A three-speed bicycle: Adagio, Moderato and Allegro

Catastrophic though it was, at least the freak accident took place right outside the Old Entomologist. The scientists from Riddled Research Laboratory were well-placed to rush to the scene as soon as they had finished their pints. No-one else would have had the training, or indeed the inclination, to salvage the pathetic fragments of carnage scattered around and reassemble the victim.
It only occurred to us later, as we congratulated one another on a job well-done -- except for Another Kiwi who was grumbling about the packet of Mrs Miggins' taro crisps that he had left half-eaten on the counter and which greedy bastard flogged it? -- that perhaps there might have been more than one victim.

Then one discovers through the Great Gazoogle that exactly the same thing has happened before. Perhaps it is an old tradition, or a charter or something.


In related news, Modern Science brings us graphic proof of the Molecule Theory of bicycle-human atomic interpenetration. Below is a photograph at the cellular level showing bicycle atoms migrating in amidst human atoms, impelled by the agitation of cycling across the potholed roads of the parish.

A corollary of the Molecule Theory: every time Megan McArdle buys a bicycle, the atomic interchange will progress far enough for the vehicle to acquire some of her personality, whereupon it will Go Galt.

Before and after science

Before [right eye]

After [left eye]

When the Tleilaxu eyes go out of whack like this and get stuck on different chronometric settings, there is binocular rivalry and double vision rather than binocular fusion.
Some afternoons it is just not worth getting out of bed.

TLEILAXU BONUS!

And the train conductor says "Take a break driver 8"

"... a speeding locomotive abandoned for years to the delirium of a virgin forest"

-- for values of "speeding" that include 6 mph uphill and 10 mph downhill.

Giant-brained Oyster Boys are swimming for me now

Who would win?
Genetically-engineered intelligent sea-otters outnumbered by hostile aliens on a largely-aquatic planet...

Or Uplifted intelligent dolphins outnumbered by hostile aliens on a largely-aquatic planet?

Later editions of Startide Rising switch to sodding Serif Gothic on the cover art. Evidently someone in the marketing department decided that dolphins are sufficiently lupine to be covered by the Wolf Effect.

Watch out for Doctor Dream

The newest upgrade to the Riddled Dream Machine is proving popular with the punters.* See how long the queue has grown! It is the 'subtitle' feature that draws in the crowds, for Riddled's loyal customers are cultured and educated and they would rather watch the original foreign dream than wait for the inevitable Hollywood remake with Nic Cage or Tom Cruise.
The next customer in line is receiving his complimentary pint of Matariki Mild (we strain the lumps out!). Normally they do not struggle while it is administered. I am not convinced that it is a good idea to use the library pixies' swimming-pool as the Restraint Chair but the architect said it was multipurposed negative space and inwards / outwards flow.
As for the customer with the pet skwirl, she was warned about the "Mrs Spat" problem so she shall not be receiving a replacement.

Evangeline van Holsteren's
idiot boyfriend is BARRED

No-one has adequately explained to me how the Dream Machine actually works. Yes, it sucks in psychic images from the Ectoplasmoferous Æther and concentrates them around the user's head in the manner of a sweat lodge with warmth to open the pores, but when I ask AK for details, it's all just hand-waving. It looks to me as if the imagery is sticking to some sort of adhesive blanket, though that's probably because my mind is still on "Air-Hockey and Mucus-Sheet Feeding in Nemertean Worms Evening" last night at the Old Entomologist.

I am aware that there are those among you who are not happy with this onward march of progress, and would stand athwart history, crying "Stop!" This is not advisable due to the narrowness of history; Greenish Hugh slipped off when he was trying it and was all "Ow! My balls!" Anyway, agitate as you will, the Riddled Research Laboratory will not bring back the original Firkin model of Dream Machine, which condensed the psychic detritus into wine.**

For the sake of older customers, set in their ways, we will continue to support the previous model, with the hot tub and the angel wings and the penguin mask for anonymity.

Left: Monochrome setting

Right: Full-colour dreams are more expensive

* All pictures of the Riddled Dream Machine were produced using the Riddled Dream Machine. The management offer no warranty.

** I'm not sure what tigris wanted the wine cask for.

A joke's a joke, but what does that make me?

I'm a bit tired of people using historical photos as fodder in their so called "comedy". Here was a day when Smut and I, noticing a bird on the roof of Riddled HQ, wanted to see if it was a banded Coot . This would be a valuable observation and of interest to twitchers everywhere.
Thus we borrowed the House 'o Fun Krazy ladder and I sallied fourth, fifth and sixth up to see what it was. Now, notice what the "comedians" have done. The banded coot is saying "cuckoo' and I am saying "It's a penguin!" They seem to think that Smut is trying to pronounce house! Is this the edgy humour that we hear about on our lawns?
Also Riddled HQ is taller than that.

Ripped from the pages of Histry, and that.

In the past many (well one) reader has asked about the Riddled Bookstore. Whilst memories of it still bring me awake, screaming I will attempt to outline this glorious chapter in the fecking book of some bollocks thing.

It began, as these things usually do, with a supernatural tree appearing in the Riddled Outdoor Dining and Kabuki Area, with a mysterious message entwined in it's branches.

"Start a bookshop!" it said "Don't make me manifest myself again!" Smut tried to enquire of the tree if it was a Ghastly visitor from the eldritch dimensions and it threw branches at him so we thought we should do what it said.

 

The Riddled staff were helpful. Smut and Greenish Hugh gathered up all of my bound copies of Miss Busty 1978-1998 and put them on sale. I shall never see their like again, I fear.

Staffing was a problem as we did not want to overload the already busy Riddled staff. We interviewed a chimpanzee and an Apricot Macaque, but the combination of apes and books just did not feel right. It may be a sight best Unseen, he said knowingly.

 

Also the fit-out of the bookshop did not go well. We purchased the floor from an online kitchen design emporium and, well, it did not download quite as we expected. Several of the staff complained of nausea just walking on it but this may have been due to the opening of the 2011 Naujolais, a wine described by Smut as "unsettling".

Of course the packing room was where the real action was as everyone got work for their relatives. My cunning plan of training dogs to run the place hit a few operational snags. Surgical operations in two cases.
But see Evangeline van Holsterin's idiot boyfriend and his cretin friends trying to pack rectangles into barrels. Square pegs, those guys!

Unsurprisingly, the library pixies were not very helpful. Here they are playing "Elephant, Elephant Whose Got Your Trunk" or some other game involving being naked and blindfolded. Or maybe it's a normal tea break for them. Note the lawyer in close attendance.

 But it's a funny old game, the book game and we are expecting great things from the Riddled Staff book of photo essays entitled "How Does This Fecking Camera Work?", Hooder and Stovedin 2012, 668 pages, many with words on them.

I counted two and seventy stenches, All well defined, and several stinks!

Good news for parfumiers. Bad luck for honest law-abiding bloggers whose pop-culture jokes are stolen before they even make them.

Service at the Old Entomologist

Much faster after we noticed the architect's blunder and turned the bar through 90°.

SMUTDATED with bonus playing-field irregularity inspired by AK's comment.

Background: The New Zealand Rugby Union is accused of favouritism toward the Otago Rugby team -- disadvantaging other teams -- after the Otago team managed to lose a few $million in the middle of the World Cup rugby boom and went tits-up into receivership.

At Riddled we do not rate for the literal use of figures of speech, for throwing-under-bus-related activities are traumatic for the drivers and lead to delays on the #1 route when some of us might be trying to get home from the pub.