Thursday, 21 December 2006

"AH DUNNO!"

THE CASE OF THE MISSING MINCE PIES

Sherlock anticant, accompanied by the ever-faithful Civil Partner Watson [did Conan Doyle realise his immortal duo were an item, I wonder?] forayed further than usual from the burrow yesterday, in search of Christmas fayre. Venturing across fog-bound Hampstead Heath to visit a very special baker and pastrycook whose cakes and specialities are absolutely scrumptious, anticant turned his car headlights on and carelessly forgot to switch them off when parking. Result: a flat battery. It took nearly an hour for the AA to ride to the rescue, during which time Sherlock and Watson became distinctly chilly and grumpy. On return, unpacking the goodies, no sign of the mince pies, which Sherlock had – he thought - given to the assistant to add to the pile of mouth-watering loot. Consternation. Will have to make do with inferior supermarket mince pies this year. Oh dear!

After which disappointment, anticant developed a throbbing migraine which laid him low for the rest of the day and prevented him from crafting new delights with which to adorn the burrow. So you’ll just have to wait, folks……

13 comments:

zola said...

I have just written a note to Santa and passed it up the chimney. I hope I was in time. Asked Santa to get you both mince pies.
Santa already gave a quick reply and said that he would try his very best because you had both been very good boys this year.

anticant said...

Thanks, Zola. I wonder how Santa knew we had been good? Do you stable his reindeer, BTW? I've been wondering what your real occupation is up in Lapland.

zola said...

Whatever my real occupation it is not that of Bliar in Iraq.
Santa does not approve and Bliar will not get Xmas presents this year.

anticant said...

What I would like to give Bliar this Christmas is a great big boot up the backside. Peace on earth? Goodwill to all [sexist noun omitted]? Pah!

zola said...

Oh dear me and there was I thinking that Christmas was goodwill and all that.
I guess Bliar would test the patents of a Saint ( or buy a stakeholding ).
What do you think me old still grumpy boot?

anticant said...

I'll be posting another piece of autobiographical angst tomorrow about the farce of "good will to all" at Christmastime. Just you wait!

Merkin said...

Mince pies?.
Alimentary, my dear Tesco.

zola said...

A Rum Do all this.
Pass the pudding please.

anticant said...

If anyone's still interested in the everlasting 'faith versus reason' debate, there are some very good comments on Garton Ash's [Freudian slip: I first typed it as "Ass's"!] piece in today's 'Guardian' re respecting believers but not their beliefs.

Anonymous said...

OK, said The Merkin, rushing to the scene of the action whilst shouting to Anticant 'Do ya want haunners?'.

zola said...

Jesus Wept.

anticant said...

Until anticant knows what haunners are, he is uncertain whether he wants them or not. He would like a peerage, but not at Lord Levy's price. His next post, now gestating, will be about honours - seeking and selling of. Have patience!

Boldscot said...

Hauns are hands.
To give haunners is 'to lend a hand' as in 'is he gien you trouble? - I'll gie you haunners'.