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Love love love the wind turbine sentinels of the Manawatu Gorge. Protecting Woodville from the hordes of Mordor.
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Ground zero for the Psocoptera (Psocidae) infestation in my pantry: dried porcini. Going in the freezer from now on. Psocopterans pseriously psuck.
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Walking home in the dark through Hagley Park the trees shook, the Avon sloshed, and the shelducks wheeped and honked in alarm.
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Ferns are like sexless Barbie/Ken dolls, shedding doll-dandruff that turns into thousands of tiny detached genitals. The scattered genitals seek out each other, have sex, and sprout tiny sexless Barbies. The ferny life cycle is truly odd.
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My moisturiser is supposedly “anti-fatigue”. It says on the label. But I’m puzzled: how exactly is my face getting tired? I can only think it’s some sort of Yiddish invective. “When I look at you, my face gets tired.”
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E.O. Wilson had a Nature-cover paper denying kin selection is a factor in eusociality. Suspect Nature only accepted it because of his rep. He’s been quoted as saying, “I think that’d be a pretty poor scientist, who couldn’t reverse his view from new evidence.” Which is true. At my count Wilson was wrong about island biogeography models, biophilia, & consilience. Looking forward to the retractions.
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Bought my first issue of NZ food mag Dish. The writing is definitely low-calorie and gluten-free. Nuggets of rich advertising embedded in a frothy matrix of sugary photography, artificially-enhanced opinion, and Wikipedia.
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Pre-decimal English currency was so ludicrous it parodied itself: half-crown, guinea, florin, farthing, & tuppence-ha’penny. £2.3s.6½d.
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The West Australian coat of arms features kangaroos holding boomerangs, so I presume it was focus-grouped.
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