Here’s a quickie for you: a late Victorian era guide on how to whup the crap out of someone using a walking stick, cane or umbrella.  Very martial arts-y for the time.

Part 1 and Part 2

I for one dig the illustrations.

*tap-tap*

Hello?  Is this thing on?  Can you hear me out there?

Good.  Now shut the fuck up.

Well, my little forced hiatus is over.  Due to technical and human interaction issues (which I shall not bother to go into because I’ve had a hell of a cheap ride for the last few years and therefore have very little to bitch about) the site was down and all but the SQL data was recoverable at the time of the downage.  Since the blog and all other dynamic content is stored that way it seemed a bit foolish to restore anything without it.

But…

Now that that all the data is in attendance and accounted for, I would seem to be back in business.  This is all courtesy of Mensa and his diligent efforts not only to reacquire his and my critical information, but also to give me a new digital home and to sort out the mechanics of getting everything to work properly at said home.  Bravo.  Now go fetch me some lemonade.

*ducks*

On the prior note, If anyone finds anything out of sorts, please let me know so’s I can remedy that ASAP.

Like Mensa pointed out on his site, I didn’t realize that I had so much to say until the means to say it went away.  But of course, the time to say some things has passed and therefore they shall fade into memory, that is until a particular bone gets stuck in my throat again and then I shall set loose the Dogs Of Whining… er, War.  Yeah, that’s what I meant.

C’est la vie.  The wheels of life continue to turn until such time as one goes flat.  Then the man of life must get out and change it while the woman of life bitches that he’s taking too long.  It is as it has always been.