc movement is.

cc movement? And you ask What I am on about? I take it your cc movement is either a form of clockwork, or a deliberate attempt to divert the discussion to whatever special interest you have. People don't understand the extent to which clock movements changed geography and our understanding of the world, and I had not intended to address that ignorance in this thread.

The fundamental principle of The War On Truth is not that other people are wrong, or lying, and I am right, or honest. The fundamental principle is that although I am lying, so is everyone else, and that you cannot believe anything other than what you would like to believe, with complete disregard for facts or evidence. That is the post-truth philosophy that Putin and his Western rented sock-puppets are pushing.

Ne'er mind, could've been worse. Might be tomorrow, when the shills get at it

Back in the day, I had a fairly close friend - we'd drunk together since High School. We were out in the town, and we were in a 'night club', and we got into a not-good-natured bit of discussion with some lads. I went off to the washroom, before the trouble started, and as I was coming out, three of them piled in. As I left, the door handle to the washroom came away in my hand, and I went over to one of the bouncers to pass it on to him and give a brief explanation. I then returned to our table, and as I arrived, my buddy stood up to ask what had happened, and somebody lamped him. The other parties were ejected by the bouncers, we left shortly after, and I believe they were subsequently arrested for assaulting an innocent bystander on the way home, for which I feel guilty. Anyway, you don't stand up to take a bullet, you stand up for your friend. How you do that may vary. Back in the day, we'd been out, and an acquaintance was suffering the thirst of drink. We'd ended up in a late opening basement on an understreet, and the first inkling of trouble was seeing A being assisted towards the door by the bouncers. "I'll help him home" I said; the bouncer was not immediately conciliatory. I took over the job of pushing A out the door. A (over my shoulder, to bouncer):"See if I was sober, I could take you" I ducked out of the way, the bouncer head-butted A, the second bouncer drew the first bouncer away and pushed A out into the street, I got out into the road, and the second bouncer was giving him a resounding kicking in the middle of the street. "I think he's had enough now, thank you very much, let me take him home" "Aye, well effin this and effin that" "Yes, no problem. We won't; thank you" I suppose life was different, back in the day.

That's great, only needing to use one hand at a time

Acquaintances. Hitch-hikers; mendicants

Persuade aspiring actresses

I think Extra Time is so much better than Next Goal The Winner, up to a limit based on the reasonable stocks that a pub can be expected to hold in their cellars. Unlike the OP, I am not too distressed by the passing of celebrities, although I still struggle to believe that Lee Brilleaux is dead. My dear old grandmother died quite late in her life, and my choice then and now would be that I would die younger. Back in the day, I did not realise that the peril of hard living was not that one died young, but that one became old sooner before one's years.

Drifters don't have friends. Friends are not people who would take a bullet for you. Friends are people for whom you would take a bullet. No-one would ask their friends to take a bullet.

That's probably part of Putin's War On Truth. Have you checked today the Wikipedia score for the 1966 World Cup ?

We are all entitled to our opinions, but modern cars have far lower fatality rates and far lower failure rates than their older brethren. While I would love to drive a classic car, I would hate to own one, and would rely on my Nissan for transport if I did.

That's their problem, not mine

They're certainly not as smart as you and I. These boffins in their white coats, researching the frontiers of knowledge; buffoons to a man. All the technology that we take for granted now - built on the shoulders of numpties. Microchips, computers, medicine - the produce of clowns. The engineers that have developed safe, efficient and powerful cars - clueless farm hacks. To be honest, apart from you and I, the entire human race are dolts. And I'm not so sure about you.

How do you distinguish that which is known but not real?

Not long till twenty-second of July...

David Watts, by The Kinks, and subsequently, The Jam

When I look back on all the mistakes I’ve made, there’s none that I would not make again, given what I knew then. There’s no point wishing - I’m not David Watts, and I was never willing to do the effort required to be him.

How did you cope when he lost interest? I suppose, carry on regardless. Who cares if he’s paying attention…

The harder the struggle... You can get it if you really want, but you must try, try and try, try and try But you don't want to end end up like Ivan

That all sounds a bit Pol Pot.

It looks like there is a long term rising trend, but for some reason there was a dip between the mid 90s until recently. No-one asked questions about that. is anyone asking why drug deaths are lower than in 2007? Has the world gone mad?

Do wealthy people not enact their privilege?

Forgetful? Condescending? -so? phisticated? apy? fa? If you're struggling to find the right word, like money, it's worth having a look down the back of the sofa.

I have heard it alleged that colonial English is more akin to the English of the 18th or 19th century than that which is spoken in the Home Nations today. No doubt the second-hand allegation would be more convincing were I to provide a reference, but for now, you will have to accept my word that the rumour or claim exists, and treat it as no less nor more credible than any other circulating gossip, and form your own opinion whether you agree. I have also heard that Elvis is alive and living on a WW2 bomber on the moon, though that was some years ago, and less likely to be true now than it was then, if such improbability can be imagined or quantified. Back in the day, neighbouring towns had sufficient difference in accent, dialect and slang that you could recognise your neighbours in a crowd of strangers. Television has done much more (in my opinion) to dilute that diversity than did radio; indeed local radio may have gone some small way to reinforcing our parochial prejudices. Anyway, my advice for getting to Nirvana: - Don't try and turn off the highway; although it passes closely by you can't get to it from there; better to get back down to the earthly plane and start from there; Nirvana looks like one of the fancy Thai massage night club places as you drive past on the highway, but most of the clientele are too late for their final happy ending; - As mentioned, avoid the stray dogs, who may be hungrier now that burials are no longer in fashion compared to torching in an incinerator; the waiting rooms down by the graveyard where the dogs lurk do not look as luxurious as the incinerator house - it's a nice ride through the big cemetery, with grand views, but the pub there has closed. If there is a bar in the Nirvana incinerator building I am not aware of it, nor in the waiting rooms. Not to worry, it's not far from there to the bright lights of Bukit Bintang, or you could've stopped in a toddy shop next to the international school, where you can get wild boar and iguana on the menu, as well as toddy or Tiger.