Category Archives: Humor

Definitions for a ‘Fictionary’

Posted on by The Old Wolf

Something culled from my half-century-old file of random clippings and copies, which are now being digitized. I was amazed, in passing, at how many of these actually had found their way to the Internet over time. This one came up with no hits, and hence deserved to be scanned in and shared.

“Daffynitions” like this have been around for a long time, so it’s difficult to know if these are original creations of Mr. Brandreth, or things he remembered, or a combination of both. Whatever the case, it’s a good collection.

Alphabet Soup

Definitions for a ‘Fictionary’

By Gyles Brandreth

Who was it who first defined the word elliptical as “a kiss” (a lip tickle)? I don’t know, but he was some kind of genius. It has to be the greatest daffynition of all time.

Daffynitions are dictionary definitions run haywire and are specially designed to add hidden dimensions to the words they describe.

G. & C. Merriam Co., the nation’s Largest publisher· of dictionaries, is celebrating its 150th anniversary this year and William A. Lleywellyn, its president, says Merriam will mark its sesquicentennial by “continuing to do what we have always done: develop the most useful English-language dictionaries we know how.”

If Mr. Llewellyn wants to do something really useful to mark his company’s 150th birthday. he’ll take my advice and produce the wry first Merriam-Webster Fictionary it’s a dictionary with a difference: the words are all real. but the definitions are somewhat unex­pected.

To give you (and Mr. Llewellyn) a flavor of what I’ve got in mind here are the daffynitions that I feel definitely deserve a place in the world’s first fictionary:

acorn: an oak in a nutshell
afford: a car some people drive
announce: one-sixteenth of a pound
appear: something you fish off
area code: a sinus condition
arrest: what to take when you’re tired
ashtray: a place where people put ashes when the room doesn’t have a rug
autograph: a chart showing the sales of cars
ax: chopstick
bacteria: the rear of a cafeteria
barber shop: a clip joint
bathing beauty: a girl worth wading for
bee: a hum-bug
beet: a potato with high blood pressure
buccaneer: too much to pay for corn
Camelot: a parking lot for camels
cannibal: one who is fed up with people
chair: headquarters for hindquarters
chicken farm: a large egg plant
conceit: I-strain
crowbar: a bird’s drinking place
denial: where Cleopatra lived
dentist: someone who looks down in the mouth
egomania: a passion for omelets
eraser: what the artist’s wife said when he drew a beautiful girl
extinct: dead skunk
flood: a river that’s too big for its bridges
foul ball: a dance for chickens
gallows: where no noose is good noose
goblet: a small turkey
gossip: letting the chat out of the bag
hogwash: pig’s laundry
home run: a thing you do in a ball game when the ball goes through a window
ice: skid stuff
igloo: an icicle built for two
illegal: a sick bird
incongruous: where the laws are made
information: how air force planes fly
kidney: knee of a baby goat
kindred: a fear of relatives coming
knob: a thing to adore
leopard: a dotted lion
mummy: an Egyptian pressed for time
nail: a long, round object with a flat head which you aim at before you hit your thumb
nursery: a bawl park
operetta: a girl who works for the phone company
ottoman: a car mechanic
out of bounds: a tired kangaroo
paradox: two doctors
paratrooper: an army dropout
parole: a cell-out
pickle: a cucumber in a sour mood
pigeon-toed: half-pigeon, half toad
pink elephant: a beast of bourbon
pretzel: a double-jointed doughnut
printer: a man of letters
propaganda: a socially correct goose
quadruplets: four crying out loud
racetrack: the only place where windows dean people
raisin: a worried grape
rebate: to put another worm on the hook
ringleader: first one in the bathtub
shotgun: a worn-out gun
sleeping bag: a nap sack
snoring: sheet music
southpaw: a daddy from Dixie
tears: glum drops
unabridged: a river you have to swim to cross
undercover agent: spy in bed
vitamin: what you do when someone comes to the house
walkie-talkie: a grounded parrot
washable: to bathe a bull
water cooler: thirst-aid kit
X-ray: belly vision
yellow: what you do when you stub your toe
zoo keeper: a critter-sitter

I add a few others that I happen to remember from somewhere:

rhubarb: bloodshot celery
volcano: a mountain getting its rocks off
booze: Sounds of disapproval.
pun: A weapon of mass distraction.
crustacean: a bakery

The Old Wolf has spoken

The Charmander Conspiracy

Posted on by The Old Wolf

Take one Pokemon, one impaired dude (no judgment, mate, seriously – we all do silly stuff now and then), and a community of delightfuly batshit-crazy redditors, and you have an explosion of recursive, gentle insanity that shows no sign of stopping.

Charmander

This is Charmander. He’s a cute Pokemon creature.

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This is Charmander as envisioned by Vaughn Pinpin over at Hat Boy, in the style of Tim Burton.

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This is the result when you try to tattoo this on yourself, while fuzzed with alcohol and Xanax, and pretty much zero art skills.

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This is what happens when you post said tattoo to reddit, and stuff gets real in a hurry. Above: Digitized version of the tattoo.

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Vinylized version of the digitized tattoo

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Ring made from vinylized version of the digitized tattoo

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Teeshirt version of the vinylized digitized tattoo.

DiFxsDi

The rabbit hole goes deeper: Hoodie version with the photo of the teeshirt of… well, you get the idea.

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MTG card with the teeshirt design

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Plush version of the digitized version of the original tattoo

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Jewelry version of the digitized version of the original tattoo.

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Mosaic version of the digitized Charmander tattoo

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Mouse pad!

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Now 3D-Printed

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8-inch tall Sculpture

As a video game character

Video version of “Crappy tattoo, I choose you!”

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Cross-stitch pattern

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Cross stitched!

embroidered charmander

Embroidered!

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High-quality artwork

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High-def 3D rendering

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Put it on your nails, why not?

YWneaBE

Gif 1

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Gif 2

puQa5LP

Bes’ birfday cake eva.

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How many are beginning to feel about this whole thing…

And the beat goes on. Mind you, all of this went down in just a couple of days; who knows how many levels deep this inception-like mind-twister will go?

Edit: Added 11/1/2015

txJ0ZAL

Crappy Hallowe’en costume.

Not everyone is happy. Some people are like:

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As for me, I’m curious to see how long this lasts.

The Old Wolf has spoken.

Today it’s Italian’s turn: Giecche Enne Binnestocche

Posted on by The Old Wolf

Cross-posted from LiveJournal

I’ve talked about Macaronics before, along with references to Mots d’Heures, Gousses, Rames and Mörder Guß Rheims, and this evening we get to poke gentle fun at Italian, the language of my ancestors.

The following dialogs must be read as though they were written in Italian, or they don’t work well. That means you need to know a bit about Italian orthography.

  • Italian vowels, like Spanish, have pretty much one value each. “ah”, “eh”, “ee,” “oh,” and “oo.” All vowels are pronounced.
  • “ci” and “ce” are pronounched “chee” and “chay”; “chi” and “che” are pronounced “kee” and “kay”.
  • “gi” and “ge” are pronounced “jee” and “jay”; “ghi” and “ghe” are pronounced “gee” and “gay”, with a hard “g”
  • “gn” is pronounced “ny”, as you hear in “lasagna.”
  • Doubled consonants are pronounced slightly longer than single ones.

GIECCHE ENNE BINNESTOCCHE

Uana apanne taim uasa boi neime Giecche. Uorche anna fam – plente, plao, milche cause, fidde cicchense–itse toff laif. Uan dei ise mamma ghiveme binne in tellime: Plente binne enne ghette binnestocche. Datsa giusta uarri didde en sanemagogna, iffe binnestocche no gro uppe uan, tu; tri—fette laiche faire aidrent en itse gadde inoffe binnese tu fidde Bostone tuenti irs. Itte gro aire den olle claudese–iu nevve sin saccie bigghe binnestocche inna u laif. Una ting ua muste no issa data pipple inne Bossatun livva onna binnes anna pipple una longa aylumda livva ona da sahound.

Giecche go picchene, picchene, picchene, aire enne aire, tille pesse di claudese en i si a chesele bilonghe tu giaiant u uonse biutiful uaite gus. Alle taim disse giaiant ise singhene: Fi, Fai, Fo, Fomme, Ai smelle blodde Inglescemen (Itse only songhe i no). Batte Giecche isa Merdicane, so i don gara uorri. Uen giaiant folle slippe, snoren laiche Vesuvio, Giecche grebbe di  uaite gus enne ranne laiche eche. I ghetto omme seif a saond enn i sei tu ise papa: lucche me, i seise, lucche uar ai gatte; Gudde, seise pappa, ui gonne ev ardboil egghese for breghefeste. Neggheste dei mamma boilse egghese, en uara iu tinche? Dei uas goldene egghese, enne pappa brecche ise folse titte.

Mannaggie l’America, i seise, demme titte coste me seveni-faive dollari. Enne i ghive Giecche di bittinghe ove ise laif – i bitte im blecche n blu.

Di morrale ove disse storri ise: Iu gara inoffe trombole in iur onne beccheiard; uara iu gara go lucchen arande for morre?

Now I am a “Merdicane” too… my papa could have done this beautifully, since he was not only a native Italian speaker, but also an accomplished character actor and dialectician. But for your gratuitous benefit, here is a 3.9MB mp3 file of my own rendition of this delightful fairy tale.

Now that you know how it’s done, here are two more that you can try all by yourself:

DI TRE BERRESE

Disse libretto ise for dose iu laiche to follo di spiccher uail ise spicche

Uans appana taim uas tre berrese. Mamma berre. Papa berre. E beibe berre. Live inne contri nire forresta. Naise ause. No mogheggia.

Uanne dei pappa, mamma e beibe go bice. Oreie. A furghette locche di door. Bai enne bai commese Goldilocchese. Sci garra nattinghe tu du batte meiche troble. Sci puschie olla fudde daon di  maute, no live cromme. Den sci gos appesterrese enne slipse inne olle beddse. Leise slobbe.

Bae enne bai commese omme di tre berrese olle sonnebrone enne send inne scius. Dei garra no fudde, de garra no beddse. En uarra dei goine du tu Goldilocchese? Tro erre aute inna strit?  Colle polissemenne? Fette cienze.

Dei uas italien berres, enne dei slippe  onna floore. Goldilocchese ste derre tre uicase. Itte aute ausenomme. En guiste bicose dei esche erre tu meiche di beddse, sci sei, “go cheise iusef,” enne ronne omme craine tu erre mama, tellenrre uat sannimagonnis di tre berrese uer. Uatiuse? Uara goine du? Go complaine sittiolle?

 DI AGGHELI DAGGHELINGHE

Uans appane taim uasa a dacche livene greite bigghe pande. Prirri sunne, sci ghettse taide suimmene olle bai erselfe, becche fort, becche fort. Sci uantse femmeli. So scise goine tu grosseri en baine effe dasene egghese. Aime goine ecci egghese, sciese spighene tu erselfe, enne reise femmeli. Sci eccie, eccie, eccie, naitendei, till di scielse breche en aute pappese sigghese ov di chiuteste dagghelinghese iu evver sin. Dirai sei sigghese? Mai mistecche. Uas onneli faive. Di siggheste uas sammetinghe aute disse uorlde. It edde tuistebicche, fleppeirs, bacchetitte, engheneilse, denderaffe, pagghenose, anciebecche, folinarciese, folingerre, crosseaise, boldelegghese, nacchenise, en piggenetose. Itte uas di agghelieste dagghelinghe inne istori ove uorlde.

Uen i traise uocche, i trippse folse. Uen i traise suim, i ollemost drannese. Lucche uara di chette dregghede inne, ise faive broddese iuste sei. enne dei leffe leffe leffe laiche bancie smarellechese. Den dei go suimmene uaile di pure aggheli dagghelinghe sitsandi eggie di pande craine is lille art aute.

Uanne dei, is pessine bai di manegiere ove di Brongghese Zoo. I sise di aggheli dagghelinghe, barri don biliv itte. Ai bin drinnghene tu maccie, i seise tu imselfe. I teichese de dagghelinghe tu di spesialistese; dei don beliv itte ider. So aut eppense? Dei bilde speciale cheigge for imme; i ghette is neime inne Deili Nuse en tausensa pippele cammene tu teiche lucche. Lestemonte, Senme Goldeuinne ghiveme Allaiuude contreggete en nao i gose naitclabbine wid Dannele Dacche en meicchese vivititausende a irre. Ise broddese stei inne pande, en uanne bai uanne dei endoppe in sambarris dinerpleite.

De morrale ove dis storri ise: ders lattse u lucche chiut inoffe tu itte; au menni arre derre so aggheli dei ghette peide for itte?

Taken from:

BIMONTE, RICHARD IRPINIO
Storris enne pommese fram Mamma Gus.
Including Pommese, Lille Redde Raiden Udde, Giecche enne binnestocche, Di tri berrese, and Di aggheli dagghelinghe.
© Richard Irpinio Bimonte; Ic 12May48

I fount this listing in “Full text of “Catalog of Copyright Entries 1948 Dramas and Works for Oral Delivery Jan-Dec 3D Ser Vol 2 Pts 3-4,” a raw scan at Archive.org; the three poems above were either typed from very old hard copy that I have had in my files for decades, or in the case of “Di Aggheli Dagghelinghe,” found on the web as an “author unknown” snippet. The subtitle makes reference to Little Red Riding Hood and some other poems, but thus far I have found no clues on the web as to where the original volume might be located. If you have a copy, or know where one lives, leave a comment here – I’d love to see the rest of it.

The Oldde Wolfe hese spochene…

Der German is Gebroken

Posted on by The Old Wolf

I’ve written about making fun of the German language before, which included references to Fraulein Bo-peepen And More Tales Mein Grossfader Told, by Dave Morrah, and John Hulme’s Mörder Guss Reims – the Gustav Leberwurst Manuscript, but recently while scanning papers from my mother’s estate, and she has a lot of them, including things her own mother collected, I ran across a few previously unseen gems.

Before we go on, remember that a working knowledge of German was necessary for a serious study of organic chemistry in days gone by; Beilstein’s Handbuch der organischen Chemie was the seminal reference book, so famous that Isaac Asimov wrote a story using the book and the author’s name as its central conceit (“What’s in a Name”).

The following material was found in Newscripts, a column that ran in “Chemical and Engineering News”

Once upon a time, the requirements for a degree in chemistry included reasonable competence in a foreign language. A jocular essay in fractured German in those days could be counted on to convulse a chemical audience. Two such yarns that appeared during 1952 were” Der Franklin und sein Keit” (April 28) and “Der Volta und seine Peils” (June 2). Language skills were declining even then, however, and Newscripts noted only five years later that “To keep up with rapid advances in technology … scientists have had to develop new terms-and also ways of translating these terms into foreign languages. An up-to-date English-German glossary … includes:

Guidance system: Das Schteerenwerke.
“Preset guidance: Das senden offen mit ein pattenbacker und finger gekrossen Schteerenwerke.
“Warhead: Das Laudenboomer.
“Nuclear warhead: Das eargeschplitten Laudenboomer.
“Project engineer: Das Schwettenoudter.” (Sept. 9, 1957)

The following stories should be read aloud in a heavy Colonel Klink accent for best effect:

Der Franklin und sein Keit

(Originally printed, we are told, in the Journal of the Electrochemical Society, some 30 years ago)

Der Franklin der war ein rechter Tschinius, immer bissig mit Inwentschiuns, wie zum Beispiel sein Stohf, den wir bis heute noch bei seinen Namen kennen. “Bei Galli”-so meinte er eines Tages-“es ist doch e’ Skandel und e’ Schem, dass so viele Häuser von Leitning gestreikt werden. Wenn ich das prewenten könnte, es wäre schur eine kühle Million wert. Aber was ist denn eigentlich der Leitning? Ennihau, ich habe e’ Honntsch!”

Also baute er ein Keit, mit einer langen String mit e’ Kieh am Ende, und geht in die Beckjahrt, ihn zu fleihen. Und wenn es zu regnen anfängt, und der Leitning flescht, so steckte er e’ Knockel an den Kieh; un achherrjesses! der Spark rippt ihm zwei Fingernehls und e’ Viertelskwerrfuss Skinn von der Hand ab; und der Franklin weiss nun, von dem Schock, dass Leitning und Electrozität alleik sind.

Sodann steigt er auf die Ruf mit e’ Bumberschuht mit e’ stiehl Händel, und wartet für mehr Leitning; aber die Deborah – das war sein Frau – die hollert, das Sopper sei rettig, und er soll Hörriopp machen und aufwaschen und ins Haus kommen. Also machte er den Bumberschuht an den Daunspaut fest – und das war der erste Leitningrad.

Der Franklin war lockig und so lebte er noch vierzig Jahre, und hatte alle gestumpft-besonders die Lehdis; aber ein russicher Physiker, der den Keitexperiment repieten wollte, wure vom Leitning gekillt;-was alles pruhft, der wahre Scientist hat nicht senns genug, vom Rehn auszukiepen.

– Sol Nemen

Der Volta und seine Peils

Die Studenten in der Universitaet zu Pavia waren Holitaerrers,—die Strietlemps haben sie am Halloween gebostet und die Garbetschkenns gedommpt—und sieben Mal in einer Nacht haben sie dem Prof. Alessandro Volta den Dorrnacker geklappert. Da hat der gute Doktor doch endlich ein Fiuss gebloht. “Nun ist doch mein Limit gerietscht” fuhmt er, “elende Lohfers, euch will ich fixen!”

Und so denkt er nun, wenn andere mit blos zwei Metallstuecke Froschschenkel twitschen machen konnten, was wuerde er nicht selbst mit e’ Koppel hundert Metallpaare akkomplischen! Also nimmt er e’ silber Bock, un e’ Zinkwascher, und e’ Stueck Blattingpapier das er erst in Salzwasser gedunkt hat, un noch e’ Bock, und wieder e’ Zink, und so an, bis er ein Peil von eibettju ennihau 300 Volts hat. Dann hitscht er ein Ende des Peils mit e’ Weier an den Dorrnacker, un graundet das andere Ende, und ohboi! der naechste Bursche, der den Nacker retteln will, wird selbst fuer e’ Lup genackt.

Der Volta reported sein Socksess an dei Royal Society in London, und bald haben die Scientists in allen Laendern auch Peils, – noch viel groesser wie Voltas – und fangen an, Leute zu schocken, und zu elektroleisen, un sogar zu plehten, wie niemand sein Bissness. In Poland gab es zwei Professore, die hatten e’ Brehnsturm und haben die Weiers von der Batterie getehstet! Der erste insistet, es schmeckte sauer, der zweite meint nein, mehr wie Seife; der erste sagt, “Mein Meind is aufgemacht, es ist doch so”; der andere sagt “Balloni!”; und so kommt es, dass noch heute an jeder Batterie e’ positiver Pol und e’ negativer Pol ist.

Volta wurde fuer seine Arbeit von Napoleon geonnert, und seine Stadt hat ihn Praeseident fuer Lief von der Pavianerhalloweenneusundhellrehsungsverhinderungsgesellschafft gemacht. Zwar haben die Buben nie wieder mit seinem Dorrknacker gemonnkieht, doch schon am naechsten Halloween haben sie sien Beckhaus getippt und einen sehr toten Skonk durch sein Fenster gehieft. Und so haben ihm seine Peils am Ende doch viel Trubel gemacht.

I’ve mentioned playing around with French and Latin previously; stay tuned for a little fun with italian, soon to come.

Der Old Wolf hat gespoken.

Two Parachuting Stories

Posted on by The Old Wolf

♬ We Belong to a Mutual Admiration Society ♬

Posted on by The Old Wolf

Mutual

Saw this on my Facebook feed the other day, and just sort of glossed over it. This morning I saw it at reddit and looked more closely, and then i got the joke.

I was immediately reminded of this little bit of silliness which I saw when it first came out, oh, back in the Cenozoic Era or thereabouts:

I always thought these two guys were an absolute crackup; my father, an actor, was full of nothing but contempt for Joe E. Ross for some odd reason known only to himself, although he had great respect for Fred Gwynne and did a small part himself on one episode of The Munsters.

For you young’uns, this is a clip from “Car 54 Where Are You“, a comedy show about two New York cops, back in a day when the police for me were personified by the likes of Officer Joe Bolton instead of the Predator.

The Old Wolf has spoken.

Rune Sore-bees: A Dialog by Shelly Berman, and more.

Posted on by The Old Wolf

(Cross-posted from LiveJournal)

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Shelley Berman, a very funny man

Despite the fact that it has been widely copied and published on the net as an actual conversation from a hotel in Asia, (/r/forwardsfromgrandma) and purportedly published in the “Far East Economic Review” (it wasn’t), the dialogue below never actually took place in any hotel anywhere in the world. It is an intentionally composed humorous fiction and is entirely the creation of Shelley Berman, written as a chapter in his book, published as A HOTEL IS A PLACE, A HOTEL IS A FUNNY PLACE, and A HOTEL IS A VERY FUNNY PLACE, by Price/Stern/Sloan Publishers, Inc. Copyright © 1972, 1985. Any claim to the contrary is utterly baseless and erroneous. I post it here not only because it’s very funny, but because the true attribution (and the correct version) deserves more widespread exposure.

(Reading hints: You are on the phone. The other party is also in the hotel.)

Morny, rune sore-bees.

Oh sorry, I thought I dialed room service.

Rye. Rune sore-bees. Morny. Jewish to odor sunteen?

Yes, order something. This is room thirteen-oh-five. I want…

Okay, torino-fie. Yes plea?

I’d like some bacon and eggs.

Ow July then?

What?

Aches. Ow July then? Pry, boy, pooch…?

Oh, the eggs! How do I like them? Sorry. Scrambled, please.

Ow July thee baycome? Crease?

Crisp will be fine.

Okay. An Santos?

What?

Santos. July Santos?

Uh…I don’t know…I don’t think so.

No? Judo one toes?

Look. I really feel bad about this, but I just don’t know what judo-one-toes means. I’m sorry…

Toes! Toes! Why Jew Don Juan toes? Ow bow eenlish mopping we bother?

English muffin! I’ve got it! You were saying toast! Fine. An English muffin will be fine.

We bother?

No. Just put the bother on the side.

Wad?

I’m sorry. I meant butter. Butter on the side.

Copy?

I feel terrible about this but…

Copy. Copy, tea, mill…

Coffee!! Yes, coffee please. And that’s all.

One Minnie. Ass rune torino-fie, strangle-aches, crease baycome, tossy eenlish mopping we bother honey sigh, and copy. Rye?

Whatever you say.

Okay. Tenjewberrymud.

You’re welcome.

This is almost like “Anguish Languish” in its delightful mangling of the tongue. If you do it in the right accent, it does sound like it could have taken place in the Phillipines or somewhere similar.

Since we’re on the subject of Shelley Berman, we might as well include for your gratuitous entertainment his little piece, “Hotel Soap,” which despite multiple forwardings via fax and email, also never happened.

Dear Maid,

Please do not leave any more of those little bars of soap in my bathroom since I have brought my own bath-sized Dial. Please remove the six unopened little bars from the shelf under the medicine chest and another three in the shower soap dish. They are in my way.

Thank you,
S. Berman

Dear Room 635,

I am not your regular maid. She will be back tomorrow, Thursday, from her day off. I took the 3 hotel soaps out of the shower soap dish as you requested. The 6 bars on your shelf I took out of your way and put on top of your Kleenex dispenser in case you should change your mind. This leaves only the 3 bars I left today which my instructions from the management is to leave 3 soaps daily.
I hope this is satisfactory.

Kathy, Relief Maid

Dear Maid — I hope you are my regular maid.

Apparently Kathy did not tell you about my note to her concerning the little bars of soap. When I got back to my room this evening I found you had added 3 little Camays to the shelf under my medicine cabinet. I am going to be here in the hotel for two weeks and have brought my own bath-size Dial so I won’t need those 6 little Camays which are on the shelf. They are in my way when shaving, brushing teeth, etc.

Please remove them.

S. Berman

Dear Mr. Berman,

My day off was last Wed. so the relief maid left 3 hotel soaps which we are instructed by the management. I took the 6 soaps which were in your way on the shelf and put them in the soap dish where your Dial was. I put the Dial in the medicine cabinet for your convenience. I didn’t remove the 3 complimentary soaps which are always placed inside the medicine cabinet for all new check-ins and which you did not object to when you checked in last Monday. Please let me know if I can of further assistance.

Your regular maid,
Dotty

Dear Mr. Berman,

The assistant manager, Mr. Kensedder, informed me this A.M. that you called him last evening and said you were unhappy with your maid service. I have assigned a new girl to your room. I hope you will accept my apologies for any past inconvenience. If you have any future complaints please contact me so I can give it my personal attention. Call extension 1108 between 8AM and 5PM. Thank you.

Elaine Carmen
Housekeeper

Dear Miss Carmen,

It is impossible to contact you by phone since I leave the hotel for business at 745 AM and don’t get back before 530 or 6PM. That’s the reason I called Mr. Kensedder last night. You were already off duty. I only asked Mr. Kensedder if he could do anything about those little bars of soap. The new maid you assigned me must have thought I was a new check-in today, since she left another 3 bars of hotel soap in my medicine cabinet along with her regular delivery of 3 bars on the bath-room shelf. In just 5 days here I have accumulated 24 little bars of soap. Why are you doing this to me?

S. Berman

Dear Mr. Berman,

Your maid, Kathy, has been instructed to stop delivering soap to your room and remove the extra soaps. If I can be of further assistance, please call extension 1108 between 8AM and 5PM. Thank you,

Elaine Carmen,
Housekeeper

Dear Mr. Kensedder,

My bath-size Dial is missing. Every bar of soap was taken from my room including my own bath-size Dial. I came in late last night and had to call the bellhop to bring me 4 little Cashmere Bouquets.

S. Berman

Dear Mr. Berman,

I have informed our housekeeper, Elaine Carmen, of your soap problem. I cannot understand why there was no soap in your room since our maids are instructed to leave 3 bars of soap each time they service a room. The situation will be rectified immediately. Please accept my apologies for the inconvenience.

Martin L. Kensedder
Assistant Manager

Dear Mrs. Carmen,

Who the hell left 54 little bars of Camay in my room? I came in last night and found 54 little bars of soap. I don’t want 54 little bars of Camay. I want my one damn bar of bath-size Dial. Do you realize I have 54 bars of soap in here. All I want is my bath size Dial. Please give me back my bath-size Dial.

S. Berman

Dear Mr. Berman,

You complained of too much soap in your room so I had them removed. Then you complained to Mr. Kensedder that all your soap was missing so I personally returned them. The 24 Camays which had been taken and the 3 Camays you are supposed to receive daily (sic). I don’t know anything about the 4 Cashmere Bouquets. Obviously your maid, Kathy, did not know I had returned your soaps so she also brought 24 Camays plus the 3 daily Camays. I don’t know where you got the idea this hotel issues bath-size Dial. I was able to locate some bath-size Ivory which I left in your room.

Elaine Carmen
Housekeeper

Dear Mrs. Carmen,

Just a short note to bring you up-to-date on my latest soap inventory. As of today I possess:

  • On shelf under medicine cabinet – 18 Camay in 4 stacks of 4 and 1 stack of 2.
  • On Kleenex dispenser – 11 Camay in 2 stacks of 4 and 1 stack of 3.
  • On bedroom dresser – 1 stack of 3 Cashmere Bouquet, 1 stack of 4 hotel-size Ivory, and 8 Camay in 2 stacks of 4.
  • Inside medicine cabinet – 14 Camay in 3 stacks of 4 and 1 stack of 2.
  • In shower soap dish – 6 Camay, very moist.
  • On northeast corner of tub – 1 Cashmere Bouquet, slightly used.
  • On northwest corner of tub – 6 Camays in 2 stacks of 3.

Please ask Kathy when she services my room to make sure the stacks are neatly piled and dusted. Also, please advise her that stacks of more than 4 have a tendency to tip. May I suggest that my bedroom window sill is not in use and will make an excellent spot for future soap deliveries. One more item, I have purchased another bar of bath-sized Dial which I am keeping in the hotel vault in order to avoid further misunderstandings.

S. Berman

Shelley Berman has spoken.