Notice the message bottom of screen appearing when Patriots were on the 25 yard line, BEFORE they won the game with a touchdown.
My prediction: Hillary Clinton by a landslide
but I’ve been wrong before
Kate McKinnon, Alec Baldwin, you’ve been wonderful.
Equestrian: (noun) a rider or performer on horseback [Oxford Dictionary]
The 2016 Rio Olympics Equestrian event:
OVER 200 HORSES WILL BE COMPETING IN 3 CLASSIFICATIONS: DRESSAGE, JUMPING AND CROSS COUNTRY.
I’m sorry, what? I thought the Olympic Games are for humans. Horses want to compete in the Olympics? They aren’t perfectly content galloping in the wild?
Don’t you agree Star Power would be a lot happier without Ian Miller on his back, and without that bit in his mouth?
The bit:Bitted horses often open their mouths… to avoid contact pain. [Buckit List , November 28, 2013]
“Equestrian: The only Olympic sport in which men and women compete against each other on a level playing field.” [Rio 2016 web site]
That is, horses’ backs.
Dressage (performing a routine by memory), jumping, and cross country [an “endurance” test “to prove the speed, endurance and jumping ability” Wikipedia] should go ahead with just the riders, poshed up in their riding boots, pants, jackets and hats.
As spectacular as this looks, imagine how much more pleasurable, challenging it will be without the horse:Take the equus out of equestrian.
Henrik Von Eckermann, assume the position:
Hands clenched as if holding reins;
Traversing the course in a galloping gait.
Wouldn’t you really rather see that red jacketed competitor assuming the position?
Chariot racing ended almost 2,000 years ago.
Friends, it’s 2016.
Riders (an archaic term used before animals were banned from Olympic competition):
Assume The Position
A hush falls through the crowd.
A pistol fires. And they’re off!
Every month The Scotch Malt Whisky Society holds at least one tasting event at Legacy Liquor Store, the only retail outlet in Vancouver selling The Society’s scotch. Society buyers ship it by the cask from Scotland, and bottle it in Vancouver.
As we take our places around a large wooden table with trays of appropriate finger foods spread about – figs, sausages, olives, dried fruit, cheeses, chocolate and nuts, the evening begins with our host enthusing about our great good fortune at being here tonight. This is followed by some chat about a very large distillery by the English border who sells all of their whisky to one city in China that we’ve never heard of.
Thus, it is especially important for us to fully comprehend the blessings we all share; that is, scotch whisky is still to be had in Scottish distilleries farther north, where they haven’t yet realized how much faster they could sell this liquid gold without any distribution bureaucracy by shipping it straight to Asia.
I don’t need any reminders about my good fortune. It was a miracle I got a ticket. After they are turned over to the riff raft online, there is a window of opportunity of 1.45 minutes, with no warning when it’s coming, to grab a spot.
We are reminded as we savour each sip: When it’s gone, it’s gone.
And before that, before it’s gone, if I brought all $286 in my piggy bank in the hope of buying a bottle I would probably be out of luck because I don’t belong to the Society.
After inhaling a portion of the glass I’m ready for a wee taste. Yikes, that’s strong. 60% strong. I drop in a little water and taste again. Better.
The polite formality slowly slips under the table as we make our way through the offerings.
If you don’t drink scotch, or your whisky drinking involves ice and coke, you may have never considered that the dram you are drinking is a cousin of Genie in a Bottle. – from the Summer Picnic outturn: “…a puff of flittering, well rounded, perfused smoke.” [emphasis theirs]
Or A Ballerina at the Barbecue: “Our ballerina sits on damp decking tending to her weary toes with TCP antiseptic and lint bandage from an antiquated first aid box.”
“A Bloody Mary revives her flagging spirit as she lights a fire pit to start cooking white fish wrapped in bacon and spritzed with lime juice.”
ok, it’s getting better
“She snacks on popcorn with sea salt and cracked black pepper and cucumber sandwiches from warm Tupperware.”
There’s the “Juicy, oak & vanilla” of Tantalizing Tannins, the “Sweet, fruity & mellow” Lay Your Head On My Pillow, or the “Deep, rich & dried fruits” of Summer’s Night In Lovers’ Lane: “…butterflies of scent…The palate was equally multidimensional – Danish pastries and butter croissants, juicy grass and pipe tobacco, plus ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg spice. The reduced nose was just as inspiring…hot summer nights in Lovers’ Lane after rain (telegraph poles and honeysuckle).
Who makes this stuff up?
… oh, honeysuckle, yes, I’m getting that now.
You’ve been good to me most years, except the ones when I was bad. Those were the years.
Anyhoo Santa, I’ve been pretty, mostly good.
This year please bring a very large home. It should have lots of hallways leading off in different directions. And sound proof bedrooms far away from one another. Also plumbing, lots of it. Rooms overflowing with devices hooked up to pipes.
This very large home should have fireplaces. And an oil stove in the kitchen. Yes, there I said it, oil.
I would like it to be on the water so I could hear waves at night. Qualicum Beach would be nice.
Last night when I put the game on I saw that terrorists had taken over the NY Mets playing field.
But, they are playing baseball after all. This might be ok.
Today though, in the 3rd game of the NLCS, I had to reconsider: Has my judgement been sans souci? Indeed.
Under those semi baklavas are not enemies of the state but cold baseball players. Cold, because the temperature in New York is about 40 degrees F according to Ernie.
Baseball is going to continue through October. And, unless a team wins 4 straight in the World Serious, into November. Don’t get me wrong. I love baseball. But November?
I guess that’s like playing hockey in June.