papasmerf
Senior Member
- Joined
- Aug 9, 2010
- Messages
- 33,614
Sarah said:The BBC doesn't make stuff up like CNN and FOX does. :don'twantto-see:/
the on;y reliable news source is if you see it for yourself
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Sarah said:The BBC doesn't make stuff up like CNN and FOX does. :don'twantto-see:/
papasmerf said:the on;y reliable news source is if you see it for yourself
Even then, it depends on how many drinks you've had.
papasmerf said:the on;y reliable news source is if you see it for yourself
Even then, it depends on how many drinks you've had.
even then it is better than CNN
Sarah said:Stone age axe found with wood handle
bobistheowl said:Wow, I can't believe that this conversation didn't take place in a more appropriate thread.
These last few posts, (#718-#723), from we three, might serve a greater purpose, if they were moved to the Richard Simmons has aids thread, where they rightfully belong, so they would no longer disrupt the narrative of this thread, where certain individuals come to seek refuge from the omnipresent pork room spillover.
Sarah said:Do you try to micromanage all the conversations that take place around you in real life too bob?
Sarah said:Do you try to micromanage all the conversations that take place around you in real life too bob?
I can't believe that happened :-Cool/"
I guess you didn't see my new avatar.
Only papasmerf will understand the image joke, and neither of us will explain it to the rest of you, for completely different reasons.
No I didn't notice your avatar until you pointed it out. NO SOUP FOR YOU!
Sounds like you and papa are gettin' tight. :wink2:
No I didn't notice your avatar until you pointed it out. NO SOUP FOR YOU!
Sounds like you and papa are gettin' tight. :wink2:
I have no problem whatsoever with any of the things either of you do.
I have very big problems with where you do it.
That's no secret. I've said it, I don't know, at least 15 times, publicly and privately, in a number of different threads and PMs.
There are times when I like to sit in my backyard and pontificate, (#3), and I get hit on the head by a long rib bone, with a bunch of sauce on one end, that some kid at the barbeque in the backyard of the house next door threw over the fence. I don't mind when the neighbour kids come by to pet the pheasant, in the avian vivarium. I don't mind if they want to use the tree house, I didn't fix the broken floor boards for me. I don't mind if they want to read a stack of comic books. I don't mind if they want to ask me a bunch of dumb questions. I don't mind if they want to show me the story that got them a gold star from the teacher who doesn't give them to everyone. I do mind, when they play tic-tac-toe on the garage door, with an indelible marker. The neighbour on the other side was not quite as patient.
Anyone who has ever ridden public transit would agree that there is one thing they dread the most. It's not the crazy woman who goes up to everyone and asks if they have two dollars. It's not the guy with the deaf mute cards. It's not the guy handing out those two by four inch religious comic books. It's not the guy on the opposite side of the subway car that thinks you're starring at him. It's not the homeless guy with wet trousers, well it is him, but they can't afford public transit anymore. I'm not talking about Mad Man, in case someone was reading too much into that. He knows which restaurants will give him access to a clean toilet in which to wash his hair, and a saucer of warm milk, for some get up and go.
It's not the teenager with a huge backpack that turns his entire body around to talk to his buddies, standing on either side of him. It's not the man who wears the same suit jacket all summer long, holding the strap. It's the nine year-olds on a field trip, and the background noise they create.
I have no problem whatsoever with any of the things either of you do.
I have very big problems with where you do it.
That's no secret. I've said it, I don't know, at least 15 times, publicly and privately, in a number of different threads and PMs.
There are times when I like to sit in my backyard and pontificate, (#3), and I get hit on the head by a long rib bone, with a bunch of sauce on one end, that some kid at the barbeque in the backyard of the house next door threw over the fence. I don't mind when the neighbour kids come by to pet the pheasant, in the avian vivarium. I don't mind if they want to use the tree house, I didn't fix the broken floor boards for me. I don't mind if they want to read a stack of comic books. I don't mind if they want to ask me a bunch of dumb questions. I don't mind if they want to show me the story that got them a gold star from the teacher who doesn't give them to everyone. I do mind, when they play tic-tac-toe on the garage door, with an indelible marker. The neighbour on the other side was not quite as patient.
Anyone who has ever ridden public transit would agree that there is one thing they dread the most. It's not the crazy woman who goes up to everyone and asks if they have two dollars. It's not the guy with the deaf mute cards. It's not the guy handing out those two by four inch religious comic books. It's not the guy on the opposite side of the subway car that thinks you're starring at him. It's not the homeless guy with wet trousers, well it is him, but they can't afford public transit anymore. I'm not talking about Mad Man, in case someone was reading too much into that. He knows which restaurants will give him access to a clean toilet in which to wash his hair, and a saucer of warm milk, for some get up and go.
It's not the teenager with a huge backpack that turns his entire body around to talk to his buddies, standing on either side of him. It's not the man who wears the same suit jacket all summer long, holding the strap. It's the nine year-olds on a field trip, and the background noise they create.
Sarah said:I'm really sorry you have problems with where I choose to post bob, and I'm even sorrier that you find my posts to be the equivalent of graffiti on your garage door or background noise made by nine year-olds on a field trip.
:Crying/:
bobistheowl said:Jackie Stewart used to do television commercials in French.
Like most Formula One drivers, Jackie could speak English, French and Italian, at least, in order to communicate with mechanics, sponsors, and The Press. He drove for MATRA, (Mécanique Aviation Traction), in 1968 and '69, (then using the Cosworth DFV engine) winning his first World Driver's Championship in 1969 for them. They later made their own F1 V-12 engine for 1970-72, but only made the podium five times, all third places.
They later made engines for Shadow in 1975 and L'Equipe Ligier from 1976-79, with Gitanes sponsorship, and again in 1981-82, as Talbot, but none of their engines were turbocharged.
Jackie shilled Blue Polly Car Wax in commercials that aired in Quebec, probably filmed while he was in North America to do commentary for the Canadian Grand Prix and the US Grand Prix East at Watkins Glen, which used to be the last two races of the season, in September, after they dropped the Mexico race, because the track was so dangerous, and the spectators were so stupid. It's really weird, hearing French spoken with a thick Scottish accent.
Those Mexican spectators used to sit on bales of straw that were, like, three feet from the racing line, with no guard rail in between, and some of the corners had half tires embedded in the ground, with no curbing, just paint, which would be like ice, if it rained, and the tires would launch a car sky high, if it hit one of them.
Full size:
Drivers didn't wear seat belts back then, either, because if the car went upside down, they'd land on their heads. They had a better chance of surviving if they were thrown clear.
Ah, those early Grand Prix from the 60's and 70's were exercises in how to kill spectators and drivers alike.
papasmerf said:Yup
A lot like NASCAR