Posts Tagged ‘foxer’

The Foxer

Warm-up Foxer (Where am I?)

My left foot is on the number ‘1800’, my right on the number ‘4220’. I can see a white and green tram. I’m on the banks of a river that gave its name to an aircraft manufacturer. I’m due south of a famous prehistoric hill figure. The country I’m in has hosted the Winter Olympics more times than it has hosted the Summer Olympics. This city has something in common with Norwich. I’m a kilometre away from the birthplace of a literary giant and half a kilometre from a warship that starred in a recent movie. I’m a stone’s throw from a bridge named after a duchess. Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

Warm-up Foxer (Where am I?)

I’m at the junction of three roads, all of which are named after rivers. I can see an airship. If I walked north ten paces I’d end up on a railway line. The country I’m in has a female head of government and has qualified for the FIFA World Cup twice. I’m in an oceanic climate zone. Mesopotamia is 100 miles away. The town I’m in has something in common with a Manic Miner level. A famous PC game designer grew up here. Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

Warm-up Foxer (Where am I?)

I’m standing under a rusting railway bridge constructed in 1894. I can see a red octopus. I’m at the same latitude as one of France’s régions d’outre-mer. I’m a stone’s throw from a stadium named after a winner of the world’s oldest annual marathon. The country I’m in has weapons on its flag. The antipode of this spot is in the Indian Ocean. I’m 250m from a railway museum. Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

Warm-up Foxer (Who am I?)

I had something in common with a 10th Century bishop of Winchester, an early George Lucas film, and a type of eagle. I died in the same year as a famous Czech writer. My oldest friend, a freedom-loving female, outlived me. My killer was convicted with the help of digital evidence. I was named after a politician. I never left my country of birth. To view my remains you’ll need to travel to a spot thirteen miles from Geneva. Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

Warm-up Foxer (Who am I?)

I almost died in the year WWI formally ended. I crossed an ocean post-mortem. A shape of a specific colour links me to a Bowie album and an Asian sidearm. I was born in Middlesex. I’ve appeared on postage stamps and coins. I’ve an Irish surname. I once topped the bill at Madison Square Garden. I spent time in prison. I’ve something in common with a man mentioned in this document. I was an entrepreneur and poet but am remembered today primarily for achievements in a different field. Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

Warm-up Foxer (Where am I?)

I’m in a landlocked country that won no medals at the 2016 Summer Olympics. I’m standing at the bottom of a flight of twenty granite steps. If I circled the globe at this latitude I’d pass over four South American and six African countries. I’m 1.5km from a stadium where Gordon Sumner and The Boss have performed. I’m 15km from an international airport. I can see a pair of antelopes and a massive RPG-7. Asians shaped my surroundings. This place is more than 50 times larger than its name suggests. Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

Warm-up Foxer (Where am I?)

I’m 30km due north of a whaling station. I can see an orangutan and a chimp. I’m 5km from an international border. The name of this road includes the local word for ‘bridge’. I’m in a country that has a lyricless national anthem. The Romans processed fish at a site 1km from here. I’m at the same latitude as the capital of a Middle Eastern proto-state. The speed limit on this section of road is 30kph. There’s a strong smell of oil and oil byproducts in this vicinity. Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

Warm-up Foxer (Where am I?)

I’m 200 metres from a sizeable mushroom farm. I can see a railway locomotive numbered 8789. The street I’m on shares a name with a Tintin character, a Viceroy of India, and an Antipodean art prize. I’m at the same latitude as a city featured in Battlefield 1. I’m 1.5km from a footloose fort named after a British Overseas Territory. I’m in a country that won’t be playing in the 2018 FIFA World Cup. I’m standing next to a grain elevator that no longer exists. Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

Warm-up foxer (What am I?)

I’m not nearly as naval as I sound. One of my first victims was a swift dog. I’ve a tenuous connection with bees. I was invented by a man born in Northern Ireland. I probably inspired a WW2 rodent. I could fit inside a shoe box. In my earliest form I was manufactured close to a river named after a British king. I have something in common with SR-71s, the seventh Tintin book, and Ireland’s favourite alcoholic drink. I was first used in the 19th Century. Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

Warm-up foxer (What am I?)

I was born in Somerset during the reign of Queen Victoria. I’m mentioned in a Beatles song. I did my bit during WW1 and WW2. I’ve starred in several films. I was invented by a Geordie. I play an important role in the summer Olympics. I’m in the Guinness Book of Records. In my original form I had something in common with gunpowder and Nivea skin cream. Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

Warm-up Foxer (What am I?)

I’m about the size of a playing card. I was created in the first half of the Nineteenth Century. I have something in common with The Venus of Brassempouy. I was given to a politician famed for his oratory. I’m currently in North America. My creator shared a first name with a notable Gallic thespian, a Doctor Who sidekick, and one of Winnie’s children. I sound like the strapline in a cosmetics ad. I’m possibly NSFW. Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer


Warm-up foxer (Where am I?)

The city I’m in was occupied by the Germans during WW2. In front of me is a large rusty anchor. Behind me is a BMW dealership. I’m a stone’s throw from a structure that shares its name with a 21st Century cartoon character, an area of Baghdad, and an artllery piece. I’m due north of an island Napoleon knew well. I’m in a country with a female PM and a male monarch. I’m 1.7 km from a cathedral and 5.5 km from a tram museum. Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

The discovery of the analeptic power of rainbows is usually credited to Flight Lieutenant Peter Geidmentis of the RAF. In July 1943 his Spitfire Mk XII was badly damaged by flak over NW France. Too low to bail out, the DFC & bar winner was scouring the countryside for a suitable spot for a wheels-up landing when his ravaged machine passed through the arch of a particularly vivid rainbow. “The effect was immediate.” says Geidmentis in his 1968 autobiography, The Desecrators. “My Griffon engine awoke with a start. I found I had full aileron control again. When I glanced at my mangled port wing, my heart skipped several beats. The ragged holes had disappeared. Where they’d been, droplets of a mercury-like liquid scuttled about like scared scarabs. Tugged at by the slipstream, the last of these miraculous beetles lost its grip as I turned onto finals at Tangmere.” Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

Bramley End hasn’t been the same since Henrietta Howe, the world-famous amateur sleuth, moved into Hollyhocks. Everyone is on tenterhooks waiting for the first murder. ‘Henry’ was driven out of her last village, Cyrille Regis in Wiltshire, after the 11th slaying. Her previous neighbours, the long-suffering residents of Shithot St. Bernard, Somerset, put up with 37 before kicking her out.

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The Foxer

Trevor almost got himself shot on Sunday. Me, Roman, and Maxine were in the Green Man enjoying preprandial pints, when Henry Lord came in ranting about a “devil’s daffodilly” that had been panicking his ewes in Bottom Acre. As we’re the only triffid owners in the neighbourhood we guessed it was probably Trevor, and, sure enough, it was. We eventually found the runaway in one of the old mushroom sheds on the Chipstable road, and after lots of fun and games got him in the horsebox and back home. It turns out the cunning bugger had escaped by rolling a fascine of fencing stakes into the ha-ha. It will break Helen’s heart but I think we’re going to have to tether him overnight from now on. Read the rest of this entry »

The Flare Path: A Fanfare of Foxers

Like a sentry on a bitter night or the Isle of Man in a strong sou’westerly, Flare Path’s birthday has a tendency to move about. Last year the champagne corks ricocheted and the streamers tangled on August 12. This year the big day is September 1. Today Rock, Paper, Shotgun’s most Panzeriferous and Spitfiery column becomes a hexager. Celebrations will take the usual form – a litter of wet-nosed, bushy-tailed, berry-eyed foxers all far more approachable and, potentially, much more rewarding, than the standard co-op type. (COMPETITIONS NOW CLOSED) Read the rest of this entry »

The Foxer

“The thing about cloud sculpting is you’ve got to work quickly. I generally use a Vector K280 quadcopter fitted with 8” whiskers and 10” trails. The K280 can dart like a kingfisher and generates minimal wash thanks to those beautifully integrated fenestrons. In perfect conditions I reckon to carve a RAF WW2 barrage balloon in around 30 minutes. One of my trademark Short Sunderlands obviously takes a little longer – maybe an hour – and depending on the cloud fabric may involve some detail work with semi-autonomous K160s.”

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The Foxer

Sun out. Work done. Roman sitting on the front step, blowing soap bubbles for Rumpus to chase. Maxine and Uncle George in the yard pottering about with Hero, the annexe’s 4” scale traction engine. Helen asleep on a rug under the magnolia, an open copy of The Chrysalids perched on her arm like a ridge tile.

This is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for. I type “EEL SPEAR” into my phone and less than a minute later, in a pavement cafe on the other side of the world, Father Time lowers his newspaper to find a silenced Walther PP pointed at his head.  Read the rest of this entry »