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Alphabatics: A compendium of quaint and quizzical quirks contrived to cultivate the quintessence of curious comedy. LADDLE RAT ROTTEN HUT Warts pawn term dare worsted ladle gull hoe lift wetter murder inner ladle cordage honor itch offer lodge dock florist. Disc ladle gull orphan worry ladle cluck wetter putty ladle rat hut, end fur disc raisin pimple caulder ladle rat rotten hut. Wan moaning rat rotten hut's murder colder inset: Ladle rat rotten hut, heresy ladle basking winsome burden barter and shirker cockies. Tick disc ladle basking tudor cordage offer groin murder hoe lifts honor udder stie offer florist. Shaker lake, kun stopper laundry wrote, end yonder nor sorgum stenches dun stopper laundry torque wet strainers.� Hoe-cake, murder, "resplendent ladle rat rotten hut, end tickle ladle basking an sturred oft. Honor wrote tudor cordage offer groin murder, ladle rat rotten hut mitten anomalous woof. "Wail, wail, wail, set disc wicket woof, evanescent ladle rat rotten hut! Wares or putty ladle gull goring wizard ladle basking?" "Armor goring tumor groin murder�s,� resprisal ladle pull." Grammars seeking bet. Armor ticking arson burden barter end shirker cockles. "O hoe! Heifer blessing woke,� setter wicket woof, butter taught tomb shelf, �Oil tickle shirt court tudor cordage offer groin murder. Oil ketchup wetter letter, an den-O bore!" Soda wicket woof tucker shirt court, end whinney retched a cordage offer groin murder, picket inner window an dore debtor port oil worming worse lion inner bet. Inner flesh disc abdominal woof lipped honor betting adder rope. Zany pool daown a groin murder�s nut cup an gnat gun, and curdle dope inner bet. Inner ladle wile ladle rat rotten hut a raft attar cordage an ranker dough ball. "Comb ink, sweat hard," setter wucjet wiifm dusgracubg us verse, Kadke rat ritten hut entity bet rum end stud buyer groin murder's bet. "Oh grammar," crater ladle gull, "Wart bad icer gut! A nervous sausage bag ice!" Butter lucky chew whiff, doling," whiskered dosc rachet woof, wetter wicket small. "Oh grammar, water bag noise! A nervous sore suture anomalous prognosis!" "Buttered small your whiff,� inserter woof, ants mouse worse wadding. "Oh grammar, water bad mousey gut! A nervous sore suture bag mouse!" Daze worry on forger nut gull's lest warts. Oil bet, disc cud an bloat Thursday woof ceased pore ladle rat rotten hut an garbled erupt. Mural: Yonder nor surghym stenches shud ladle gulls topper torque wet strainers. This is dedicated to the grandmother of my children aka �the dragon� Poof, here comes the manic dragon. Puff, the manic dragon, lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Hamolee. Little Niki Paper loved that rascal Puff ( o Y o ) And brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff, oh Puff, the manic dragon, lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Hamolee. Puff, the manic dragon, lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Homolee. Together they would travel on boat with billowed sail Niki kept a lookout perched on Puff's gigantic tail Noble kings and princes would bow whene'er they came Pirate ships would lower their flags when Puff roared out his name, oh CHORUS A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys Painted wings and giants's rings make way for other toys. One grey night it happened, Niki Paper came no more And Puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar. His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane. Without his lifelong friend, Puff could not be brave So, Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave, oh CHORUS Cheyenne proverb A nation is not conquered until the hearts of its women Are on the ground Then it is done, no matter How brave its warriors Nor how strong its weapons The Pheasant Plucking Song (ORIGINAL) I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a pheasant plucker's son I'm only plucking pheasants 'till the pheasant plucker comes. Me husband is a keeper, he's a very busy man I try to understand him and I help him all I can, But sometimes in an evening I feel a trifle dim All alone, I'm plucking pheasants, when I'd rather pluck with him. I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a pheasant plucker's mate I'm only plucking pheasants 'cos the pheasant plucker's late ! I'm not good at plucking pheasants, at pheasant plucking I get stuck Though some pheasants find it pleasant I'd rather pluck a duck. Oh plucking geese is gorgeous, I can pluck a goose with ease But pheasant plucking's torture because they haven't any grease. I'm not a pheasant plucker, he has gone out on the tiles He only plucked one pheasant and I'm sitting here with piles ! You have to pluck them fresh, if it�s fresh they�re not unpleasant, I knew a man in Dunstable who could pluck a frozen pheasant. They say the village constable had pheasant plucking sessions With the vicar on a Sunday �tween the first and second lessons. I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a pheasant plucker's mum I'm only plucking pheasants 'till the pheasant plucker's come. My good friend Godfrey is most adept, he's really got the knack He likes to have a pheasant plucked before he hits the sack. I like to give a helping hand, I gather up the feathers, It's really all our pheasant plucking keeps us pair together. I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a pheasant plucker's friend I'm only plucking pheasants as a means unto an end ! My husband's in the forest always banging with his gun If he could hear me half the time I'm sure that he would run, For there's fluff in all my crannies, there�s feather up my nose And I'm itching in the kitchen from my head down to my toes. I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a pheasant plucker's wife And when we pluck together it's a pheasant plucking life ! The Pheasant Plucking Song (NEW AND IMPROVED) I'm a mother pheasant plucker. I pluck mother pheasants. I'm the most pleasant mother pheasant plucker to pluck a mother pheasant. I�m not the pheasant plucker, I'm the pheasant plucker's son and I'll be plucking mother pheasants till the pheasant plucking's done. Whitu & Rangi Whitu decided to call the police. He dialled 111��Hello, are yous the police?� �Yes sir, how may we help you?� �I�m calling to report about my neighbour Rangi. He�s hiding marijuana inside his firewood, eh� �Thank you for calling sir�. The next day the police raided Rangi�s house and they searched the shed where the firewood was kept. Using axes they busted open every piece of firewood but found no marijuana. After awhile they gave up looking and left. Next thing the phone rang at Rangi�s �Hey cuz!, Whitu here. Did the cops come?� �Yeah cuz� �Did they chop your firewood?� �Yeah!!!� �Ahh, Kapai, Happy birthday Bro� Diary of a working mother 12.20am Baby wakes for feed. Read yesterday that 65 per cent of babies aged six moths sleep through the night. Am failure of a mother. Decide to be firmer. 1.40am Toddler wakes up. �Hurts!� she says, pointing to scar size of pinhead on her leg made by mosquito about, oh seven months ago. �Tiss it better!� I kiss it better. Fall back into bed. How come her father never hears her? Is sleeping like a baby. 3.40am Baby wakes for another feed. Will buy Babywise book in the morning. 6.25am Wake to Miss Toddler shouting �Daddy! Daddy!� Stagger bearily into her bedroom. She looks at me as if to say, �you�ll have to do� and collects up the five dummies, rag doll. Po, small plastic duck and toy elephant she can�t live without. Toss all into bed with her father who groans under duvet. Have 10 minutes complete peace at kitchen table, but can just hear, �More book, Daddy! Read more, Daddy!� Revenge sweet, coffee delicious. 7.25am Miss toddler sitting on the toilet for 10 minutes reading Little Treasures. Reading on toilet must be generic. 8.10am Miss Toddler decides to dress self � drapes Teletubbies T-shirt on head and adds another pair of socks. Interesting, novel appearance, like cross between fashion icon, Muslim cleric and Cher on a bad day. 8.30am Baby and toddler at cr�che. Am model of working mother: efficient, on time, and dressed in black trousers, with gorgeous white shirt from Max. 10am How did client know I am a mother? Have checked � no wet patches on shirt, no baby sick in hair, no breast pad sticking out of shirtsleeve. Puzzling. 11am Behaved v. professionally in departmental meeting. Had disagreement with colleague who is total prat. Made cleaver, cutting reply followed by dignified and graceful exit. Ha! 11.30am Locked in toilets. Play dough on trousers the size of Australia�.Aaagh! 12.20pm The many changing faces of motherhood. Ten minutes ago resembled cross between ultimate sex symbol and cartoon character, now locked in office, armed with buzzing breast pump, resemble.. well, can�t bear to think about it. 3pm Pick up baby and Miss Toddler. Baby goes into manic starvation routing, trying to pull and/or suck breasts out of gorgeous (wet) shirt. Toddler appears to have been bathed in blue paint and dipped in vat of glitter. Gorgeous Max shirt now also covered in saliva and milky patches. 3.10pm Wrestle children into car. Car cannot be damaged by blue-glitter girl, since already resembles rubbish container. 3.15 Home. Unpack. All collapse in front of Playschool video. A v. bad mother. Babies need quality time. 5.30pm Put baby into the bouncer. Miss Toddler bounces her off wall. �Stop it!� I cry. �Silly Mamma� growls Miss Toddler, �I a tiger!� Bouncing baby laughs manically at tiger/sister. Starts growling too. 5.50pm �Daddy home!� screams Miss Toddler, leaping into his arms. �You won�t believe the day I�ve had� he says, crashing on to couch. Takes on look at my face as I mouli potatoes and says no more. 6.30pm Baby conduction experiment to see how far Marmite can be spread. Should I tell Plunket nurse Miss Toddler only ever eats sauceless pasta and Weet-Bix? 8.30pm Survive bath, hair washing, teeth cleaning, end-of-day breastfeeding, reading of seven books, search for plastic duck, the dishes, the tidy up. Wish was Catherine Zeta Jones and could say, �Take the children to bed please, Nanny. �Life v. unfair. 9pm House so quiet. Like paradise. Too tired to move. 9.50pm Vaguely familiar man in my bed cuddles up. He can�t be serious. Can�t even remember what goes where. 9.52pm Mmmmm. Maybe can remember. Nice man, warm bed� mmmm� 9.53pm No, no, no! Baby wakes for feed. Her father beating head (his not hers) against pillow and groaning. Will buy Babywise book tomorrow. Definitely. Routine the only answer. Sundial Inscription Time is���.. Too slow For those who wait. Too swift For those who fear. Too long For those who grieve. Too short For those who rejoice But for those Who love, Time is��� Eternity. Hours fly, flowers die, New days, new ways Pass by. Love stays DANCE LIKE NO-ONE IS WATCHING We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, then another. Then we are frustrated that the kids aren�t old enough and we�ll be more content when they are. After that, we�re frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with. We will certainly be happy when they are out of this stage. We tell ourselves that life will be complete when our spouse gets his or her act together, when we get a nicer car, are able to go on a nice vacation when we retire. The truth is there�s no better time to be happy than right now. If not now, when? Your life will always be filled with challenges. It�s best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway. One of my favourite quotes comes from Alfred D Sougai he said, �For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin � real life. But always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a dept to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life�. This perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure you every moment with someone special, special enough to spend your time�and remember time waits for no one, but if that someone special cannot be held let them go�.for you to once again find your happiness..You cannot hold something that is no longer there. So stop waiting until you finish school, until you go back to school, until you loose ten pounds, until you gain ten pounds, until you have kids, until the kids leave the house, until you gain ten pounds, until you have kids, until the kids leave the house, until you start work, until you retire, until you get married, until you get divorced, until Friday night, until Saturday night, until that first drink, until you sober up, until you get a care, until you buy a house, until you are born again to decide there is no better time than right now to be happy�. Happiness is a journey not a destination. So, Work like you don�t need the money Love like you have never been hurt And Dance like no one is watching He Puru Taitama Originally a young man's lusty courtship song. The first verse is now a cheeky party song. By Kingi Tahiwi. Mos def a family fav. He p�ru taitama e He p�ru taitama hoki! He p�ru taitama He p�ru tukituki He p�ru taitama e. Ka haere t�ua e Ki runga Otaki hoki? Kei reira t�ua whaka-rite-rite ai whaka-oti-oti ai e. English Translation (I'm) a strong young man! A real young bull! A vigourous lad! A rampaging bull! A husky young man! (How about) you and I going up above Otaki or even further? After that the two of us can figure outhow things will end up. Te Purerehua � Dr Hirini Melbourne My Sons favourite song. Chorus P�rerehua rere runga hau Papaki parirau Rere runga hau (Ka piki, ka piki Runga rawa e Papaki parirau rere runga hau.) x 2 1. Ka tau, ka tau Runga p��wai Ka wh�nauhua A p�rerehua. Katahi, ka rua Ka toru, ka wha Ka r�, ka r� Ka puta e wh� wh� 2. Ka kai, ka kai Ka pau ng� rau Ka huri ng� wh� Hei t�ngoungou Ka pata ki waho He �poko nui He waewae roa He parikau pakipaki R� r� r� r� ru ru r� Chorus P�rerehua rere runga hau Papaki parirau Rere runga hau Papaki parirau Rere runga hau P�rerehu--a Rere runga hau P�rerehu---a The coffee jar and 2 cups of coffee... When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the coffee jar and 2 cups of coffee... A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty coffee jar and proceeded to fill it with golf bass. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was. The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous �yes.� The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed. �Now,� said the professor, as the laughter subsided �I want you to recognise that this jar represents your life.� "The golf balls are the important things - your God, your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favourite passions � things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car. The sand is everything else � the small stuff. "If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for your life. If you spend all your time and every on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.� "Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand." One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled, "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend." FOR THOSE BORN BEFORE 1986 According to today's regulators and bureaucrats, those of us who were kids in the 60's, 70's and early 80's probably shouldn't have survived, because our baby cots were covered with brightly coloured lead-based paint which was promptly chewed and licked. We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, or latches on doors or cabinets and it was fine to play with pans. When we rode our bikes, we wore no helmets, just flip-flops and fluorescent 'spokey dokey's' on our wheels. As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or airbags riding in the passenger seat was a treat. We drank water from the garden hose and not from a bottle and it tasted the same. We ate chips, bread and butter pudding and drank fizzy juice with sugar in it, but we were never overweight because we were always outside playing. We shared one drink with four friends, from one bottle or can and no one actually died from this. We would spend hours building go-carts out of scraps and then went top speed down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into stinging nettles a few times, we learned to solve the problem. We would leave home in the morning and could play all day, as long as we were back before it got dark. No one was able to reach us and no one minded. We did not have Play stations or X-Boxes, no video games at all. No 99 channels on TV, no videotape movies, no surround sound, no mobile phones, no personal computers, no DVDs, no Internet chat rooms. We had friends - we went outside and found them. We played elastics and rounders, and sometimes that ball really hurt! We fell out of trees, got cut, and broke bones but there were no lawsuits. We had full on fistfights but no prosecution followed from other parents. We played knock-the-door-run-away and were actually afraid of the owners catching us. We walked to friends' homes. We also, believe it or not, WALKED to school; we didn't rely on mummy or daddy to drive us to school, which was just round the corner. We made up games with sticks and tennis balls. We rode bikes in packs of 7 and wore our coats by only the hood. The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke a law was unheard of...they actually sided with the law. This generation has produced some of the best risk-takers and problem solvers and inventors, ever. The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to deal with it all. Pass this on to others who have had the luck to grow as real kids,before lawyers and government regulated our lives, for our own good. For those of you who aren't old enough, thought you might like to read about us. This my friends, is surprisingly frightening......and it might put a smile on your face: The majority of students in universities today were born in 1986........they are called youth. They have never heard of We are the World, We are the children, and the Uptown Girl they know is by Westlife not Billy Joel. They have never heard of Rick Astley, Bananarama, Nena Cherry or Belinda Carlisle. For them, there has always been only one Germany and one Vietnam. AIDS has existed since they were born. CD's have existed since they were born. Michael Jackson has always been white. To them John Travolta has always been round in shape and they can't imagine how this fat guy could be a god of dance. They believe that Charlie's Angels and Mission Impossible are films from last year. They can never imagine life before computers. They'll never have pretended to be the A-Team, the Dukes of Hazard or the Famous Five. They'll never have applied to be on Don't just sit there! or W3 ? They can't believe a black and white television ever existed. And they will never understand how we could leave the house without a mobile phone. Now let's check if we're getting old... 1. You understand what was written above and you smile. 2. You need to sleep more, usually until the afternoon, after a night out. 3. Your friends are getting married/already married. 4. You are always surprised to see small children playing comfortably with computers. 5. When you see children with mobile phones, you shake your head. 6. You remember watching Dirty Den in EastEnders the first time around. 7. You meet your friends from time to time, talking about the Good Old Days, repeating again all the funny things you have experienced together. The Lions (July 2005 Tour of New Zeland) A seven year old boy was at the centre of a courtroom drama today when he challenged a court ruling over who should have custody of him. The boy has a history of being beaten by his parents and the judge awarded custody to his aunt. The boy however confirmed that his aunt beat him more than his parents and refused to live there. When the judge suggested that he live with his grandparents the boy cried out that they beat him more than anyone. Then in an unprecedented move, the judge dramatically allowed the boy to choose who should have custody of him. In a final ruling yesterday, custody was granted to the British & Irish Lions Rugby Team as the boy firmly believes that they are not capable of beating anyone. Women Drivers Driving to a meeting in Auckland this morning on the Harbour Bridge, I looked over to my left and there was a woman in abrand new Mazda 6 doing 120km/h with her face up next to the rear view mirror putting on her eyeliner! I looked away for a couple of seconds and when I looked back she was halfway over in my lane, still working on her damn makeup! I'm a man, but it scared me so bad, I dropped my electric shaver, which knocked the sandwich out of my other hand. In all the confusion of trying to straighten out the car using my knees against the steering wheel, it knocked my cell phone away from my ear, which fell into the coffee between my legs, splashed and burned "Big Jim and the Twins" ruined the phone, put out my cigarette, and disconnected an important call!!! DAMN WOMEN DRIVERS!! What Do Women Really Want Young King Arthur was ambushed and imprisoned by the monarch of a neighbouring kingdom. The monarch could have killed him, but was moved by Arthur's youthful happiness. So he offered him freedom, as long as he could answer a very difficult question. Arthur would have a year to figure out the answer; but, if, after a year, he still had no answer, he would be killed. The question was: What do women really want? Such a question would perplex even the most knowledgeable man, and, to young Arthur, it seemed an impossible query. Since it was better than death, however, he accepted the monarch's proposition to have an answer by year's end. He returned to his kingdom and began to poll everybody: The princess, the prostitutes, the priests, the wise men, the court jester. In all, he spoke with everyone but no one could give him a satisfactory answer. What most people did tell him was to consult the old witch, as only she would know the answer. The price would be high, since the witch was famous throughout the kingdom for the exorbitant prices she charged. The last day of the year arrived and Arthur had no alternative but to talk to the witch. She agreed to answer his question, but he'd have to accept her price first: The old witch wanted to marry Gawain, the most noble of the Knights of the Round Table and Arthur's closest friend! Young Arthur was horrified: She was hunchbacked and awfully hideous, had only one tooth, smelled like sewage water, often made obscene noises. He had ever run across such a repugnant creature. He refused to force his friend to marry her and have to endure such a burden. Gawain, upon learning of the proposal, spoke with Arthur. He told him that nothing was too big of a sacrifice compared to Arthur's life and the preservation of the Round Table. He relented, their wedding was proclaimed, and the witch answered Arthur's question: What a woman really wants is to be able to be in charge of her own life. Everyone instantly knew that the witch had uttered a great truth and that Arthur's life would be spared. And so it went. The neighbouring monarch spared Arthur's life and granted him total freedom. What a wedding Gawain and the witch had! Arthur was torn between relief and anguish. Gawain was proper as always, gentle and courteous. The old witch put her worst manners on display. She ate with her hands, belched and farted, and made everyone uncomfortable. The wedding night approached: Gawain, steeling himself for a horrific night, entered the bedroom. What a sight awaited! The most beautiful woman he'd ever seen lay before him! Gawain was astounded and asked what had happened The beauty replied that since he had been so kind to her (when she'd been a witch), half the time she would be her horrible, deformed self, and the other half, she would be her beautiful maiden self. Which would he want her to be during the day and which during the night? What a cruel question! Gawain began to think of his predicament: During the day a beautiful woman to show off to his friends, but at night, in the privacy of his home, an old spooky witch? Or would he prefer having by day a hideous witch, but by night a beautiful woman to enjoy many intimate moments? Noble Gawain replied that he would let her choose for herself. Upon hearing this, she announced that she would be beautiful all the time, because he had respected her and had let her be in charge of her own mind. What is the moral of this story? The moral is that it doesn't matter if your woman is pretty or ugly, smarter or dumb Underneath it all she�s still a witch. And if you try to control her life, things will get ugly! Out Ranked An airline's passenger cabin was being served by an obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to put everyone in a good mood as he served them food and drinks. As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and announced to the passengers, "Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he'll be landing the big scary plane shortly, so lovely people, if you could just put your trays up, that would be super." On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed a well-dressed rather exotic looking woman hadn't moved a muscle. "Perhaps you didn't hear me over those big brute engines. I asked you to raise your trazy-poo, so the main man can pitty-pat us on the ground." She calmly turned her head and said, "In my country, I am called a Princess. I take orders from no one." To which the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat, "Well, sweet-cheeks in my country I'm called a Queen, so I out rank you." "Tray-up, Bitch". |