Coffee Break

Turning on the T.V. set, I found an interesting quiz programme about identifying strange antiques. Somebody was asked about a piece of ornate pottery, and after toying with it for a few moments, the contestant said:
“Would I drink from it?”
“You might do” said the questioner ”but it’s a spittoon.”
Another contestant said that they liked a beautifully carved Victorian commode, but they “wouldn’t know what to do with it”, and somebody with piggy eyes brought in a painting to sell which had been in the family since 1760, because he wanted to “have a good night out” with the cash. Indeed, most of the sellers wanted to transform their family heirlooms into either “Disneyworld” or “a cruise”, apart from those with a very well developed sense of history, conscience and family honour who just wanted their Grandma’s necklace “to go to a good home”. It reminded me of one of my colleagues who had the same perspective on Grandma herself (“she needs to go to a new home where experts can properly appreciate her”).
“What do you for a living?” the next contestant was asked.
“I’m a stoodent” came the reply.
“Oh, right. Studying which subject?”
“Oh, aye. I’m doing me Masters, like.”


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