[Misc] Summer solstice

[B-right-on]

Happy summer solstice.

Summer solstice 2022 in the Northern Hemisphere was at 10:13pm on
Tuesday, 21 June.

I hope you enjoyed your 16 hours and 43 minutes of daylight. Took my dog for a walk at 10pm and always surprised how light it is.

 

[Harry Wilson's tackle]

Does this mean....winter is coming?

 

[Easy 10]

Just saw the beardy-weirdys on the local news all gathered at Stonehenge, mincing around in a field festooned with facepaint, tambourines and humus, pretending to be druids.

All harmless enough. But I would literally rather shit out a pineapple than spend an entire night waiting for sunrise with that lot.

 

[clapham_gull]

Just saw the beardy-weirdys on the local news all gathered at Stonehenge, mincing around in a field festooned with facepaint, tambourines and humus, pretending to be druids.

All harmless enough. But I would literally rather shit out a pineapple than spend an entire night waiting for sunrise with that lot.

If you did attend and shit out a pineapple I'd imagine the organisers could sell tickets and possibly BBC3 would pick it up as live event.

Just an idea.

 

[Easy 10]

If you did attend and shit out a pineapple I'd imagine the organisers could sell tickets and possibly BBC3 would pick it up as live event.

Just an idea.

I'm saving it for Glasto. West Holts stage, Sunday around 4pm if you're interested.

 

[clapham_gull]

I'm saving it for Glasto. West Holts stage, Sunday around 4pm if you're interested.

That's a difficult crowd playing in sunlight, very few pull it off.

Queen did famously at Live Aid, but for every Queen there is a Sade who performed something absolutely obscene that day but everyone missed it.

 

[Petunia]

Downhill to summer

 

[Bry Nylon]

Just saw the beardy-weirdys on the local news all gathered at Stonehenge, mincing around in a field festooned with facepaint, tambourines and humus, pretending to be druids.

All harmless enough. But I would literally rather shit out a pineapple than spend an entire night waiting for sunrise with that lot.

Every Summer Solstice I watch the sun rise whilst wearing a extremely snug monk costume. It's a habit I struggle to get out of.

 

[Durlston]

Does this mean....winter is coming?

A long hot steamy summer on its way followed by a walk through the park in October with all different coloured leaves on a beautiful autumnal early morning.

Ah......... Four glorious months of that ahead hopefully.

 

[AmexRuislip]

Every Summer Solstice I watch the sun rise whilst wearing a extremely snug monk costume. It's a habit I struggle to get out of.

Surely there's a point of order here, that you can do better than that Brother Bry Nylon

 

[AmexRuislip]

If you did attend and shit out a pineapple I'd imagine the organisers could sell tickets and possibly BBC3 would pick it up as live event.

Just an idea.

You could've given it a name, like the Fruit Dump Festival

 

[hart's shirt]

Every Summer Solstice I watch the sun rise whilst wearing a extremely snug monk costume. It's a habit I struggle to get out of.

I always fancied the idea of becoming a Gregorian monk, but I never got the chants.

 

[schmunk]

There was a little boy who lived in a far away land. Close to the boy's home, there was a tall mountain, always covered in snow at the top. Also at the top of the mountain, there was an ancient monastery where ancient monks lived.

Sometimes, the little boy, as he was riding his tricycle around his yard, would look up at the monastery on the tall mountain and wonder what it was like up there.

One day, when the wind was blowing down off the mountain, the air turned quite cold and the little boy could hear a very strange noise on the wind. It was coming from the monastery! He could not figure out what could possibly be making such a strange noise and he was curious.

So, the little boy made a peanut butter sandwich, hopped on his tricycle and started his ride up to the monastery. It took him hours and hours, but he finally made it to the top. He bravely pounded on the massive door to the monastery and the head monk opened the door.

"Hello, Mr. Monk, sir. Down at my home in the valley below, I heard a very strange noise coming from your monastery. Could you tell me what it is?"

"I'm sorry," replied the head monk, "I can't tell you. You aren't a monk."

Sadly, the little boy got back on his tricycle and rode all the way home, in a very foul and frustrated mood. He really did want to know what was making that noise.

The wind did not blow down off the mountain again until a couple years later. The boy was a bit bigger and stronger now and now rode around town on his bicycle.

As luck would have it, he was out riding when the wind blew down off the mountain, the air turned quite cold, and he heard a very strange noise on the wind. It was coming from the monastery! He could not figure out what could possibly be making such a strange noise and he was curious.

So, the bigger boy made a ham and cheese sandwich, hopped on his bicycle and started his ride up to the monastery. It took him hours, but he finally made it to the top. He pounded on the massive door to the monastery and the head monk opened the door.

"Hey, Mr. Monk. Down at my home in the valley below, I heard a very strange noise coming from your monastery. Could you tell me what it is?"

"I'm sorry," replied the head monk, "I can't tell you. You aren't a monk."

Sadly, the big boy got back on his bicycle and rode all the way home, in a very foul and frustrated mood. He really did want to know what was making that noise.

The wind did not blow down off the mountain again until a couple years later. The boy had grown into a strapping youth now and rode around town on his motorcycle.

As luck would have it, he was out riding when the wind blew down off the mountain, the air turned quite cold, and he heard a very strange noise on the wind. It was coming from the monastery! He could not figure out what could possibly be making such a strange noise and he was curious.

So, the strapping youth grabbed a slice of pizza, hopped on his motorcycle and started his ride up to the monastery. It took him 30 minutes, but he finally made it to the top. He pounded on the massive door to the monastery and the head monk opened the door.

"Yo, Mr. Monk, dude. Down at my home in the valley below, I heard a very strange noise coming from your monastery. Could you tell me what it is?"

"I'm sorry," replied the head monk, "I can't tell you. You aren't a monk."

Sadly, the strapping youth got back on his motorcycle and rode all the way home, in a very foul and frustrated mood. He really did want to know what was making that noise.

The wind did not blow down off the mountain again until a couple years later. The boy was now a young man and often rode around in his new convertible sportscar.

As luck would have it, he was out riding when the wind blew down off the mountain, the air turned quite cold, and he heard a very strange noise on the wind. It was coming from the monastery! He could not figure out what could possibly be making such a strange noise and he was curious.

So, the young man bought a burger at a fast food place, got in his convertible sportscar, and started his ride up to the monastery. It took him 20 minutes, but he finally made it to the top. He pounded on the massive door to the monastery and the head monk opened the door.

"Mr. Monk. Down at my home in the valley below, I heard a very strange noise coming from your monastery. Could you tell me what it is?"

"I'm sorry," replied the head monk, "I can't tell you. You aren't a monk."

Sadly, the young man got back in his convertible sportscar and rode all the way home, in a very foul and frustrated mood. He really did want to know what was making that noise.

That night, he thought and thought about the very strange noise and how he just had to know what caused it. So, he resolved to do something about it the next day.

The next day, he got in his convertible sportscar and raced up the mountain, slammed on his brakes, and skidded to a stop right in front of the massive door to the monastery.

He honked the horn of his convertible sportscar until the head monk finally opened the door.

"Alright, Mr. Monk, I want to know what is making that very strange noise coming from you monastery!"

"I'm sorry," replied the head monk, "I can't tell you. You aren't a monk."

"Well, then can I become a monk?"

"Why certainly! It is quite easy. You must travel the earth and count the number of blades of grass in every field and the number of grains of sand on every beach. When you return with your answer, then you shall be a monk."

So the young man left the monastery and travelled the earth. For years and years he counted the blades of grass and grains of sand, until one day he had finally finished. He made his way slowly back to the monastery and found the head monk.

"Oh, Mr. Monk, I have travelled the earth these past years, counting the blades of grass and grains of sand. I finally know that there are 123,123,123,123,123 blades of grass in the fields and 123,123,123,123,123 grains of sand on the beaches and I would like to become a monk."

So the man became a monk. At last, he would now be able to find out the source of that very strange noise coming from the monastery.

"Mr. Monk, what is the noise coming from the monastery?" asked the new monk.

The head monk replied, "The source is too complicated to describe in words. I am afraid that you must see it for yourself to truly understand it. This key will show you the answer you seek."

"Take this key to the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery. There you will find a long corridor. At the end of the corridor is a door and through the door is the thing that makes the noise."

Well, of course the new monk went immediately to the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery and there he did indeed find the long corridor. He walked down the corridor until he could see the door at the end.

Unfortunately, there were three magical fires that never go out blocking the man from the door. He decided to jump the fires to reach the door. The man made sure the key was secure in his hand, took a running charge at the first fire and leapt!

Over the first fire he flew, but he dropped the key. The man leapt back over the fire, ran all the way back down the long corridor, out of the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery and back to the head monk.

"Oh, Mr. Monk! I am so sorry! I went to the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery, down the long corridor to the door, but there were magical fires and I dropped the key in the first one as I leapt over it."

"Do not worry, for there is another key and you must overcome tests on your way to enlightenment. The second key, however is far, far away in Canada."

The new monk left the monastery and travelled to Canada. It took many years because he had no money, being a monk and all.

Eventually, he arrived in Canada and managed to track down the key to the door. The monk then had to make the return journey equally as painstakingly, but finally he arrived back at the monastery. Down into the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery he went, until he found the long corridor.

The three magical fires were in front of him as he took a running start.

Over the first fire went the monk, key still in hand!

Over the second fire went the monk, key still- RATS!
He had dropped the key in the second fire. The monk leapt back over the second fire, back over the first fire, back down the long corridor he walked and out of the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery. The monk went back to the head monk.

"Oh, Mr. Monk! I am so sorry! I went to the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery, down the long corridor to the door, but there were magical fires and I dropped the key in the second one as I leapt over it."

"Do not worry, for there is one more key and we must all overcome tests on our way to enlightenment. The third key, however is far, far away in Australia."

The monk left the monastery and travelled to Australia. It took many years because he had no money being a monk and all.

Eventually he arrived in Australia and managed to track down the key to the door. The monk then had to make the return journey equally as painstakingly, but finally he arrived back at the monastery. By this time, he was quite an old monk.

Down into the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery he went, until he found the long corridor. The three magical fires were in front of him as he took a running start.

Over the first fire went the quite old monk, key still in hand!

Over the second fire went the quite old monk, key still in hand!

Over the THIRD fire went the quite old monk, key still in hand!

He had made it! He'd made the jumps and here he was standing outside the door with the answer to his question. Finally, finally, after so many, many, many years of wanting to know what was making the strange noise, he would know. The answer lay through the door in front of him and he could at last be at peace with himself.

Slowly, the quite old monk slid the key into the lock. Turning the key a slight 'click' was to be heard as the lock moved back allowing the quite old monk to open the door. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Shock and amazement came over him as he finally realized the answer to his question!
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Do you want me to tell you what it was?
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I'm sorry, I can't tell you. You aren't a monk.

 

[Albion my Albion]

Just saw the beardy-weirdys on the local news all gathered at Stonehenge, mincing around in a field festooned with facepaint, tambourines and humus, pretending to be druids.

All harmless enough. But I would literally rather shit out a pineapple than spend an entire night waiting for sunrise with that lot.

What exactly is wrong with that lot?

Might someone say something similar about your lot?