A 180 with those flights . . .

 . . . and on St Andrews Day!

Rejoice with a Caramel Wafer bought from a Brooklyn supermarket in a neighbourhood where there's a large Afro-Caribbean population, and if you can't lay your grubby mitts on a can of Irn Bru, do the next best thing: squeeze a dash of Dawn's orange scented washing up liquid into a bowl of hot water - dirty dishes are optional - and breath in that aroma. I swear it smells like Irish Bru. Just don't become overcame with waves of nostalgia and try and drink it. Hospital bills are extortionate in the USA.

81/50

Through a glass darkly . . .

 . . . Christ, did I take a picture of this 180 using a Kodak box brownie? Maybe it should be in sepia?

"Darkly" . . . "dark thunders" . . . the ghost of Sid Waddell haunts this blog.

80/50

Gregory's Girl (1981)

 

Monday morning . . .

. . . and it's too early, nobody's had enough sleep and certain family members are grumpy as fuck. In between making people's breakfasts and waiting for the kettle to boil I switch on the Russ Bray Darts App and resume a marathon 501 game against my digital opponent.

Maybe it's my half-awake state or me just trying to tune out the general morning melee but I hit a 130 checkout - T20, T20, D5 - and it's the second time I've hit that same checkout in the last few days. For some reason, D5 works for me.

All is calm and serene - for me, at least - this Monday morning.

Shit, I've peaked too soon. 

Get Shorty (1995)

 

Dirty Harry (1971)

 

The Mummy (1999)

 

Posting this late . . .

. . . how late? December 12th in the cold morning late.

I'm looking at this 180 and I've got nothing to add. I'm sure I was happy at the time. The board's looking a bit fucked, tbh.

It was the 3rd 180 of the day . . . so that was good. Yeah, I've got nothing and it shows.

76/50

Stems with encrusted diamonds, anyone?

Shouldn't the 75th 180 of the year be marked down as a cause for celebration? It's an achievement of sorts. Only problem is that once you've hit a hundred 180s in a year - 2020 since you ask - anything less than that pales into insignificance. Pathetic mindset, really.

75/50

Blog Darts Housekeeping

The blog is missing some 180s. Please bear with me.

A filthy 180 . . . absolutely filthy

The middle dart was the third dart and it's just 'resting' between the other two darts, barely touching the board. 

If it wasn't for the other two darts, it would be on the ground and I would be staring at it in disgust.

74/50

"This wasn't in the script . . . "

Famous last words, and all that, but Anderson has come steaming back in the Grand Slam of Darts against Luke Littler.

Frankie says . . .

. . . it looks like you need a new board. That 5 segment looks bent out of shape.

71/50

Busted . . . but flush

I was on 60 . . . I needed a single 20 for double tops . . . I hit a triple 20 . . . and just kept going.

. . . still won the leg.

63/50

Filling in gaps on a cold December night

This was the last of my four 180s from November 10th. The first one from that day has already been posted on the blog. I was in a Brand New Heavies mood at the time. 

This time, I'm just listening to the kettle boil and wondering if I'll watch the rest of Robert Powell's portrayal of Richard Hannay in the 1978 version of The 39 Steps. 

By mentioning the film on the blog, it's almost as if I'm trying to blackmail myself into watching the rest of it. As if that matters. Though I will say, Ronald Pickup plays a good villain. And David Warner just plays . . .well, David Warner in arch nemesis mode. That was half his movie CV when you look back at it. I used to see David Warner at demos back in the day in London. Funny how lefty actors could play such good villains. David Calder is cut from the same cloth.

Anyway, back to the 180s and the 2024DartsChallenge.

59/50

Midnight at the Oasis apartment

I liked the Brand New Heavies back in the day, and I don't give a fuck who knows.

56/50

Bushfires in Bushwick?

Apparently, there are smoke warnings across Brooklyn right now. What can I say  . . . my darts are on fire.

. . . nothing like a bit of hubris on a Saturday night. Bay Ridge did used to be a Greek neighborhood, after all. (American spelling, folks.)

55/50

'Don't quote me on this . . . '

. . .  but this 146 might be my highest ever check out. And, funnily enough, I threw for a 156 checkout about 10 minutes later. Of course, I missed the D18 . . . I hate the D18 as a rule.

That Paul Rudd meme

I'm scrambling for *checks notes* witty post titles . . . so, sometimes, I just have to go with whatever noise is happening in the background at the time of writing. Step forward Mr Rudd and that meme/gif . . . whatever the fuck it is.

54/50

14 Darts

According to a significant section of the political chattering class, a fascist is back in the White House. 

I don't buy it myself. Trump will always fall into the category of a klepto-capitalist, who is just in the job to enrich himself, to avoid jail and for the added shits and giggles. And enough people bought it. Never knew there were so many Shy Trump voters out there. You live and learn.

The weird thing is that I can't help feeling that - with the benefit of hindsight - the Democrats would have done better with a doddering Biden against Trump.

Okay, that's enough highfalutin political analysis. In happier personal news, I just hit a 14 darter. My best ever score in a 501 game. Okay, I'm playing a Dart App  . . .  it's not a real game . . . but I'll take it.

For the completists among you, my darts were 140, 180, 95, 30, 56. A 56 checkout in 2 darts. 

A Triple 1 instead of a Triple 18 - and it was on the bastard wire - denied me the chance to throw for a 11-darter. That would have been fucking wild.

The eagle-eyed amongst you will notice a 180 in amongst that lot. Here it is:

53/50