What makes you think its a chase?

Yakety Sax generally indicates a comic chase scene, and I can hear the horn section loud and clear.

So I called a guy slitty-eyed. Its a fact, as I stated. I could have called him a cunt or worse.

And everyone knows there’s nothing worse than a cunt.

… Oh, wait.

flicking cigar butts into the rustling bushes below.

Being above the bushes….. I hope its the rainy season or the platform could quickly turn into an inferno.

And I presume Niall is forced to run naked in the chase.

mono y mono

FYI gilmae in Spanish “mono” = monkey. I don’t know if it was inadvertent or not but it’s apt.
Pretty soon it’s going to be bananas at five paces across the cage.

Any minute now we’ll know who truly is the best blogger in the interworld.

Niall when hes addressed here, mano e mano: Go away.

No m

‘just curious’ strikes me as meiotic understatement

‘Meiotic understatement’ strikes me as a tautological redundancy.

Time someone did a Venn diagram of all this.

Think I’ll leave that to someone with a better grasp of non-Euclidean geometries – this pointless little squabble really needs to be charted on the hyperbolic plane.

I blame Kevin Donnelly and The Australian – if they’d done a better job of getting the grammar wars started, this pointless dispute would be happening elsewhere. There’s no hope of any of the commenters here taking themselves off to enlist in the Austen wars – that’s girly stuff, ill-befitting guys with the cojones to go mano a mano.

To be fair tim, it wouldn’t have this got far without you initially pointing out that a non-issue should be an issue.

Now I point the finger fairly and squarely at myself for (hopefully) inciting a meta-debate about how an issue, or the lack of one, becomes an issue.

Are you saying Naills appeared unclothed on the web?

Niall, is that true or are they bullshitin’ us? Dude…

Last time we went through the screening area at Darwin airport on the way to Melbourne I got pulled aside after passing all the scanners without incident. “What’s going on?” Jen asked, coming up behind me after retrieving her belongings from the x-ray machine. “Random explosives test,” I explained. “It’s the fourth time in a row they’ve picked me out for one of these. They must suspect I’m an albino Muslim terrorist.”

“You’re a racist!” exclaimed the security woman passing a wand over my body with increasingly frantic motions. “I’ll have you know one of our security guards is an Indian”

“But Islam is a religion not a race,” I said. She wasn’t impressed. I take Tim’s objection every bit as seriously.