Posted on 11/26/2024 11:19:27 AM PST by Red Badger
No matter what students bring to future "show and tells" at Orchard Junior School in the Southampton area of England, they will never be able to top this year's spectacle that shut down and evacuated the school.
One bonkers little tyke brought in a bit of vintage "unexploded ordinance" to show his mates.
The school quickly evacuated all the students, called the police, and texted the parents:
Schools are being closed & evacuated - please collect your child from Noadswood field ASAP.
Imagine getting that little note in the middle of the school day.
Laura Holloway, a mother of one of the students was at work at the time. She said,
It was so worrying. Another parent had called saying there were police everywhere. I knew my youngest would have been so scared.
But, she added:
Both schools seemed to deal with it all very well and had the kids lined up and checked off - it must have been very upsetting for everyone involved.
Once the students were out, the police showed up and sent in the bomb squad.
The police's full statement said: ‘We were called at about 1.30pm to a report that a child had brought what may have been a potentially unexploded ordnance to Orchard Junior School.
‘The school was calmly evacuated and a disposal team attended to take the item away to be destroyed as a precaution.'
Not an easy task by any means.
The real question everyone wants to know is "What kind of ‘historic incendiary device' are we talking about here?"
This is England after all. They've been blowing stuff up and getting blown up for centuries.
It could've been anything from a 16th-century mortar to a WWII hand grenade to that morning's beans on toast.
Good morning. I hope you’re accomplishing all the things!
Working on those as we speak!
Even the photos I got in text messages were welcome and cheerful. I mean, who can resist smiles?
It’s a great start to my day!
Got in VERY late from picking up the new puppy.... VERY late...
Good thing this Wordle wasn’t too tricky... tricky enough though...
Wordle 1,277 4/6*
⬛⬛⬛⬛🟩
🟩⬛⬛⬛🟩
🟩⬛🟩⬛🟩
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩
I prolly missed some weekend chatter. What kind of puppy?
By the time I took the trash out, I was too tired to start on the filing. *sigh* There is always tomorrow.
I won’t be making brownies for my FS, but I may make brownies for may Favorite Self!
What a good idea that is!!
Snowball Fight
Deep in the vast, ice-covered darkness of the South Pole dwells a creature as twisted and cold as his icy heart. His flesh eating snowmen wait with icicle fangs dripping in anticipation for the foolhardy human to wander close. A human thigh from KFH… Mmmmm!
Hunger often draws them to fortify themselves with a mixture of desiccated meatloaf and sour eggnog before heading for their snowmotrikes on a Search and Destroy mission for any careless food-thingy to be caught in the open darkness.
As Anti Claus ponders the plight of his starving minions, he tweaks his frozen beard as he decides to arm his Abominitious Slavering Snowmen, or A.S.S.es, and head NORTH to the Tundra! He arms them with the mummified remains of fruitcake which has been re-formed into armor plating and blackjack staves, and yes, even mortar rounds.
Meanwhile, at the North Pole, Kringle has his hands full with preparation for his Long Ride. He’d been hearing rumors of his bottomless evil Doppelganger, Anti Claus, sitting at the bottom of the world. He didn’t really believe them, but still, there was Mrs. Kringle to consider.
Suddenly, Rudolph bounded into the large gingerbread barn and nudged Kringle towards North Pole HQ. It was only then that he understood the noises at the edges of his hearing ~~ the screams, the tinkling of ice shattering, the sloppy slavering and the grunts and groans ~~ it could mean only one thing: The Abominitious Slavering Snowmen and Anti Claus were HERE! NOW!
Suddenly, all became silent and still. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
A shadow loomed in the lantern light. A melodious voice breathed, “Kringle! I’ve come to share the Holiday Spirits with you and Mrs. Kringle. Won’t you join me in my snowmotrike?”
Kringle was mesmerized by the silken voice, even though he kept seeing red alarms flashing a warning at him. He was unable to move as he watched in horror while his elves began to crumble into kibble under the onslaught of the A.S.S.es.
Using Uber-Santa strength, Kringle, realizing he was lying in a quickly-freezing puddle on the icy floor, and that his minutes were numbered, tried to rouse himself. But he was comfy, and the noise had receded as he drowsed… suddenly, he heard stamping and clawing of lots of tiny hooves, and he knew he must get up to fight.
Abruptly, he was jolted into awareness by a red-hot poker in his ribs, accompanied by snorts, grunts and other bodily emissions. Opening his eyes, he saw Rudolph, jabbing his nose into Kringle’s side, trying to get him up and fighting.
Elf crumbs and icicle pieces were scattered across the floor as Kringle grabbed Rudy around the neck and told him to back up and pull Kringle to his feet. Once upright, he clutched madly at Rudy, putting him in a choke hold under his arm like a rifle.
Together, they leapt over the bales of hay in the gingerbread barn, with Kringle bellowing reindeer obscenities at the snowy, shuffling ice heaps that had so decimated his forces.
With a tight-fisted squeeze, Kringle put his finger to the side of Rudy’s nose and a glaring red laser beam lanced through the closest icicle-toothed horror that growled for flesh, even as it melted.
Moaning and growling, gargling and snuffling, the A.S.S.es lurched and slid towards Kringle and his wriggling weapon. “Let go of me, you ham-handed fr-EEEK!!!” Rudy lased down and slagged several more death-fanged grotesqueries as they rounded the corner, elf bits and crumbs being wielded as clubs.
Rudy and Kringle kept up a brutal barrage and finally made their ways to the North Pole HQ building, leaving a wake of corn cob pipes, button noses, elf crumbs and wriggling puddles of fruitloaf and meatnog throbbing their lives out in front of God and everybody.
Kringle used Rudy as a battering ram and burst through the front door. Mrs. Kringle was on the floor clutching her downy comforter tightly to her chest and chuckling nervously, “He’s not here; he left.”
Kringle merely elbowed the door hard and squished Anti Claus behind it, where he dropped his suit and grabbed his nose.
Upon seeing the insanely glowing nose of the much-abused Rudolph, Anti Claus bailed through the window, somehow getting his boots and most of his other accoutrements back on as he fell. Jumping on his flying snowmotrike, he blatted off into the night, trailing his icy hordes behind him in defeat.
Mrs. Kringle waved her handkerchief goodbye and sniffled. “Don’t forget to write,” she whispered.
“What was that?!” Kringle demanded.
“Nothing, Dear. Oh, look! He left part of his suit,” she smiled, fondling the scratchy, matted fake fur.
It was only in later years, as her icy grandchildren were once again gathered ‘round her knees to hear of “The Battle of the A.S.S.es” or “How Anti Claus Lost His Suit,” which seemed to get longer and better in the telling. It was revealed that she had been ransacked that night, and though it was difficult to relate, causing her to growl like a cougar at inappropriate places, she managed to get through it with a smile and a few tears.
And every year on the anniversary, another suit would turn up. That first year, it was Rudolph’s turn to sue - for encroachment upon his dignity. But he won that suit by a nose.
He is the new Papillon pup... his name is Arthur...
Refer FS to Dr. Ken Berry.
https://youtube.com/@kendberrymd?si=1TyP84TO_ufbSBhu
It’s relatively easy to eradicate sugar from your dietary stream, which kicks your metabolism off of its sugar dependency, and forces you into ketosis, instead. This is a more stable, healthy metabolic state that eliminates sugar control issues.
Some people accomplish it going full carnivore, others get into a “keto” diet. By hook or by crook, just do it, though; blood sugar maintenance is nothing to goof around with.
IANAD, nor do I play one on TV, so don’t take my word for it, check out Dr. Berry and go from there.
Oh, I’m all for the Keto diets and the full carnivore, but FS is married to the Perfect Wife and there is no way she would ever allow him to listen to his mother, who is (perish the thought) full of common sense. Because “she’s really smart, Mom,” and that means that Mom is suddenly a useless appendage, much like an appendix.
So he’s not going to listen to a word I say. If he had listened to me in the first place, he would not have become a diabetic for at least several years later than he did, but...
There is a long and bitter story behind this all, but suffice to say, all I can do, at this point in my long life, is watch from the sidelines and keep a string of prayers going up for all involved, no matter how I feel personally about the whole deal.
Thanks for the site, though. I’m so hypoglycemic, diabetes (and high cholesterol) are the least of my worries.
Are you sure Calvin didn’t rip his snow goons off from this story?
Interesting!
Thanks! And did you know that the heart also has an appendix? I need to learn more about it, but it seems some blood clots go there instead of out into the bloodstream where they can create chaos.
Series!
Hahaha! Good one!
Pretty sure.
Special Delivery, it’s a Beumb! - Pink Panther (Peter Sellers)
https://youtu.be/GLDvtpSC_98?si=BUL-C4810Y8xnPYT
Awesome.
Did anyone ever say what this “historic unexploded ordinance” actually was?
A classic tale ...
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