Another good Sunday puzzle from Hoskins.
This one all fell into place in a straightforward manner, without any obvious sticking points. As such, there’s very little I can add, though that isn’t in any way a criticism.
Across | ||
1 | BURMA | A state once brought about by morning massage (5) |
(AM + RUB), all reversed. | ||
4 | CARRIED ON | Kept talking by bore – that’s nothing new (7,2) |
CARRIED + 0 + N. | ||
9 | RUNTINESS | Little quality shown by awful US interns (9) |
Anagram of (US INTERNS). | ||
10 | SCRAP | Fool to take on vacuous codger – fight! (5) |
(C[odge]R in SAP). | ||
11 | ELEVEN | This clue flat? Start it with some élan! (6) |
EL[an] + EVEN. | ||
12 | BLUEBILL | Unhappy bishop getting sick? Duck! (8) |
BLUE + B + ILL. | ||
14 | DISTILLATE | A little shaken up by underworld spirit? (10) |
DIS + (A LITTLE)*. | ||
16 | SEAT | Group of people pinching a backside (4) |
A in SET. | ||
19 | RUMP | Cut? The Donald needs his head shaved! (4) |
[t]RUMP. As in a cut of meat. | ||
20 | BED OF ROSES | Free beers and foods? Easy street! (3,2,5) |
Anagram of (BEERS + FOODS). | ||
22 | G-STRINGS | Excessive fiddlers might break these undies (1-7) |
Two definitions. | ||
23 | UTOPIA | Rolling first-class weed with you is paradise (6) |
(A1 + POT + U), all reversed. | ||
26 | TAMPA | A politician tucking into half-done taco and port (5) |
(A + MP) in TA[co]. | ||
27 | IT BEATS ME | I dunno what my Hoskins flagellating device does (2,5,2) |
A definition and a whimsical definition. | ||
28 | PASTICHES | Jumbled mixtures of children put in Cornish pies (9) |
CH in PASTIES. | ||
29 | TREAT | Pay for part consultant re-attached (5) |
Hidden in [consultan]T REAT[tached]. | ||
Down | ||
1 | BARTENDER | A source of rum and bit of tequila during binge? (9) |
(A + R[um] + T[equila]) in BENDER. | ||
2 | RANGE | Storm coming across northern group of peaks (5) |
N in RAGE. | ||
3 | AS I SEE IT | When one’s to have drugs and sex, IMO (2,1,3,2) |
AS + I‘S + E + E + IT. | ||
4 | CREW | Don’t start prison guard and a group of folk rowing (4) |
[s]CREW. | ||
5 | RESOLUTION | Determination of son replacing vile leader in coup (10) |
From REVOLUTION, with S replacing V[ile]. | ||
6 | ISSUES | Problems with kids and spouses primarily (6) |
ISSUE + S[pouse]. | ||
7 | DIRTINESS | Hoskins must put on frock filled with money and filth (9) |
I in (TIN in DRESS). | ||
8 | NEPAL | Monkey about in the borders of neutral country (5) |
APE< in N[eutra]L. | ||
13 | OLD ENGLISH | Anglo-Saxon shield long in need of restoration (3,7) |
Anagram of (SHIELD LONG)*. | ||
15 | SOMETIMES | I seem most dishevelled on occasion (9) |
Anagram of (I SEEM MOST). | ||
17 | TESTAMENT | Will mates let loose in temporary accommodation? (9) |
MATES* in TENT. | ||
18 | PROTRACT | Drag out religious pamphlet written by an expert? (8) |
PRO + TRACT. | ||
21 | DIWALI | Women’s group about to open surrealist festival (6) |
WI< in Salvador DALI. | ||
22 | GET-UP | Outfit with an order to abandon pit? (3-2) |
Probably two definitions, though the latter somewhat whimsical. | ||
24 | PASTE | Old man with a short stride and stick (5) |
PA + STE[p]. | ||
25 | IBIS | Bird swinging around above island (4) |
BI< + IS. |
* = anagram; < = reversed; [] = removed; underlined = definition; Hover to expand abbreviations
NIce. G-STRINGS made me laugh and I loved the surface of UTOPIA. The &lit-ish BARTENDER is also very clever.
Thanks Hoskins and Simon.
Pleasant way to wind down after yesterday’s offering from Nimrod. BARTENDER was my favourite too and I liked the surface for ISSUES. Probably just coincidence and means nothing, but there are a few pairs – BURMA and NEPAL, SEAT and RUMP, RUNTINESS and SCRAP and BED OF ROSES and UTOPIA.
Thank you to Hoskins and Simon.
Thanks to Hoskins for an excellent puzzle and to Simon for the blog.
I think the clue for BED OF ROSES is exceptionally good
Very entertaining!
Thanks for blogging, Simon.
As usual with a Hoskins, enjoyed this one. I just got stuck on my last two (CARRIED ON and BED OF ROSES) but they were both fair, so it’s down to my lack of ability rather than dodgy clueing. Anyway, got there in the end after the usual solver option of ‘go away for a bit and do something else and then come back to it’.
DIWALI is one of those words that have been imported into English which has a number of possible spellings, including DEEPAVALI. Odd, isn’t it? A festival of light clue to welcome us into the longer spring days.
This had me chuckling from 1a. I don’t want to sound like too much of a fangrl so I’ll shut up now. Suffice to say I enjoyed it.
Thanks to Hoskins and Simon.
Another super puzzle with lovely, economical clues and a nice sprinkling of smutty ingenuity. It doesn’t seem that long ago when Hoskins was setting Rookie puzzles at Big Dave’s site, and don’t policemen look young these days?
Cheers to Hoskins and to Simon for the blog.
Many thanks to SH for the usual great blog and to all who solved and especially those who commented.
Feel free to fangrl away, Kittezh – you’ll get no resistance from me. Oh, and nice to be remembered from Rookie Corner, Michael – though I must declare I feel older than I look and I fear that how old I feel is soon to etch itself in the unfortunate collection of features that some kinder folk have called my face … must be all that beer I’ve been drinking. Time to cut down, methinks.
Looking forward to appearing in the Indy again soon – Easter Sunday, I believe – with a more straight-laced and I think rather tougher puzzle (though for those who like the more ribald Hoskins I have plenty of the cheekier crossies in the bank, too).
And so, with that said, I’m off for an Ovaltine and an early night even though I can now hear the clinking and a-clonking of the fabled FifteenSquared Drinks Trolley. Yes, I shall and will resist its golden-boozed charms – after all, how hard can this cutting down drinking malarkey be for a man of my Wildean will …
…
…
…
pssst
fizz
gulp
hiccup
mmmmmmm, drinks trolley
Cheers and chin chin to all – see you all next time around (or more likely tomorrow where, IIRC, there’s a really nice puzzle from Peter waiting to kick-start the Indy week). π
Parklife!
(just kiddin’)
Hehe – nice moves, Sil. π
Pwned!
For that I will buy you a pint, Sil.
Harry, if you’ll allow me, I think I’ll buy you an Ovaltine. π
That’s a deal, Kitty. Of course, the Ovaltine must be made to my recipe which is 1 part Ovaltine and eleventy-five parts beers-o-the-world. I believe the glass cocktail-makers use for this particular very subtle and delicate concoction is known as a ‘bouquet’ – pronounced the Hyacinth way, natch – and comes with a pre-paid ambulance service voucher for a one-way trip to The Priory along with a little umbrella and sparkler laced with TNT. π
If I’m paying for that lot, I’ll need that ambulance for myself …