“Never ask your wife when dinner will be ready while she’s still mowing the lawn. It could be dangerous.”
AT A GIRLS’ hostel, dates are permitted only on Saturday nights. A young fellow arrives on a Tuesday. He tells an older woman in the lobby that he needs urgently to see a certain young lady.
“I want to surpise her. She’s my sister.”
“She’ll be surprised all right. But think how surprised I am. I’m her mother!”
The Auldest Leid
He read it in a buik o Herodotus: the wey ti fin the auldest leid.
Nou King Jamie was ettlin ti try it himsel. Sae twa new-born babbies were fund, whaise mither hadnae wun throu.
They were gien til a deif-mute wumman ti mynd, wha had nae bairns o her ain an no a word in her chafts.
Then aa thrie were sent ti bide on an inch in the firth, wi jist the sea-maws an solans for company.
Thrie-fower year gaed by, an the king caaed thegither his wycest men: hiscoonsellors, bishops an professors. An he caaed for the twa bairnies an aa. But whilk auncient tongue wud they speak? Some thocht it wud be Hebrew, an ithers the Greek, whilst a strang pairty haudit oot for the Gaelic.
Then a wheesht soupit owre the assembly as the bairnies were brocht forrit.
No dauntoned, the wee sowls tottered straucht up til the king. An naither were they sweirt ti speak: “Haw, mister! Goanie no send us back til that island, eh no?”
“Aye,” greed his sib, “’cause it’s just pure mingin, so it is.
Ken wha’ Ah mean?”
Gordon Donaldson (DonDon)
Thanks to John, TMc, Graham, DonDon, Brenda.
Thanks to Andimac, Derek, John, Kay.
Thanks to Dave.
No wonder Munguin looks confused.
The Rt Hon. the Noble Baron Frost, one of our betters so we are told, has decided that the use of filthy foreign measures for our fruit and vegetables… and everything else… is to cease, and we will return to the good old fashioned British way of counting things we don’t have.
Also, water will be sold in pints, not these disgusting litre things that foreigners use. It will taste much much better, even though it will be quite rare because everyone will be buying it up in quantities unknown when there was a touch of foreign about it.
But if what you were looking for is out of stock, put a great british smile on your face and look for alternatives. Your raging thirst may not be assuaged, but if there are no pints of water, you can always buy a ball of string, 10ft of it (that’s 120 inches and not 3.048 meters). Think of what you can do with good British string.
Remember, the Brits are clever people so the complexities of the imperial systems of measure will come easily to them, unlike dim foreign people who need there to be 100 of everything in everything.
Munguin’s handy guide to what you need to know:
|Gallon = 8 pints|
|Quart = 2 pints|
|Pint = 4 gills|
|Pint = 20 fl oz.|
That’s just a taster.
There’s distance to learn, and there’s weights, and every single thing is different. All this 100s nonsense will be a thing of the past.
How exciting it will be to have furlongs and poles ( not the European type)
Maybe shortly gentlemen will be wearing powdered wigs and ladies will be be in crinoline and we will go back to the good old days of 4 farthings to a penny, 12 pennies to a shilling, 20 shillings to a pound… and posh people will use guineas.
One note of caution though, the Noble Baron is known for coming up with plans which he and his boss consider to be over ready and absolutely fool proof, only to find them utterly ridiculous and unworkable only a few weeks later. Munguin, Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Lord Frost NI protocol.
(Munguin thanks Derek for his Sainsbury’s nonsense photos. Methinks Lord Sainsbury is a Brexiteer.)
The Scottish Health Secretary has asked people only to call the EMERGENCY services in cases of… guess what… yep EMERGENCIES.
And everyone seems to been loosing it over that.
We can remind you that it has ever been thus.
And even in the United Kingdom, where as we know, everything is perfect..
We all know that some people have phoned for an ambulance for utterly trivial reasons and that is not now and has never been what they are for.
Here is the advice from the ENGLISH heath service:
When to call 999
At some point, most people will either witness or be involved in an accident or experience a medical emergency.
Knowing what to do next and who to call can potentially save lives.
Call 999 in a medical emergency. This is when someone is seriously ill or injured and their life is at risk.
Medical emergencies can include:
- loss of consciousness
- an acute confused state
- fits that are not stopping
- chest pain
- breathing difficulties
- severe bleeding that cannot be stopped
- severe allergic reactions
- severe burns or scalds
Also call 999 if you think someone has had a major trauma, such as after a serious road traffic accident, a stabbing, a shooting, a fall from height, or a serious head injury.
If you’re not sure what to do
NHS 111 can help if you need urgent medical help or you’re not sure what to do.
They will ask questions about your symptoms so you get the help you need.
If you need to go to A&E, NHS 111 will book an arrival time. This might mean you spend less time in A&E. This also helps with social distancing.
You can get help from 111.nhs.uk or call 111. It’s available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
It would be an idea if folk got off the Heath Secretary’s back.
I’m not altogether sure that it is a good look for the new English Culture Secretary to be backing a far right tv station (whose boss resigned after a few weeks).
She not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I was surprised to learn that she was indignant about the fact that the UK no longer had seats in the EU parliament after the UK had left Europe.
Maybe she thinks we should be represented in the parliament of Mongolia, Peru, Paraguay, Monaco too… Who knows with her!
Remember, she was the one who when Mr Green was accused of looking at pornography on his parliamentary computer, said… it might not have been him looking at the porn. My staff all have the password to my computer and log in every day…maybe forgetting that she was a junior minister with access to highly confidential information.
Buffoon. She’ll fit in perfectly in the new cabinet.
Johnson apparently wanted to demote Raab the Useless to the post of Justice Secretary, but in an argument that lasted for two-hours, Raab managed to get him to make him Deputy Prime Minister. So when Johnson takes off on his holidays (which he does on a regular basis) Raab will be able to lie on a beach somewhere and ignore the plight of all and sundry in the official position of Deputy PM.
As English Justice Secretary he may be able to instigate a long held desire of his… to remove human rights legislation from the UK (possibly even from Scots Law). Something we will need to fight.
He is also Lord Chancellor so we can look forward to seeing him in a ridiculous outfit of Gold and Black like this clown.
This clown, of course, (why not) is now Foreign Secretary. Heaven help us. Her main job, apparently is to repair the relationship between Britain and the USA.
I’m not sure how she will set about that while Johnson is prime minister and while Joe Biden is president.
The President is unlikely to forget the way Johnson spoke of Barak Obama, his dear friend, or that in general he referred to black people as piccaninnies and made comments about water melon smiles.
Additionally Joe Biden is of Irish descent and must be looking on with dismay at the mess that Johnson’s government, including the unbelievably vacuous Lord Frost, in charge of the aftermath of Brexit, is making of the NI protocol which, the last I heard, was going to be abandoned in contravention of the treaty with the EU. Breaking the law in a “specific and limited way”, I seem to remember it was described.
So good luck, Cheese Lady. You’re going to need it.
It appears that Union Jackie (you know, the bloke who agreed with the prime minister that a tunnel (Boris’s Burrow) through the discarded armaments of WWII, to Northern Ireland was a wonderful idea…) is being left at the Scotland Office.
Given that when the Under Secretary resigned to take up the post as branch office manager in Edinburgh (a job he is making a thundering mess of), they had to appoint an English MP in his place, because the rest of them were so useless, I’m not desperately surprised… although nor would I have been surprised if Her Highness, the Rt Hon, Noble and Gallant Duchess of London Lynx had been asked to take on that role.
Of course it may be that Johnson just forgot that there was a Scotland Secretary and that Jack wasn’t just the butler.
The Queen’s first cousin, a recipient of the Kremlin’s prestigious Order of Friendship, told undercover reporters he could make business introductions to those in the Kremlin for money. Prince Michael’s a grubby money grifter.
Oh, and while he’s handing out all this dosh to Royalty мистер Lues managed to hand the Brit Foreign Secretary and All-Round Beach Boy Dimwit a generous handful of Roubles. Maybe he’ll buy a gold-plated map of Calais with it?
AirMiles’s has lawyers claiming that the papers for him to appear in a court in New York to defend himself against the charges brought in a civil action against him, were wrongly served. What to say…
Well, once again the creepy git has fled to Scotland, bringing his ex-wife with him, and hidden himself on Lizzy’s Balmoral estate where no one will be able to get to him.
Apparently, he’s acting like nothing has happened and led a shooting party because, I suppose, killing innocent animals for sport is what that kind of lowlife does.
According to the Express article and “senior courtiers” (what century do they live in), no one at Balmoral wants him.
I’d go further and say no one in Scotland wants him.
Please, please, please…can britain, or at least Scotland, move into the 21st century and dump these utterly ghastly people?
Maybe of interest:
Talking of ghastly people, a stack of Gove’s racist, homophobic and otherwise disgusting comments has been released for our “edification”.
It seems he’s even more unlikeable than I had preciously thought, but he’ll be safe. There’s nothing he’s said that his boss hasn’t said more loudly and more often.
How repulsive is your prime minister, Brits.
A MAFIA godfather discovers that his bookkeeper, Guido, has cheated him out of $10 million. Guido is deaf and dumb. That’s how he got the job in the first place. He could hear nothing so he could never be called on to testify in court.
When the Godfather confronts Guido about his missing $10 million, he takes along his lawyer who knows signs language.
Godfather: “Ask him where the money is.”
Lawyer (using sign language): “Where’s the money?”
Guido: (also in sign language): “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lawyer: “He says he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”
The Godfather pulls out a pistol and puts it to Guido’s head: “Ask him again. Tell him unless he tells us I’ll kill him.”
The lawyer repeats it in sign language.
Guido (all a-tremble and in sign language): “OK, you win! The money is in a brown briefcase buried behind the shed at my cousin Bruno’s house.”
Godfather: “What’s he say?”
Lawyer: “He says get knotted, you don’t have the guts to pull the trigger!”
NATURE note. The difference between humans and animals? Animals would never allow the dumbest ones to lead the pack...
“MY EX-HUSBAND wants to marry me again.
“Not really. I think he’s after the money I married him for.”
Thanks to Brenda, John, Erik, T and Graham.
Bonus, just seen on Twitter: