Archive | 19:59

If Only…

17 Feb

Describe the perfect crime.

Someone would break into my house and clean it. 

If they stole the Hub’s crap, that would be a bonus.

Too Good To Keep To Myself

17 Feb
A scene from Disorder in the Court.

Image via Wikipedia

I got these from but I’ve seen them doing the email rounds.  As, to judge from the reaction to my previous post, I’ll be going to court myself soon, to fight internment, I thought they were apposite.


They are from a book called Disorder in the Court, and are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now published by court reporters – who had the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were taking place.


Q: What is your date of birth?

A: July 15th.

Q: What year?

A: Every year.


Q: How old is your son, the one living with you?

A: Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can’t remember which.

Q: How long has he lived with you?

A: Forty-five years.


Q: What was the first thing your husband said to you when he woke up that morning?

A: He said, “Where am I, Cathy?”

Q: And why did that upset you?

A: My name is Susan.


 Q: How was your first marriage terminated?

A: By death.

Q: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?

A: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.


Q: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?

A: No.

Q: Did you check for blood pressure?

A: No.

Q: Did you check for breathing?

A: No.

Q: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?

A: No.

Q: How can you be so sure, Doctor?

A: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.

Q: But could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?

A: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.



Yes You Should; No You Shouldn’t

17 Feb

Image via Wikipedia

The results are in!  And in no particular order, the winner of the theme poll (as opposed to a bean pole, which I don’t think is even a real thing, is it?  How many poles have you seen with beans stuck to them?  Or even made of beans?  And it begs the question: which is the best bean for the job?  Do you use one particular type – green/baked/runner etc [I put in the ‘etc.’ because that’s all the beans I know.  And I’d better get to the point soon because I’m running out of punctuation marks.  Though I must just say this: I’m not racist; or beanist; or even wordist: I didn’t forget this one: a person {not sexist, either} asks a naturalized citizen, ‘What nationality are you?’  Not an everyday question, I grant you; but the person is nosy and probably training for the forthcoming census.  The naturalised citizen replies (in perfect English because they have a much better education system than we do), ‘Well, I’ve been Pole…’]?)

Still with me, people?  Good.  Tell me again what we were discussing…?  Oh, yes!  My blog’s theme.  So, in no particular order, the winner of the theme poll (I stole that in no particular order, the winner is, by the way.  Dermot O’Weary said it when announcing the winner of the X Factor one year.  Spud and I say it during every results show of every talent show we watch; we never get tired of it.  Though I did get bored watching American Idol and America’s Got Talent.  It doesn’t feel the same when you know you’re watching it a couple of weeks behind.  I had to avoid the internet like the play* so I didn’t know if Crystal Bowersox or Lee DeWize won.  I can’t see Dermot getting the American X Factor gig; can you?  Simon can’t rest his arm on Dermot’s chair – because he doesn’t have one – like he can with Cheryl.)  Where was I?

So I was saying, in no particular order, the winner of the theme poll was…undecided.  You lot are hopeless.  ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ received five votes each.  There were two ‘maybes’; one who relished the opportunity to make fun of me (you know who you are; I don’t.  We’ll leave it at that); and – rather worryingly – five people who forgot the question.  Actually, I don’t know why I say ‘worryingly’: we are clearly all kindred spirits.  I’ve never yet offered to make my family a brew without first having to come back into the lounge to re-count the yeas and nays – all two or three or sometimes one of them.  And if you’ve read this far, I’m sure you don’t doubt it.

So, anyway, umm, weeeeell…what to do?

In this case, the editor’s decision has to be final.  I’m the editor.  I’ll, um, I think, err….  Okay, here it is.  The thing is.  Here’s the thing.  This is the thing.***

Okay.  I love change; I really do.  Except in shops’ changing rooms.  The space is always too small; there are never enough hooks; and at my age (earlier post refers) I need a stool – and preferably an armchair; or, given the state of my Malteser bum, a couch.  I love change; I really do.  It’s okay; I know to stop there.  I love change; I really do.  But I hate this new theme.  It was okay for the first hour but now it looks all spare and clinical and clean.  Not my thing at all.  I’m sorry, people: I’m throwing the Duster out.*****


*Macbeth; it must be: what other plays are routinely avoided?  Apart from anything by Tennessee Williams; but that’s just the Hub’s bias**

**Or ‘hatred’, to give the word its true meaning (as interpreted by the Hub)

***I’ve been watching ‘Friends’.  Whaaat?  Great writers steal from other writers.  So do plagiarists and bad writers, of course, but acknowledge the source; acknowledge the source is my motto; drummed into me by the Open University.  Consider The thing is.  Here’s the thing.  This is the thing. italicized, inverted commarised**** and all-round big fat acknowledged.

****I know there’s no ‘r’ in ‘comma’ but I had to add one or the word just doesn’t make sense.  I’m right, aren’t I?

*****I bet that would have been way more dramatic if I hadn’t already changed back before posting this, wouldn’t it?

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