Root Veg Serf. Hir Oes i'n Llyw Annwyl!
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rootvegserf.bsky.social
Root Veg Serf. Hir Oes i'n Llyw Annwyl!
@rootvegserf.bsky.social
520 followers 150 following 4.6K posts
Loyal serf of & Catchfart to the Bretwalda of #Wülferhampton. Grower & retailer of the best-ish root vegetables in Mercia. Owner of Þe Newe Crawlinge Bastarde. BUY GRANNY R'S TURNIP GIN (57 varieties)
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Thanks, but you may want to unfollow. This is a very, very strange a/c. Summary below.

Or maybe not.
Won't be needed. Me, Minky and some of the older happy, smiling orphans are perfectly capable of carrying a large object to the latrine pit. With a few of the Brendas following behind to remove any blood-spots on the grass.
I've not seen this 'advert' to which they refer, but it sounds as if someone called Johnlewiserf has moved to Wülferhampton and is trying to muscle in on my rootveg trading monopoly. This will not end well*

* for Johnlewiserf
I shall peel away, Holeinoneness.

Just bought a 5kg sack of local Tatws (Melody variety). Decent crop this year, so a reasonable price. Couple of years back it was so wet he lost the first two harvests, and price was crazy. We had 60 sacks in t'siop 2 weeks ago, all gone now. A glorious sight. #PRA
Interesting fact. When we say 'corn' most people in t' 21st century usually actually mean 'maize', but have been influenced by the Yanquis bastardised language.

'Corn' in Mercia & other semi-civilised lands would normally mean wheat

Across Offa's Folly they call in 'India corn' (pron. Inja corn)
Different regions have different meanings. Just as 'pal' has a very different meaning in a Glasgow pub & the Cotswolds

Yarp means 'yes' in Norridge, it's to grumble in Scots, in Lincolnshire it's a young duck, Cumbria it's a gadget for repairing fishing nets, & in Rutland it's to steer a boat left
3. When Danes are sighted, light the oil-filled trench (see earlier bleet)
4. bottom kernels pop first, causing cob to exit tube at high speed like a mortar bomb.
5. Cobs can be dipped in Latrine pit juice for a more lethal effect
Picky. Okay, let's think about corn on the cob.

1. Build wall from lots of empty Vega-Cola tins with the tops removed, tins angled slightly outwards.
2. Place a dried corncob (leaves removed) in each tin
But doing this is impractical for most real life things.

How about

a) differentiate between sites that matter and sites that don't? Reuse same junk pw for the unimportant sites
b) Use a password manager with a VERY strong master password?
It's not a bad approach, but how do you handle the "must include upper and lower case, a number and a special character" rules?

I tend to have a pattern that I follow of how to modify the basic 3 words. Also using different language(s) for the 3 words!

1825chevaLdiolCHhobbiT*
Pasture the Wülferhampton flock of cows on top of the wall, get them to jump up and down a lot in fear of the Danes, then milk* them straight onto the popcorn

* which should be butter by this time.
Might not be across the road, just between posts along the side
Practical solution: have a team out tomorrow removing all the tatty flag-shagger crap, then use it as kindling for the genuinely traditional and patriotic bonfire on Wednesday. Who could object to that?
We need to treat the Refuckers the same way we treat the Asian Hornets
Obviously I haven't worked out all the details, I'm more a blue-sky, ball-park thinker, but we have plenty of sugar beet in the fields, so we could grate that on one side of the wall, and use the salt tears of the dead Danes' weeping women and children on the other side?
Travellators? (Horrible word) like what they have at airports?

Or you could rig up one of those hanging bar ski-lift things that runs on a track through every room. Just reach up and hang on as a strap passes.
I'm starting to sympathise Lord, late middle age can be a pain. It's when I get up from a chair or the bed they twinge. Wearing knee supports works very well, but you can't wear them 24/7.

Have just ordered one of these cunning 1-person electric bi-carts. Be interesting to see how that goes.
But sadly, I suspect, as practicable of one of Baldrick's cunning plans.
It's a cunning ploy, Lord. You build a handy low wall of corn about a foot high, no serious inconvenience to anyone, but when invaders draw nigh you torch the oil filled ditch next to it and bingo, a twenty foot high wall of popcorn. And if you're lucky the popping corn might take the Danes' eye out
That's it! I knew oats came into it. A very gallant cereal.
Prices are astronomical these days. Cod chips and MPs was about 12 quid last time I went. What happened to the days of popping out for six of chips in newspaper?

There was a new artisan pizza joint open in north a few months ago. Seriously nice but about £15 a pop.
Verdamt autocorrupt. I of course meant gloats.