Argument settled

Un jour, une petite fille demande à sa mère : - Dis maman, comment ils sont nés les tout-premiers parents ?
- Et bien, lui répond sa maman, c'est Dieu qui a créé les premiers parents humains, Adam et Eve. Adam et Eve ont eu des enfants qui plus tard sont devenus parents à leur tour et ainsi de suite. C'est ainsi que s'est formée la famille humaine.
Deux jours plus tard, la fillette pose la même question à son père.
Celui-ci lui répond : - Tu vois, il y a des millions d'années, les singes ont évolué lentement jusqu'à devenir les êtres humains que nous sommes aujourd'hui.
La petite fille toute perplexe retourne aussitôt voir sa mère : - Maman ! Comment c'est possible que tu me dises que les premiers parents ont été créés par Dieu et que papa me dise que c'était des singes qui ont évolué ?
La mère lui répond avec un sourire : - C'est très simple ma chérie. Moi je t'ai parlé de ma famille et ton père te parlait de la sienne.

Flood

If you are looking for a nice aquatic home for a goldfish, you could use my kitchen floor. Yes, amici miei, the waste pipe from the washing machine has blocked again, cascading waste water all over the place. But don't worry, the Old Scrote is on the case, using a mixture of chemicals, hot water and curses to clear the blockage. Today I am going Barn Owling again, but on my return, I will again blast water through the pipe, fingers crossed. I hope to be able to report that I am flush with success. Groan.

LA CIGALE ET LA FOURMI, nouvelle version

Sorry about the continuing silences - still battling with a problem or three. In the meantime, enjoy this delicious grump piece (with thanks as ever to Angit for sending it to me)



VERSION SUISSE

La fourmi travaille dur tout l'été dans la canicule
Elle construit sa maison et prépare ses provisions pour l'hiver.
La cigale pense que la fourmi est stupide, elle rit, danse et joue
Une fois l'hiver venu, la fourmi est au chaud et bien nourrie.
La cigale grelottante de froid n'a ni nourriture ni abri, et meurt de froid.

FIN


VERSION FRANCAISE

La fourmi travaille dur tout l'été dans la canicule.
Elle construit sa maison et prépare ses provisions pour l'hiver.
La cigale pense que la fourmi est stupide, elle rit, danse et joue tout l'été.
Une fois l'hiver venu, la fourmi est au chaud et bien nourrie.
La cigale grelottante de froid organise une conférence de presse et demande
pourquoi la fourmi a le droit d'être au chaud et bien nourrie tandis que les
autres, moins chanceux comme elle, ont froid et faim.
La télévision organise des émissions en direct qui montrent la cigale
grelottante de froid et qui passent des extraits vidéo de la fourmi bien au
chaud dans sa maison confortable avec une table pleine de provisions.
Les Français sont frappés que, dans un pays si riche, on laisse souffrir
Cette pauvre cigale tandis que d'autres vivent dans l'abondance.
Les associations contre la pauvreté manifestent devant la maison de la
fourmi.
Les journalistes organisent des interviews, demandant pourquoi la fourmi est
devenue riche sur le dos de la cigale et interpellent le gouvernement pour
augmenter les impôts de la fourmi afin qu'elle paie 'sa juste part'.
La CGT, Le Parti Communiste, la Ligue Communiste Révolutionnaire , les Gay et
Lesbian Pride, organisent seat-ins et manifestations devant la maison de la fourmi.
Les fonctionnaires décident de faire une grève de La Elle
L'ancienne maison de la fourmi, devenue logement social pour la cigale, se
détériore car cette dernière n'a rien fait pour l'entretenir.
Des reproches sont faits au gouvernement pour le manque de moyens.
Une commission d'enquête est mise en place, ce qui coûtera 10 millions d'euros.
La cigale meurt d'une overdose.
Libération et L'Humanité commentent l'échec du gouvernement à redresser
sérieusement le problème des inégalités sociales.
La maison est squattée par un gang de cafards immigrés.
Les cafards organisent un trafic de marijuana et terrorisent la communauté...
Le gouvernement se félicite de la diversité multiculturelle de la France.

FIN

Ou sont les pierres d'autan?

It has been a glorious autumn day - warm, light breeze, fluffy white clouds, welkin as blue as your eyes, and I've been standing in my garden pond for most of it. No, no photographs, it would be too humiliating.
Why, I hear you ask as you begin to wonder if there's anything on television that could tear you away from this blog, why has the Old Scrote been standing in his garden pond? Not only standing in it, dressed in greeen boiler suit and black wellingtons, but bending down and ferreting with his hands under the water. Looking for stones.
You see, mes chers potes, there used to be beautiful mango-shaped boulders around the edge of the pond, and in the chute of the waterfall (to make the cascade more interesting).
And now there are none. They are all in the pond. I am not one to point the accusing finger, but if I ever get to New Zealand, certain young persons had better watch out. In fact, the pond had become so eutrophic that it was effectively dead, so I was already in the process of cleaning it out when the Case of the Missing Boulders arose.
Tomorrow, if the Lord spares me - and the way I smell at the moment, I doubt if He wants me anywhere near Him just now - I will be back there trying to empty the pond of its oily black mud so that I can start afresh in the New Year.
It's good to have a plan.

En vieillissant ...

Another little gem from the indefatigable Angit:-

Un monsieur âgé a un sérieux problème. Il est complètement sourd depuis plusieurs années. Il va voir son médecin qui lui prescrit un nouvel appareil auditif haut de gamme.
Au bout d'un mois, il retourne voir son médecin qui lui dit :
" Votre famille doit être contente de voir que vous entendez très bien ?"
L'homme répond :
" Oh, je n'ai pas encore dit à ma famille que j'avais un appareil. Je ne fais que m'asseoir et écouter les conversations.
J'ai déjà changé trois fois mon testament..."

Rum, sodomy and the lash....

I pinched this from Gavin Corder's blog. As I have missed several of my "Grumpy Old Man" Friday sessions, I thought I would make up for it with this:-

How would Nelson have fared if he had been subject to modern health and safety regulations?

"Order the signal to be sent, Hardy."
"Aye, aye sir."
"Hold on, that's not what I dictated to the signal officer. What's the meaning of this?"
"Sorry sir?"
"England expects every person to do his duty, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, religious persuasion or disability. What gobbledegook is this?"
"Admiralty policy, I'm afraid, sir. We're an equal opportunities employer now. We had the devil's own job getting 'England' past the censors, lest it be considered racist."
"Gadzooks, Hardy. Hand me my pipe and tobacco."
"Sorry sir. All naval vessels have been designated smoke-free working environments."
"In that case, break open the rum ration. Let us splice the main brace to steel the men before battle."
"The rum ration has been abolished, Admiral. It's part of the Government's policy on binge drinking."
"Good heavens, Hardy. I suppose we'd better get on with it. Full speed ahead."
"I think you'll find that there's a 4 knot speed limit in this stretch of water."
"Damn it man! We are on the eve of the greatest sea battle in history. We must advance with all dispatch. Report from the crow's nest, please."
"That won't be possible, sir."
"What?"
"Health and Safety have closed the crow's nest, sir. No harness. And they said that rope ladder doesn't meet regulations. They won't let anyone up there until a proper scaffolding can be erected."
"Then get me the ship's carpenter without delay, Hardy."
"He's busy knocking up a wheelchair access to the fo'c'sle Admiral."
"Wheelchair access? I've never heard anything so absurd."
"Health and Safety again, sir. We have to provide a barrier-free environment for the differently abled."
"Differently abled? I've only one arm and one eye and I refuse even to hear mention of the word. I didn't rise to the rank of admiral by playing the disability card."
"Actually, sir, you did. The Royal Navy is under-represented in the areas of visual impairment and limb deficiency."
"Whatever next? Give me full sail. The salt spray beckons."
"A couple of problems there too, sir. Health and Safety won't let the crew up the rigging without crash helmets. And they don't want anyone breathing in too much salt - haven't you seen the adverts?"
"I've never heard such infamy. Break out the cannon and tell the men to stand by to engage the enemy."
"The men are a bit worried about shooting at anyone, Admiral."
"What? This is mutiny."
"It's not that, sir. It's just that they're afraid of being charged with murder if they actually kill anyone. There's a couple of legal aid lawyers on board, watching everyone like hawks."
"Then how are we to sink the Frenchies and the Spanish?"
"Actually, sir, we're not."
"We're not?"
"No, sir. The Frenchies and the Spanish are our European partners now. According to the Common Fisheries Policy, we shouldn't even be in this stretch of water. We could get hit with a claim for compensation."
"But you must hate a Frenchman as you hate the devil."
"I wouldn't let the ship's diversity co-ordinator hear you saying that sir. You'll be up on a disciplinary charge."
"You must consider every man an enemy who speaks ill of your King."
"Not any more, sir. We must be inclusive in this multicultural age. Now put on your Kevlar vest; it's the rules."
"Don't tell me - Health and Safety. Whatever happened to rum, sodomy and the lash?"
"As I explained, sir, rum is off the menu. And now there's a ban on corporal punishment."
"What about sodomy?"
"I believe it's to be encouraged, sir."
"In that case... kiss me, Hardy."

Engrish

My thanks, as ever, to Angit for directing me to the www.engrish.com website. Go there, blowse yourself all over, and get with happy crap.

Nightjar

My rehabilitator friend, Deborah, faces the biggest challenge yet - to nurse a recently-fledged Nightjar back to health. It is apparently uninjured, but is seriously underweight and seems reluctant to take food. Deborah has tried various insects and insect mixes, and we finally came up with the idea of feeding live insects caught in a mothtrap. The bird still wouldn't voluntarily open its gape for the wriggling prey waved in front of it, but seemed pleased with the prey items once Deborah had forced its gape open. We still don't know if it will pull through, but in the meantime, I can tell you that it is a joyous experience and a privilege to have this bird sitting in the palm of your hand.
Nightjars, closely related to the American Nighthawks, are often known as "goatsuckers" from the age-old belief that their huge gaping bill was designed to enable them to suckle on sheep and goats after dark. I love the Turkish variant - çobanaldatan - which translates as "shepherd deceiver".