Thursday, July 26, 2012
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Life's mysteries explained
Organized Dating.
In a moment of weakness, I allowed a 'matchmaker' friend to arrange this for me.
This consisted of equal numbers of single men and women meeting at a restaurant.
Invariably, both sides sized each other up within milliseconds.
The blokes went on to enjoy a blokey meal of red meat, lots of strong drink. The women picked about greenery, talking amongst themselves until it was time to relieve the babysitter. At which point the men continued to work through the establisments supply of all things alcoholic, eventually departing after a pleasant evening of bonhomie...
Here endth the lesson.
In a moment of weakness, I allowed a 'matchmaker' friend to arrange this for me.
This consisted of equal numbers of single men and women meeting at a restaurant.
Invariably, both sides sized each other up within milliseconds.
The blokes went on to enjoy a blokey meal of red meat, lots of strong drink. The women picked about greenery, talking amongst themselves until it was time to relieve the babysitter. At which point the men continued to work through the establisments supply of all things alcoholic, eventually departing after a pleasant evening of bonhomie...
Here endth the lesson.
Guess what I was doing last night...
Tony Blair, the British Prime Minister, is being shown around a Glasgow hospital. Towards the end of the visit, he is shown into a ward with a number people with no obvious signs of injury or disease. He goes to greet the first patient and he replies:
"Fair fa' your honest sonsie face, Great chieftain e' the puddin' race! Aboon them a' ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm; Weel are ye wordy o' a grace as lang's my arm."
Tony, being somewhat confused (very easily done) goes to the next patient and greets him. He replies:
"Some hae meat, and canna eat, and some wad eat that want it, but we hae meat and can eat, and sae the Lord be thankit."
The third starts rattling off as follows: "Wee sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, wi bickering brattle! I wad be laith to rin an chase thee, wi murdering pattle!"
Tony turns to the doctor accompanying him and asks what sort of ward is this. A mental ward? "No," replies the doctor, "It's the Serious Burns unit."
"Fair fa' your honest sonsie face, Great chieftain e' the puddin' race! Aboon them a' ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm; Weel are ye wordy o' a grace as lang's my arm."
Tony, being somewhat confused (very easily done) goes to the next patient and greets him. He replies:
"Some hae meat, and canna eat, and some wad eat that want it, but we hae meat and can eat, and sae the Lord be thankit."
The third starts rattling off as follows: "Wee sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, wi bickering brattle! I wad be laith to rin an chase thee, wi murdering pattle!"
Tony turns to the doctor accompanying him and asks what sort of ward is this. A mental ward? "No," replies the doctor, "It's the Serious Burns unit."
Saturday, July 07, 2012
Only in friggin' Masterton
"Ever wondered if a nail could pierce bone? A Masterton man apparently did, so he placed a nailgun against his forehead and pulled the trigger to find out.
The nail shot into his skull, pinned his beanie to his head and came to rest behind his nose.
"He actually walked himself into the hospital and was laughing about it," said Vicki Hookham, charge nurse manager at Wairarapa Hospital's Emergency Department."
So- not much else in there beside bone?
So- not much else in there beside bone?
Thursday, July 05, 2012
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