Chan Singh his luck

Cold-caller (with a very strong Indian accent): Can I speak with the home-owner please?
Richard Carter: Hello, speaking.
CC: Hello, my name is Jackie. I am calling to tell you…
RC: What? Is your name really Jackie?
CC: Erm… Yes.
RC: Wow! I would never have had you down for a Jackie! What's your surname, Jackie, as a matter of interest?
CC: Erm… My name is Jackie… Chan.
RC: What, as in the movie star? The chap who does all that kung fu?
CC: Erm…
RC: He's great! Did you ever see that film where he fights with those ladders?
CC: …?
RC: … Is your name really Jackie Chan? That's amazing! Isn't he Chinese?
CC: Erm… My name is Jackie Chan Singh. Erm… My parents are big fans of his.
RC: Wow! That's totally unbelievable! How can I help you, Jackie?
CC: I am calling to tell you that your property qualifies for a government grant.
RC: Ooh, that's good! A government grant for what?
CC: A government grant for an upgrade.
RC: FANTASTIC!! Could I use it to build a tower? I've always wanted a tower!
CC: … I'm sorry, sir, I am having difficulty hearing what you are saying.
RC: Could… I… use… it… to… build… a… TO-WER?
CC: Did you say tower, sir?
RC: Yes. Like they have on castles. I've always wanted one. Could I use the government grant to build a tower on the side of my house?
CC: Erm…
RC: And possibly a moat?

At this point, the phone line went dead. A power cut wherever Jackie was calling from, I'll bet. Or something like that. I tried dialling 1471, but his number had been withheld. I suspect he'll call back when the power comes back on.

In the meantime, here is Jackie Chan—the Chinese one—fighting with the aforementioned ladders:

Richard Carter

A fat, bearded chap with a Charles Darwin fixation.


  1. He certainly took steps to deal with them.

    Five points deducted?

    I'll get my coat!

  2. When Titian was grinding rose madder

    His model was posed on a ladder

    Her position to Titian

    Suggested coition

    So he ran up the ladder and had her.

    I'll be in the scorpion pit...

  3. Zim, that happens to be my second favourite limerick of all time (read in a book of Henry Root letters). My favourite:

    A mosquito was heard to complain
    That the chemists had poisoned his brain.
    The cause of his sorrow
    Was paradichloro-

    (Nothing to do with ladders, obviously, but just saying.)

  4. Ooh mi' DDT.

    One for Nite Owl?

    A pastime obsecene and unsavoury

    Keeps the Bishop of Durham in slavery

    With ridiculous howls

    He deflowers young owls

    Which he keeps in an underground aviary.

  5. My favourite limerick?

    There was a young scot called McRae

    Who buggered his father one day

    Saying...I like it rather

    To stuff it up father

    He's clean & there's nothing to pay

  6. Eating supper in my comfy chair

    I was soon overcome with despair

    Something's soured my youhurt

    It must be that boggart

    I'll get my coat, it's over there

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