My favorite hangout is the Maudlin Banshee Irish Pub — Featuring the music of the Garrulous Drones Quartet every day from noon to closing. Specialty beers on tap: O’Bleary’s Depleted Uranium Stout, Bogslurry Extra Brutal Stout, and O’Cthulhu’s Squamous Stout. The Guinness is as warm and sluggish as lava; every slice of the soda bread contains a wee pinch of sand and grit; and the bartender hates you on sight with a passion that time will not diminish. Tuesday is Ladies Night.
Yet another reason the internet desperately needs a ‘sarcasm font’. That way the reader knows whether or not some comment is supposed to be sarcastic. I don’t know why I suddenly thought about that bronze crowbar after forty+ years — I guess that’s because it’s the only time I’ve needed/used a crowbar on a regular basis.
I spent a summer, decades ago, working in the oil patch, and there were certain areas at the terminal where we could only use bronze tools — and I specifically recall a bronze crow bar. Bronze tools wouldn’t make sparks, and bits of the ground we worked around were so contaminated after years of use, that a spark from a steel tool could start the ground burning. I was really surprised that, after centuries of iron, there was still a use for bronze tools.
“NO KILL I”