Be careful what you ask for!

Chicken Shit

I don’t remember ordering this but have to confess it tasted much better than it sounds!


The joke is on me!

Sometimes my sense of humour gets me into trouble.
After a wonderful lazy lunch at the Polo Club in Bangalore’s Oberoi Hotel, I handed over my docket to the Valet parking attendant, and said with a grin “mine’s the blue one over there”.
The poor chap took me seriously and rushed over to the Porsche Cayenne that I wished were mine and proceeded to try and open it with the key of my way more moderately priced SUV. I had to rush over and stop him before he damaged the lock.
What I had intended as a joke ended up embarrassing both him and I!

X-Rated Plumbing Supplies!

X-Rated Plumbing Supplies

Yesterday while cleaning the bathroom, I underestimated the immense strength contained in my perfectly sculpted body and snapped the bathroom tap off.
Gallons of water gushed over me as I stared in horror at the hole in the wall where once a tap had been. It was only when the water had reached my ankles that I remembered a piece of folklore and like a good little Dutch boy stuck my finger in the hole.
Frantically summoning The Boss from the chaise longue on which she had been reclining, a piece of cucumber over each eye, and her feet on a silk cushion. I requested her to turn off the mains water supply so I could retrieve my finger from the hole in which it had ignominiously been thrust.
A quick phone call was made to our friendly neighborhood plumber who, it being a Sunday, was understandably reluctant to attend to our needs, busy as he was buying Dal and Rice for the week ahead. Frustrated at my inability in my limited Hindi to convey the urgency of the situation, I handed the phone over to The Boss whose persuasive and dulcet tones had the required effect. Ten minutes later he turned up on his cycle with his tools wrapped in a hessian bag.
A replacement tap was needed and as the nearest shop was closed we jumped in my car and headed over to a plumbing shop he knew would be open on a Sunday evening.
We explained what we needed to the shopkeeper and I have to admit was more than a little shocked when he immediately shouted “Big Cock, long body”
How on earth does he know” I thought to myself. I looked down at my loose shirt and baggy shorts. No nothing to give it away there. I looked at my plumber companion who seemed completely unconcerned, as if every one of his clients was told the same thing.
Perhaps the shop keeper has x-ray vision? Maybe he is an Indian superhero? Mild mannered shop keeper Kamlesh Patel by day, caped crusader by night. Rescuing those in dire in dire plumbing need, diagnosing emergencies with his x-ray vision.
“Big cock long body!” he shouted again, but this time I realized that he was directing the comment not to me but to one of his assistants. Judging by his short stature he certainly didn’t have a long body and I didn’t care to look too closely at the rest.
His assistant repeated “Big cock long body” and started rummaging around on the shelves.
Maybe they are intimately aware of each other’s anatomy and use the expression as a term of endearment, I wondered, after recovering from the initial disappointment of realizing he wasn’t describing me.
The assistant tossed a box over to the shopkeeper who promptly opened up the top flap and proudly announced “Sir. Big cock long body!”
I looked inside with trepidation wondering if I had strayed into the wrong shop, and sure enough there it was, in all it’s glory.
A shiny new tap with “Bib Cock, Long Body” written on the label
Now the tap is fixed I must clean the wax from my ears!

Times, they are a changin!

Travelling through India it is common to see saffron-robed men by the side of the road. Hindu renunciates known as Sadhus these men wander from pilgrimage place to pilgrimage place, usually on foot, carrying minimal possessions and sleeping wherever they get shelter, relying on the generosity of the public for their food.
Returning to Bangalore from Mumbai last week in the car, my niece piped up from the back seat, “How do these Sadhus manage walking from town to town? Don’t they get tired?”

I was unable to reply, busy as I was avoiding crashing into a water buffalo who had taken up residence in my lane, so the Boss replied “they walk until they are tired and then they stop for the night”
“But how do they manage?” persisted my niece. “They don’t have computers”
“Why do they need computers”? The Boss asked, my niece’s question intriguing enough to drag even my attention away from wildlife avoidance.
“If they don’t have computers then they can’t book their rooms”