The Inseminator Goes Off Half-Cocked
Now, I don't find it easy to admit to going off prematurely, but it appears I might have done so...
Thank you everyone who has looked into it more than I did and told me what the score is. It appears I was a bit hasty in blaming The Powers That Be.
It seems that there has been a long history of wishful-thinking women, high on powerful hormones, that turn up to register births citing Des Lynam, Jeffery Archer or Wee Jimmy Krankie as the father. To prevent this, a marriage certificate or a personal appearance is required. I suppose (and it pains me greatly to say this) that that is fair enough. Apparently if I fill in a yellow form and turn up in person with my mother and a note from either a priest or licensed publican*, I can, in fact, have my name added to the birth certificate. So I will be eating this (delicious looking) slice of humble pie:
mmmmm....pie.....Thanks again for the heart-warming show of support.
*I made this bit up.
4 answers on a postcard...:
Don't worry, I shall always fondly think of you as The Inseminator (1)
Ade
(1) Er, hang on, that didn't come out (2) quite right
(2) Actually, neither did that; perhaps I should pull out (3) while I'm still ahead
(3) Come to think of it (4) neither did that
(4) I've done it again (5) haven't I
(5) Oh bugger (6) it
(6) Should I stop (7) now
(7) Is that it? (8)
(8) Aaaaaaaaaargh.
Dude, get thee to the registrar. I think the publican is fully apropos - he can pour the first round on the spot.
Oh my God I've just clicked your link and seen Jimmie Krankie in a bikini. I may never be the same again.
Also what was the "panto accident" from which we thought she would never recover....??
I am now intrigued by the Krankies. You are a very wrong man.
Even just the title of the post makes me giggle. Fantastic - and yay for publicans.
Post a Comment