Tonight on the local ABC radio station, in honour of an interview
with John Bell, we were requested to provide a Shakespearean
version of an everyday event or remark. I rather liked this one:

The English Batsman's Lament (after W Shakespeare)
(To be recited whilst walking from the wicket.)

Punting for glory, I would have strewn the field
. . . . . . . . . .with numberless number'd cracks.
Now all's lost! The Waugh is dunne.
Who would Warne me of what's Hayden here?
Clenched in thy whoreson clutch, a round red globe,
. . . . . . . . . .'twas all my hope, alas,
Now gone entire.

Other jokes going the rounds are what I call "dry humour":

Dry? Worst I can remember in my 72 years. Went to check
the stock this morning & found the ruddy clothes horse had died.

Dry? It's so dry the trees are following the dogs around.
One big old gum was too slow for that & had to learn to whistle.

Dry? It's so dry we've had to send the pot plants out on
agistment.
[permalink][comment] - posted by Mez @ 11/12/2002 11:12:00 pm