Quite funny folks.. yes CJ.. I would feel rather emotionally violated by that experience..

Foxy.. the Irish :)

Ludwig.. yes mate.. you do need to get out more.. yikes..when your funny bone is only excercized by mocking my moniker ? :) I'm sending you to a Chaplain.

Johnny..I always thought there was a dark perverse side to you :)

Nothing much funny has happened to me lately (since the other one).. just had the flue and car troubles and wet cold miserable (but welcome) weather.. *groan*

You know things are bad when you are bored with cable TV and a recliner chair and a couple of blankies to make you feel cozy.

All the work still piles up. :(

Dear AGIR,

I've got another one for you...

David Niven, actor, and gentleman extraordinary -
had, according to his book, "The Moon's A
Balloon," "one of the most varied lives and
most spectacular film careers of our time."
This story is from the book. Niven tells us:

"We were shooting, "The Pink Panther," in the Italian
Alps...I was required to do something very simple on
skis and the producer, not knowing that I would rather
ski than eat, told me to take the afternoon off and
practice with a ski teacher. So anxious was I to profit
from his rash instruction before he realised I might
break a leg, that I bustled off up the mountain in
my thin (very thin) movie ski outfit, halfwittedly
ignoring the fact that on the top it was 35 degrees
below zero... so cold in fact that no one else was skiing.

Halfway down and travelling fast behind the instructor,
I suddenly got a feeling of absolutely nothing in
precisely the spot where I should have been the warmest...
something was badly amiss amidships. A neon-sign
flashed on in my brain FROSTBITE and cupping my hands
over the danger area, I inadvertently put myself into
the racing position and flashed past the astonished
instructor.

At the bottom three morose and mauve-coloured guides
were warming themselves over a fire of fir branches.
"Catso gelato!" I yelled in my shaky Italian.

The men were galvanised into instant action. This was
a fate worse than death.

"Put it in the snow," they shouted, plucking feverishly
at my zipper.
"You put yours in the snow," I gibbered, "mine's cold
enough."
My instructor arrived. "Alcohol!" he commanded. "We put
it in alcohol!"

We all clambered into his ancient car and I was driven through
the main street of Cortina d'Ampezzo, one of the choicest
resorts in the Alps, lying in the back with four
horny-handed mountaineers, trying to keep the circulation going
in my stricken friend.

cont'd ...

cont'd ...

"In the bar of the Hotel de la Poste, smartly dressed
clients finishing late lunch, gaped in amazement as
we clumped to the bar and yelled at the barman to fill
a brandy glass to the brim with whisky "prontissimo!"

In the lavatory, while the Italians formed a solicitous
clucking semi-circle, I faced the agony of the thaw and
prised out of my ski pants a pale blue acorn. Into the
whisky it went and the pain was excruciating. This moment
was chosen by a smart Milanese nobleman whom I happened
to know to enter with a view to relieving himself. He
took in the tableau at a glance.

"David," he asked in a horrified voice, "what are you
doing?"

"I am pissing in a brandy glass," I muttered between
clenched teeth.

"I always do."

<< Into the whisky it went…. >>

Into the whisky WHAT went??

Oh THAT!

Ooooow….

.

Very entertaining stuff Foxy ( :>)

Dear Ludwig,

Thanks Ludwig.

However, if you liked the story -

You really - should read Niven's book,
it's the "funniest volume of reminiscences
for ages ... forthright, bawdy, and hilarious!"
Remember the title: "The Moon's A Balloon."

Okay, Foxy - I believe we mentioned this book on another thread - I had forgotten just how funny it was - and superbly written....I'm going into the other room to take it off the bookshelf as soon as I've finished this post - must be time I dipped into it again.