Hoy ya hammer ower, hinny...

Shop assistant: D'you need any help, there?
Me (hearing the accent): Where are you from?
SA (surprised): Washington.
Me (pleased): I'm from Blyth.
SA (ecstatic): Eee, ya never! Wey ya bugger. What you doin' heeya?
Me (switches into broad Geordie) : Aam studyin' for a yur. Ah live in France now, like.
SA: Me husband's in thu Armee. Wuv just bort a hoose. ah said, wu cud a bort a palass for that up north, like.
Me: One a me friends is from Santropay, when ah went ah said, corl that a beach? They're much betta back hjem, but there's nee bugger on them, its too cad.
SA: What's France like?
Me: Aw, divven't start us off.

Racing sheeps by Flemish beavers

Professor (with foreign/US accent)..unlike in earlier times, when the country's political economy relied on traditional activities like racing sheeps by Flemish beavers...
Me (daydreaming happily away): What? Pardon?
Professor: I said, in earlier times, political economy was based on traditional industries like raising sheep by Flemish weavers.

It's the wrong lecture, Gromit..

Professor: Right, if you will all please turn to the part on covenant law, jurisdiction and compensation, you will find that in the case of Smith v. Bloggs in 1904, the shop owners had in fact...blah..blah..(drones on)

Me(thinks): hmmmmm I am in the WRONG LECTURE (surreptitiously glances around) but there are lots of people here and I am too lazy* to move so maybe I will just sit here for the hour and read my book on democracy..



*intimidated

Flower Power

Fierce-looking security guard at kitchen door: Are you in Flat A?
Me(in penguins, waiting for porridge to heat up): No, I'm in B. (gets curious) Why?
FLSG: There's some flowers here, been delivered for Flat A.
Me: Oh! (senses opportunity for mischief) In THAT case, I AM in Flat A..(tries winning smile)
FLSG: Get outta here. (chucks tissue at me)