Monday, 23 May 2011

Flask A Question...

"If only there were a way to pour one's tea without taking the lid off..."

Such are the preoccupations of a Ragged Rambler. Well, here we offer you a small excerpt of a typical exchange between an advocate of the 'open lid approach', and a 'twist and pour' proponent:

Please do share any views you hold about this contentious issue with us here...

Reliable sources have just wired us this photographic evidence that the 'twist and pour' approach is prodigiously hazardous:

We invite you to click on the image in order to enlarge it.
Be reassured that this photograph is an entirely realistic
depiction of a reckless pour show!


  1. Yes, but I note that the proponent of 'twist and pour' proceeded to blow on his tea as it was too hot. Surely it makes sense to give one's tea air and let it cool a little. Back in the day, when I was alive, an open lid approach did us no harm at. I am sick and tired of the youth of this country with their weedy gadgets. We will all be weaklings at the end of it all. Cedric warned me it would be so, but I wouldn't listen!

  2. I have just about recovered from a mouthful of scalding green tea that I swigged straight from a recently poured cup from a Thermos, so I reckon... no, you don't want my opinion.

  3. cuppa poured slow is a cuppa tedious

  4. Dangerous deviants advocate the Twist & Pour technique. It is corrosive of all that is good and true; it will rend asunder the bonds that tie us together in mutually beneficial inequality. I weep for our nation!

  5. why not help the economy, find a nice tearoom nearby and let them pour at the rate they have found too please the customer. It may cost a tad more than a flask but hey-ho at least it will be served in a nice china cup...... it's coffee for me on my trip to Orkney hope your all fighting fit best wishes from Las Ramblas

  6. Oh, I misread last night thinking you said do not share! So, this morning your new photo shows the ultimate hazard of twist 'n' pour - fatal inaccuracy. The least that happens is that you get tea running down the side of the flask.

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  8. You weak foolish knaves. The infusion of which you speak should not be poured at all, but quaffed quickly from the flask. Thus the scolding liquor will purify the tongue of even the most noisome of women or poor man of little credyt who liveth by his labours.

    Israel Gedge - Puritan and Proud

  9. Many Coats said...

    I refer you to my earlier comment on the last post.... For what of lumpy soup? Imagine the scene - a winter Ramble and her icy hands are reaching inside you. Her long frosty fingers tickling your spleen and other innards. You go to pour a nice cup of leek and potato soup but it gets stuck in the only half open lid. The inhumanity of it all...

    +Many Coats+

  10. I say, that gentleman pouring tea down his leg has the most piercing of stares... I didn't get a wink of sleep last night, having looked at that picture... the eyes!

  11. I fear he has the wild look of a man oft times scolded. Or perhaps a man who has spent time alone on that terrible place designated only as 'Place 29'.

  12. Referring to Anonymous' comment on the staring eyes of the unfortunate Rambler mis-flasking, or "copping a Waddington", the poor fellow is clearly suffering from Graveyard Fever.
    This has been seen on longer Rambles, especially towards the end of a day, when the excitements and high dramas, not to mention the inevitable disappointments (locked doors, unsettling encounters with the indigenous population) have taken their toll on a chap. All that's needed is, say, the stimuli of unexpected discoveries of remarkably antique headstones or the sudden revelation of hitherto unnoticed quoin work, shared too quickly amongst a hearty company, and the downward spiral takes hold.
    One can see the symptoms rampaging; de-tweeded, the afore mentioned eyes, an almost continental demeanour setting in. One can only hope his fellows were experienced enough to recognise the portents and provide the care required.
    As to the question of flask handling, the Attorney-General's Office have been in touch with a Freedom-Of-Information request (with which I am afraid, the Society has no choice but to comply) after allegations of a general anti Twist-&-Pour bias to the whole affair.
    Veritas praevalebit, gentlemen.
    The Secretary

  13. My Dear Contributions Secretary.

    As a seasoned Rambler of many years standing I can say with the upmost confidence that you have most ably summed up the heady excitement that is often associated with a Ragged Ramble. I am however most concerned over the "allegations of a general anti twist-&-pour bias" because I for one think that whether you favour the 'twist @ pour' method or the more traditional 'taking the lid completely off' approach, surely it is the enjoyment of the wondrous brew within that counts?

    I sincerely believe that we should put our petty differences behind us lest we become like the unreasonable Lilliputians whom I met on my journey to Placemark 29 all those many years ago. We should I think put the whole affair down to spirited high jinks among the younger members of our Learned Society and also to the arrogance often associated with Iphone users like my good self. An arrogance that stems from the fact that our phones are better than everyone else's.

    Humbly Yours,
    Dr Lemuel Gulliver

  14. Hey Dr Gulliver. I really dig you man!

  15. Dear Dr Gulliver

    I would just like to say how much I enjoyed reading about your travels when I was a small child. I should say that I spent many a happy hour imaging your many Rambles with the Lilliputians and their neighbours the Blefuscudians. Albeit in secret beneath my bedclothes, for Mother was not a fan of books or reading for that matter. We only had two books in the house when I was growing up. There was MARTYRS TO THE CATHOLIC FAITH: MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS, AND OTHER CATHOLICS OF BOTH SEXES THAT HAVE SUFFERED DEATH IN ENGLAND ON RELIGIOUS ACCOUNTS FROM THE YEAR 1577, TO 1684, by Bishop. Calloner, from which Mother read to us every night. Also Betty Crocker's MICROWAVE COOKBOOK, which was strange as we didn't have a microwave oven.

    Your travels though Dr Gulliver set me imagining what it would be like to escape to new worlds. Would I too meet little people who argued over which was the correct end to open a boiled egg? Father always liked to open his at the pointy end, but Mother said he was a fool and that he should open it at the other. But later she said it didn't matter, for after the terrible experience of giving birth to me, she would never let Father near her eggs ever again.

    More tea Dr Gulliver?