Ugg, Lugg, and the turnips…

But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s joke is the one about what happened to Her Majesty the Queen’s hat – oh, how we chortled down in the basement back at Buck House!
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‘Ugg, I have seen you, you know!’
‘Eh?…’
‘I’ve seen you, sneaking off places, on your own.’
‘No, I don’t, I…’
‘Ugg!.’
‘Yes Lugg?’
‘Show me your nice flint axe, the one you spent hours knapping last winter.’
‘My axe? Why would you want to see my… Hey!…’
‘See Ugg, it’s covered with mud… If it was dried blood or a bit of gristle I could understand it, but mud!’
‘It’s only a bit of mud Lugg, look, I’ll wipe if off…’
‘I don’t care! I just want to know where you sneak off to when you are supposed to be helping me and the lads skin buffaloes and pull the guts out of dead bloated mammoths in the hot sun!’
‘But Lugg, the Big Chief Smugg knows I get a bit queasy messing about with all that gore and intestines and stuff – he says I can be excused meat chopping and the messier side of things, so long as I…’
‘So long as you what Ugg?’
‘Well, I bring him things…’
‘Oh? What sort of things?’
‘Just, things Lugg… Ouch! That hurt!’
‘Things Ugg?’
‘Well, turnips for instance. Smugg does like a nice turnip.’
‘Turnips?…’
‘Yes, and Smugg’s wife Phugg, she’s fond of coloured things.’
‘What coloured things Ugg?’
‘The green things with coloured tops.’
‘What? Flowers?…’
‘Well, yes.’
‘They’re no good to eat Ugg, you can’t eat flowers!’
‘She doesn’t eat ’em, she puts them in water in an old monkey skull, on a rock, just inside the entrance to their cave.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know Lugg.’
‘At least they can eat the turnips.’
‘S’pose…’
‘So Ugg, you go wandering off around the hills looking for turnips and flowers then?’
‘No…’
‘No?’
‘No, I have a special place.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s down by the river, just past Zugg and Chugg’s cave, I cleared the rocks off it and… the soil is very nice there.’
‘The soil’s nice?’
‘Yes.’
‘Ugg, you are an idiot!…’
‘Lugg…’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you like strawberries?’
‘Well I…’
‘Here, taste this.’
‘Oh!… Mm… That’s very, er… Ugg… Where did you find this?’
‘Have another, I didn’t find it Lugg, I grew it.’
‘You can’t grow things! Only Great-God-in-the-Sky Umpty-Mugg grows things! Wise-Man Bhugg says so, Bhugg knows everything Ugg!’
‘Oh, speaking of Bhugg, I get things for him as well.’
‘What?… You are friends with Bhugg?… He’s a very strange one you know Ugg – they say he’s in touch with the spirits.’
‘I know, I help him with that too.’
‘How?’
‘I grow special leaves for him, he throws them on his fire, puts an old goat skin over his head, and then he breathes in the smoke…’
‘That’s ridiculous Ugg!…’
‘That’s how he gets to chat with Umpty-Mugg in the sky…’
‘Right… Oh, right…’

And so, gardening and pharmacology were invented.

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in archeology, brain, conversation, cool, drama, dreaming, history, humour, joke, magic, people, religion, smoking, surrealism and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Ugg, Lugg, and the turnips…

  1. Dana Doran says:

    and, the disinformation spreads…..bwahaha!

  2. I just noticed I can comment properly using the phone so I am taking the opportunity to “like” this! They make a nice series šŸ˜„

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