• Descent 302 is published on 15 February and it will soon be on its way to our subscribers.

    In the newsdesk, read a review of the underground events at Kendal Mountain Festival, plus tales of cannibalism and the Cavefish Asteroid.

    In regional news, we have three new connections in Ogof Agen Allwedd, a report on the iron mines of Anjou, an extension to Big Sink Cave in the Forest of Dean, a new dig in Yorkshire's Marble Steps Pot, student parties, an obituary for Tony Boycott, a tight find in the Peak District and a discovery in County Kerry with extensive formations.

    Click here for details of this edition

Friday joke - WARNING - contains swearing.

Using flavourless Spanish & Moroccan wintertime fresh tomatoes in ragú bolognese is pointless - you may as well use a turnip. We have both fresh and tinned San Marzano tomatoes by shopping sensibly - we use passata in a ragú anyway. Most British buy a jar of ragú rather than cook properly from scratch.
 
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The best response to a flat-earther's nonsense:







If the Earth was flat, then cats would have pushed everything off it by now.
 
I lost my dick in an accident and my wife drove me to hospital. When the doctor came he said not to worry because, these days, they can fit prosthetic ones that work just exactly like the real thing. "They come in three sizes" he said "small, medium and large but they all cost exactly the same price which is £10000. Have a chat with you wife and then I'll come back after my next patient and you can let me know what you decide."
Ten minutes later he was back and looked first to my wife and then to me. "Ah" he said "I can see that you've gone for the new kitchen instead."
 
A precious little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp,
"Excuthe me, mithter, do you sell widdle wabbits?"

The shopkeeper's heart melts, he gets down on his knees, so that he's on her level, and asks,
"Do you want a widdle white wabbit...or a thoft and fuwwy bwack wabbit...or maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabbit over there?"

She, in turn blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet voice,
"I don't fink my pet pyfon weally gives a thit."
 
A precious little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp,
"Excuthe me, mithter, do you sell widdle wabbits?"

The shopkeeper's heart melts, he gets down on his knees, so that he's on her level, and asks,
"Do you want a widdle white wabbit...or a thoft and fuwwy bwack wabbit...or maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabbit over there?"

She, in turn blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet voice,
"I don't fink my pet pyfon weally gives a thit."


A friend of my son's used to buy frozen mice from a pet shop to feed his pet snake. In order to make them attractive to the snake they require heating to normal life temperature. One day he massively over warmed the mice and they exploded inside the microwave oven - he got a lot of grief from his mother when she found the microwave interior coated with the remains of exploded mice.

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