The Rev. W.A. Spooner was reputed to have had a dreadful habit of confusing his message in the process of giving it:

At a wedding he told the groom, "It is kistomary to cuss the bride."

Calling on the dean of Christ Church he asked the secretary, "Is the bean dizzy?"

Giving the eulogy at a clergyman's funeral, he praised his departed colleague as a "shoving leopard to his flock."

In a sermon he warned his congregation, "There is no peace in a home where a dinner swells," meaning , of course, "where a sinner dwells."

Speaking to a group of farmers, Spooner intended to greet them as "sons of toil," but what came out was, "I see before me tons of soil."

Many "spoonerisms" are known to be apocryphal. Better authenticated are some of Spooner's other comments, for example, he once said to an undergraduate he met in the quad — 'Now let me see. Was it you or your brother who was killed in the war?'

During his later years, when he was famous, John Steinbeck's wife, Elaine, brought home a paperback book entitled John Steinbeck, by Frank William Watt. Steinbeck, who often felt he had been misinterpreted by many of the commentators on his life and work, read it with great interest. Finished, he remarked, "This book doesn't seem to be about me, but it's pretty interesting about somebody."

A visitor who called on Thaddeus Stevens during his last illness remarked on the patient's appearance. "It's not my appearance that troubles me right now," Stevens replied. "It's my disappearance."

Cat Lover or Not, this is hysterical!


We've all had trouble with our animals, but I don't think anyone can top this one:

Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.

On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head. The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new acquisition was no problem.


Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.

"Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it."

"You know where the button is," I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam. "Reset it yourself!"

"But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?"

There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a second."

So out I came, dripping wet and butt naked, hoping that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behaviour as extremely cowardly.

Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing.

It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my masculine region.

Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent.
The impact knocked me out cold.

When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me.

Now there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor butt naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-that" paramedics. Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter......and not succeeding.

Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back in to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, which it was.

"What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"

A famously efficient official of the Prussian Imperial Court was once asked how he managed to work so well with the temperamental Kaiser. "His Majesty delights in explaining mechanical contrivances, such as a clock, or a compass, or a barometer," the official replied. "I keep a special barometer, and whenever the Emperor comes in I ask him to explain how it works, telling him I have forgotten what he told me last time. He gives an admirable exposition; this puts him in an excellent temper, and he signs whatever documents I put before him."