Given that it’s the season for giving out pointless awards to nonentities Liverpudlian female impersonators, I thought I should be more generous than usual to my fellow man/woman/transvestite/undecided [delete as applicable] and at least try to get into the spirit of the thing.
Therefore I have much pleasure in announcing that the prestigious and coveted Order of the Unicycling Girrafe (O.O.F.T.U.G.) will be awarded to the most interesting/irreverent/daring/gonochoristic [delete as … er … what was the question?] caption to the following scene, observed today at the Maison Des Girrafes:
Don’t look now dear, but there’s a Dark Force of Entropy about to shove its snout right up your arse.
As you see, I’ve given you a helpful suggestion to start you off.
I was a bit worried about the initials of the award there, for a minute.
NO, that isn’t my entry!
My entry is:
Is that a ute or are you just feathering your own nest?
(I anticipate last place for that.)
At last the mystery of who shoots raptors in Sandringham to smear our the name of our noble royal family is out. Gee – to the tower.
Bugger it. Yu can’t edit once you hagve pressed submit.
Let us prey.
“Medic!”
my dog’s got no nose. How does it smell? Fowl.
my dog’s got no nose. How does it smell? Fowl.
“Henry, these Eco-Mo^TM^ units you bought are fakes.”
“I told you we would be safer down at the battery farm.”
Everybody’s bottom is interesting.
Either she’s tickling her fancy, or fancying her tickler.
Well, one or two have forced a wry smile, but nary a titter as yet, still less a hearty guffaw. You can do better, people. You can.
A -dog-cat among the piGEEons, indeed, Henry.
POA! (Preview omission apology)
a
dogcat among the piGEEons is my latest feeble offering.I was a bit worried about the initials of the award there, for a minute.
That therefore means that not so much onto the back burner but into the soil goes:-
*O*rder of (the) *U*nicycling *C*ool *K*oala !!
—
Hogmanay Dec 2006 I did however win two of the three trophies up for grabs at our annual big New Year Party at The Kingy in Glencoe.
The “PRAT” (performance related award trophy) Awards like the OOFTUG’s are quite literally priceless but an honour to be awarded one.
BTW, thanks for the inspiration Henry ahead of PRAT 2008
As to what Heidi was up to, only she nose.
(Turns image through 90 degrees)
In this tense scene from the Norfolk remake of Touching the Void, canine star Heidi employs a pair of bantam crampons to inch her way up the Cromer escarpment.
That’s more like it, folks. Keep it … er … ‘up’.
Just in time Matt – look at that prodigious burrow they were about to fall into without the help of WonderDog Heidi.
“Tune in same-ish time next week for the next episode” – but wait !!
Sources tell me my finger is stuck in my ear but the Press Conference is apparently scheduled for 20.30 GMT (Gee Mean Time).
What would Joanna Spyri have thought? Yodels away!
Please accept my nimble apologies for the very hard to read text. This Steel entity does not have trad “added value”
Heidi however remains the star.
= splorf =
Are you sniffing my van der Waals radii or are you just pleased to see me?
Keep it up, people, this gets better and better. Most cheering, first thing on a Monday morning, even after a Father’s Day in which we spent a glorious morning on the sun-drenched Costa del Cromer, and the girls got me one of these as a present.
Dr Heidi says “Yes, I think I see the problem: You’ve got an orange stuck in your cloaca.”
Barkotics agent Heidi tracks notorious Colombian crack(corn)-smugglers “Los Pollos Malos” to their remote hideout.
Well done, folks. You’re getting into the spirit of things, I see.
Heidi has just told me she wants her own blog.
I thought she had her own blog already, and a handy servant to write her posts for her.
That’s a rather unsightly abscess she’s developed. I ain’t no virologist, but the putrid stench from her Masters
voiceCrocs perhaps??—
And now for something almost completely different but maybe Heidi might appreciate in bloggy doggy terms.
—
A dog is sitting in a cinema with its owner. The dog stares at the screen intently and growls whenever the villain appears and wags its tail whenever the hero comes on. An old lady has been watching the dog’s behaviour. She turns to the owner and says, That’s extraordinary behaviour for a dog. You’re right, says the owner. It is surprising – she hated the book.
Thanks very much – I’ll be here all week….
LOL…
Hmm…. I guess that from this angle it looks like she’s foaming pink candyfloss at the mouth. And those are Mrs Gee’s crocs. Mine look like this
Your doggy tale reminds me of the one in which a trainee guide dog is told that it hasn’t made the grade. “Rover,” the trainer says, “your oral exam was great; your practical just superb. It was the written paper that let you down, mate.”
Henry – while I feel you dismissed the wit and subtlety of my entry so, well, dismissively that I have lost the heart to enter again, I feel this competition is too open. It is in danger of growing flaccid. It needs a deadline to give it a sense of excitment and building tension.
Saturday. Nine o’clock. My place. Mrs Gee is going to the pictures to see Sex and the City, so we can get some beers in.
Wicked. An open party at The Maison Des Girrafes. I might bring along the rest of the crazy gang from Glasgow.
Better be careful such an open invite doesn’t end up like this.
A similar headline would then read:- “Nature Network Crashers Trash British Nature Editor’s House”
That’s a thought, Graham. Some people might actually read this and take it seriously. There’s one born every minute.
I vote for Kristi V.
Trashing “international” Nature editor’s house, please, Graham!
Kristi V’s caption made Mrs Gee laugh out loud, and I wouldn’t dare disagree. So, Kristi V, you get the highly prestigious and coveted Order of the Unicycling Girrafe. This entitles you to a salute of seven guns and to put OOFTUG after your name. Congratulations!!!
Salute Kristi V OOFTUG et al
Rare/Well done
Here’s a sneak peak from the e-after show party from the runner-bean there up (arrange words at the nearest
WallmartSamaritans etc. joke-factory.Woohoo! I had a very uneventful day at work today, setting up a neuroanatomy quiz and preparing a lecture, so it was nice to come home to an award. On teh interwebz, no less!
No guns though, please, unless they’re squirt guns. ;-)
OOFTUG…sounds like a tugboat that bumps into barges or piers or bridge supports, making everyone on board go “OOF!”
@ Graham: to which this can be the only possible response.
@ Kristi: use it wisely, use it well. If modesty forbids parading your OOFTUG among your friends and colleagues (an activity which could threaten tenure), the OOFTUG makes a handy spice rack; a utensil for removing excess nasal hair; or somewhere to park your bike.
@ Kristi, get off that tugboat using your OOFTUG.
@ Henry, yes, I duly admit to the jocundly fact that the link to the ‘Pif Paf Pof’ video taped recording was completely and utterly irrelevant.
As such, I hereby tender my resignation from this thread and will unicycle on my own two feet elsewhere.
Sincerely,
Brigadier G K Steel (Mrs)
Dear Briagdier Steel (Mrs)
Madam, your irrelevant postings are most welcome, in that they add to the general store of human jollity, which can only be a good thing. Besides, I could always do with the comments.
Your servant
Heidi the Dog
And here was I over the weekend reading a puportedly serious book for review, one of whose points is that women (as opposed to men) don’t have a sense of humour.
I think that there is a difference between male and female senses of humour, though how congruent these differences are with gender is an open question. I have a truly marvelous proof of this but this comment is too small to contain it.
Henry – there’s one problem with the ‘Fermat escape clause’ – you now have to die before you can expound on this.
That can be arranged, Brian.
Yesterday I thought I’d made the zoological discovery of the decade, if not the century, if not since the immortal words Ex Ovo, Omnia cascaded from the pen of the mighty William Harvey. On looking into one of the guinea-pig hutches yesterday (the guinea-pigs were mowing the lawn at the time) I discovered an egg. Wow! We’ve always been a bit leery about whether guinea pigs were rodents but now it seems they’re monotremes! I could see it now: papers in
NatureScience, plaudits, accolades and extremely long lunch breaks. But my dreams were shattered this morning when I discovered this:A guinea pig, probably
Well, you’re way ahead of me. One of our new Wyandottes has taken to laying her eggs in the guinea-pig hutch while the legitimate residents are at work. I wouldn’t be surprised if the chickens and guinea-pigs are in it together.
It has not escaped my notice that all our guinea-pigs, not to mention all our chickens, are female. Now, I ask you, is this a case of female multi-tasking, or some strain of female humour that males cannot grasp?
You’d have to ask Maxine.