Love, The Airport

Love, The Airport

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Love, The Airport
Love, The Airport
I Stand On One Leg and Think of Father.

I Stand On One Leg and Think of Father.

Concerning demanding cats, anachronistic heroes, a puzzling telegram, the gaff of the mainsail, and a pointy stick.

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John Finnemore
Jan 31, 2025
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Love, The Airport
Love, The Airport
I Stand On One Leg and Think of Father.
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I see this advert on the train a lot at the moment

It always gives me a tiny little panic response when I first see it.

“What?! Why me? I mean… look, I’m sorry, you’ll have to tell them I just CAN’T! I’ve got commitments! They should have said something earlier!”

I messaged my friend Margaret about it, because I know that, as she says in a footnote here, she has the same sort of weirdly arrogant universal guilt complex I have, and would feel my pain. Yes, she replied “especially the way it’s come to the window to say it.”

Oh God! I hadn’t even considered that it was the cat talking! A spokes-cat for the hundreds of vulnerable cats, all of whom are lined up just out of shot, patiently waiting for me to sort them out! Thanks, Margaret. Thanks for nothing.

News and Adverts

None of either. It’s a free period. You can get on with your homework, or read your book quietly.

Commentary Box, on:

Them's the jockies for me!

Them's the jockies for me!

John Finnemore
·
Jan 24
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Re: Gilgamesh…

To bring Thrifty Squadron up to speed: last time in Spendy Section I wrote a silly thing about an ancient statue of the mythic hero Gilgamesh that makes it look like he and his stuffed lion have had a nasty dream and would like to sleep in Mummy’s bed tonight please.

A photoshop making the statue of Gilgamesh clutching a lion stand in an open bedroom doorway.

What I cannot believe I didn’t notice, but fortunately many of m’learned commentators did, is… this:

A close up of the statue's wrist, on which he is wearing a bangle that looks very much like a watch. Once again, Visually Impaired Squadron, it falls a bit flat if you have to spell it out. Sorry.

Several theories have arisen as to what is going on here. Naturally, some people think it’s a watch, but as something of an amateur historian, I happen to know that Gilgamesh actually predated the wrist-watch by several decades. So, I incline instead to Jess to Impress’ theory:

Gilgamesh's heroic success was no doubt in part thanks to him maintaining his daily 10,000 step count

You Stole The Wall

Last time I put a puzzle up here, I explained that, because I’m not as imaginative as those Willa Wonkas of puzzle-making over at the New York Times, I was simply going to rip off the Connecting Wall concept from the TV show Only Connect.

Well, word of this theft has clearly filtered back to Cardiff, because today I received a furious telegram. This is a little surprising, because the Post Office discontinued the telegram service in 1982, but there we are.

A telegram, with bits of text on sections of tape. In this alt text, a slash indicates a new piece of tape. The text reads: Dear John. / Dirty old egg-sucking dog. / I'm livid. / How dare you / mimic / the wall. / Do you want total war? / We will bury you. / One piece at a time. / Blood. / Hurt. / Dead./ Tear down this wall. / Love. / Vic C-M / XXX

Well, what do you think? How can I resolve this?

As always, the first solver should just put the answer without further explanation, and the second solver should explain it, thus giving us a first and second place… which will henceforth be recorded on the new Love, The Airport insanely glamorous and high-tech Leaderboard, which I can now unveil:

A blackboard, reading: LEADERBOARD. 31st January 2025. 5 points for first place, 3 for second. 2 for an assist / with assistance. HBB - 11. Deane Short - 5. Andrew - 5. Harry - 2. v.edgy - 2.
Ta-da.

Just imagine the thrill of seeing your name immortalised in digital chalk, chasing down HBB for the top spot…

(Oh, and a little hint, because I dislike meaningless red herrings: that ‘174 6.9’ at the top came with the original image I doctored, and has no role in the puzzle. Ditto everything else except the words of the message.)

And now, we kiss goodbye to Thrifty Squadron, as Spendy Squadron and I slide down the magic chute to see some pictures I drew on a train, and an excerpt from the never-made TV pilot for Cabin Pressure, in which Martin debuts his pointing stick.

Love,

The Airport

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