Am exhausted, sending my manuscript out tomorrow and feeling very very nervous about that, and therefore not wishing to go tamely off to bed and stare at the ceiling thinking about how it’s not good enough…I have no alcohol to celebrate (and put me to sleep, perhaps I should go for the Nyquil?), so I am cheering myself up with silly things I saw on my holiday. One of the best was this…and for my American readers, please believe the authenticity of the image you are about to see…
It is, indeed, a can of Ye Olde Oak (hilarious in itself, no?) American hotdogs…don’t they know that the only things that should go in cans are those little vienna sausages? To be enjoyed in trailer parks everywhere? I took a bunch of photos of crips/ chips as well, such lovely flavours like Prawn Cocktail, roasted chicken with lemon and thyme, teriyaki beef, pork rib, lamb and mint…but I shan’t bore you with those.
Hair straightening comes up next. Now, in most lady’s washrooms in pubs across the land you can buy condoms and tampons…most sensible. But in Pivo Pivo, Glasgow, while you can choose from an amazing selection of fine beers, ales and lagers, you can buy neither. I guess no one’s getting lucky there…Instead, for only a pound, you can get seconds of hair straightening magic…maybe they figured that first priority was to score at all which requires having your hair straightened (that could explain some things about much of my holiday), and then didn’t have room for the condom machine so we shall just hope that the gents are well provided for, I didn’t think to take a peek.
No one told me you had to use one of these for true beauty until the very end of my stay, only think how much better my trip could have been had I only known!
What follows is possibly only funny to me (T thought it was funny as well), but found at Chatlheraut, first a fascinating discussion of
Apparently there are all kinds of “intriguing” and “secret” goings on when no one is looking, or possibly even when you are looking, since would you even know? That’s nothing to what’s going on in the frank discussion of Chatlheraut’s herbaceous borders…I have a picture but am suddenly realizing that I have no idea why I think the words herbaceous borders are funny…possibly because herbaceous borders rhymes with curvaceous borders which just sounds naughty? Perhaps it’s not funny at all, in which case I beg your pardon.
Place names, on the way to the wedding in Cumbria we passed Wigglesworth and Giggleswick, and I heard a tale of a small town called Piddle and the nearby village of Little Piddle…could be apocryphal but since it was Mrs. Burt told me, and she’s at least 80 years old and brilliant, I very much doubt it. Also passed this sign:
The amazing village of Dull with its wild Highland Safari…can’t think of what was there, since we had left Hamish the wild Hielan Coo about 50 miles in the opposite direction. Castle Menzies was a few miles away, where they had this facsinating exhibit:
The judicious hooker’s ecclesiastical polity…apparently even the hookers were dull in 1666, or did Dull have it’s more exciting side?
Well, that’s it for the photos, but I found one last splendid laugh in Bradford-on-Avon, in the small second hand bookshop right behind my great-aunt’s house…a pamphlet, for the extraordinarily affordable price of 50p, “Constipation and Common Sense.” I do not know when it was written, but it originally sold for the price of 2 shillings, and it’s author, Cyril Scott, also wrote a fine treatise called “Crude Black Molasses” which, unfortunately, was unknown to the book store owner. I shall share with you one of the opening paragraphs:
“Roughly speaking, there are three kinds of constipated people; those who don’t care whether they are constipated or not, and so do nothing about it; those who say, “what does it matter? I always take some medicine”; and those who are constantly worrying over it…”
I shall leave you to ponder into which category you fall…but apparently constipation generally results from an absolute lack of commonsense, so go forth and find some, and you shall be cured! Just don’t eat 20 apples all at once, swallow a bottle of cider vinegar, or eat bran for every meal, a “disastrous folly” in Mr. Scott’s considered medical opinion…