"I've had more fun down drains"
Boogaloo Dude and Lady Bracknell yesterday made the tactical error of attending what was possibly the dullest meeting either has ever had the misfortune to experience. (This is saying something: both have ample experience of enduring meetings of quite remarkable tedium.)
Unfortunately, the reluctance of local motorists to abide by road markings bearing ambiguous and confusing legends such as, "keep clear for access" resulted in them arriving somewhat later than the majority of delegates, with the result that they could not sit together. Boogaloo Dude valiantly attempted to create an escape route by hurling a coat stand through a window, but his best efforts were in vain. The glass remained intact. The die was cast.
Our hero and heroine were thus condemned to sitting with people they did not know and with whom, quite frankly, they had not the slightest desire to pursue any further acquaintance, so that even their long-standing technique of alleviating the boredom by passing caustic notes to each other was denied to them.
Lady Bracknell was reminded, as she often is on such occasions, of the lyrics of one of Victoria Wood's songs, fragments of which lodged themselves in her memory many years ago. In the faint hope that muttering said lyrics under their breath might be of some avail to any of her readers who find themselves in similar straits, Lady Bracknell has instructed the editor to attempt to find the song in its entirety on the interwebnet. So here, for the gentle reader's delectation and delight, is the full text of "Bastards".
Unfortunately, the reluctance of local motorists to abide by road markings bearing ambiguous and confusing legends such as, "keep clear for access" resulted in them arriving somewhat later than the majority of delegates, with the result that they could not sit together. Boogaloo Dude valiantly attempted to create an escape route by hurling a coat stand through a window, but his best efforts were in vain. The glass remained intact. The die was cast.
Our hero and heroine were thus condemned to sitting with people they did not know and with whom, quite frankly, they had not the slightest desire to pursue any further acquaintance, so that even their long-standing technique of alleviating the boredom by passing caustic notes to each other was denied to them.
Lady Bracknell was reminded, as she often is on such occasions, of the lyrics of one of Victoria Wood's songs, fragments of which lodged themselves in her memory many years ago. In the faint hope that muttering said lyrics under their breath might be of some avail to any of her readers who find themselves in similar straits, Lady Bracknell has instructed the editor to attempt to find the song in its entirety on the interwebnet. So here, for the gentle reader's delectation and delight, is the full text of "Bastards".
posted by
Lady Bracknell | Wednesday, February 01, 2006
4 Comments:
Lady Bracknell is now pleased that she restricted her fluid intake to a cup of mint tea, albeit one which - as she remarked, she suspects, rather too loudly at the time - looked like a cup of wee.
I'll have to try the coat stand trick at the next dreary seminar and hope our window-frames are flimsier than yours.
"It Would Never Have Worked" is my favourite Victoria Wood song.
Buzzwords at this particular meeting would have included "literally" and "has/have a disability/disabilities". Social model terminology was sadly lacking.
The meeting was facilitated by a palantypist, a lip speaker and a BSL interpreter. Intrigued though Lady Bracknell is at the prospect of all three of these persons translating "bingo" simultaneously, she would be grateful if any of her deaf readers would care to comment on whether this level of support might perhaps constitute over-egging the pudding? (There were three deaf delegates, none of whom had BSL as a first language.)
Lady Bracknell, having requested a specific type of chair in advance, found to her horror that she had been placed next to the meeting's chairperson. A situation which rather put the kibosh on any plans she might otherwise have had for a furtive game of Battleships..
I know I'm replying more than a year late (May '07), but couldn't resist:
1. As someone from the colonies, I've no idea what "over-egging the pudding" means and so have difficulty responding to the bingo question (though I do happen to be Deaf).
2. But if you want a meeting anecdote involveing sign language, I can give you one! I once met a hearing woman who happens to sign fluently (and so does her hearing husband), though in this case ASL (American Sign Language) not BSL. On one occasion, they apparently found themselves having to endure a meeting about as stultifying as the one you describe here. Except that, as far as I know, there was no incident involving a coat stand (what REALLY happened there?) or over-caffinated coffee or remarks involving the resemblence of tea and, er, unmentionable liquids to relieve any of the tedium.
Everyone there was hearing, so they apparently simply assumed that they were the only ones there who could sign. Well, at some point during the meeting, the husband apparently signed to the wife, "When we get home tonight, I will do things to you I've never done before." Then, much to their mutual enjoyment, he went on to describe exactly what he meant in pornographic detail that presumably would have been quite horrifying to Lady Bracknell's delicate sensibilities if she had been privy to it. Only after the meeting was over did they discover that one of the other meeting participants was also fluent in ASL and understood their entire conversation!
Andrea
http://reunifygally.wordpress.com
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