When the questions were over, the French-Canadian veterinary research histopathologist to whom I am married and I kissed goodbye to our new friends and tripped out into the ever-cooling Montreal air. "Hello", said the histopathologist, shaking my hand. "As a veterinary research histopathologist, I wondered where you would like to have dinner." "Well", I said, "as an unemployed marketing and /or advertising (delete as appropriate) freelance consultant type thing, I do not mind." (We went here and had soup and salad and steak and frites, oh my.)
The next morning, I cooked for a friend's party. In the afternoon, we went to see Inception and did not drink a bottle of Vitamin Water, which cost $4 and tasted like bison wee. Inception was extremely funny and we laughed and laughed the whole way through. I recommend you go, but only if you get a free ticket. (One of the best bits is where a scientist makes a sleeping draught that that somehow manages to knock you out for a week whilst "not interrupting your inner ear function". Believe me. Much much funnier than it sounds.)
After the cinema we went to the bookshop, which spent over 23 minutes trying to drive us out back out into the Montreal night with a cunning combination of awkwardly-placed Céline Dion biographies, incomprehensible gift cheeseboards and Michael Bublé, the Canadian housewives' favourite, singing "Desperado" by the Eagles through the 'soundsystem'. I bought Daphne du Maurier novels, and the histopathologist, a book about science.
Later that day, we went to a late Thanksgiving dinner. I entered carrying baskets of muffins and sprouts and meringues in my delicate monkey hands. We ate the Thanksgiving food and then we played a game that we only realised was a drinking game after we'd stopped playing it called "What the F*ck" (their coy asterisks). It involved reading out questions in a book and then arguing in a lively style about important topics like whether would rather lose your right arm or your left leg. I am, as it happens, quite a fan of this style of questioning*, but even I fell silent when confronted with these two beauties.
Here they are, reproduced in full, for you to enjoy (and ponder!):
Question 1
Would you rather receive a phone call from:
a) the mayor of your local town; or
b) Satan
Question 2
What would you rather wrestle in straw bales with?
a) a trained and oiled Sumo wrestler; or
b) a pony.
And with that, I say:
Pip "Satan, obv" Pip
NWM
* "Who do you like more? Me or the cat?" "What's your favourite, bread or cheese?" "Of what you have done today, what has been your favourite bit?" "Who's your favourite?" "If you had to decide between biscuits or cake, which one would it be?" "What's more likely, ghosts or homeopathy?". Etc.
7 comments:
That last one is a no brainer. Ghosts are far more likely.
I went to see Inception in the summer. The aircon was broken so I promptly fell asleep and dreamed the whole thing.
1. Satan (obv)
2. A pony (hestitantly)
3. You (I'm allergic to cats)
4. Cheese (obv)
5. Reading a historical novel at 4am
6. My husband (an iPhone programmer / leader of men / expert on the early works of the late Kurt Cobain) and my dogs (sadly deceased)
7. Whichever is gooiest
Tracy - where have you been? I have missed you, like I would miss my right foot (more than my left arm). Agree with you entirely.
John - scream!
Jane - I think homeopathy is more gooey than ghosts. Also, I am laughing very much the hesitant pony. What was the novel?
Also, I am going to start all my sentences with "As a non-workingmonkey". Do you think it'll take off?
1. Satan, natch although I might have to take a pass on this as there is credible evidence that they are one and the same. Only I think Satan would be rather better looking and more clever.
2. A.... erm. Oh dear. Well, the pony would be sort of bitey possibly and I think proper trained wrestlers aren't allowed (outside of American 'pro' wrestling) so there is that, also the pony has hooves which would be difficult. But I think the wrestler would smoosh me, while the pony could be counted on not to understand at all and would maybe think me doing wrestling moves was quite like a sort of really bad grooming and so the pony would move off and eat something perhaps. So I choose pony.
3. You - I'm rather sick of cats at the moment.
4. AUGH! That's utterly unfair. I like both. But only if they're good - bad bread is foul. Plus bread AND cheese are meant to be together so why are you trying to tear them apart? I refuse to answer on the grounds of moral outrage.
5. It's only 11:30 and I've been cleaning and doing errands. Of the two I prefer cleaning as it all looks so lovely when done and, as yet, the cats (see above) have not destroyed it. Still, it's a sad, sad sort of day. I think I need to go hold up a stagecoach or something just to have a better answer.
5. Well I liked Eccleston, but I have to say that Tennant is definitely my favorite. I'm trying hard not to resent the current one.
6. Biscuits. Cake is too sweet usually and people load it up with inches of that horrible white icing.
7.Ghosts, definitely. Although I would also add in Russel Bertrand's teapot, and the flying spaghetti monster (no offense meant to pastafarians everywhere, may he bless you with his noodley appendage, ramen) as equally probable.
Cake! I would choose cake. It is better.
Or maybe biscuits. Because you can dunk them.
Oh dear.
This question will hijack my day.
Post a Comment