LL-L "Etymology" 2007.05.04 (02) [E]

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L O W L A N D S - L  -  04 May 2007 - Volume 02

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From: Mark Dreyer <mrdreyer at lantic.net>
Subject: LL-L "Etymology" 2007.05.03 (04) [E]

Dear Pat Reynolds

Subject: LL-L "Etymology"

> Mark Dreyer wrote "who could possibly not know the origin of the shaggy
dog story?

> Well, the four scholars of the OED & I don't!  Could you enlighten us?

Well, all five of you should go to the pub more often - it's that kind of
joke. Try the Bird & Baby in Cambridge.

"This bloke I know - Thank you, I will - spotted an ad in the New York
Times, 'Missing, a shaggy dog. He is a castrated male, has lost his right
eye & left foreleg & ear - Cheers - & has been declawed & debarked. He has
bad halitosis & he drools, & answers to the name of 'Lucky'. Substantial
reward...  As soon as he put the paper down on the table in front of him he
sees the self-same dog hopping out of the restuarant. No sweat, he pays up &
goes after the dog. Substantial rewards don't grow on trees you know!

He damn' near lost everything the dog was missing in the next five minutes,
the traffic in Karachi is not kind. Anyhow he tracked it down, & bibed this
bloke a couple of pice to let go of it, & back to the airport.

They were a bit difficult about it in Teheran. He  told them it was a lion
& he was it's handler, & they walked wide of them.

He had time off so he dead-headed on to Alexandria with the damn thing, &
lost it in the ladies in international departures. He mooned around at a
loss - yes, a bitter, a small one - until this woman screeches out at forty
knots, wailing that there's a lion drinking out of the toilet bowl. So our
hero sashays in & grabs it out of there & the ladies pass the hat around for
him, his kind of luck.

Same trick in Da Vinci.

Well, he managed to lose it in Heathrow again, but the Poms are a
tight-fisted lot & he didn't - no offence, mate - get over half a dollar.
The next stop was Thule, No ladies there. Montreal they know more about
lions; he got a thick ear.

In New York they're tight-arsed about importing dead animal tissue. He said,
who's dead? Customs officer says, this carcase! & kicks the dog. Dog bites
him in the ankle. He still has all his teeth - my shout? Wait a bit, I'm
nearly done. Oh, thank you; a small one - it cost a dollar to buy him off.

So he still has this address, & takes the underground to the Bronx & rings
the bell, & a bloody English butler opens up, & looks down his nostrils &
says, 'Yeees?'

'You're missing a shaggy dog. I brought him.'

Well the butler looks him over thoroughly, then he says. 'No. not that
shaggy.' & shuts the door in his face."

If your audience is drunk enough, or you are, you can drag the tale out to
closing time. That is THE ancestral shaggy dog story, forerunner of all
other pointless anecdotes with an infinitely extendable story-line,
dependant on the patience or sobriety of the hearers.

Yrs bibulously,
Mark

•

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