I've recently joined a dating website and I received the following email from someone who I think is a man:
HELLO.
MY NAME IS
FRANK
FROM NIG.
i am frank, son of governor of lagos state of nig.
i am looking for any bank manager over there to contact i want to
have savice acconut over there i am coming over there soon to stay
and invest my money be fore then i need a bank manager that i can
have his acconut number let me transfer all my money to him for my
savice accont over there before i come over there pls if ur a bank
manager and you can do if for me pls contact me by mail or phoen
number(+2348030535289)i have ($1,hundredand fiftymillion) to transfer
to you 4 my starting savice acconut over there so contact me let us ga2
talk about it
so bye and god bless you from fr.son.
And then the following day I got the same email. He hasn't sent a photo. Do you think he's actually emailing all the women on that website? Do you think he's faithful to me?
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Susie Moonhowler, BSc (Hons)
xxx
Sunday, 20 March 2011
Monday, 14 March 2011
Magical Force Field around My Car!
Well - today I found that there was an uncanny, mystical force which surrounded my motor. Whenever I (or rather the car, with me at the helm) approached a green traffic light, it would hurriedly go amber, then quickly red - AND STAY LIKE THAT FOR EXTENDED PERIODS OF TIME!!! I noticed this weird phenomenon no fewer than 62 times before I jolly well got fed up and jumped a red light. Fnarr.
Here is a picture of a car which looks a bit like mine, but much cleaner. And without all the maps, I expect.
Here is a picture of a car which looks a bit like mine, but much cleaner. And without all the maps, I expect.
Sunday, 13 March 2011
Illustration Friday - Stir!!!
You really shouldn't be stirring things up with a man carrying a custard pie ...
cripes, this colour scheme's terrible. Must do something quick!
Wednesday, 9 March 2011
Dear Agony Auntie,
I recently had a male visitor to my bedroom, who later claimed to have left a sock there. I don't understand why he felt the need to remove his socks in the first place, but there you are.
He suggested that the errant sock may have escaped to under my chest of drawers, so I checked under that item of furniture. No sock, but I found a French maid's pinny and a pair of fishnet tights under there.
Should I be worried?
Yours,
Suzette Crepe, OBE
xxx
He suggested that the errant sock may have escaped to under my chest of drawers, so I checked under that item of furniture. No sock, but I found a French maid's pinny and a pair of fishnet tights under there.
Should I be worried?
Yours,
Suzette Crepe, OBE
xxx
Tuesday, 1 March 2011
For all you who go to ceilidhs, call at ceilidhs or simply listened to Marillion's 'Kayleigh' when you were an angst-ridden adolescent ...
Here are some helpful hints for blokes at ceilidhs (originally published in Foghorn, you can get your very own, totally advert-free edition by contacting person or persons unknown at: foghorn@procartoonists.org) (guaranteed no adverts) (apart from silly ones).
Anyway, back to the helpful hints:
A ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee, not see-lid) is probably your only opportunity of practising the folk dance of these isles without getting into dubious practices involving virgins, May Day mornings and white cockerels, so go for it!
You might wind up at one of these having seen it advertised as a barn dance, but you must resist the temptation to dress up in a cowboy hat. Especially if you’re not wearing anything else; people will only laugh at you. Pay special attention to footwear, too. Socks with sandals would be a safe bet; flip flops and/or stiletto heels are a no-no.
You will arrive at a hall or scout hut, with a stage containing a ‘band’ and a ‘caller’. If the band are proper folkies, they will somehow contrive to be both hairy AND balding, and should sport impressive beer guts - putting you in mind of those mythical characters whose belts could encircle the globe. The caller is there to tell you what to do, dictate every move of the dance, how many people you should dance with and all that stuff. Little Hitlers of this kind can be safely ignored. Most of your fellow dancers will.
Firstly, have a beer. If you’re taking this folky stuff seriously, have another. You’ll normally be doing this stuff with a partner. If you haven’t brought your own, just nick someone else’s. Then you’ll be a couple. You could be a first couple or a second couple, or a third couple or fourth couple. Or a head couple or a side couple. Or a top couple or a bottom couple. Or you could be in a line of 40 couples featuring only first and second couples. Confused? Better have another beer.
Then you’ll find that you’re expected to dance with other couples. The ‘man’ from the other couple may turn out to be a 17-year old girl wearing a tartan miniskirt, a string vest and a pair of wellingtons. Just get over it, right? (A beer will help). You’ll find that some dances require you to do specific steps – the one that goes ‘Shuffle-shuffle-shuffle’ is a waltz step, for example, or there’s a hop-step. This one goes hop-step-hop-step, or alternatively step-hop-step-hop. Whichever step you’re doing – look around and you will see approximately 14 variations on it, so see if you can add your own. Don’t take any notice of the music, which is only there to boss you about. And have a beer.
Then, when you’ve been through the ordeal once, you’ll have to do it all over again with a different bunch of people, just when you had sort of got the hang of it with the last lot. Best have another beer – it’s only being sociable. You may need to listen to other instructions, but even if the caller gives the order: ‘Swing!’ remember not to attempt to mate with anyone else on the dance floor.
All this beer will greatly help your confidence, co-ordination and control. As you become more adept at the contact sport that is the ceilidh, you may wish to sound knowledgeable. This can be achieved by sitting in a corner, grinning beatifically at all around and muttering things like ‘longways set’, ‘strip the willow’ and ‘six hand reel’ under your breath; at this stage, there’s no need to attempt to do any more of this dancing which is only likely to ruin your hair do. You may have found that your fellow dancers have been tutting at you and rolling their eyes, so – next time, book a course of ten salsa lessons. That’ll show them!
Anyway, back to the helpful hints:
A ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee, not see-lid) is probably your only opportunity of practising the folk dance of these isles without getting into dubious practices involving virgins, May Day mornings and white cockerels, so go for it!
You might wind up at one of these having seen it advertised as a barn dance, but you must resist the temptation to dress up in a cowboy hat. Especially if you’re not wearing anything else; people will only laugh at you. Pay special attention to footwear, too. Socks with sandals would be a safe bet; flip flops and/or stiletto heels are a no-no.
You will arrive at a hall or scout hut, with a stage containing a ‘band’ and a ‘caller’. If the band are proper folkies, they will somehow contrive to be both hairy AND balding, and should sport impressive beer guts - putting you in mind of those mythical characters whose belts could encircle the globe. The caller is there to tell you what to do, dictate every move of the dance, how many people you should dance with and all that stuff. Little Hitlers of this kind can be safely ignored. Most of your fellow dancers will.
Firstly, have a beer. If you’re taking this folky stuff seriously, have another. You’ll normally be doing this stuff with a partner. If you haven’t brought your own, just nick someone else’s. Then you’ll be a couple. You could be a first couple or a second couple, or a third couple or fourth couple. Or a head couple or a side couple. Or a top couple or a bottom couple. Or you could be in a line of 40 couples featuring only first and second couples. Confused? Better have another beer.
Then you’ll find that you’re expected to dance with other couples. The ‘man’ from the other couple may turn out to be a 17-year old girl wearing a tartan miniskirt, a string vest and a pair of wellingtons. Just get over it, right? (A beer will help). You’ll find that some dances require you to do specific steps – the one that goes ‘Shuffle-shuffle-shuffle’ is a waltz step, for example, or there’s a hop-step. This one goes hop-step-hop-step, or alternatively step-hop-step-hop. Whichever step you’re doing – look around and you will see approximately 14 variations on it, so see if you can add your own. Don’t take any notice of the music, which is only there to boss you about. And have a beer.
Then, when you’ve been through the ordeal once, you’ll have to do it all over again with a different bunch of people, just when you had sort of got the hang of it with the last lot. Best have another beer – it’s only being sociable. You may need to listen to other instructions, but even if the caller gives the order: ‘Swing!’ remember not to attempt to mate with anyone else on the dance floor.
All this beer will greatly help your confidence, co-ordination and control. As you become more adept at the contact sport that is the ceilidh, you may wish to sound knowledgeable. This can be achieved by sitting in a corner, grinning beatifically at all around and muttering things like ‘longways set’, ‘strip the willow’ and ‘six hand reel’ under your breath; at this stage, there’s no need to attempt to do any more of this dancing which is only likely to ruin your hair do. You may have found that your fellow dancers have been tutting at you and rolling their eyes, so – next time, book a course of ten salsa lessons. That’ll show them!
Sunday, 27 February 2011
Dear Agony Auntie,
I have three arms, but that hasn't stopped me from wanting to become an international porn star. I'm not sure how to get started though.
My ex-boyfriend is a complete creep and I'm sure would share photos of me all over the internet to get revenge - if only he had any. Should I send him some anonymously in the hope that he does this? Or do you think he'd be more likely to get revenge by fastening them to a dart board?
Finally, can you 'airbrush' out a third arm using Photoshop Elements 2?
My ex-boyfriend is a complete creep and I'm sure would share photos of me all over the internet to get revenge - if only he had any. Should I send him some anonymously in the hope that he does this? Or do you think he'd be more likely to get revenge by fastening them to a dart board?
Finally, can you 'airbrush' out a third arm using Photoshop Elements 2?
Friday, 25 February 2011
The effects of music on plant growth
We've known for ages that music helps plants to grow, and even proper scientists what with their grubby white coats, tests tubes, labs, Cat scans and stuff don't really know why. However, not everyone's so sure. Fergus Tiptop of Penge has written:
'Someone told me that playing music to plants makes them grow better, but actually it's a load of codswallop. I've tried talking to plants and that doesn't work either. Why, I was making encouraging noises to my vegetable patch and even playing it highlights from Beethoven's 5th - when my neighbours called the police. I thought it might work better with indoor plants but I'm having problems parking a 45' privet hedge in my living room. Once again, the so-called experts get it wrong!'
However, Delphinia Spragg from Pratt's Bottom has a different perspective on this issue:
'Not only can music make plants grow better, but I'm convinced that music can turn people into plants. My 17-year-old listens to that awful music through his headphones during all two of his waking hours and is looking more and more like a cabbage every day!'
'Someone told me that playing music to plants makes them grow better, but actually it's a load of codswallop. I've tried talking to plants and that doesn't work either. Why, I was making encouraging noises to my vegetable patch and even playing it highlights from Beethoven's 5th - when my neighbours called the police. I thought it might work better with indoor plants but I'm having problems parking a 45' privet hedge in my living room. Once again, the so-called experts get it wrong!'
However, Delphinia Spragg from Pratt's Bottom has a different perspective on this issue:
'Not only can music make plants grow better, but I'm convinced that music can turn people into plants. My 17-year-old listens to that awful music through his headphones during all two of his waking hours and is looking more and more like a cabbage every day!'
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)