The column which grinds its teeth in the traditional way, using a mortar & pestle.
Interior. Sunday. Raining.
MYSELF: Would you like to hear a joke?
READER: (Looking up reluctantly from 5,000 piece jigsaw entitled New York Skyline): I think everyone would.
MYSELF: OK, ready?. My dog’s got no dictionary.
READER: Oh I see! Then how does he spell?
READER: (Knits brow, looks blank, goes back to jigsaw puzzle)
MYSELF: I think that’s actually a bit of sky you’re trying to wedge into the Empire State Building there.
READER: (tartly) I’ll do the jigsaws, you stick to the jokes.
The jury at Hastings Assizes court no.5 were left stunned when case no 117b,
Rosemary & Wilfred Garibaldi vs Hugo Messerschmitt was thrown out of court by His Worshipful Justice Lord Hyphen-Hyphen (presiding).
The jury was reminded by counsel for the defence Patrick Hadaway QC, senior partner with the firm of Howayman Hadaway & Shayte that Mr. Messerschmitt, a travelling salesman and prominent member of the Royal and Ancient Order of Cheese Buffaloes (Hastings lodge), was arrested last July and charged with indecent exposure after he turned up at the Garibaldi’s wedding reception naked from the waist down.
Questioned by Alastair Tipperary QC acting for the plaintiff, Mrs. Garibaldi told the court that there was a knock on the door around 8pm and when she opened it, she was shocked to see the defendant wearing a jacket and tie, but no trousers, adding; “When I eventually looked at his face, I realised I’d never clapped eyes on him in me life.”
Called to the witness stand, Mr Messerschmitt testified under oath that he had indeed received a postal invitation to the party, albeit addressed to Felicity Smallgoose, a childhood friend of Mrs Garibaldi of whom he had never heard. “I thought it was just a typo,” he told the court, “I had never heard of the Garibaldis either, but I love the biscuits of the same name which gave me the idea that I might like them too, so I thought I’d go along.” Asked about the omitted trousers he glanced momentarily at a blushing Mrs Garibaldi. “I was in a quandary,” he said, “the invitation’s dress code clearly stated smart but casual so I chose a dark blue double-breasted mohair suit, which looked very smart, but to be perfectly honest seemed a little lacking in the casual department. That’s when I had the brainwave – I simply left out the trousers.”
Counsel for the defence made this appeal to the court: “Your Honour, my client suffers from recurring delirium as a result of contracting childhood malaria from an infected terrapin, and cannot be held fully responsible for his actions. Furthermore he has, of his own volition, taken professional advice and now wears medically prescribed trousers, which can only be removed in private.”
There was scattered applause and some sobbing after Judge Hyphen-Hyphen dismissed the case and awarded the defendant full puisne costs with judice anno mortice plebium, under section 5 of the steam locomotives act of 1847. As court was adjourned there were astonished gasps from the gallery as the QC was heard to whisper “You owe me a pint your H – see you at the lodge.”
Professor Gordon Thinktank, Hastings’ crack scientist and inventor has put in a patent application for a new material which can be precision moulded to replace the universally loathed and ubiquitous plastic bottle. The white-coated polymath could scarcely contain his excitement as he greeted me at the gates of his secret research facility, to which I was driven blindfolded in the back of an unmarked van. “For the moment, I call this material new plastic.” He explained, his bushy eyebrows fighting each other for supremacy. “It’s manufactured using exactly the same process as ordinary household windows, so it’s quite safe; however there are critical differences”.
“Once moulded into a bottle shape, new plastic’s inherent transparency means that whatever is contained therein may be observed by potential customers from the outside. But more importantly,” the professor assured me proudly, tapping the side of an imaginary bottle, “it can be rinsed and re-used by simply running it under a cold tap.” As he began began performing an elaborate bottle-rinsing mime involving an imaginary sink, I pointed out that what he was describing was in fact just a traditional glass bottle, of the sort first produced in South East Asia around 1 AD, and which has been in general use more or less universally ever since. The professor’s eyes glazed over suddenly. With an expression of disappointment bordering on despair, he turned off the imaginary tap, and gripping my arm rather too tightly, led me to his laboratory, where he opened an apparatus cupboard revealing a litter of delightful week-old kittens gambolling playfully in a silk-lined radar dish. When I turned around he was gone
Uri Geller, the spoon-bending charlatan, has offered his assistance to Hastings & St Leonards FC during the forthcoming Euro 2021 Bush League Cup. “What a lot of people don’t know is that it was me who saved England’s face by preventing the ball from going over the line at the World Cup in ’66,” the fraudulent bullshitter told us from his Museum of Utter Cock, in Tel Aviv, “Do you think I got this spoon-powered Cadillac by being untruthful, sycophantic and oilier than a bowl of wriggling poisonous eels? Please, if you doubt me, just close your eyes. I want you to imagine a giant spoon, big enough to hold all the Kellog’s Corn Flakes in the world. Now it is bending, bending, bending, like a field of wheat in a hurricane or a 60-metre high beanstalk with a cannibalistic giant on top. You see? That is my power.”
Asked for a comment, recently sacked Warriors’ manager Giovani Fuctivano (The Goalfather) told us, “Uri assured me that our last game of the 20/21 season against Cockmarlin Thunderbolts, which resulted in an 8-0 defeat, would have ended 9-8 in our favour had he not been concentrating on boiling an egg using psychic cookery at the time. Not only would we have avoided relegation to the Hobson’s Denture Fixative League (south), but my tenure as manager would have been secured for another season”
A new series featuring random peeks from behind ear-based curtains
Man on bus: Curiously, one usually remembers things as much bigger than they actually are.
Lady on bus: Like your penis you mean?
Customer in restaurant: Waiter, please tell chef that I find this Edam to be both tasty and exciting!
Waiter: I’m sorry sir, I’ll get you another
Here are a few more disconnected pieces of home-based wisdom I overheard during my investigations. If any readers have the foggiest idea……
There’s nothing migrates like an anchovy
When the bells toll, the cows relax
The right stick is worth a million poles
One pie at night, two pies in the morning
URI GELLER’S PSYCHIC SPOON-POWERED CADILLAC WHICH CLAIMS TO REDUCE JOURNEY TIME BY STRAIGHTENING OUT THE BENDS IN ROADS
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