Irish i's: 2012

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

pair a docs

My wife was screaming at me: "Leave!! Get out of this house!" she ordered.

As I was walking out the door she yelled, "I hope you die a slow and painful death!"

So I turned around and replied "So now you want me to stay?"

Bert feared his wife Peg wasn't hearing as well as she used to and he thought she might need a hearing aid.

Not quite sure how to approach her, he called the family doctor to discuss the problem.
The doctor told him there is a simple informal test the husband could perform to give him a better idea about her hearing loss.
'Here's what you do,' said the doctor, 'stand about 40 metres away from her, and in a normal conversational speaking tone see if she hears you. If not, go to 30 metres, then 20 metres, and so on until you get a response.'

That evening, Peg is in the kitchen cooking dinner, and Bert was In the den. He says to himself, 'I'm about 40 metres away, let's see what happens.' Then in a normal tone he asks, 'Honey, what's for dinner?'

No response.
So he moves closer to the kitchen, about 30 metres from his wife and repeats, 'Peg, what's for dinner?'

Still no response.

Next he moves into the dining room where he is about 20 metres from his Wife and asks, 'Honey, what's for dinner?'

Again he gets no response.

So, he walks up to the kitchen door, about 10 metres away. 'Honey, what's for dinner?'
Again there is no response..
So he walks right up behind her. 'Peg, what's for dinner?'

'For feck sake Bert, for the FIFTH time, CHICKEN!'

Where Mull of Kintyre is not Paul McCartney but Belle & Sebastian

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Bulwer-Lytton 2012

A New Zealand man has won the international Bulwer-Lytton contest for the worst opening sentence to a novel.
The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest has been sponsored by the English Department at San Jose State University since 1982. In its second year it had more than 10,000 entries and still attracts thousands more each year.

His winning entry:
The "clunk" of the guillotine blade's release reminded Marie Antoinette, quite briefly, of the sound of the wooden leg of her favourite manservant as he not-quite-silently crossed the polished floors of Versailles to bring her another tray of petit fours.