Son, Give Me Back My Trousers
By John Martin
()
About this ebook
If you need to find out how to turn teapot cosies into fashion accessories, this is the book for you.
This is a collection of funny columns that have appeared in various Australian newspapers and on John Martin's website.
John Martin is better known these days as the writer of humorous mysteries but this is a nod to his past as a journalist.
If fashion isn't your cup of tea, perhaps rats are. Find out how those beady little eyes live on in John Martin's mind many years after he was marooned on a desert island. Or find out how Beethoven made a kerfuffle refuffle.
These columns are ideal for short reading before bed. He even tells a bedtime story for losing weight.
John Martin
John Martin is Associate Professor of History at Trinity University.
Read more from John Martin
Jack and the Jellybean Stalk Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Romance of Rubber Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLost Source Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Raid Over Berlin Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Good Cat!: A Proven Guide to Successful Litter Box Use and Problem Solving Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Potato Thief Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDifferent Stripes Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsRecovery Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Last Courier Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsPerseverance: Growing Up Cherokee Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsPathway to Recovery: A Spiritually Based Program of Recovery Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMajor B.S. comes to the end of his Rope Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHelp Me Get Rid of My Psycho Girlfriend: A Novel Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Related to Son, Give Me Back My Trousers
Related ebooks
A Hunter's Fireside Book: Tales of Dogs, Ducks, Birds, & Guns Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Paper Cuts: Dodging Deadlines, Celebrity Run-Ins and Other Stories I Told the Internet Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsRotten School #11: Punk'd and Skunked Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Leaning Tower of Pizzazz Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLame Jokes Rule: 500 Eye-Rolling Jokes, Puns, Guffaws, Gut-Busters and Groaners Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsFrom the Top of My House Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMaking the Most of All Nine Lives: The Extraordinary Life of Buffy the Cat Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsUncle Pirate Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5How to Be a Woman Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Fishing Queen Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsFROM THE OUTHOUSE TO THE PENTHOUSE: The life and lessons of a Serial Entrepreneur. Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsYear of the Rooster Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Out of Stock, Sir! Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsBad Dad Jokes: Dad Jokes, Redneck Humor, Classic Vaudeville Skits and more! Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsPheasant Hunting Tactics and Strategies Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAre You Kidding Me? Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDeep Within: Stories of a Faded Heritage Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsOh My God, I Forgot the Plug ... And Other Stories From a Misguided Youth Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLoose End Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Baby Steps Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThrowing Shadows Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Pebbles from a Northern Shore Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Wannabes Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCoffee Table Comedy or Coaster Fodder Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsInto the Twilight, Endlessly Grousing Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5An Extraordinary Life...Once You Take Out All of the Boring Crap Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHot Dog and Bob and the Seriously Scary Attack of the Evil Alien Pizza Person: Adventure #1 Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Neddiad: How Neddie Took the Train, Went to Hollywood, and Saved Civilization Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLittle Wild Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSTOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: The Indian Girl He Couldn't Forget Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5
Humor & Satire For You
Love and Other Words Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Swamp Story: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Best F*cking Activity Book Ever: Irreverent (and Slightly Vulgar) Activities for Adults Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Don't Panic: Douglas Adams & The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I Will Judge You by Your Bookshelf Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Screwtape Letters Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A Man Called Ove: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5101 Fun Personality Quizzes: Who Are You . . . Really?! Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Killing the Guys Who Killed the Guy Who Killed Lincoln: A Nutty Story About Edwin Booth and Boston Corbett Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Plato and a Platypus Walk Into a Bar...: Understanding Philosophy Through Jokes Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Anxious People: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I Can't Make This Up: Life Lessons Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Mindful As F*ck: 100 Simple Exercises to Let That Sh*t Go! Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Big Swiss: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Tidy the F*ck Up: The American Art of Organizing Your Sh*t Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Maybe You Should Talk to Someone: the heartfelt, funny memoir by a New York Times bestselling therapist Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Soulmate Equation Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5In a Holidaze Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Everything Is F*cked: A Book About Hope Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Britt-Marie Was Here: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Go the F**k to Sleep Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Farrell Covington and the Limits of Style: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer: A Novella Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5How to Stay Married: The Most Insane Love Story Ever Told Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Solutions and Other Problems Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The 2,548 Wittiest Things Anybody Ever Said Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Everything I Know About Love: A Memoir Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Nothing to See Here: A Read with Jenna Pick Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
Related categories
Reviews for Son, Give Me Back My Trousers
0 ratings0 reviews
Book preview
Son, Give Me Back My Trousers - John Martin
Also by John Martin
Funny Capers DownUnder
The Wrong Magician
Daddy's Great Escape
Escape from Mad Bill's Island
Blast from the Past
Windy Mountain
Lie of the Tiger
Blokes on a Plane
Whitey and the Six Dwarfs
Blokes in Donegal
Blokes in the House
Who Knew Tasmanian Tigers Eat Apples!
Who Knew Tiger Sharks also Eat Apples?
Standalone
Major B.S. comes to the end of his Rope
Son, Give Me Back My Trousers
Jack and the Jellybean Stalk
The Potato Thief
Give us our Tasmanian tigers back, Noah
Different Stripes
Watch for more at John Martin’s site.
SON, GIVE ME BACK MY TROUSERS
FUNNY COLUMNS
BY
JOHN MARTIN
Copyright © 2016 by John Martin
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Front cover image: AI generated
CONTENTS
There's gold in them thar fish
Son, give me back my trousers
A glove letter on the fridge to my homecoming wife
Rebel with a Pause
Turn that funky music down, boy
Why my Elvis dream ends badly
There's gold in them thar urinals too
The mother of all kerfuffles
Things that go arghhh in the night
Rats, we're not alone
Getting crabby with a claw hammer
Have electric guitar, will torture
Taking a leaf out for a good cook
Whole Lotto shaking going on
Why the three wise men bared their soles
There’s a Pollywaffle in my plonk
Can you keep a little secret?
Just a matter of common scents
Are you feeling clucky, punk?
Colour and kitchen movement
A Dear John letter to the coach
Don’t hobnob with doorknobs
Why I have an ironing deficiency
Erasing eyebrows and departing hair
A bedtime story for losing weight
Fiend rises from the Ashes
Hey puss, did you get fries with that?
Holy donkey Eddie Murphy gets the last laugh
A blast of Monty Python at my job interview
The day the magic left my underpants
Following in my religiously experienced footy boots
Sitting the big test
Itching for the right Christmas tree
Redefining the childcare bottom line
Help, someone has sewn up my hole
The man in orange is always right too
Um, that ain't our cat!
Wimping out overground, underground
Crying over spilled milk, cowpats and lettuce
Fixing it next week, with yesterday’s skills and tomorrow's prices
Skippy, the ambushed kangaroo
Fame and fortune finds me at last
Public liability issue cuts deep for us chess players
Why I am a mellow yellow fellow who is glad to read the fine print
Preparing for the second-coming of Bob
Raiding the fridge is all relative
Take me to your footy leader
The Iceman cometh to a sticky end
Reminiscing about my school song *hit parade
Santa goes offshore and beyond
My sceptical carpet ride
Message in a bottle from a washed-up nervous flyer
How answering machines can drive you bananas
One small step for man, one giant leap for Slowhand
What a curable romantic I am
All stressed up, no way to mow
There's no business like showbags business
miSNAKEn identity
On the cutting edge with the Swiss Army
Tie a yellow necktie 'round the old snakey
More funny than you can poke a stick at
Are the wings still there yet?
Merry Fishmas, my final letter for the year on the fridge
Stay in touch by following my blog
About the Author
Author's note
My novels
THERE'S GOLD IN THEM THAR FISH
Ihad to tell my friend Orville today to go get a haircut, so I could test my fish theory.
But I don't need a haircut,
he protested.
Sheesh, he sounded a lot like I did when I was a teenager and my father used to say: Why don't you go and get a haircut, you long-haired lout?
I don't need a haircut,
I would say.
And it was true. My hair was rarely all that much longer than dad's.
My father could never see that.
I do see Orville's point, however. My guess is that he has not really needed a trim since the last of his hair follicles fell out about five years ago and he became completely bald.
You can wear a wig if it worries you,
I told Orville. Just make sure that Guiseppe is the one who cuts your hair and let me know if he says anything about making money from breeding fish.
Fish?
said Orville
Yes, Guiseppe cut my hair this morning and it came up in our conversation, right after he enquired about how I filled in my spare time.
If I were you,
he said, merrily snipping away, I'd get into breeding pets.
Pets?
I said.
Yeah, lotsa money to be made breeding pets,
said Guiseppe.
I know a fella who breeds fish and sells them for $5 a centimetre. Five centimetre fish, $25 dollars. Easy money. He breeds millions of fish at a time.
No kidding?
I said as he picked up the cut-throat razor. Does he sell millions at a time, too?
Hundreds, anyway,
said Guiseppe, as he lathered the back of my neck. I tell you: it's easy money.
It was at this point two thoughts flashed through my mind.
• If the money is so easy to make, why doesn't Guiseppe make a fish-breeding career change; and
• Maybe this is just how barbers get their kicks on slow days. They have bets with the other barbers to see who can string along the most customers. Before they know it all their customers have chucked in their jobs and are breeding fish. Or other pets.
Not that I have ever thought of fish as pets.
When I think of pets, I usually think of critters that drink from a bowl, not live in one.
Creatures that you bury in the garden when they die rather than flush down the dunny. I just hate large family funeral processions in the usual tranquility of little room.
I certainly do not generally think of things with fins when I think of pets.
I know another fellow who breeds birds,
Guiseppe went on. Or he used to. He had to let them all go during the January bushfires. I don't know what kind of birds they were but he used to sell chicks for thousands of dollars a breeding pair.
No kidding,
I said. I did not say it but I thought it: they were probably geese who laid golden eggs.
Orville was less diplomatic with me.
You don't really believe all that?
he said.
No, but you can't be too sure,
I said. That's why I want you to go in there, undercover, and see if they tell you the same story.
But I think they'll see through my disguise,
said Orville.
If they do, just tell them you forgot you're bald. You just want to look your best for your fish's funeral.
SON, GIVE ME BACK MY TROUSERS
Ihave no idea why I have never been head-hunted for a position as a fashion consultant.
Possibly it is because I think fashion crazes are confidence tricks.
Call me cynical, but I think they are designed to make money for the movers and shakers and con people in the fashion industry.
Boss: ''We seem to have 100,000 excess pink and yellow teapot cosies in our storeroom. What are we going to do with them?"
Fashion designer: No worries. We can market them as hats and tell the customers that they're all the rage in Paris right now.
Thankfully, I have not seen too many human teapots in my neighbourhood lately.
I have, however, seen countless male teenagers dressed in oversized trousers, sloppy sports jumpers, boots and beanies.
What's wrong with that?
Well, it would be perfectly OK if we were in depths of winter and they were simply trying to keep warm.
But it has been swelteringly hot here in Canberra and I have to feel sorry for anyone whose head is encased in a woollen beanie and whose feet are encased in big, heavy boots just because some fashion guru has decreed them to be fashionable.
I stop short of calling the young men Stupid! Gullible! Sheep-like!
I guess they just want to look hot.
Mission accomplished. They look very bloody hot.
I can understand where they are coming from, I guess.
I was a teenager once so I know something about the generation gap and a teenager's desire to be different.
My father had short hair. I had long hair.
My father wore sombre grey suits. I had a loud purple suit.
He had thin, dark ties. I had wide ties adorned with pictures of coconut trees and naked ladies.
But never, ever, ever did I borrow any of his clothes.
So what is it with the oversized trousers I see so often?
They must be three to four sizes too big.
Hey, kid,
I feel like saying. Why don't you give your father back his trousers? He needs them more than you right now. But don't worry. One day he will die, and you will inherit them. Legally. And I promise you will grow into them by middle-age.
I have to stress, I never actually say this.
Mostly, the young men are on skateboards and are simply too fast to get away.
Funny that. You'd think they'd covet my trousers now that I have a middle-aged girth.
I guess they are just wary of me because I wear a very fashionable pink and yellow teapot cosy on my head nowadays.
A GLOVE LETTER ON THE FRIDGE TO MY HOMECOMING WIFE
Welcome back Katherine,
Before you ask, I can explain why the fridge is now full of stubbies of beer when no doubt you half-expected it to be still full of all the healthy green things you left in it.
I know I promised to take good nutritional care of our six-year-old Jack while you were away this week. Once again.
But, well, something else came up that prevented this. Once again.
On the credit side, I did provide Jack with a varied diet for his main meals during your absence. We had takeaway pizza with pineapple and ham on Monday, takeaway pizza with tomato and onion on Tuesday, takeaway pizza with egg and ham on Wednesday and takeaway pizza with chicken and cheese on Thursday.
He seems to enjoy takeaway pizza which, I think, is a good thing. It expands his culinary experience and teaches him to be adaptable.
And I am sure you would agree that he learnt a nice lesson from what we did with all the healthy green stuff you left in the fridge for us.
We bunged it in a charity bin.
Gee, there was rather a lot of it, Katherine. Heavy too.
But we got it there by making two trips in the car, stacking it in the boot neatly and making good use of the roof rack.
I am glad now I insisted on all those extras, including the roof rack, when we bought the car.
I bet you are glad, too, that at Christmas, while we are stuffing our faces with turkey, ham, cake and mince pies, some folks less privileged than ourselves will be eating all that healthy green stuff. Another nice lesson for Jack.
Sorry I had to leave this rather impersonal note on the fridge, Katherine.
How was your conference?
It is good to have you home again.
I would have been here to greet you in person but I had to duck out to pick up another takeaway.
I was going to cook