Need-to-know basis

Colleague: When's Mister?
Me: No, Westminster.
Colleague: Wents Missing?
Me: No, Westminster.

One for the Frenchies

(Notice on back of hotel room door):

Supplement pet      15 euros

I know quite a few people who would end up with a very big bill here.

For those who don't know...pet means furry animal in English, but FART in French...)

Itth all jutht too much

Me: I've got some bad news for you.
French colleague: Wet?
Me: Guess who is top of the list of nominees for the Nobel Prize for Literature?
FC: Dunno.
Me: Philip ROTH.
FC: Oh, whore.*




*This is a bad word in French and was not directed at me. I hope not, anyway.

Taking the pith

French colleague: ROSS-ko?
Me: No. ROTH-ko. Put your tongue between your teeth to say it.
FC(waggles tongue obscenely): RRRROOFFFSS-ko!
Me: God, imagine Ross-ko in Mor-pess. What a nightmare that would be for you.
FC: F*****g hell, Muriel!

Crying wolf

(on cafe menu board at lunchtime): filet de loup aux noix de St. Jacques, riz pilaff aux petits legumes

Me: Bloody Hell! (mouth gapes) Fillet of wolf ! Are things that bad in Europe? Are they really eating wildlife here now?
Resigned Stray: It's a fish, you silly cow.

There's no place like foam

Spanish colleague (writing news-in brief-report): So what is this bloody foam stuff in Aberdeen , then?
Me (squinting, following text of wire report slowly with one finger): er...um..well it says here...phytoplankton...
SC: MontyPython?

(Part Deux..)

French colleague: Mor-PESS?
Me: No. MORRR-peth.
FC (with gallic flourish): MWAH-pess?
Me (weakly, due to laughing): ..nearly...

The Whipper-in

Removals man (sly smirk): What's this? (brandishes my dressage whip, flexes it and then starts smacking his colleague on the bottom, accompanied by pantomime yelps)
Me (failing dismally to bestow a Paddington Stare due to laughing): Oh, for God's sake (raises eyes heavenwards) Give me strength, Lord..

At the Tax Hotel

Me: Hello
(Severe-looking lady of a certain age, with a beehive hairdo and pince-nez eventually raises her artfully made-up eyes to mine and lifts her eyebrows slightly in inquiry)
Me (trembling, opts for best ploy): Hay dernt kner eef you haff noteees, bert hay am nert Frenssssh..
Pince-Nez (looks over her glasses, eyes twinkling discreetly): We all have our faults. How can I help you?

Shop talk

Me: Hey, I learned something really surprising today. Guess what is the world's oldest democracy?
Distracted parent: No idea.
Me (persevering): Ok, here's a clue. It has the same name as a high street food shop.
DP: Waitrose?




(In the interests of impartiality, accuracy, fairness, diversity and other editorial guidelines blahblahblah DP would like me to point out that she was, of course, joking.The answer, as I am sure many already know, is Iceland)

The Pearl Necklace

Me (stroking the furry, silky head of the small dog with bulbous goldfish eyes in the seat next to me in the train): You are lovely.
SDWBGE (from the depths of the handbag it is sitting in, wearing a ten-strand pearl choker, I know because I counted them): Yip (although was Frog dog so actually said "yeep")