Brownlow and the professor’s trousers…

But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s joke is the one about the Prime Minister and the rubber mouse in the dispatch box – oh, how we guffawed later on, down in our dungeon…

‘Good morning Professor – oh, my goodness!’
‘What’s the matter Brownlow, have you never seen a grown man’s legs before?’
‘Sorry sir, it was so unexpected – you sitting at your desk in your underpants, especially with your tweed jacket on, I…’
‘Oh, stop blithering man! Just reach over to the radiator and see if my trousers have dried out.’
‘Yes sir, oh, still a bit damp around the knees I’m afraid – I’ll turn them over for you.’
‘Thank you, and get the kettle on, I’m parched!’
‘So sir, what happened?’
‘Oh, it was that thing for the British Museum, that buffoon, Dr Swyne had me go to
South Kensington – got rather muddy.’
‘Muddy in South Ken sir?’
‘Yes, it was the previously sealed up basement of a Georgian house there just off Edwardes Square, that belonged to Victorian, so-called archaeologist, Sir Giles Plummet. Some very interesting stuff squirrelled away in there Brownlow! Pity the water has seeped in – where the hell’s my tea?’
‘Here you are sir.’
‘No biscuits or cakes today?…’
‘Not yet sir, I…’
‘What do you know about Sumerian city states and fabric manufacture around the Euphrates back in the 21st century BC Brownlow? It was Plummet’s speciality.’
‘Really sir?… I…’
‘Oh yes, one item from his private collection I came across in the slime was of particular interest – very good tea this!’
‘Oh yes sir?’
‘A sort of ancient wooden framework, almost rotted away – those idiots from the BM were totally baffled as to what it was.’
‘Yes, I had to set them straight!… So, no cakes today then?’
‘Oh yes sir, there will be – I was trying to tell you earlier, that my…’
‘You see, the ruler at the time, Ur-Nammu, had one son, who was to follow him, a bright lad – he developed a kind of fabric made from a particular fur from the Lepus Europaeus…’
Oh, er, right… I see…’
‘Very handy for garments in the cold weather – what was that about cakes Brownlow?’
‘Well, as I was trying to tell you sir, my Aunt Cissy…’
‘Ah, fine woman your Aunt Cissy! I have always had a soft spot for your Aunt Cissy… Anyway, it was obvious, to a man of my experience, that this framework thing was for drying the materials for the fabric manufacture after it had had the animal stink washed out of it – speaking of drying, how are my trousers doing?’
‘Oh, still a bit on the moist side professor.’
‘Oh, alright… Look Brownlow, I have just finished my report on the item for Swyne and the boys back at the BM – it just needs a title.’
‘What are you thinking of?’
‘Well how about something simple, and straight to the point – such as, The Ur Heir Hare Hair Airer?’
‘Well sir, I do think that might be a little bit confusing for…’
‘Oh, and what was that you were saying earlier, about your Aunt Cissy?’
‘Oh, she phoned yesterday, she said she’ll be bringing some of her home-made scones for us – oh look, here she comes now sir… Hello Auntie!…’
‘Damn it Brownlow!… My trousers!… Pass me my sodding trousers!…’

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 academia, archeology, celebrities, conversation, drama, Grumpiness, history, humour, information, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Brownlow and the professor’s trousers…

  1. Sharon Mann says:

    Always good to hear from Brownlow and the Professor!

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