So, d’ye think I’m a dog bloke or a cat man?
Author: LanterneRouge
😎
Former scientist, now graduated to a life of leisure;
Family man (which may surprise the family - it certainly surprises him);
Likes cycling and old-fashioned B&W film photography;
Dislikes greasy-pole-climbing 'yes men';
Thinks Afterlife (previously known as Thea Gilmore) should be much better known than she is;
Values decency over achievement.
Quotes that made me laugh #46
If you encyst …
It’s been a while since a quote made me laugh out loud, but last week’s report of a sushi-loving Californian’s encounter with a tapeworm supplied a couple.
According to the Graun, a resident of Fresno managed to ‘pass’ a tapeworm around five feet six inches in length. Afterwards, he wrapped it around a loo roll and took it to his doctor and asked to be treated for ‘worms’.
The patient had initially been concerned that an extrusion from his derriere was a part of his intestines prolapsing. So why he thought it a good idea to give it a tug is anyone’s guess, but tug it he did and the rest of the tapeworm followed.
The article outlined the life cycle of the tapeworm in the region, noting that bears feeding off salmon can be an alternate host that re-transmit the parasite’s eggs when defecating in rivers. Larvae then hatch and infect small crustaceans that are eaten by salmon that are then caught and processed into sushi which is eaten by wannabe human hosts.
It was the doctor’s comment that made me laugh:
“He told me he was freaked out, but I guess when you think you’re dying because your entrails are shooting out your bottom and you find out it’s not you, but something else, that’s probably a good thing.”
As did a number of the BTL comments, notably this one:
“‘A typical life cycle might include a bear that feeds on salmon, then defecates back into the river’. That is what happens when bears don’t stick to the rules: they are meant to shit in the woods, not in the river“.
Postscript: One of the most interesting courses of my undergraduate years was on parasitology, which is why the stated size of the tapeworm didn’t surprise me. They can be much longer than the one above.
The human broad fish tapeworm (Diphyllobothriun latum) can grow up to 10 metres in length comprising a head and thousands of segments (proglottids). Proglottids regularly detach from the tail end and are ‘passed’ by the host before hatching into larvae.
As one of the symptoms of a tapeworm infection can be weight loss, it is no surprise that some people have been tempted to infect themselves for that very purpose (ingesting cysts from the beef tapeworm).
Indeed, tapeworms-as-diet-aid have been marketed for that very reason since the early 20th century – the soprano Maria Callas is reputed to have lost weight dramatically due to the tapeworm diet although many think it unlikely.
But be very careful, people! If the wrong species is ingested, larvae can migrate through the body before encysting which can have all sorts of serious effects (cysticercosis) including death. So don’t eat raw pork!
A limerick a week #70
For every action …
… there is an equal and opposite reaction; aka Newton’s Third Law of Motion.
It comes as no surprise then, that in response to Donald Trump’s support of the so-called birthing movement that questioned Barack Obama’s true country of origin, a social media reaction has taken place due to the dubiety of Trump’s recent medical report.
The girthing movement as it is known gets its name from doubts over Trump’s recorded weight and height, but it’s greater concern will ultimately comprise the report’s mendacious support of his fitness for office.
No-one could ever accuse Trump of modesty or humblebragging (“I think I am, actually humble. I think I’m much more humble than you would understand.”), but his latest excursion into the realms of fantasy is a hoot, (“[I’m a]Â a very stable genius”).
Really? When he believes that “The concept of global warming was created by and for the Chinese to make U.S. manufacturing non-competitive”?
What an idiot!
And here’s my tuppence-worth for the week …
With veracity ever so sparse
‘The Donald’ continues his farce
And fantasy meets
Vainglorious tweets
That prove he’s a true genie-a**e
Whether the weather be fine …
or whether the weather be not …
It’s astonishing that with most of the UK covered by weather warnings for snow and ice over the last couple of days, we in Aberdeen and the northeast of Scotland have yet to see sight of it (well, maybe on the far-distant Grampian mountains).
We’ve had two cold but beautifully sunny days with a third forecast for tomorrow. The Met Office weather warning infographic shows how much of the UK has been affected, with Aberdeen and its environs warning free.
Impressive, huh?
A limerick a week #69
It’s your funeral …
When Firstborn was little she once asked why dead people are buried in cemeteries. At her age the simplest and most concise answer was tell her that it was to stop people tripping over bodies in the street. That seemed to satisfy her curiosity!
Now, given recent news articles on a modern and (supposed) ecological approach to the disposal of corpses, the equivalent question may be to ask why do we simmer the dead in a pressure cooker (although the answer would stay the same).
This entered my mind last Spring when the Graun reported on the various legal ways that exist to avoid cluttering the streets with decaying matter. One novel approach that is gaining traction in North America comprises alkaline hydrolysis, where a body is put into a sealed container (a so-called resomator) and immersed in a strong solution of hydrogen peroxide; alkali at pH 14. This is then heated to 150°c or more under pressure (so that it doesn’t boil) and left to cook for a while before the liquid effluent is drained and the remaining ‘solids’ are rinsed.
Sounds charming, doesn’t it? However, it is said that the ecological benefits are that such ‘liquid cremations’ use far less energy than the traditional fire ceremonies and the liquid residue can be poured down the sanitary sewers or used as a garden fertiliser (the effluent is less alkali than the starting solution).
The solid residue comprises any implants or mercury amalgam fillings (beautifully clean, of course, and no mercury emissions to the atmosphere) and bones. The latter are then dried and crushed to produce the ‘ashes’ to be handed over to the next of kin (or, presumably, dug in to a rose bed!).
In the UK, the first application to start-up a resomation service is now on hold as the relevant licensing bodies remain unconvinced of the benign nature of the effluent. There is also a perception that the Great British public is not yet ready to see its loved ones poured down the drains.
Me? Well, although I think historical graveyards are terrific places to wander around, I don’t like modern ones. Neither do I like the idea of going up in flames or being dissolved. Personally, I want a woodland burial (many years in the future, of course) and, hopefully, without being embalmed (no chemical additives, please!).
Here’s a cheery limerick to finish with …
If the thought of it fills you with dread,
Be assured, or so it is said,
That St Peter awaits
At the Heavenly gates
While we’re slowly dissolving the dead!
A limerick a week #68
Words spoken, but not quite in jest
A recent Graun review of Jon Richardson’s comedy and our own escalating plans for a kitchen renovation came into conjunction this week.
Richardson’s comedy is often based on his obsessive-compulsive disorder. He hypothesizes two types of people: Putters and Leavers. Putters, as the name suggests, put away things that are left out (compulsively in Richardson’s case) and Leavers are, of course,  the folk that leave things hanging around until a Putter comes along.
Richardson’s partner, the comedian Lucy Beaumont, is a Leaver and this conflicts with him domestically and is where a lot of his comedy arises. In our family we reverse the rôles, with me the Leaver and Management the Putter (Me: “Where’s my [insert any item that was left lying around]?” She: “I moved it!“).
Meanwhile, on the kitchen front, our plans include provision for a dog bed in the utility room, and this reflects our continuing conversation about getting a dog when I retire, which is where things crossover into Richardson’s world of Putters and Leavers. Discussions about how a dog would fit into the reshaping of our kitchen moved on to it being trained properly and that made me think: Is it possible to train a Leaver to be a Putter and vice versa?
I speculated that to avoid domestic disharmony, I could try to train Management to be a Leaver or she could try to train me as a Putter. In fact, it would be quite funny if we both tried successfully to train the other and managed to reverse our rôles. Her response was cutting: “Just you train the dog and leave me to train you!”
I know my place!
A puppy’s most likely to chew
A slipper, a sock or a shoe
But as you are slovenly
 I’ll tell you (quite lovingly)
“You train the dog; I’ll train you!”
A limerick a week #67
Veni. Vidi. Vinum! I came. I saw. I drank!
My sister has a labrador retriever called Benjo. I was mulling this over the other day as I am 18 months into a two-and-a-half-year conversation with Management whether we should get a dog when I retire.
Labradors (retrievers or otherwise), spaniels (springer or cocker), trail hounds (a Cumbrian speciality), beagles and border collies have all come under consideration and a collie is now favourite.
We saw one, a real character, at the local rehoming centre the other week; an eight-year-old called Sam. Sadly I was still too far off retirement to try for him, but we were pleased to see that he didn’t have to wait long to be rehomed by someone else.
So what have dogs got to do with the header for this post? Well, Firstborn returned from my mother’s 90th birthday celebration with this pic of my sister laying into some wine …
… which, firstly, inspired this week’s ALAW:
An artist of sorts she just shrugs
When told to use glasses not mugs
“I’ve got the capacity
To drink with rapacity”
She said as she showed off her jugs!
and then it made me think. She shouldn’t have a labrador retriever. What she really needs is …
… a Bordeaux collie!
A limerick a week #66
Happy birthday (tomorrow), mum!
A few lines of verse in appreciation of nonagenarian matriarchs …
We have fathers and sisters and brothers,
Uncles and aunties and others
But now mine has reached ninety
We think it’s a mighty
Good thing we’ve especially got mothers!
Sentimental Saturday
Why don’t you read it again …
So, social media gives us several ways to recycle old posts, such as: #TakeMeBackTuesday, #WayBackWednesday, #ThrowbackThursday and #FlashbackFriday. Not much for Saturday, Sunday or Monday, though, and, as I am rather keen to recycle one of my old posts (to become an annual event at this time of year!), why don’t you click on the link below (#SentimentalSaturday) …
A limerick a week #12 – The Mytheltoe Bough aka A Game of Bride and Seek
… you’re welcome!
A limerick a week #65
How likely is that?
So, Basil Brush’s old mucker, Mr Rodney, is no more. Best known as Bob Ferris, one of TV’s Likely Lads of the 1960s and 70s, Rodney Bewes’ post-peak public utterances made him seem a rather bitter person.
Perhaps this was due to his struggle then to get the rôles he felt he deserved, or possibly he was envious of the fact that James Bolam playing Terry Collier, the other Likely Lad, went on to an acting career that entirely eclipsed that of his own.
Subsequently, Bewes seemed to go on and on about a ‘falling out’ with Bolam and that he longed for The Likely Lads to be updated as their characters aged. Perhaps fewer ‘heart-on-sleeve’ interviews would have been less of an irritant to Bolam who might, just might, have then been more receptive to the idea (though I doubt it).
Whereas Bolam and Bewes were the principal stars of both incarnations of The Likely Lads, they were more than matched by the actress Brigit Forsyth playing Bewes long-suffering, but spiky wife, Thelma, in the 1970s productions. I also think that Sheila Fearn playing Audrey, Terry’s sister, is too often overlooked for the part that she played in the series.
And I do also recall Anita Carey in her few appearances as Susan, Thelma’s sister. Along with Judi Bowker, Stacy Dorning and, of course, Jenny Agutter, she was one of the 1970s actresses that remain etched in the memory of schoolboy day-dreams!
Here’s the limerick …
The rift with his old mate was sad
And he envied the success that he’d had
So despite what we know
Of the eponymous show
He was really an Unlikely Lad.
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