Sunday, May 15, 2005

...some women don't eat mangoes...

My mother and I were discussing the garden earlier this evening and she was distressed that her French Marigolds have failed to "grow like fuck" in the expected manner. I suggested that this might be a result of the poor quality of the local soil, to which she replied "well... I'll have to put down some compost or manure next year." If only, I remarked, she had told me a couple of hours ago I might have been in a position to oblige.

"Well..." retorted she, "do you know about mangoes?"

"??" [raises eyebrows expectantly]

"My friend Shiela (from family history) used to live in wherever. Hong Kong or India or something. Her husband was high up in whatever. British council or foreign office. They were out there for years. And she wouldn't eat mangoes."

"??" [r.e.ex.]

"They grew them in human escrement. Excrement. Or whatever. Excrement. And she wouldn't eat them because she knew about it. Apparently it was very highly prized."

"Yes... you can imagine them at the marketplace, bartering over the comparative quality of their turds..."

"Well... As I say. They treated it... it was very valuable. They used to put them on pieces of paper..."


Pissed mummy 1, Beast nil.