On sabbatical

A note to my esteemed readers: CR is going on summer vacation. I have a lot going on, and not enough time and desire to blog. I’ll keep the site online, and return when circumstance permits. Thank you.

Answers from Mr Answer

Today I branch out into the advice column game. The Times Online columnist Eco Worrier tried to answer this question:

How can I persuade my husband to use a push mower?

The Times suggest that she manipulate him.

Target his weakness. Is he a touch sensitive about his growing tummy? Point out that according to Which? magazine, cutting a lawn with a push mower allows a 60kg person to burn 360 calories an hour. If your husband counts the pennies, emphasise that it costs an average of 20p every 100ml of fuel for a mower with a petrol tank and about 4p for every 20 minutes that you use a 1700W electric mower.

Thank you for playing, but that is not correct. Mr Answers says if you think a push mower is worth pushing, remove ass from chair and push it your own damn self.

The Long Bet.

I’d side with Buffet on this one.

The Hellecasters

I haven’t posted any music lately. Here’s Orange Blossom Special, performed like you never heard it before, by one of the Hellecasters.

Those Hellecaster boys can play guitar. If you want to hear the whole band in action, check this out.

Theory and Practice

Ramirez:

Mark Steyn:

Only last week, another of his pals bit the dust, convicted by a Chicago jury of 16 counts of this and that. “This isn’t the Tony Rezko I knew,” said the senator, in what’s becoming a standard formulation. Likewise, this wasn’t the Jeremiah Wright he knew. And these are guys he’s known for 20 years.

Yet at the same time as he’s being stunned by the corruption and anti-Americanism of those closest to him, Obama’s convinced that just by jetting into Tehran and Pyongyang he can get to know America’s enemies and persuade them to hew to the straight and narrow. No doubt if it all goes belly-up, and Iran winds up nuking Tel Aviv, President Obama will put on his more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger face and announce solemnly that “this isn’t the Mahmoud Ahmadinejad I knew.”

The internet cookbook

Here are a couple of recipes. Each is worthwhile on it’s own, but together hobo wine and a cream pie turd are a meal fit for a king. A hat tip to the always awesome Anarchaia.