The hunt is on

November 15, 2006 at 1:25 pm | Posted in fun at work, nonsense | 49 Comments

Being a heart-stoppingly incredible husband and father while maintaining a full-time career isn’t easy, but somehow I manage.

The past few days have had me working from home, tending to a sick wife and two cranky but lovable offspring, all the while airing my views at important work meetings, smiling with equal parts benevolence and malevolence, educating starving orphans on the risks of having unprotected sex, and dedicating 25% of my profits to charity. It’s been a trying few days, leaving little time for me to study for the exam looming on the grey horizon that is November’s end.

What a bleak bastard of a month. Roll on December 9th. There will be much alcohol consumed, including some of Samuel L Jackson’s Badass muthafuckin Ale.

I’ve had a lot of nosebleeds recently. They’re quite an accurate measurement of my stress levels. Almost every exam or major life event (wedding, driving test, going down on a girl), even some dates, are preceded by nosebleeds of varying intensity.

Just last week as I jogged through the arid Outback towards the moister northern regions, I was attacked by an elf-like creature with hands made of tinsel. He attempted to thwart my search for fresh blue-winged kookaburra (seasoning for a recipe I was working on) by menacingly shaking his shiny foil hands at me. As luck would have it, my nose chose that exact moment to gush, and I doused Tinself (as I came to know him) with lashings of the red stuff, before setting him on fire. His burning attracted kookaburras from miles around. Dinner that night was a talking point among the web community for days. On my way home I sang, to the tune of Dolly Parton’s ‘Jolene’: “Nosebleed, nosebleed, nosebleed, noseblee-eee-eed, I’m bleeding like a piglet cooked for ham.”

Hmmm, just realised that I’ve covered posts on shitting, puking, farting, phlegm and now, nosebleeds. All I need to do is pull one together on pisses I have had, and that will complete Kav’s Bodily Functions Omnibus, Volume 1. Volume 2 will be dedicated solely to some classic tales about wanking.


There is major shit going on at my work at the moment, of particular interest to any of you Scottish blaggers out there. It will undoubtedly make headline national news, and will probably be a bit of an international item as well. Alas, codes of confidentiality and all that cack prevent me from doing anything except dangling this carrot, but those of you with Site Meter and access to Google already know who I work for and can put two and two together from what you’ve already seen in the news about it.

Gah. Fearing for my job does not help the stress levels.



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  1. wedding, driving test, going down on a girl

    You sure it was a nosebleed, fella?

    Also, lay off the funny mushrooms on those hikes, yeah?

    Also, I NEED to know all this about your job. I NEED TO. NEED. NEEEEEED. I NEEEED YOU IN THE BOLLIX.

  2. Táim á lorg, Alba de Paor nach ea?

  3. Let me guess. You’re a professional terrorist planning an outrage in Glasgow?

  4. Cé hé (nó hí, gabh mo leathscéal, a Dhevin)Alba de Paor? An raibh an tainm sin mar nod dúinn, nó cad? An féidir leat an rún a insint dúinn i nGaoluinn, Kav?

    I was going to translate the above in the spirit of inclusiveness, but (a) the gender thing doesn’t work as Béarla and (b) it loses its point.

    Also: about your blood noses… jeez, what a fright to get for the girl??? No encores, I presume?

  5. Is saghs ‘pun’ é an ainm sin a rinne mise suas… idir dhá dteanga. Ach ná chuir as Bearla anseo é!

  6. You guys and your funny codes.

    Maybe Linzi could do a guest spot and do a piece on menstruating. Then you’ll have covered it all…

    Good luck with the work thing! Sounds like a shitstorm is about to be loosed ‘pon ye. Hope you have a good quality poncho.

  7. i havent yet managed to give a guy a nosebleed without punching him one first. It’s on the list though.

  8. a ps…
    Kav, if you go on the pill you’ll have less difficulty and frequency with your nasal periods. You might also consider seeing an Otogynaecologist to check if you’ve endometreosis of the nose.

  9. I saw Alba mentioned, its an invasion of Scotland, those bastards, the bogtrotters are revolting, well they are, have you read their blogs?

  10. Greetings Old Knud, worry not, and google Jessica Alba while you’re at it!

  11. See, Footie, that’s why you should have a Site Meter, and read it.

    Kav, you will be assimilated. Practice saying this: “Hola, mi nombre es Kav!”

  12. I’m sorry for all of the nosebleeds, stress, and illness, but thank you for making me laugh.

  13. I was having a shit day too but that David Hasselhoff picture made all the bad go away.

    I’d like to give him a nosebleed. And not in the sexual sense.

  14. Is piain sa ghabhal é, tusa a bheith á cur fula mar sin an t-am go léir. Beir greim ar an dochtúir. Faigh leigheas agus bí scofánta air!

  15. OK, a Chónáin, a chara! Níl clú dá laghad agam cad ‘tá i gceist agat, ach ní gcuirfinn i mBéarla anseo é! Caithfeá an nóta seo a cuir tré thine anois láithreach!
    Bhí an ceart ag do mhúinteoir ar scoil – Tá an teanga Ghaelach úsáideach – (ag deireadh thiar thall)!

  16. Beir greim ar an dochtúir. Caithfeá an nóta seo a cuir tré thine anois. Ach ná chuir as Bearla anseo é. An féidir leat an rún a insint dúinn.

    I have no idea what any of that means – I just thought I’d try and give the impression that I could speak it to other people who haven’t a clue what’s going on.

  17. I just realised I’m going to have to go from “O” to “Ni”* (and I swear there’ll be fadas someday Mairead 🙂
    *Apologies to the non-Irish speakers.

  18. I would pay LOADS of money to speak it. I mean, I actually searched the internet for a tutor.

    Anyway, I don’t have SiteMeter. So, I won’t know what’s going on with your job until it hits the news. If it has to do with Mexicans, I can help with that. I rock the ‘taco talk’.

    Sorry about your nose bleeds. 😦

  19. lol your life is hilarious

  20. Apologies for the Irish to non-speakers/readers. Devin, you could always opt for the form ….. Bean Uí, or Bean Mhic… meaning ‘wife of’, uisng your partner’s surname.

  21. dont talk to me about stress – its tax return deadline yet here i am casually perusing your blog at my leisure – wait a minute what am i doing aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh MUST WORK!

  22. Behold, this response will demonstrate my ineptitude at my native tongue.

    Sweary: don’t be gross. Yes, it was my nose.

    Conan: Táim á lorg, Alba de Paor nach ea?

    Translation: “I’m impressed, Alba de Paor, isn’t it?” Sorry, I don’t know who Alba de Paor is, so I don’t get this joke…

    foot eater: Close, but Fat Sparrow’s warmer.

    Mairéad: Cé hé (nó hí, gabh mo leathscéal, a Dhevin)Alba de Paor? An raibh an tainm sin mar nod dúinn, nó cad? An féidir leat an rún a insint dúinn i nGaoluinn, Kav?

    Translation: Who is [masculine form] (or who is [feminine form], pardon me, Devin) Alba de Paor? Is that name a hint to us, or what? Would you like to tell us the secret in Irish, Kav?

    Sorry M, I can’t yet. Don’t worry, it’s not that big a deal.

    conan: Is saghs ‘pun’ é an ainm sin a rinne mise suas… idir dhá dteanga. Ach ná chuir as Bearla anseo é!

    Translation: It’s a bit of a pun I did on that name up there…in two languages. But don’t translate it to English!

    I still don’t fucking get it. What’s the joke? Curse my illiteracy.

    Andraste: Hmmm…I’ll put it to Linzi and see what she says. Interesting.

    And good stuff…getting warmer.

    taihae: It takes remarkable skill. I suggest a lot of practice, and pick a guy who’s prone to them anyway.

    conan: I’ve been told to get it cauterised on numerous occasions, but I don’t want to. Tis my own fault.

    old knudsen: Aha, a clue! Good man. I’m still lost as to the double meaning though.

    conan: Jessica Alba…excuse me while I wipe up the drool and jizz from my keyboard.

    fat sparrow: Bingo. You’re the man, girl.

    sassy: I aim to please. The main thing is that people leave happy.

    whyioughtta: Yes, the man is a cunt, puppies or no puppies. I met him once. I love telling people that.

    bock: Is piain sa ghabhal é, tusa a bheith á cur fula mar sin an t-am go léir. Beir greim ar an dochtúir. Faigh leigheas agus bí scofánta air!

    Translation: It’s a pain in the bollix, you bleeding like that the whole time. Grab a hould of a doctor. Get a cure/medicine and be done with it! (Not sure about this – never heard of “scofánta”. Just had to presume.)

    I know, I know. I should. Maybe I will someday.

    mairéad: OK, a Chónáin, a chara! Níl clú dá laghad agam cad ‘tá i gceist agat, ach ní gcuirfinn i mBéarla anseo é! Caithfeá an nóta seo a cuir tré thine anois láithreach!
    Bhí an ceart ag do mhúinteoir ar scoil – Tá an teanga Ghaelach úsáideach – (ag deireadh thiar thall)!

    Translation: Okay Conan, my friend! I haven’t really got a clue what you’re on about, but I won’t translate it into English. Throw this not on the fire immediately! Your teacher at school was right – Irish is being used – (in the far west and over there)! (I’m unsure about that last bit.)

    Tell ye lads, when ye respond in Irish, it makes replying to comments a right pain in the hole.

    kim: Now it should all make perfect sense to you. It seems to stem from some shite joke that Conan made. Right Conan? ou best be explaining yourself forthwith, buck.

    devin: Haingear Ní Banríon, nach ea?

    summer: It’s a fairly difficult language – you’d need to immerse yourself in it. There’s tuiseal ainmneach (an cailc), cuspóireach (Choniac mé an chailc), tábhachtach (leis an gcailc), ginideach (can’t think of an example), agus gairmeach (a chailc). You’ll also need to learn about the séimhiú. It’s an awful lot of hassle.

    tom: Cheers, it keeps me entertained.

    Conan: Thank jaysis you posted that in English.

  23. ams: Good girl, that’s the spirit. Keep reading – work is for the weak.

  24. Sir, sir, sir, please Sir… I had it before Fat Sparrow!!!
    The Irish surname De Paor (originally Norman, De Poer) translates / is better known in English as…

  25. Ah, I got you now. Good work. So simple really.

  26. Sweet fucking Chulutha. For one horrible moment I was back in the Gaeltacht asking for bainne agus bia mar bhî an ocrus an Domhain orm, ach nîl fhois agum an focail angus bhí and mna s’teach a miserable old hoor who wouldn’t give you a crumb without humiliating a gal first.
    Fuck that shit. I’m off into the kitchen to smear Paté on toast.
    Fat Sparrow, Tengo muchos palabras para la guerra contra Footie tambien, pobre Footie el hombre mas raro in el Mundo. Footie, si hay mucho gente de irlanda en su pueble la mejor cosa es.. corre para su vida!

  27. Er, agus, not angus, Angus was some bloke off Bosco who wore multi coloured shoes and sang horrible songs.
    You know who I mean.

  28. Fmc, I know exactly who you mean… [uncontrollable shudder]… there was something about Bosco*..

    *a children’s programme on Irish TV, built around the eponymous puppet.. It ran for years, then they repeated them, then they repeated them again, and again… it was like groundhog day in seven-year cycles.

  29. My sister gave me Bosco Series 1 for Christmas last year. Philip and Gráinne, Frank and Mary, the Magic Door, the twin tongue twister things.

    Scared the shit out of me.

  30. you are such a bloody whinner. Good luck with that.

  31. you are such a bloody whinner. Good luck with that.

  32. you are such a bloody whinner. Good luck with that.

  33. Alrighty then, I’ll do my “Irish”.

    “…cut the malarky and get me a cuppa strong hot sweet tea!” I’ve read most of Maeve Binchey.

    I am clueless regarding your post, but I’m glad to be here anyway.

    If your body epic is to be considered complete we’ll need to hear about booggers, ear wax, pus, pre-come and whatever other gushy stuff you’ve got. (that was a revolting paragraph, hmmm)

  34. Well said Jali… and Kav, if the offspring haven’t got nits (US = cooties) yet would they bloody well hurry up… you have a public, you know!

  35. Knock knock
    open wide
    see whats on the other side
    Knock knock
    come with me
    the magic door.
    NIghtmares, nightmares I tell ya.

  36. Kav, Great job on the translations.

    Tá an teanga Ghaelach úsáideach – (ag deireadh thiar thall)!
    The Irish language is useful in the end!
    or as Roy Keane might say “at de end of de day, like”.

    FatMammyCat: I loved that return to the Gaeltacht.

    No more Irish now, unless another secret comes out. I still haven’t got a clue what it’s all about, just having a laugh.

  37. Incidentally, re the Hoff and those Andrex pups… he’s going to wipe his arse with them, isn’t he?

  38. FMC — Ay, pobrecito Footie, tantas teorías de la conspiración, de modo que pocos Site Meter.

    ¿Y una guerra contra Footie? ¿Que ta chinga? ¿No está eso como patear gatitos?

    Y hablar de teorías de la conspiración, yo no tuve la menor idea que español fue un idioma tan común entre el irlandés. Manuel, Inigo, y usted. Hmmmm….

  39. Si si quapa, es muy común aqui. Mucho de la gente hablan in castillano. Yo no, yo habla en un idioma mezclado entre el Catalan, i ingles, irlandes i castillano. Es horrible, pero muy o molt bien/bé! Adios/adieu/slån/ Seeya wouldnwannabeya!

  40. For fuck’s sake.

  41. duckie: Yeah, I heard you the first time, like.

    jali: I will take these suggestions under advisement. Good work.

    conan: Give em a couple of years. The young lad’s hardly got enough hair yet.

    cat: The graphics in that were so gomey. Magic door my hole.

    mairéad: Thanks, I was kind of winging it to tell you the truth.

    The rest of ye flinging Spanish-flavoured insults better cop on. I know I’ll probably have to be learning it soon enough, but right now I haven’t a clue what ye’re on about.

  42. Kav — ¡Ay, Dios mio, qué un gringo usted es!

    Ah, you’ll learn it quick enough. It’s a piece of piss. Way easier and more logical than English.

    Come, join the dark side.

    FMC — ¿Verdad? Yo no supe eso.

    Aquí hablamos principalmente un bastardo, la versión de mexicano de castellano. Catalán sería bastante exótico.

    Claro, si usted habla puro a castellano aquí en California, las personas se reirán sus nalgas lejos.

  43. Ah Bastaro! Como Esperanto, no? Cuado estoy muuuuy buracho yo hable siempre en Esperanto. Mucho, ‘jo Ese, wahtch ju don’ cabron? Andaley, come on, keres un vodka, donde es mi rum? Voy to the muthafuckin Bar Ese, mamacita! Shaaoomooon!’
    Un qué gran placer para los oidos de mis amigos!

  44. Ay caramba, muchachas!
    Kav they’re showing off about Castillian Spanish, and Mexican Castillian Spanish, and Catalan… and Fmc, as you can see, has a seriously fucked up idiom with bits of Irish and English in the mix… there’s only so much you can learn from Speedy Gonzales cartoons…

  45. I went to a gallery show for a graduate student at university. He collected his urine for a month. Then poured each amount into rectanglular glass vases that he sealed. He placed those on shelves and posted the date and time next to them. Looking at the work, I felt like a physician judging his hydration levels. I only needed a white lab coat.

  46. FMC — Dammmmmmn, homegirl, you down wit dat mierde! Born in East LA, were you? You’d be the toast of the town, here in So Cal! Ay, chica, you be getting the props, aiight? I am seriously impressed.

  47. It ain’t no thang, aieeet?

  48. Jeez!! Bórd na Gaeilge and Bórd na hIntegration of Multicultural Diversity would be dead proud of your blog, Kav!!

  49. What a material of un-ambiguity and preserveness of valuable familiarity on the topic of unexpected emotions.

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