Police work

 My thanks to Mrs C for sending me this.

Recently, a female police officer arrested Patrick Lawrence, 22 year old white male, fornicating with a pumpkin in the middle of the night.
The next day, at the Gwinnett County (GA) courthouse, Lawrence was charged with lewd and lascivious behavior, public indecency and public intoxication.
The suspect explained that as he was passing a pumpkin patch on his way home from a drinking session when he decided to stop, 'You know how a pumpkin is soft and squishy inside, and there was no one around for miles or at least I thought there wasn't anyone around' he stated.
Lawrence went on to say that he pulled over to the side of the road, picked out a pumpkin that he felt was appropriate to his purpose, cut a hole in it, and proceeded to satisfy his pressing need. 'Guess I was really into it, you know?' he commented with evident embarrassment.
In the process of doing the deed, Lawrence failed to notice an approaching police car and was unaware of his audience until Officer Brenda Taylor approached him.
'It was an unusual situation, that's for sure,' said Officer Taylor. 'I walked up to Lawrence and he's just banging away at this pumpkin.'
Officer Taylor went on to describe what happened when she approached Lawrence .
'I said: 'Excuse me sir, but do you realize that you're having sex with a pumpkin??'
He froze and was clearly very surprised that I was there, and then he looked me straight in the face and said:
'A pumpkin? Shit ... is it midnight already?'

The Washington Post wrote an article describing this as 'Best come-back line ever.'

Swift Academy

Devon Wildlife Trust have produced a brilliant game called Swift Academy. It's informative and it's fun. Do have a go.

Badger!

A new sight and a thrilling one in the garden this evening. After dark, I sometimes switch on the light that illuminates the back lawn, just in case there's something intertesting out there. This evening, feeding under the plum tree, a badger. It's the first time I've had one in the garden, and it's the closest I've ever been to one. I am not sure what it was feeding on - bits dropped from the bird feeders perhaps - but tomorrow night, if it returns, it will find a decent supper of peanuts and raisins, and possibly a spoonful of Pedigree Chum.

Still aching, still sweating

Latest on the Scrote maladies: after a thorough examination yesterday at the Assessment Clinic, the nice lady came up with the provisional diagnosis that I have "reactive arthritis", which seems to mean that the bad part, the left knee, is causing any arthritis elsewhere in my joints to flare up. Blood tests will confirm her diagnosis, and if she's right, they will put me on some kind of anti-inflammatory treatment, possibly steroids. Better than my doctor's nightmare scenarios of hip and knee replacements. The night sweats continue quite dramatically, record so far: soaked three pairs of pyjamas and six pillows in one night.
Get me the number for the Guinness Book of Records, Jeeves.

[Cartoon courtesy of Fibro of Oz]

Life is just a bowl of fricking cherries

Seeing that I am moreorless confined to barracks at the moment, I scratch around for things to do that won't upset my hips, knees and bumpsadaisy. So I have begun to brave the complexities of my new keyboard. The basic grand piano setting is majestic, even if all I have played so far is the Teddy Bears' Picnic. Beyond that, styles and voices and rhythms and tempi are areas of mystery.
I have resolved to go back to playing from the dots instead of the freewheeling improvisation that is my wont. Then I caught sight of this cartoon.

Anybody want to hear the Teddy Bears' Picnic played in 5/4 time?

Mrs T goes geopolitical

I'm not sure where the good lady finds her information, but she's clearly concerned about the future of North Korea: She writes:
To Kim Jong-il, c/o North Korea
Dear Sir
I read in the paper that you are thinking of retiring from your job as Divine Leader and handing over the post to your son, Un. I have nothing against the boy, though he does look very gormless - a family tray, I assume - but I wonder if you are doing the right thing. I only say this because our village butcher, Dai the Big Chopper, appointed his son Dai the Little Chopper to run the business, and the very next day the poor lad burnt the shop to the ground while trying to set up a celebration firework display in the cooked meats section. It's the sort of thing Un could do if I'm any judge of character.
I wonder whether your eldest son, Nam, might not be a safer choice. I know he's a bit of a villain, but he's the only one in your family that doesn't look as if he's only just learned to walk upright.
Yours respectfully
Blodwen Trellis, Mrs, Widow, retd.

istepne

Savour the word istepne. It is the Turkish for "spare tyre". Now I appreciate that, like the Hungarian legfek (airbrakes), this is a piece of knowledge that you will be hard pressed to find a use for. But, please hear me out.
There is a point when you are getting into a foreign language when you start to get a feel for words that seem "odd". For me, and I cannot tell you why, istepne didn't FEEL Turkish in origin, but that is as far as it went until (thank the Dear for serendipity), I was browsing in Chambers Dictionary t'other day and my eyes lit on the word stepney
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stepney /step'ni/ (old sl) n. a spare wheel (often fig); a mistress, esp that of a white slaver. [Said to be from the name of a street where the wheels were made].
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My cup runneth over.