Mrs Farty decided that she was fed up with our old, hand-operated black-and-white steam telly, so we splashed out on a brand spanking new large, flat-screen, colour effort. It's flush with the sitting-room wall, there are no obtrusive wires visible, visitors say it's really smart, and yet she's still not happy. You just can't please some folk.
What? What?
There's A Rat In Me Kitchen (What Amma Gonna Do?)
The Chinese Year of the Rat began on February 7th this year. And what better way to celebrate than to let the feckers loose in the National Museum of Scotchland? I'll take this story with a pinch of salt 'cos it's from the Scottish Sun, but: "Screaming primary school children fled in terror after being plagued by rats...at the National Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh after spotting the rodents as they ate their packed lunches."
Rats take packed lunches to the museum? We obviously have a better class of rat than most. So refayned, don'choo know?
Keeping with the Chinese theme, I remembered this story today. Allegedly true. *cough*
The British Ambassador's wife was wondering what to wear to one of them posh parties what they're always having at the Hong Kong embassy. She eventually picked out a suitable dress and then remembered a lovely brooch she'd purchased at a local market. It had nice Chinese characters on it and that. Like this, probly.
She knew she'd picked just the right attire by all the admiring glances she attracted from the men and the dagger looks from the ladies. Until she went to powder her nose and another girl accosted her, asking if she knew what the inscription meant.
"Frankly, I've no idea. It's just something I picked up. Why?"
"It says: "City of Hong Kong Registered prostitute #371."
