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Tag Archives: humor

Medical Talk

29 Thursday Dec 2011

Posted by Mark in Uncategorized

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

humor, humour, Nursing, palliative care, terminology

"Nurse, can I have a bedpan?" By Warrigal

 

Given the latest brouhaha about diagnosing syndromes and medical terminology I thought I would give you some insight into how we talk to each other at work about patients.

Disclaimer: Any one that can identify or relate to any of the following has both feet firmly planted on the ground and is a realist.

“Hey, RN (Registered Nurse), the PIA(Pain in the Arse) in Room 2 has just had a DNM (Deep and Meaningful) with the PCW (Personal Care Worker) about the TIA (Trans Ischaemic Attack) he had that led to a CVA (Cerebral Vascular Accident)” says the EN (Enrolled Nurse).

“What does the PRICK (Slang for male genitalia) want?” quips the RN.

“He wants a PRN (medication given as necessary) SC(Sub Cutaneous), IM(Intra Muscular), IV(Intra Venous) or O(Oral) pain killer preferably an S8(Schedule 8 of the Poisons Schedule) or S4(Schedule 4 of the Poisons Schedule) but definitely not PR(Per Rectum)” retorts the EN.

“FUCK(Slang for fornication)”says the RN, thinking SHIT(Slang for faeces) I’ll have to do some paper work now. “How about two saccharine(PLACEBO) and a cup of coffee?” parries the RN.

“Nah. I mean the (L)(Left) BKA(Below Knee Amputation) was only 4/7(4 days ago) ago” states the EN.

SHIT, FUCK, PISS(slang for urine)(Therefore faeces, fornication, urine), I’ll really have to some paper work now. “When did he have his last BO(Bowels Open), maybe he just needs C&S(Coloxyl with Senna, a well know aperient) or a PR Microlax(A commercially available enema)?”. Sticking your gloved finger up someone’s bottom is far better than doing any paper work.  “Take a UA(Urine Analysis) from his IDC(In Dwelling Catheter) for an MSSU(Mid Stream Specimen of Urine) and send it to path(pathology). Put him on NBM(Nil By Mouth) and flush his PEG(Percutaneous Endoscopic Gastrostomy) with 100mls of H2O(Water). Initiate a TS(Treatment Sheet) for his ST(Skin Tear) for his (R)(Right) Shin(Shin).” This will bluff them thinks the RN.

“What will that do for his pain?” asks the EN.

“Look, I am the RN, you are the EN, the pecking order is I tell you what to do” asserts the RN but yes it will do SFA(Sweet Fuck All) for his pain but it may take his mind off it. “Is he a BSP(Believer in Sky Pixies)?” proffers the RN hoping another red herring will prevent having to do paper work.

“Nah, look he’s an NFR(Not For Resuscitation) but it says in his notes that he is a Jedi” replies the EN.

Jesus H. Christ, thinks the RN, a loon(an abbreviation of lunatic)(Loon – anyone that does not agree with the RN). “Ok, I’ll ring the MO(Medical Officer) but lets give him some haloperidol(a really nasty drug that sedates you), midazolam (a really nasty drug that makes you forget) and some morphine(a really nasty drug that relieves pain by making you sleep and dream. Morphine is more addictive than air). Bloody hell, thinks the RN, this job would be great if it wasn’t for the patients.

 Keywords: Nursing, terminology, palliative care, humor, humour

 

Father O’Way in Sri Lanka

08 Thursday Sep 2011

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 28 Comments

Tags

Australia, cricket, Father O'Way, fiction, humor, humour, Pigs Arms

Licky licky goo goo

 

Hi, look Father O’Way here. I’m really miffed. The Bish, you know Bishop Bishop of the St Generic Brand Church of Inner Western Cyberia has got the audacity to ring me in the Caribbean on my holidays with the beautiful Belinda to do a job.

 Anyhoo, enough whingeing. I have to go and find out what is going on behind the scenes in the Australian cricket team. Apparently the selectors have been dumped and everyone hates Greg Crapell, I mean, is this the bleeding obvious or what.

So I fly to Sri Lanka, you know the home of the paradise island, tea, coconuts and rocket launchers. Geez, thanks Bish.

Using some suspicious white powder, some green looking dried vegetable and gold bars I work my way into the inner sanctum of Australian cricket, the bar.

As usual all of the players have finished their lines, cocaine usually and are chatting around the bar.

“Did you all hear old chaps that Greg Crapell will be staying on for the tour?” I asked the group of players.

Ah f#@k, s@#t, p@#s, Geez a@#s were some of the more notable replies.

“What do think Greg can add to the team?” Geeps, who are my script writers, I’ll get killed for this.

F@#k all, he’s absolutely s#@t from a alpaca, for f@#k sake burn him at the stake and he doesn’t even eat meat, eeeewwww, were some of the more common answers.

“You have won the first test and would be confident going into the next match. I see that a former groundsman has been capped and did well, what are your thoughts on this?” Man, I’m shitting my self asking this one, I mean these guys are on coke, pissed, rich, ego centric, fit, aggressive, nasty, win at all costs sort of dudes.

F@#king good on ‘im mate, geez them wops are p@#s weak, can’t beat a f@#king groundsman, a@#s lickers mate, again were some of the more notable comments.

“Do you think Greg  Crapell is the sort of guy that attracts lots of # symbols and @ symbols?” I venture rather nervously. This crowd is getting ugly.

F@#king oath, you bet you a@#e and F@#k you uncle, again were more of the notable replies.

Father O’Way here. Signing out, in his lounge room, Nowhere, I hope….

Chilean Miners Redux

14 Sunday Aug 2011

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Neville Cole

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Beer, Chilean miners, humor, Llamas

Llamas gather for the 1 year celebration of the miners' release

Story (and the good photographs) by Neville Cole

This week I returned to Chile to celebrate the anniversary of Chilean miners release from their harrowing 69 day ordeal underground. What I found was far from a joyous occasion. Several of the miners and I gathered at a popular local bar in Copiapo called The Man Cave. Here now, in their own words, several of the miners talk about the events of the past year.

The Author enjoys a beer in a quiet corner of the Man Cave

NC: Yesterday was the anniversary celebration of your release from the mine. Did it turn out as you expected?

YONNI: For me, it did. Things have been very bad since we got out of the mine. Why would this be any better?

EDISON: I did not expect to be pelted with apples and oranges. I did not even get to sing Blue Suede Shoes.

NC: You have become quite famous this past year for your Elvis impersonation, haven’t you Mr. Pena? You even were invited to visit Graceland, as I understand. I am surprised Jaime never mentioned your singing in his diary.

YONNI: His singing is as bad as his marathon running! 5 hours, 40 minutes and 51 seconds! What a joke!

EDISON: At least my wife came to see me when I came out of the mine!

YONNI: I wouldn’t be so proud about that! Your wife is hairier than my dog. I thought it was your grandfather you were kissing!

JAIME: Brothers, please! Let us not bring up old quarrels. We are free now are we not? Is not any of this better than being stuck in the mine?

EDISON: You are just happy that his missing wife took some of the heat off you. A wife and a mistress greeting you for the press! Ay! Carumba!

PACO: I for one miss the mine. I have tried to get sent back down many times; but they will not hire me again. That is why I sold my story to the News of the World and started this bar.

MARIO: This place is creepy. Are these fur-covered shackles on the wall?

NC: Mario. Good to hear from you again. From what I understand, you were the miner who spent most of your time underground training to run in marathons yet Edison was flown to New York to compete in last years race. How do you explain that?

MARIO: Edison has a very big mouth. He runs with me 2 maybe 3 times while we are in the mine but as soon as he gets out he is talking like he’s Alberto Salazar or something. I should never have let him go up before me. I might have had a chance at that race. He barely made it in before the sun came up.

EDISON: I will race you any where, any time, any way you want.

NC: Gentlemen. It has not only been a tough time for you but also a difficult year for all of Chile. President Pinera, who was so instrumental in organizing your release, is under attack from all quarters. His popularity has sunk to 26%. Miners have gone on strike closing mines and costing mine companies millions of dollars in lost revenue. Students have closed universities and high schools for more than two months seeking education reform. Mupuche Indians have occupied ancestral lands. There a protests against proposed dams inPatagonia and planned coal mines in the north. At your celebration the President was quoted as saying:

“The time of the protests, the strikes, the takeovers, the violence has passed. Now has come the time to construct and not keep destroying, the time of dialogue and not of intransigence; the time of solutions and not of confrontation, the time of unity and not of division.”

PACO: Do you have a question?

NC: At the protests yesterday it was clear to me that many of your fellow Chilean’s see you as political puppets. How do you feel being so closely aligned with Pinera?

PACO: Pinera is a good man. He has visited my bar many times and always spends a lot of money.

JAIME: I don’t like it at all. We have been treated as dogs and ponies. Poor Omar has gone into shock. When the people threw the fruit at him he stopped talking altogether. I talked to his son, Omar, and he told me his father, Omar,  just sits in the corner and won’t say a word. It is very sad what they have done to us.

EDISON: Omar hardly spoke the whole time we were in the mine either. Face it, he’s just not a talkative guy. Look Pinera is a politician. He is doing his best to run a poor country in difficult times. So, he tries to milk us for a little positive press? What’s the big deal? Is he the first president to try and take advantage of feel good story? No. Will he be the last? No. I can only speak for myself but I have never been happier and if our lawsuit comes through, believe me, even poor old Omar will be grinning like the Cheshire cat.

NC: Let’s talk about that for a moment. You all stand to split 17 million dollars from the Chilean mining companies while your fellow miners are struggling mightily to get a pay raise that amounts to only a few more pesos a day.

YONNI: We were the ones stuck underground for 69 days. Do you think anyone would be even discussing safety if we didn’t get stuck in the mine? They will all gain from our suffering.

NC: But many feel that the reason they are not giving the miners a raise is because they are concerned about the large payout you men may receive.

EDISON: It’s all politics. There is plenty of money to go round. Maybe we do need a new president. Maybe someone who knows what it is like work underground should be president. Maybe someone with connections in the United States should be president. Maybe someone who can sing like the king should be president.

JAIME: Edison is thinking of running for president.

NC: Really. I hadn’t heard that.

EDISON: When I am named president I am going to step to the podium and say “Thank you. Thank you very much.” Then I’m thinking of opening with Viva Las Vegas but instead of singing “Las Vegas” I’m going to sing “Chile”.

NC: Stranger things have happened. Thank you all for joining me today. It’s been a pleasure talking to you all again.

YONNI: I understood there was going to be a free lunch today?

JAIME: …and beer?

NC: Ah…well, beer I can manage but I didn’t make any plans for lunch.

EDISON: Typical Australian journalist.

Just another Friday night at The Man Cave

After I purchased several rounds, Paco put on some hard driving techno trance and The Man Cave quickly filled with patrons ready to party the night away. It seems there was to be a celebration for the miners after all.

 

FOW – Climate change for Dummies

22 Friday Jul 2011

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 114 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way, fiction, humor, humour

Hi. Father O’Way(FOW) here. You know me now as Sandy, affectionately I’m sure. Anyhoo I have been asked to interview Lourdes Shitstirfer Muckrake(LSM). As you know there has been a lot of debate going on over at The Drum about climate change so I’m interviewing a leading critic against climate change. Here’s a transcript.

 

FOW: So, Lourdes Shitstirfer you oppose climate change and even say that the planet is cooling?

LSM: Please, call me Shit. Most people that know me refer to me by that name.

FOW: Okay, Shit, you claim that the planet is cooling?

LSM: Yes, from one year to another the temperature changed, big deal, I mean who gives a fig. If you look at 2000 to 2010 the temperature went down.

FOW: However the temperature from 1880 to now has gone up, how do you explain that?

LSM: That’s crap.

FOW: Sorry, I thought you said it was Shit.

LSM: Yes, it’s Shit but that’s crap.

FOW: Crap?

LSM: Yes, shit.

FOW: Hmm, how about the oceans are acidifying?

LSM: Hey, nothing wrong with a bit of acid man, I mean, my school days and that, wow.

FOW: What about the rising coastline?

LSM: Yeah, man, surf’s up in the western suburbs, whoa!

FOW: How about renewable energy?

LSM: If it’s renewable and that energy can be renewed then I think that renewable energy is very renewable and therefore renewable.

FOW: That’s crap?

LSM: No, Shit.

FOW: You actually didn’t say anything

LSM: No shit.

 

Sandy O’Way signing out, In His House, Nowhere.

Father O’Way: Religion for Dummies

24 Friday Jun 2011

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 37 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way, humor, humour, Sandy O'Way, science fiction

Hello. Hung One On (HOO)  here. Look, all this brouhaha about religion has sent me to the far corners of the earth to interview our own parish priest form the inner western suburbs of Inner Cyberia Father “Sandy” O’Way (FOW). As two intellectual giants we will battle it out about religion, God and life after death. Here’s a transcript.

HOO: So Sandy, all this stuff in the media lately about religion over at the old Unleashed, you know about how Chaplains are being placed in schools and how they may proselytize?

FOW: Sorry Hung but I take deep offence that you accuse us of us having sex with little boys.

HOO: No, Sandy, that’s paedophilia, I mean proselytize.

FOW: If you think that I’m going to get dressed up in black suspenders and stockings and stand on a corner then you have another thing coming.

HOO: No, Sandy, that’s prostitution, I mean proselytize.

FOW: We can never be guilty of that however we usually do this,  convert someone to another religion or opinion; convert to another religion or faith; enlist someone to one’s cause (also proselytise) . Get the picture?

HOO: So Sandy, the big one, is there a God?

FOW: Well, there’s a Gordon but don’t know about God.

HOO: Is there life after death?

FOW: No, unless you owe the tax office.

HOO: What do you think about the articles posted by Astyages an atomou concerning their views on Greek mythology?

FOW: Isn’t it marvellous watching two geniuses arguing over absolute bullshit, I mean they take bullshit to a new level. I mean the different side of the river bank, cut me to pieces that one.

HOO: Hmm, Do you speak with God?

FOW: Oh, shit yeah, all the time, I have his number in my mobile, lets talk to him.

[Ring, ring]

GOD: Hello God, here, Gordon O’Donnell [GOD]

HOO: Er, Hung here God, there has been a bit of a storm here lately about religion and you know the big one, life after death, that sort of thing and I was wondering if I could get your view on these issues?

GOD: Jesus Hung, pretty big subjects but let me see, religion is the choice of the individual but should be kept away from kids, life after death, well sort of, I’d probably give you two to one on but you probably just die, well sort of, you know what I mean.

HOO: But Gordon, that sounds like you are trying to have a bit each way?

GOD: Well Hung, I’m not dead yet so I can’t answer the question, anyway got to go, watching 25 years of The Bill.

Whew, heady stuff. Anyhoo I’ll sign off, Hung One On, Inside his House, No Where.

The Eye of God as seen from the Hubble Telescope

 

PS: For Warrigal, hopefully a smile has been delivered by the good Father.

Father O’Way and Burb Dylan

24 Tuesday May 2011

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 18 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way, fiction, humor, humour

Burb Dylan – Unlive

Hi. Father “Sandy” O’Way here. I have just landed an interview with Burb Dylan, you know, the singer. Anyhoo, apparently he has turned 71 for the tenth time. Here’s a transcript.

FOW: So Burb you are now 71 again, how does it feel?

BD: Sandy, you know, well the times they are a changing.

FOW: Hmm, yes well, I believe that you recently revealed that you were a heroin addict. When I was a kid my favourite heroine was Maureen O’Hara, do you remember her?

BD: Yes, sure do, in them pirate movies, I mean was she knocking on heavens door.

FOW: I believe you have lost money on the stock market?

BD: Yes Sandy, just like a rolling stone.

FOW: Hey Burb, are you going to answer me every time with a line from one of your songs?

BD: Just like a woman, I’m stuck in the middle with you.

FOW: But I’m a bloke

BD: Well hey Mr Tamborine man play a song for me

FOW: Do you think that you have succumbed to capitalism?

BD: Well Sandy, no matter what, you gotta serve somebody.

FOW: To wrap up Burb what’s the best advice you have for your audience?

BD: I think that lay lady lay, if not for you of course, Oh sister, forever young, tangled in blue, forever young with the joker man, so one day I will be released and can then shelter from the storm.

FOW: This is getting nowhere!

O’Way on the Trail

19 Thursday May 2011

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 19 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way, fiction, humor, humour

Osama Ben Lardin before seals

Hi. Father O’Way here. Just thought I’d let you know that I have had an exclusive interview with , you know, with the chief villain,  Osama Ben Lardin,  who is on holidays in YouBetYaStan. Here’s a transcript.

 FOW: So, Obama, mate, is it okay to call you Barrick?

OBL: My name is Osama, Obama is the president of the United States of America.

FOW: Wow, I love that band, you know, “Lump sits alone in a lonely heart dah dah dah da, yeah, She’s lump, she’s lump she’s in my head. She’s lump, she’s lump,  she might be dead, yeah, dah, dah, dah, da, dah, da”

OBL: No, you fool, my sworn enemy

FOW: Speaking of that, do you think Barry Hall should have stayed with  the Swans?

OBL: Hall and Swans, who are they, just kill.

FOW: Do you think Jamie Soward is the real play maker?

OBL: Just kill them and then find out

FOW: Do you think Shame Worn was fined to much for telling a zarking stupid cricket secretary that he was a zarking stupid cricket secretary?

OBL: Who the zark is Shame Worn I jus wanna kill yeah, man.

FOW: Will Mark Webber be able to repeat the feat of Alan Jones?

OBL: I’m coming to kill you !

FOW: Hand on a minute Ossie, there’s someone at the door

14 Hell’s Hospital – Birthday Edition

06 Friday May 2011

Posted by astyages in Astyages, Hell Hospital

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

fiction, hospital, humor, humour

Episode 14

By theseustoo

The cricket team was doing
alright; with John and Mary working and Algernon and Vivienne in
charge of the ‘little-uns’ to make sure they all got to school fed
and properly dressed; although they had little enough time for
cricket these days… Fortunately it was off-season anyway; though
they still tried to get in as much practice as they could over the
weekends. Ever since they were born, cricket had been their religion;
their father’s passion had managed to inculcate his obsession into
his children.

For the time being at least
they had managed to avert impending doom and manage this crisis as
well as could be expected; indeed, much better than most expected;
thanks to the sense of discipline their father’s religion had
instilled in them. Swannee had been hoping to engage them against
similar ‘family’ teams in ‘exhibition matches’… Algernon was a
terrific fast-bowler and Merv, the third-eldest boy could hit almost
any delivery for six. Unafraid even of the dreaded ‘googlie’, he’d
stand his ground and then, ‘THWACK’ the next thing you know the ball
would be somewhere up in the grandstand, or crashing through a
pavilion window… When asked how he managed to hit so many ‘sixes’
he just said, “I hate running…”

The plans their father had,
however, were now on hold; in any case, they would need to get their
new sibling out of hospital (they still didn’t even know whether it
was a boy or a girl!) so they could bring it home and start its early
training; John and Mary worried that it had already been three months
since their mother’s ‘nervous breakdown’ and the poor bub hadn’t even
held a cricket ball yet! Indeed, hadn’t even met its mother or its
father… or its brothers and sisters; the poor thing was in danger
of growing up an atheist! Something would clearly have to be done
soon.

***** ******** *****

“Inspector Vin Ordinaire
Rouge was right,” Mr Jones, who called himself ‘Foodge’, was
saying, “Catherine Swan could not possibly have killed her beloved
husband, Swannee, because she loved him too much and in any case, her
religion forbids it; and she is very devout… We suspect that she
has been ‘body-snatched’ by some unknown alien force; probably from a
different dimension…” Even though the day-room was empty apart
from himself and Dave, the new psych patient, he spoke in hushed
tones.

“Bodysnatched?” Dave
said, incredulously, “You mean someone’s taken over her mind…?”
Foodge shushed him insistently, then answered in a whisper, “Well…
more like ‘someTHING’ has taken over her body and is controlling it;
no saying exactly what that thing is; or what has happened to her
mind; the shrinks here don’t even know what they’re looking for.
That’s why I’m here… If we can get through to Catherine’s mind we
may get vital information on the nature of the threat… We’re hoping
it’s still in there somewhere…”

“Threat…? What threat?”
Dave asked immediately.

“Well, if I knew that
precisely I wouldn’t be here now, would I? All we do know is that it
involves the intrusion into our dimension of hyper-dimensional beings
who really don’t belong in this time-space continuum… and they’re
collecting together certain people for some unknown purpose… and
you’re one of them…”

“Oh… right…” Said
Dave, dubiously… Sure now that this guy was not playing with a full
deck. “And you reckon this hyper-dimensional being wants me too, do
you? But why?”

“Well, if we knew why,
we’d know a lot more than we do today, I’m afraid; however, suffice
it to say that certain transmissions from the nth
dimension have been received which suggest that a plot is afoot which
puts the whole of South Oz in danger… though, we’re not quite sure
what kind of danger that is yet…”

Dave was just giving him
his ‘quizzical’ look when the nurse arrived and, catching the
tail-end of the conversation, decided it had better end at once;
fantasies like those entertained by Mr Jones were not to be discussed
outside therapy sessions; and certainly not in front of potentially
violent patients… it was too easy to get them to act out even the
most bizarre dreams as if they were real; and that could be
dangerous.

“Mr Jones!” the nurse
said, “It’s time for your medication; report to the ward-sister
immediately.”

Then, after he’d gone, she
squatted down in front of Dave, who was sitting in one of the
day-room’s armchairs, “You don’t want to take any notice of
anything that guy says,” she said to him, “He’s nuttier than a
snickers bar! Now, you’d better go and get your meds too…”

***** ******** *****

When Catherine had
discovered her husband in flagrante
delicto it
had been such a shock to her psyche; had opened up such alien
feelings in her that her own mind felt violated at the impulses she
now felt; and these feelings it was which had opened up the psychic
crack that was necessary for the Dark One to quickly slip in and take
control. From that instant Catherine’s mind had withdrawn into
itself; thus whatever she experienced was experienced as a dream;
disjointed snippets of actions that were so unlike her and so
horrific that she found hard to understand, let alone to believe that
it was she who was performing them. The Dark One had been thrilled
with the discovery in Catherine’s mind of such superb knife-throwing
skills, and had immediately prompted his newly-acquired body to act
on the intense feelings of hatred and betrayal which had let him in,
and let fly… Catherine’s mind retreated further into
unconsciousness as the knives sank into Swannee’s back.

After she’d been taken to
the psych ward, however, the Dark One had been so busy manipulating
Elaine’s mind that his grip on Catherine’s mind had loosened just
enough to allow some remnant of Catherine’s consciousness to become
dimly aware, somewhere in its own deep, dark recesses; and in this
dream-like awareness, she found herself being tugged at by another
consciousness. It was not the Dark One, who had bullied her mind into
submission and frightened it into unconsciousness, of that she was
certain. This new presence seemed kind and gentle; it spoke to her
gently, soothingly, reassuring her that all would be well, but that
the time would soon come when she must act to rid herself of the Dark
One’s presence.

“Soon…” the new
presence said and Catherine knew she would be ready.

***** ******** *****

12.3 The Birthday Final

06 Friday May 2011

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

Australia, cricket, Father O'Way, humor, humour, science fiction

Pic by Warrigal

The story so far, Sandy, that’s me, I have to reset the expiry date on Gordon’s One Card. The only place I can do that is at the bottom of a mountain guarded by a blood thirsty war tribe on a distant planet. Sounds fun, not.

The girls are out fighting the Stumponian Battle Fleet while I look for every hiding place I can find. Not into this fighting thing. Alas the S.S. Julian II has been able to beam me down into the room at the bottom of Mount TheKerb that houses the ATM. The bad part is only I could get through and I’ve come face to face with the evil Lord Axelrod the Marauder, who also turns out to have been my brother David in a previous life, being mine. One scary dude let me tell you.

“So Sandy we finally meet” grins Axelrod. Yeah, great. Just what I needed.

“Ur, um, yeah, like, you know, like I have to reset the card er, um, like, you know what I mean Alexrod” I stammer.

“We fight to the death with swords” he reply’s thrusting  the weapon in my direction.

“Hey look, I did that trip with Dad and he didn’t come off to good” I relate, thinking about Lord Deaf Visions untimely death. “Look how about hand paper scissors or draughts, occupational health and safety and all that” I plead.

“You have been sent for the bail as well Sandy” says Alexrod “so we fight to the death”

Zark. Why does everything in space involve a fight. I mean just can’t we all love one another plus I’m a coward and just want to get the zark out of here.

I didn’t last long in the sword fight and in less than a few minutes Alexrod has me pinned in the corner and is about to kill me when the Helvi-bot arrives and kicks Alexrods sword away while simultaneously shooting him in the arm. Who says women can’t multi-task.

I reset the expiry date and pick up the bail while Helvi holds a gun on Alexrod. Wow, you wait till I tell my work buddies. “Waddya do in the holidays Sandy?” they will ask to which I might just say “Oh, held a murderous tribal leader with a gun or two in an intergalactic war where cricket rules”. To which they reply “That Sandy is one crazy dude”.

I examine Alexrods wounds and say “Not to bad, you’ll live”

“Don’t worry Sandy, I’ll be Bach” replies Alexrod.

“No, I think you mean back don’t you?”

Recessional Redux

22 Friday Apr 2011

Posted by Mark in Pig Psalms, Warrigal Mirriyuula

≈ 21 Comments

Tags

fiction, humor, humour, Pig Psalm, Pig's Psalm, Pigs Arms, Poem, Warrigal

Pictures by Warrigal Mirriyuula

Merve is a proud sponsor of Glenda’s rapid deployment Emergency Makeover Team. Where ever trouble strikes Glenda and her team of expertly trained girls can swing into action and before you know it, Ladies within the evacuation zone can be primped, preened, pampered and presented anew as Princesses and Queens of the devastation.

This weeks special “Fusion Tips”!

Yes girls, hair looking a bit bedraggled after a few months in the Evac Camp? Well don’t worry, Glenda’s new patented “Fusion Tips”, now with extra Caesium for that natural glow, will having you feeling completely ionised in no time at all.

Recessional Redux by Warrigal Mirriyuula

Merve of our hotel, known of old—

Lord of the beer which tastes so fine.

Within whose red brick walls he holds

Dominion over spirit and wine,

Publican host, be with us yet,

Same again mate , lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies

The roadcrew and the bands depart

Still stands Merve with broom in hand,

He sweeps and mumbles, lets go a fart.

Publican host, be with us yet,

Same again mate, lest we forget!

Home called, the punters melt away

The doors are locked, the “useful” paid

And all the beer is pissed away

To empty bladders for another day.

Licensing Sergeant, spare us yet,

Same again mate, lest we forget!

If, drunk with too much Trotters, we loose

Wild tongues that have not Merve in awe

Such bruisings as will turn to puce

Our arses, he’ll kick and say no more.

Publican host, be with us yet,

Same again mate, lest we forget!

Poor battered souls that put their trust

In reeking loo and threadbare carpet

Will all be dust that builds on dust,

So “Staffies” for all Granny, there’s a poppet.

For frantic boasts and foolish words,

Are the staples of life for dear old Merve.

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