It is amazing what you find in other people’s showers. Not that I go round poking around in them mind you. It’s just that occasionally one needs to avail oneself of running water while staying at other people’s places. So recently I was standing under the hot water, bollock naked so to speak, as I have found it pays to undress before showering. Although as an aside I recently had a particularly heavy Sunday away with friends and had not realised I was not quite with the world on Monday. Having abluted in the bathroom I immediately got dressed. It was only when fully dressed did I realise I had not shaved and showered.
Anyway I digress. Back to me in the shower – a splendid vision I am sure you will agree. While lathering up I often get bored and want something to read. I tried The Australian once but it did not end well so I read from the large green bottle of body wash whose contents I was liberally applying to my firmly honed body. The label effusively described the body wash as THE remedy to all of humankind’s maladies and especially friendly to vegans, celeriacs (sic) and other notable conditions.
All was fine until I came to the ingredients, which were listed in Latin. Apparently chemists are also Latin scholars but for us humble Plebs the Latin is normally translated. Not so this time and a very long list of Latin terminology ensued. I was unable to translate having given up Latin at fourteen. This was much to my father’s consternation as he was a Latin scholar, writing Latin poetry at age thirteen, show-off that he was. For all I knew the ingredients could have included vegemite, extract of bees dick or something just as fatuous. At the end of the terminology were warnings:
Do not ingest (which was a bit late for the vegans)
Use in moderation
Any signs of skin discolouration, itching, baldness, scrofula, etc. call the Poisons Hotline
Not exactly reassuring given I was now covered in the stuff. Two weeks later and I realise they forgot to mention exfoliation. I now have bald armpits, which is fine if you are into that sort of thing, but I also have no pubes. I now have to explain that to the Mrs. Wish me luck.
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I have come across an article about the best thirty jokes from this year’s Edinburgh Festival. I liked: ‘I used to be a housewife. But it’s not very fulfilling being married to a house.’ Gritty social commentary I am sure you will agree but my favourite was: ‘Don’t knock threesomes. Having a threesome is like hiring an intern to do all the jobs you hate.’