It’s been a bitter-sweet week; we had a couple of decent days early in the week, an exceptionally grand family picnic, a round of golf and a very nice meal out (with voucher, of course). However, I also had the misfortune to tweak my back on Wednesday and then, on Thursday afternoon, Adam had to depart on his journey home, the bitterest blow of the week and a sad reminder that the summer is winding to its conclusion.
Continue reading “28 August 2011”
28 August 2011 – Amusements
A mother and father were chatting with their eight-year-old son about his future. The youngster said he’d like to attend Cornell, as his parents and other members of the family had. Pleased with his response, they pressed on. “What would you like to take when you attend college?” they asked the little boy.
After giving it some thought and glancing around the kitchen, he replied, “The refrigerator, if you can get along without it.” Continue reading “28 August 2011 – Amusements”
21 August 2011
As far as “smoking guns” go, the latest revelation in the on-going phone hacking saga concerning Rupert Murdoch’s News Corp is pretty significant. One can certainly smell the cordite if not actually see the wisps of smoke. The latest document to be released this week by the Commons Select Committee is a letter written by Clive Goodman four years ago protesting his sacking from the News of the World following his conviction and imprisonment for hacking the royal family. News Corps has always alleged that he was the “one rogue reporter.” However, his letter claims that phone hacking was widely discussed at editorial meetings until Andy Coulson, the editor at the time and more recently David Cameron’s media adviser, specifically banned further references to it, that Coulson assured him his job would be safe if he did not implicate the newspaper when he came to court and that his own hacking was carried out “with the full knowledge and support” of other senior journalists whom he named. Continue reading “21 August 2011”
21 August 2011 – Amusements
One day Pinocchio came to Gepetto with a problem.
“Every time I have sex with my girlfriend, she gets splinters. What can I do about this?”
“Have you tried sandpaper?” Pinocchio hadn’t, so he went to try it.
“Pinocchio,” said Gepetto a few weeks later. “How did the problem work out with your girlfriend?”
Pinocchio replied, “Who needs a girlfriend when you have sandpaper?” Continue reading “21 August 2011 – Amusements”
14 August 2011
Was it always this bad? I suspect it might have been but not having to access too many government agencies in the past perhaps I just wasn’t aware of just how useless they are. On Friday I had two examples of the left hand not knowing what the right hand was up to if indeed the left hand even knew that there was a right hand.
Firstly, we had a letter from HM Revenue and Customs chastising SeamStress Ltd for failing to pay the employee’s share of tax (PAYE in the UK) and insisting that we forward a small fortune immediately or face prosecution if not castration. Fortunately, SeamStress filed the necessary paper work back in April to sack all its employees and insist that they become self-employed. SeamStress Ltd. itself is about to be wound up now that the company financial year has finished (31 July). I suspect you will remember all this but unfortunately the Revenue doesn’t, in spite of having previously sent confirmation that Ms Playchute herself is now obliged to pay her National Insurance personally and that it will no longer be paid by SeamStress Ltd. This required a phone call to the Revenue’s fine offices in Glasgow where we spoke with a lovely lady with an impenetrable Scottish accent who eventually accepted what we told her. (An aside: because the company is registered in Penny’s name she must give approval for the Revenue to speak with me, which we have done three or four times in the past. Nevertheless, every time we have cause to speak with them they insist on asking Penny to come to the phone, identify herself and then authorise me to speak on her behalf. So, on Friday we were proceeding through this pantomime when the lady at the other end asked, apparently, for Penny’s son’s name. Somewhat perplexed, Penny enquired why HM Revenue and Customs needed our son’s name (and, I suppose, which son did they want the name of?). In fact, it turns out that the impenetrable accent was asking her to confirm her surname). Continue reading “14 August 2011”
14 August 2011 – Amusements
The Irish have the lowest levels of stress because they do not take medical terminology seriously:
| Medical Term | Irish Definition |
| Artery | The study of paintings |
| Bacteria | The back door to the cafeteria |
| Barium | What doctors do when patients die |
| Benign | What you be after you be eight |
| Caesarean Section | A nieghbourhood in Rome |
| Cat scan | Searching for kitty |
| Cauterize | Made eye contact with her |
| Colic | A sheep dog |
| Coma | A punctuation mark |
| Dilate | To live long |
| Enema | Not a friend |
| Fester | Quicker than someone else |
| Fibula | A small lie |
| Impotent | Distinguished, well-known |
| Labour Pain | Getting hurt at work |
| Medical Staff | A doctor’s cane |
| Morbid | A high offer |
| Nitrates | Rates of pay for working at night, normally more money than days |
| Node | I knew it |
| Outpatient | A person who has fainted |
| Pelvis | Second cousin to Elvis |
| Post-Operative | A letter carrier |
| Recovery Room | Place to do upholstery |
| Rectum | Nearly killed him |
| Secretion | Hiding something |
| Seizure | Roman Emperor |
| Tablet | A small table |
| Terminal illness | Getting sick at the airport |
| Tumour | One plus one more |
| Urine | Opposite of you’re out |
7 August 2011
What a difference a week makes! Last week we were still basking in the glow of the memory of Tuscan sunshine; this week we have come back to earth and reality – arguing and negotiating with our broadband provider, our telecommunications provider and BT (British Telecom who provide all the infrastructure for the various providers to utilise) over who should rectify the fact that we have intermittent or no internet access.
On Wednesday it rained after an extended dry spell. On Wednesday, after weeks, months and perhaps even years of almost flawless service, the internet started playing up. In the past when we’ve had internet or telephone issues the fault has always been located in the junction box on a telephone pole on the other side of the road. Of course, one cannot simply telephone BT and report a fault in any of their equipment; one is required to jump through various hoops with either the broadband provider and/or the telephone provider to determine whether the fault is internal or external to the house. Our experiences in the past would suggest that the fault was likely outside but we still need our providers to confirm this. So, on Wednesday we telephoned support. The problem was that the fault was intermittent and, in fact, the internet was working more than not. So, after a few pointless investigations, we crossed our fingers, held our breath and all of Thursday and Friday it was fine. Then, on Saturday it started again and we were back (a) on the phone and (b) swapping out every piece of equipment in an effort to try and determine where the fault lay. After several hours of fruitless investigation (which involves climbing into the loft and plugging equipment into the main socket) our broadband provider conceded that the fault must clearly be somewhere outside. So, over to BT to send an engineer which they will do . . . sometime on Monday. Continue reading “7 August 2011”
7 August 2011 – Amusements
A man is at work one day when he notices that his co-worker is wearing an earring. This man knows his co-worker to be a normally, conservative fellow, and is curious about his sudden change in “fashion sense.” The man walks up to him and says, “I didn’t know you were into earrings.”
“Don’t make a big deal, it’s only an earring,” he replies sheepishly.
His friend falls silent for a few minutes, but then his curiosity prods him to say, “So, how long have you been wearing one?”
“Ever since my wife found it in my truck.”
John and Suzi had just flown to their honeymoon destination in Daytona Beach in Florida. They found their hotel room but decided to refresh themselves with a dip in the hotel pool. Suzi must have dropped a few pounds due to the pre-wedding jitters, because each time she dived into the pool, she lost either the top or bottom of her skimpy new bikini. They had the pool to themselves, so they just laughed and retrieved the pieces.
Later they dressed for dinner and went down to the hotel restaurant. Waiting for a table they sat in the lounge with all the other guests and ordered drinks. Above the bar was a huge, empty, glistening fish tank. Curious, John asked, “Why is such a beautiful fish tank empty?”
The bartender grinned from ear to ear as he replied, “That’s not a fish tank, it’s the swimming pool.”
A man walked into the produce section of a local supermarket and asked to buy a half head of lettuce. The boy working in that department told him that they only sold whole heads of lettuce. The man was insistent that the boy ask his manager about the matter.
Walking into the back room, the boy said to the manager: “Some asshole wants to buy a half head of lettuce.”
The manager was looking behind the boy, so the boy turned around to see the man standing right behind him. So he quickly added: “And this gentleman kindly offered to buy the other half.”
The manager approved the deal and the man went on his way. Later the manager said to the boy: “I was impressed with the way you got yourself out of that situation earlier. We like people who think on their feet here.”
“Thank you, sir,” the boy replied.
“Where are you from, son?”
“Texas, sir.”
“Well, why did you leave Texas?” the manager asked.
The boy said “Sir, there’s nothing down there but whores and football players!”
“Really,” said the manager. “My wife is from Texas.”
“No kidding!” replied the boy. “What position does she play?”