Answer to "Test your English comprehension" (31/8/25)

Looks like all our readers are clever, and managed to figure the puzzle out on their own. Either that or some are too shy to tell Walt they couldn't get it. 

OK, here's a clue. This * is an asterisk. Read the verse out loud. Geddit now?

Test your English comprehension

See how long it takes you to decode this excellent pun.

Suzy Smith put on her skates

Upon the ice to frisk.

Her friends all though her slightly mad

Her little *.

Geddit? Ed.

Footnote: When I started looking for a suitable photo by entering "girl skater" in Google's image search window, all I got back was images of girls skateboarding! When I amended the search to "girl ice skater", the first five images to appear were girls of colour.What does that tell you about AI and the biases baked into the big search engines?

Please excuse Walt's absence...

Ed. here. The NHL Canadian Division playoff series between the Montréal Canadiens and the Toronto Maple Leafs gets under way in Toronto in about an hour. Walt and our National Sports Editor, Poor Len Canayen, are holed up somewhere -- neither Toronto or Montréal -- to watch the proceedings on TVA, so they won't have to listen to the insufferably woke Ron MacLean on CBC. 

They are therefore incommunicado. Besides that, I can't reach them on the phone. So, to fill this space, I present an amusing anecdote from Court Jesters, a book of funny and (mostly) true stories about Canadian lawyers and judges, by Peter V. MacDonald QC, a barrister and solicitor from Hanover ON, not 1000 miles away from Fort Mudge. Here's one of the tales he collected.

Mr Justice James Mitchell, of the Supreme Court of Alberta, delivered a line that's considered to be a western classic in a bestiality case involving a man and a pig.

Three neighbours testified against the accused farmer, but since all three denied reporting the incident and there were no other witnesses, defence counsel submitted that their evidence was not trustworthy.

"My Lord," the lawyer said, "if they were the only persons who allegedly saw anything, and they deny reporting anything to the authorities, who did report this alleged incident? How did the authorities even know about it?"

"Maybe," Mr Justice Cairns suggested, "the pig squealed."

As we come to the end of the day, two thoughts...

Just watching the latest videos from America's cities, and am thinking... When is a riot not a riot? Answer: when the lamestream media say it's a "protest". Seems like there's a lot of protests going on this weekend... and entirely too much arson around...

Between the race riots -- for that's what they are -- and the corona virus, I see a bright future for funeral homes and coffin makers. Those stocks should be recession-proof too. Buy `em while they're hot, especially if you can find a manufacturer who's making the latest craze -- glass coffins!

Thanks to Agent 6 for that crystal-clear observation.

For more about another pandemic, and coffins tailored to fit today's "average" American, see "FAT in life, FAT in death", WWW 14/1/12.

Meet Amanda Lynn

According to Wikipedia, Forbes, IMDb and various online resources, famous Instagram Star Amanda Lynn's net worth is $30 Million at the age of 30. She earned the money being a professional Instagram Star. She is from Florida.

Thanks and a tip o' the toque to Agent 34. Looking forward to an eyeball-to-eyeball on the weekend, weather permitting.

A romantic encounter with a redhead

Poor Len Canayen here. Walt is feeling poorly again [Who's Poorly? Ed.] and isn't up to writing, and I don't want to say anything about les Glorieux until this time next week, so I'll just pass along this nice little story that Agent 6 told me.

A man was dining alone in a fancy restaurant. A gorgeous redhead was sitting at the next table. He had been checking her out since he sat down, but lacked the nerve to talk with her. Suddenly she sneezed, and her glass eye came flying out of its socket towards the man. He reflexively reached out, grabbed it out of the air, and handed it back.

"Oh my! I am so sorry!", said the woman, as she popped her eye back in place. "Let me buy your dinner to make it up to you."

They enjoyed a wonderful dinner together. Afterwards they went to the theatre and then to a bar for drinks. They talked, they laughed, she shared her deepest dreams and he shared his. She listened to him with interest.

After paying for everything, she asked him if he would like to come to her place for a nightcap and stay for breakfast. They had a wonderful, wonderful time. The next morning, she cooked a gourmet meal with all the trimmings.

The guy was amazed. Everything had been so incredible! "You know," he said, "you are the perfect woman. Are you this nice to every guy you
meet?"
"No," she replied, adding...
...
...
...
"You're just the first man who happened to catch my eye."

Agent 34 explains the origins of the Mexican national holiday

Ed. here. This has been a slow news day in this corner of the forest. So we are much obliged to Agent 34 who sent us this explanation of the origins of the national holiday of Mexico. Muchas gracias!

Elvis Costello and ABBA

Thanks and a tip o' the toque to Agent 34, to whom this message: Walt expects to be up your alley within the next six weeks.

Korea - Must we go there again?

There's been a good deal of sabre-rattling in Pyongyang, North Korea, lately. Weapons-displaying too. Like a youngster who has just reached puberty and is unsure about his manhood [Does size matter? See post below. Ed.], the Dear Leader of the world's last Stalinist dictatorship [What about China? Ed.] has paraded his totally tubular ballistic missiles to show the world what he can do to us if he gets mad [as understood in British English. Ed.] enough to use them. If he's not firing blanks, that is.

Should we be worried? Or should we just ignore the kid's strutting and shouting? Dismissing as idle the threat of a Communist invasion of the Republic of Korea (aka South Korea) was what the USA, on the advice of General Douglas MacArthur, did in 1950. Look how that turned out. "Gee, Walt," (I hear you ask), "How did that turn out?" For the answer, read The Coldest Winter: America and the Korean War, by David Halberstam (Hyperion 2007). Here's an excerpt.

By early 1950 [Kim Il-sung, grandfather of Kim Jong-un] had systematically taken control of all the levers of power. The great problem in his mind was that he ruled only half a country. Above all else, he longed to unleash his increasingly powerful, Soviet-trained, Soviet-equipped, well-disciplined army to invade, and to his mind liberate, the South, where hundreds of thousands awaited his strike. He would turn two Koreas into just one.

Although the West was, through its own ignorance, taken by surprise by the North Korean invasion of the South, Kim I didn't get `er done. But millions of people -- Koreans, Americans, Canadians, Anzacs, Chinese, etc -- "died for a tie", as Mr Halberstam puts it. Unfortunately for us, the vision of a united Communist Korea persists in the alleged mind of Kim III.

Should we sit back and wait, as we did in 1950, to see if he'll actually make good his bunny-brained threats? I say not. I say we should take action, in the form of a preemptive strike, or at least a demonstration of the kind of power that the USA -- aided by Japan, perhaps -- can unleash should such be required. That means more than sending an "armada" off in the wrong direction!

Let's leave war-mongering for the moment and turn to a little-known story from that time -- part of Walt's effort to make you more knowledgeable for reading WWW! This is about the little-known brother of Kim Il-sung's counterpart, Syngman Rhee, President of the Republic of Korea (South Korea). Mr Rhee is described in The Coldest Winter as "the most irascible, contentious, and independent of totally dependent clients." But, like many other Asian dictators ["presidents", surely! Ed.] he was indeed the client of the USA. The Truman and Eisenhower governments did all they could to prop him up and keep him happy.

One of the things the US government did was to find a job for Syngman Rhee's younger brother, who aspired to be a journalist. Thanks to the close relationship with the Luces, a position with Life magazine was found for the younger Rhee. When war broke out, the editors of Life sent their only Korean staffer to the battle zone to cover the hostilities "from the local perspective". Unfortunately, Mr Rhee got separated from the unit with which he was embedded, becoming MIA.

Fearing a diplomatic disaster, the US Army mounted a search-and-rescue operation, along the lines of Saving Private Ryan, and finally located the missing Korean VIP in a hotel (???) in Inchon. When the sergeant leading the search party burst into the room where his quarry was found, he burst into song... "Ah, sweet Mr Rhee of Life, at last I've found you!"

Most outrageous pun of the YEAR

Although it's not yet the end of November, Walt thinks it's not too soon to declare a winner in our ongoing search for the Most Outrageous Pun. The MOP for 2016 was submitted, just in time for the festive season, by Agent 34. Thank you!

The Mad Lexophile strikes again

Walt has received a communication from across the seas, from Agent 29, who passes along some aaarrgh-inducing puns from a lexophile friend on the other side of the world. Enjoy.

Venison for dinner again? Oh deer!

Did you hear about the cross-eyed teacher who lost her job because she couldn't control her pupils?

When you get a bladder infection, urine trouble.

Broken pencils are pointless.

What do you call a dinosaur with an extensive vocabulary? A thesaurus.

I dropped out of Communism class because of lousy Marx.

I got a job at a bakery because I kneaded dough.

How does Moses make tea? Hebrews it.

England has no kidney bank, but it does have a Liverpool.

I tried to catch some fog, but I mist.

They told me I had type A blood, but it was a typo.

I changed my iPod's name to Titanic. It's syncing now.

Jokes about German sausage are the wurst.

I know a guy who's addicted to brake fluid, but he says he can stop any time.

I stayed up all night to see where the sun went, and then it dawned on me.

This girl said she recognized me from the vegetarian club, but I'd never met herbivore.

When chemists die, they barium.

I didn't like my beard at first. Then it grew on me.

I'm reading a book about anti-gravity. I just can't put it down.

I did a theatrical performance about puns. It was a play on words.

How an Irishman, rather than an Italian, became Pope

Walt had a rare E2E [eyeball-to-eyeball] with Agent 5 yesterday, and came away with this little bit of Catholic humour...

There were two Catholic boys, Timothy Murphy and Antonio Secola,whose lives paralleled each other in amazing ways. In the same year Timothy was born in Ireland, Antonio was born in Italy.

Faithfully they attended parochial school from kindergarten through their senior year in high school. They took their vows to enter the priesthood early in college, and upon graduation, became priests. Their careers came to amaze the world, but it was generally acknowledged that Antonio Secola was just a wee cut above Timothy Murphy in all respects.

Their rise through the ranks of Bishop, Archbishop and finally Cardinal was swift to say the least and the Catholic world knew that when the present Pope died, it would be one of the two who would become the next Pope. In time the Pope did die, and the College of Cardinals went to work. In less time than anyone had expected, white smoke rose from the chimney and the world waited to see whom they had chosen.

The world, Catholic, Protestant and secular, was surprised to learn that Timothy Murphy had been elected Pope!

Antonio Secola was beyond surprise. He was devastated, because even with all of Timothy's gifts, Antonio knew he was better qualified. With gall that shocked the Cardinals, Antonio Secola asked for a private session with them in which he candidly asked, "Why Timothy?"

After a long silence, an old Cardinal took pity on the bewildered man and rose to reply. "We knew you were the better of the two, but we just could not bear the thought of the leader of the Roman Catholic Church being called POPE SE-COLA!"

Mounties get their goat -- a real Canadian story

Readers occasionally ask if Walt is a Canadian making fun of Americans, or an American making fun of Canadians. Let it be remembered that no-one needs to make fun of Canadians, because they quite enjoy making fun of themselves. One has only to watch SCTV's "Great White North" segments, featuring Bob and Doug McKenzie, the quintessential hosers, or watch for the Canadian jokes included in so many episodes of The Simpsons.

One of the big differences between Americans and their northern cousins is that Canucks refuse to take themselves seriously, whereas Americans take themselves much too seriously. That's a fact... a Canadian fact... brought to you by the Canadian Ministry of Facts.

Today we have the perfect example of the Canadian sense of humour in a true story from Warman SK, a crossroads remembered none too affectionately by one of Walt's agents, who passed this along.

Early Sunday morning, two Mounties from the Warman detachment were called to a Tim Hortons in nearby Martensville for an unusual disturbance -- a goat refusing to leave the store (or "coffee and bakeshop", as Tim's is called south of the border).

The RCMP issued a press release -- really -- which confirmed that "There was a stubborn goat refusing to leave the establishment. The employees would ask him to leave and walk him outside, but he would just turn around and come back in through the automatic doors."

RCMP believe the goat was simply cold and decided to sleep in the space. Store employees said the goat ambled through the parking lot, and took a nap in the drive-through at one point. Store owner Camille Barzeele said, "One of [our employees] stayed with him to make sure he didn't get run over, and the other one called the cops."

RCMP said the goat was "arrested" and taken into their cruiser. (No, the Mounties don't ride horses any more, not even in Saskatchewan.) But, they said, "He was very unhappy with this so the members decided to take him home instead of to holding cells at the detachment."


"We are happy to report that the goat is safe and sound back with his owners after his adventurous night out on the town," the press release concluded. "Employees at the Tim Hortons in Martensville see all sorts of customers overnight. This one wasn't kidding around."

How about that, eh?! But when you think about the differences between Canadians and Americans, consider how this story might have played out had it occurred a few hundred miles due south, say in the middle of Wyoming. The errant goat would surely have been shot.

In Canada, if it remained in the store another night, it would only have been taxed. That's right... a tax on real property abutting and abounding on public lands, taxed at the rate of X dollars per front foot. [Aaaaarrrggghhh! Ed.] 

A pun, my word!

Ed. here. Walt is preoccupied with the Scottish independence referendum, which seems odd considering that he has no ties with the Land of the Kilt-wearers, but there you are... It falls to me, then, to find something to fill this space today. So I will tell you a story...


Once upon a time, in ancient Greece, there was an artisan named Benny. Benny was a potter -- a maker of clay pots and bowls and amphorae and suchlike. Benny was produced nice works of art, but like many artists, received only a few drachmas for his efforts. Thus he remained a poor artisan -- in the other sense of the phrase -- and he wasn't happy about it.

Benny kept thinking and thinking about what he could do to become rich. He tried producing bigger and more beautiful urns and bowls, but increased his wealth by only a small fraction. So one day he decided to go and ask the famous Oracle of Delphi for the secret to success.

Pythia (for that was the Oracle's name) said she would whisper the answer to Benny, but that he must understand that the secret came with a warning -- a condition which Benny must accept and follow without question for the rest of his life -- in peril of dire consequences should he ever disobey.

The condition was that Benny must never again shave, but let his beard grow naturally, not even trimming it, until he died. If he did, the Oracle warned, he would instantly be turned into one of his pots!

Benny wanted so very much to be wealthy that he agreed. Sure enough, his work became much in demand. An ever-increasing number of patrons paid him ever-increasing sums for his objets d'art. And lo, he was rich.

But Benny became not just rich, but itchy. The longer his beard got, the more of an inconvenience he found it. It itched. It got in his soup. His wife hated it and his children were scared of it. So one day he thought he would take a chance, and shave it off. What could happen, he thought. It was a long time ago that I made that promise. Maybe the Oracle has forgotten by now.

So Benny shaved off his beard. And the moment he cut the last hair, he turned into a large vase, as you see here. The moral of the story is: a Benny shaved is a Benny urned.

We are very fond of puns, the more atrocious the better. If you know a real groaner, send it to Walt at the usual address and we'll use it one of these days when we're in need of filler. No limericks or clerihews please!