Tag Archives: humour

Foreign travel and strange customs make for great stories.


This story popped up on Facebook earlier. It made me laugh so I stole it thinking you might enjoy a Monday chuckle.

This is apparently from Hong Kong hotel brochure. I’m guessing not translated by a native English speaker and so much better for it!!

Obviously, it has been translated directly, word for word from Mandarin to English.
Getting There:

Our representative will make you wait at the airport. The bus to the hotel runs along the lake shore. Soon you will feel pleasure in passing water. You will know that you are getting near the hotel, because you will go round the bend. The manager will await you in the entrance hall. He always tries to have intercourse with all new guests.

The Hotel:
This is a family hotel, so children are very welcome. We of course are always pleased to accept adultery. Highly skilled nurses are available in the evenings to put down your children. Guests are invited to conjugate in the bar and expose themselves to others. But please note that ladies are not allowed to have babies in the bar. We organize social games, so no guest is ever left alone to play with them self.

The Restaurant:
Our menus have been carefully chosen to be ordinary and unexciting. At dinner, our quartet will circulate from table to table, and fiddle with you.

Your Room:
Every room has excellent facilities for your private parts. In winter, every room is on heat. Each room has a balcony offering views of outstanding obscenity! .. You will not be disturbed by traffic noise, since the road between the hotel and the lake is used only by pederasts.

Bed:
Your bed has been made in accordance with local tradition. If you have any other ideas please ring for the chambermaid. Please take advantage of her. She will be very pleased to squash your shirts, blouses and underwear. If asked, she will also squeeze your trousers.

Above All:
When you leave us at the end of your holiday, you will have no hope. You will struggle to forget it.

Two tone dog is back!


I mistimed our walk to the beach today and although I’d checked the tide times before I set off the tide had come in much faster than I expected (rookie tourist error). There was no beach and the sea was too rough to risk a swim from the steps so Douggie the doggie and I  went for a walk to a local country park instead.

Douggie found a muddy stream. It reminded me of when we used to walk on the moors and he’d go bog snorkelling.

He found a lovely muddy ditch to wallow in and then he pushed his way through a bunch of nettles and weeds, getting himself tangled halfway through so I had to delve in to help free him. He came out covered in those little sticky balls that get tangled in his fur. What a mess. Every time anyone walked past us, always with a big grin on their faces, I silently prayed that he wouldn’t shake.

There’s going to be a lot of grooming going on when he’s finally dried out. Yuk!It was funny to watch and I loved watching him wallow, he was having a great time but it’s fair to say that I don’t miss two tone dog. Give me the beach any day.

two tone dog

Talking of the beach. We had a huge Irish family staying with us at Boofuls Lodging Emporium a couple of weeks ago. One of the family stopped me to ask if there was a beach nearby. I was a bit surpirsed that she asked becaseu they’d been withh us a few days and I thought she’d have sussed it out at this stage. “Yes of course, we have a huge beach, just down the road. I’m surprised you haven;t already seen it.”

“Oh yes”, she replied, “there was a beach there the other day but it’s gone. It’s all covered in water now.”

It took everything I had not to laugh out loud but it got even better.

“Ok, it must be high tide, let me check my tide tide app for you. Oh yes, it’s high tide right now.””Well. All I want is to lie on a beach. Sure, is there not another beach here I can lie on.”

“Ummm. No. I’m pretty sure it’s high tide on all the beaches just now. Best try again in a couple of hours when the water has receded a bit.”

You know, I should play poker. My poker face is BRILLIANT. When I got to the pricvacy of the linen room though I laughed and laughed till the tears ran down my legs!

A Sunday Giggle


Wonderful translations from Around the World:
In a Bangkok temple:

IT IS FORBIDDEN TO ENTER A WOMAN, EVEN A FOREIGNER, IF DRESSED AS A MAN.

Cocktail lounge, Norway :

LADIES ARE REQUESTED NOT TO HAVE CHILDREN IN THE BAR.

Doctors office, Rome :

SPECIALIST IN WOMEN AND OTHER DISEASES.

Dry cleaners, Bangkok :

DROP YOUR TROUSERS HERE FOR THE BEST RESULTS.

In a Nairobi restaurant:

CUSTOMERS WHO FIND OUR WAITRESSES RUDE OUGHT TO SEE THE MANAGER.

On the main road to Mombasa , leaving Nairobi:

TAKE NOTICE: WHEN THIS SIGN IS UNDER WATER,THIS ROAD IS IMPASSABLE.

On a poster at Kencom:

ARE YOU AN ADULT THAT CANNOT READ? IF SO WE CAN HELP.

In a City restaurant:

OPEN SEVEN DAYS A WEEK AND WEEKENDS.

In a cemetery:

PERSONS ARE PROHIBITED FROM PICKING FLOWERS
FROM ANY BUT THEIR OWN GRAVES .

Tokyo hotel’s rules and regulations:

GUESTS ARE REQUESTED NOT TO SMOKE OR DO OTHER DISGUSTING BEHAVIOURS IN BED.

On the menu of a Swiss restaurant:

OUR WINES LEAVE YOU NOTHING TO HOPE FOR.

In a Tokyo bar:

SPECIAL COCKTAILS FOR THE LADIES WITH NUTS.

Hotel, Yugoslavia:

THE FLATTENING OF UNDERWEAR WITH PLEASURE IS
THE JOB OF THE CHAMBERMAID.

Hotel, Japan:

YOU ARE INVITED TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE CHAMBERMAID.

In the lobby of a Moscow hotel across from a Russian Orthodox monastery:

YOU ARE WELCOME TO VISIT THE CEMETERY WHERE FAMOUS RUSSIAN AND SOVIET COMPOSERS, ARTISTS AND WRITERS ARE
BURIED DAILY EXCEPT THURSDAY.

A sign posted in Germany’s Black Forest:

IT IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN ON OUR BLACK FOREST CAMPING SITE THAT PEOPLE OF DIFFERENT SEX, FOR INSTANCE, MEN AND WOMEN,
LIVE TOGETHER IN ONE TENT UNLESS THEY ARE MARRIED WITH EACH OTHER FOR THIS PURPOSE.

Hotel, Zurich :

BECAUSE OF THE IMPROPRIETY OF ENTERTAINING GUESTS OF THE OPPOSITE SEX IN THE BEDROOM, IT IS SUGGESTED THAT THE LOBBY BE USED FOR THIS PURPOSE.

Advertisement for donkey rides, Thailand :

WOULD YOU LIKE TO RIDE ON YOUR OWN ASS?

Airline ticket office, Copenhagen : ( only here ? ? ? )

WE TAKE YOUR BAGS AND SEND THEM IN ALL DIRECTIONS.

A laundry in Rome :

LADIES, LEAVE YOUR CLOTHES HERE AND SPEND THE AFTERNOON HAVING A GOOD TIME.

Snory Story Revisited


Heres a story I came across while I was looking back at a few old posts. It made me laugh out loud as I remembered it. I hope it makes you chuckle too.

Here’s a little snory story for you

Since weeknights have become a no alcohol zone in our house in an effort to economise, lose weight and generally get healthy, I’ve noticed a welcome but totally unexpected side effect. Boofuls no longer spends most nights snoring and I no longer spend most nights cursing, digging him in the ribs and shouting at him to ‘”Turn over and SHUDDUP!!” Usually followed by, “Right! That’s it! You’re p***ing me off now. Go and sleep in the spare room.”

Peace, perfect peace. I’m loving it. I’m loving getting up in the morning and not spending half the morning trying to get my poor brain out of it’s sleep deprived fog.

Weekends, however are the perfect reason to open a nice bottle of sauvignon blanc and partake of a wee drinkie.

Last Friday night, sauvignon blanc-ed to a nice fuzzy level, Boofuls and I retired to our bed.

Sure enough, within a few seconds – yes, that wasn’t a typo I did mean seconds, how that man can fall asleep so fast is beyond me. It’s like turning off a light – Boofuls was asleep and snoring gently. I’d decided to read a couple of chapters of my latest Harry Potter.

Within a few more seconds the snore fest had begun and the volume level began to rise. Soon it was reverberating around the bedroom and I was starting to suffer from sense of humour failure.

Now you may or may not know that I’m not a woman known for my tolerance. I let the cacophany continue for a few minutes with the occasional “shuddup” or “turn over”.  It was obvious he was dreaming by the twitching and muttering that was going on in between the snores but I soon got bored of listening to it and as normal announced. “Right! That’s it. You’re p***ing me off now, go and sleep in the spare room.”

He jumped, grunted and in the most pathetic voice you can imagine said, ” I can’t. I don’t know where it is.”

Oh how that tickled my funny bone! I was apopleptic with laughter and stuffing the duvet into my mouth in an attempt to not laugh out loud and wake him up too much.

” Well, love. Get out of bed, turn right, open the door and walk up the landing and it’s the first door on the right.” By now I thought he’d be fully woken up and noticing my sarcastic tone but instead he thanked me gratefully for my directions, got up and went on his way!

I laid there laughing till the tears poured down my face and my stomach ached. The following morning he didn’t remember a single thing about it.

Sausage Roulette


I love a good game of sausage roulette in the morning. I mean. Who doesn’t love a game of sausage roulette?

Right.

Wash your mind out right now!

Sausage roulette involving actual sausages from the butcher. Honestly, what are you? Twelve?

Never heard of it? It’s a game we hoteliers love to play on a daily basis. How many guests have we got in? How many are going to want sausages? How many shall I actually cook?

It can be a risky game. I’ve held my nerve on many occasions and won, doing a little victory lap around the kitchen with a roasting tin devoid of sausages held aloft. I’ve lost my nerve on many occasions and wished I’d held tight. I’ve never outright lost and needed a sausage and not had one but I’ve had sausages leftover on many occasions. Douggie the doggie never complains and neither do the staff.

This weekend I was going to win. No doubt about it. Three vegetarians, one vegan, four meat eaters. Strangely, I have discovered that the fewer guests we have the more likely they are to want a full English breakfast so I put in four sausages.

The vegetarian/vegan group came down to breakfast first. I stood in the kitchen awaiting their order, hand on the freezer door ready to pull out a pack of Linda McCartney’s.

“One scrambled egg on toast. One hash browns, tomato and beans. One hash browns mushrooms and beans and one full English.”

“Veggie full English?”
“No. Full English, bacon, sausage, the works.”

“What? No. They can’t. They’re vegetarian.”
“Not today they’re not.”

Bugger. I set to making their breakfasts and then contemplated my hand in the game of sausage roulette. Four people due for breakfast. Only three sausages. Hold my nerve or cave?

I held my nerve. The next couple came down for breakfast. “Two full English, Please.”

I was starting to panic. Two guests, one sausage.

Then I remembered that I’d caught sight of the remaining couple when they checked in. Fair to say they enjoyed their food. I caved. In went another sausage.

The last couple came down. The washer upper, Lashes and I stood and waited with bated breath for the order to come in.

Boofuls came in with the order.

“You lose.”

Wild? It was livid!


What’s going on? First it was months and months of stupidly hot weather. Now it’s storm after storm after storm. It’s so windy! I wondered if I was going to end up under a fallen down tree, it was so windy. Wild? It’s worse than that, it’s livid! Great for drying the washing except that the washing will end up in Somerset!

Last night I had to take Douggie the doggie for a walk. The rain was sweeping down and I wondered if I should put on my waterproof trousers. Nah!! It’s only that fine rain, we’ll only be out ten minutes, it’ll be ok.

Ten minutes, soaked to the skin later I was trudging upstairs for a change of clothes. It’s true you know. That fine rain DOES soak you through!

Tonight we will be braving the wind, but thankfully  not the rain, again when we go out for our nightly stroll and training session on the local leisure centre car park.  Douggie the doggie is competing in a heelwork to music Halloween themed competition and we have got a whole routine to put together in a month.

Night after night we train on the car park, watched we know by the leisure centre staff on the CCTV. We know this because as we leave they are  occasionally outside the side entrance on a break and make comments such as “Britain’s got talent for you is it then, love?” My answer to that is of course no. Douggie the doggie in that situation would just plonk his backside on the floor and start scratching. Even for a massive dog lover like Simon Cowell that isn’t really much of an act, is it?

What I should do is film Douggie in training when he performs brilliantly time after time and show that to our trainer. The reason being that Douggie has very definite diva tendencies when it comes to performing.  If all the elements aren’t exactly right or he feels even slightly ill at ease he just won’t do it.

At a fun charity demonstration a few weeks ago we were all lined up ready to start our routine. Douggie watched me with his eyes shining, ready to do his new dance to music from The Greatest Showman. I gave the cue to start the music. Nothing happened.  I gave the cue again. The man doing the music shrugged. Douggie looked at me as if to say, ‘well get on with it, I’m ready’. The music was clearly not going to play.

While we waited Douggie and I showed off a few moves and tricks just so we weren’t standing there like lemons. He did really well.

Still the music didn’t play so we left the arena.

When the music system had been fixed we were given a new place in the line up. IN BETWEEN TWO CRUFTS PERFORMERS!!!

Douggie, clearly thinking he’d already done his bit he wasn’t about to do it again no matter how many people were watching. He flatly refused to play. I jollied him on and he gave me the dog equivalent of two fingers. Oh, the  shame!

It’s a long walk to get out of the arena when a hundred disappointed eyes are watching you.

Our trainer has suggested on more than one occasion that I get another dog as Douggie hides his dancing light under yet another bushel while I protest, “But he can do this PERFECTLY at home.”  Don’t worry, Douggie. I won’t be trading you in for a collie just yet.

There’s nowt so queer as folk


August is in full swing! The hoteliers’ Facebook groups are full of stories of weird, wonderful and not so wonderful stories of the ‘August People’.

This week we had a very nice Austrian couple turn up for a four night stay.

Boofuls showed them up to their room. “Oh no. This won’t do at all. It’s on the ground floor, I want to be able to open the windows.” Boofuls explained that he could open the windows as much as he wanted because of the giant ‘well’ to accommodate the windows for the dining room below them which is in the basement. It would take Spiderman to be able to get across there and into the room. “No. No. It won’t do. I want an upstairs room.” Boofuls explained that we were fully booked and we didn’t have a spare upstairs room. That was that.

Boofuls went back downstairs.

Two minutes later, the man was back. “Where is the sea view? We booked a four star hotel and a sea view. Where is my sea view?” Boofuls looked at the man aghast. Well, we aren’t a hotel we are a B&B and we don’t have a sea view, not unless we knock down the six hundred year old abbey that stands between us and the sea – and the neighbours house. I’m pretty sure that could be considered un-neighbourly.

“It clearly says on Bonking.effingcom that you are a 4* hotel and you have a sea view. I’ve seen pictures of it.”

Boofuls has the patience of a saint, really he does. I’d have been getting a bit short with the chap at this point.

“Sir, we are a 4* silver bed and breakfast, it does not say the word ‘hotel’ anywhere on our bonkers.com page. Also. Any pictures you have seen of the sea on our page are pictures of the surrounding area. With the greatest of respect, sir, we could not possibly have views of all those different places even if we were situated actually IN the sea, not unless we were a mobile bed and breakfast.”

The man decided that he wasn’t happy and was going to book an actual hotel with a sea view. Boofuls pointed him in the right direction. “I’ll see what I can find and then we’ll move. We’ll pay you for the first night.” Boofuls stopped him right there. “Excuse me but you’ll pay for all four nights. We have taken those rooms off the market for you and we won’t be able to resell them at this stage. They must be paid for.” The man actually paid without the usual argument.

He found himself a room at a sea front hotel and off he went. We know the hotel and we knew that although it has sea views the rooms are a bit grim and they wouldn’t like it there. However, not our problem.

I posted the story on to a hoteliers FB page. The point of my tale was that guests repeatedly fail to do any research and then blame us when they aren’t happy. Expensive mistake.

Anyway, One of our fairly close neighbours said they’d exactly the same situation with an Austrian couple. Austrian? They weren’t called Blah and Blah were they? THEY WERE!!!!

So. They had been to the hotel. Didn’t like it. Ended up at our friends B&B (not hotel), further away from the sea (no views) than we are and on a much busier road. An hour after they arrived they said that the chap had been called back to work so they couldn’t stay..and they left.

Some people obviously have more money than sense. They paid us, they paid at the hotel and then they paid at another B&B and didn’t stay with any one of us.

Tsk. August people. *shakes head* You couldn’t make it up!

I have wonkers


Lashes, Munki and myself were having one of our deep, emotionally mature and intelligent discussions the other day about growing pains. Oh ok then, we were having a multi generational girly chat about absolutely nothing and having  a lovely time doing it. Boofuls gave up trying to join in and beat a hasty retreat back to the safety of his computer desk so he didn’t have to try and make sense of the flow of consciousness emanating from us.

It seems the Munki, having reached the grand old age of nine, is suffering from growing pains. Blimey, growing pains, that takes me back. When I was a child any ache, pain, twinge or tenderness was put down to growing pains. Basically, unless a limb was hanging off or we were projectile vomiting it was dismissed as growing pains.

Nowadays it’s put down to old age.

Anyway, Munki was describing  a particular pain that she was suffering from  while rubbing her midriff.  I mentioned that she’d had a stitch in her side the previous evening while we were walking the dog, could it be like that? Her reply was, “Oh yeah, it’s like that but now I have one ‘coz”…and then she stopped talking to gather her thoughts.

Lashes and I, at exactly the same time, exclaimed, “Wonkers? You’ve got wonkers?  Well we’d better call an ambulance then. Wonkers can be really dangerous.”

The number of times me and that girl say exactly the same thing at the same time is downright eerie, anyway, I digress.

Poor old Munki  couldn’t catch her breath for laughing.  Then it progressed on to wonkers being a body part and in which part of the body they would be located.

When I told her it had to be down the side she and Lashes both gave me a funny look. “What, Nanny?”

“Well, love. Didn’t you realise that people have two of everything down the side and one of everything down the middle?  So, if you have wonkers, it has to be down the sides.”

It was so funny watching them mentally work their way round their bodies, well Lashes did it mentally, Munki had to touch her ears, eyes, nose and mouth before she got the idea and then  as comprehension dawned their eyes widened and they both said ,  “OHHHHHHH YES!!” at exactly the same time. That’s obviously a family trait being handed down from mothers to daughters.

It’s great living with three generations of us in the same house, we never know what’s going to come out next.

Drectly


Since coming to live in Devon we have discovered that all of the tradesmen seem to work for the same company – Drectly.

We have come across Drectly plumbers, Drectly electrical, Drectly interiors, you name it. They all have one thing in common. Every time you phone them to book an appointment, every one of them tells you – I’ll be there Drectly.

Drectly can be any time between one hour and in the case of one Drectly plumber, three months and still no sign of him showing up.

It’s a very laid back approach to business, a bit mañana but with added pasties and cider.