Lickety-split

Haribo (disdainful): ..that's just a**e-licking, if you ask me.
Me (agreeing): Yeah.
Haribo (moral): I could never do that kind of thing, urgh.
Me (pragmatic): Oh, I dunno. Depends how desperate you are. I would lick anything if I wanted it enough.

(cue extended and repeated cackling)

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)