Puddledick-Pain on Dating

Puddledick-Pain, financier, philanthropist and general cad casts his eyes over the world we live in and offers his opinions,this time on dating

Note: Any views contained in these pages and not those of the management. Read at your own discretion.

I found this little video when I was clearing out my boudoir the other day. As I rummaged through my selection of good conservative ties, I stumbled on the video [click on icon right] on a USB stick I had been using to carry some photos of some of my personal assistance (as part of the interview process you know).

Not sure who gave it to me, but it did provide me with a comforting view of the fairer sex and the dating game. Damn confusing things women.

For example, I have many people working for me, and I split ’em into two categories. Women and men. Bloody obvious really, but it makes my life a lot easier. Ask the men for intelligent conversation, good humour, jolly banter and a glass of quality brandy after a hard day entertaining clients. As for the women, well that’s how the photocopying gets done.

I did have a bit of trouble recently when some long legged lovely had the impertinence to question my professional judgement. “Look my love,” I said, patting her head to calm the sweet little thing down, “if you had my experience and intellectual nouse you’d understand I was completely right. Now you run along and that’s two sugars in my coffee.”

To prove my point she got quite hysterical at this point, so I offered to take her down to the Blackfriars for a small Babysham and a good seeing to. And do you know what? The ungrateful little madam only turned me down point blank. Which just goes to show, you can’t reason with women in the workplace. Show them a pile of filing, tell them it’s like ironing and walk away and leave them happy”.

Teacher Talks

The Doctor pontificates…

On Whiskey…

Well you don’t spell it “Whiskey” for a start , do you?

Anyway what matters is that it’s not spelt “Chivers Regal” as that’s not even whisky let alone whiskey. What matters even more is being able to tell the difference between whisky and milk, which is bloody simple as long as you can see the label.

Anyway, at least I can drink more than most. Here you can see my first championship win back in the summer of ’87. The secret of winning a whisky drinking competition is mixing it with water and pretending it’s a pint full. Just don’t tell the others, they wouldn’t understand.

On Samphire Hoe…a Dovorian nature reserve…

It obviously is named after either “marsh samphire” a form of edible seaweed used in pickles and now found in England around the North Norfolk coast where it may only be collected for personal use and not for selling to trendy London restaurants. Or, more likely given the location, after “rock samphire” which is a cliff plant with fleshy leaves used in similar pickles (which I didn’t know existed until I looked it up). And from “hoe”, a projecting ridge of land, see also the Scottish “heugh” or “heuch” – a cliff.

Ten minutes later…

Hang on – I’ve been doing my research here, Samphire Hoe is a bloody mound built from tunnel spoilings and named by a competition winner. You are quite right to misspell. It’s just like boat mcboat face.