Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘humor’

Mother Wimple-Head ©

Mother Wimple-Head had a way with her broom. She was a witch. She was feted among the best in the society and always what she did was in the news. In the galaxy where she had lorded over for long had to agree, none could wield it as she did. But nothing more, alas,  she could do with it in order to stay in the news. One day her name did not make it in the headlines. She waited for a month. Nothing.

The witch could not stomach it anymore. One night she took her faithful dog Rex and her porker.

She sat astride over he broom and said, “Take me someplace, Olaf.”

IMG_4489

Olaf was a broom but in his devotion to her he was second to none. Even the dog whose nose was so tuned to read his mistresses’ moods could not match. Of course the porker never strayed from the lap of Mother Wimple-Head.

Mother Wimple-Head simply let Olaf drive her where he would. Olaf did not let a chance like that escape. He scanned while he flew past planets and starry field.

As he approached the earth there was a presidential convention going on in some place, name of which is not to the point. There were sea of people separated by their color. The red was searching for a candidate to lead them; so was the blue. Olaf revved up and landed in just the middle of the hubbub.

Mother Wimple-Head saw the sea of people flowing with curiosity about them. As soon as her feet touched the ground she raised herself and said grandly, “We have come in peace.” Her language so esoteric and gibberish was well understood back home but on the earth the crowd heard some sounds, and one delegate in red said,”Poor old hag, her bones are cracking up.” Porker hearing it simply snorted, “Oiink!”

The delegate in blue beamed. He said, “He has come from a swamp. He shall not dredge here.” The delegates in red immediately pounced on the porker to say, “He looks so presidential. We have our President nominee.”

Not to be outdone the chief of the Blue delegates led Rex, the hound and said, “You are amenable to dog whistle, Aren’t you?”

Rex ambled towards him and in one jump licked his face all over.

Having found their Presidential nominees they simply melted from the field. Mother Wimple-Head was crestfallen. She picked up Olaf and said, “Fine mess you have brought me into, Olaf.”  Their palaver was broken by one fellow who sounded pompous and said to the visitor. “You have a fine broom. Clean up the mess we make.” The witch wanted to say no but the fellow said, “You need not ever worry over your pension. We do everything here grandly. “Poor Wimple-Head she must be still around cleaning up the mess of earthlings .

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

BHcover-design

Was his encounter with the great white shark and escape by some design or by sheer luck? On such a question hangs the Horrible History of the Captain Black Hand.

It is a horrible story though. It is being published as paper back.

Description:

Young Murtius was a child of his times. At a time Old Spain and Portugal and England were plundering the Americas and called it the Great Battle of Wits he became a pirate. Awed by so much wealth he exclaimed, “I have needs therefore I exist.” Philosopher Descartes could not have summed it more succinctly. Only after he said ‘yea’ to free enterprise did he realize the Big Powers were dead earnest to string him up from the nearest yardarm.  He was a pirate with a price on his head!There was no going back. He took on the name Captain Black Hand with a ship and pirates ready to undertake any mission to stay afloat.

Eleven adventures are described with humor and verve of a pirate whose single misstep would have put an end to his game. Having made two enemies at the beginning of his career these adventures keep the reader engaged with their cat and mouse game into which a love-interest is also introduced to keep the suspense taut: does his phenomenal luck work same magic with love of his life?

The pirate makes appearance in two other books.

Q-bitz is a pen name and refers to the author’s interest in science. In the world of letters his forte is laws of levity, not related by any chance to the laws of Newton on gravity.

pages:272

Read Full Post »

The Finnish word sisu has many shades of meaning in English. Grit, perseverance and resilience are all shades of meaning but do any of it touch the nerve of being? Alas, no. Such are words and let me see what it means to you and me. It is to see your wallet bare and that takes grit to tighten the belt and cancel the grocery list for the week. You preserve in your indigence and there comes a time when your deprivation has smoothed the dog-ears of want and you can even a joke at ‘being too much in a want to want anything particularly’. It is in extremis. But that will do nicely. Ah then you have learnt the word ‘sisu’ for the kingdom come. Adios amigos! (Ack: Tim Lomas Positive Lexicography Project)

Read Full Post »

Out In A Flash

“Rain was a story God telling but the man in umbrella kept interrupting.

The Lake did not take to traveling but the Hydro-electric Company made it to work

I love River Seine but it is n’t saying much.

A river comes with two banks. You can take either if you are clue less. River has been asking the age old question: Is the sea coming to me or am I returning a favor?”

By one who isn’t particular about doing anything today

Read Full Post »

img_3464“As far he is concerned ‘International Women’s Year’ is over.”

Read Full Post »

I am at the end of my tether. I have this slightly damaged goods and I tried all, but the thing has outplayed my hands. I could burn the whole thing up. But then it would make all my sweat and bother not worth the while.

I shall sell the world lock, stock and barrel. Whoever buys it off my hands then shall I leave the hell. It would be fun.

Let me see my little black book: under equivocation: ‘speak with a forked tongue but a mallet on the head makes carry the day.’ See Syria for instance. At Geneva they lie their heads off and they can teach me a trick of two. Imagine I who made a lie stick in their throat now am at the risk of drowning in the flood. They produce enough to drown the world and few besides in it. No I shall not have it. Sell it any price.

Now let me check what I had noted under persuasion:

‘Give the weak and defenseless some bromide to buck their spirits up. Say liberty and they are ready to break the chains off the ankles of half the world.

‘That is persuasion for you. But the Panama Papers show how wet I am behind my ears.

Now recalling how I went about all across the world whispering the buzz word into their ears all I have got two alien tribes living cheek by jowl yet oblivious of each other.

Under education I had scrawled in my illegible hand. ‘Curiosity kills the cat but fat cats know how to kill curiosity.’ The world is reeling under a strange disease of FOMA. Does a man who has never bothered to know what he is really require so much external stimuli? He has information to drown three worlds and he is showing early symptoms of info crunch. Eternal youth for him with such symptoms is a crime. I shall not be held to account for it.

I am Satan but even I have some scruples. I shall sell the world lock, stock and barrel. Whoever buys it off my hands then shall I leave the hell. It would be fun.

 

benny

Read Full Post »

Hamid the Sponge could call on Mullah anytime. He was a playfellow from his youth. One day he turned up and saw a stone jar of pickles. Mulla explained it was 40 years old. ‘A family heirloom you could say, Hamid,’ Instantly Hamid asked, ‘Can I borrow some?’ Mulla refused.  Mulla turned the subject and said,’My wife just made halwa, Lucknowi style.  ‘ Come let me bring it’

Hamid tasted it and Mulla asked,”How is it?’ Hamid said,’Please wrap this for me. I’ll taste it at home and let you know.’

mullah-15Later  Mulla Nasruddin dropped in on his village and called on his old playfellow. Hamid took him to introduce him to his friends.

At one place while they chatted the subject came around to halwa. Each one had his own speciality.  Mulla brightened up and said,’I am sure about what goes into Lucknowi halwa.’

‘Lucknowi halwa?’ one asked,’Never tasted one,’Mulla how does that taste?’ Mulla shrugged his shoulders and said,’

‘How do I know? Hamid ought to know what it is like’

Later as Hamid took him home he said,’Why do you bring me into your talk? I insist: keep me out of it’

Next time Mulla was at the house of another local worthy and he had to say while the question of Halwa came up. Mulla held his hand up and said,’I know how Lucknowi halwa is made. But keep our friend Hamid out of it.’

benny

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »