{"id":563,"date":"2015-02-22T07:02:47","date_gmt":"2015-02-22T15:02:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.majorscorner.com\/?p=563"},"modified":"2026-03-07T18:12:50","modified_gmt":"2026-03-08T03:12:50","slug":"majorscorner-theescape-woebegone-humourcanadian","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/majorscorner.com\/?p=563","title":{"rendered":"#MajorsCorner  #TheEscape  #Woebegone  #HumourCanadian"},"content":{"rendered":"<div style=\"padding-bottom:20px; padding-top:10px;\" class=\"hupso-share-buttons\"><!-- Hupso Share Buttons - http:\/\/www.hupso.com\/share\/ --><a class=\"hupso_toolbar\" href=\"http:\/\/www.hupso.com\/share\/\"><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/static.hupso.com\/share\/buttons\/share-medium.png\" style=\"border:0px; padding-top:5px; float:left;\" alt=\"Share Button\"\/><\/a><script type=\"text\/javascript\">var hupso_services_t=new Array(\"Twitter\",\"Facebook\",\"Google Plus\");var hupso_background_t=\"#EAF4FF\";var hupso_border_t=\"#66CCFF\";var hupso_toolbar_size_t=\"medium\";var hupso_image_folder_url = \"\";var hupso_url_t=\"\";var hupso_title_t=\"#MajorsCorner  #TheEscape  #Woebegone  #HumourCanadian\";<\/script><script type=\"text\/javascript\" src=\"https:\/\/static.hupso.com\/share\/js\/share_toolbar.js\"><\/script><!-- Hupso Share Buttons --><\/div><p>Big news. There was a break-out last week from the Tired Fawn, or, as we like to call it, the Last Roundup. This is where families commit their loved ones when they can no longer be bothered to look after dribbling relatives.<!--more--> Apparently there was a mutiny with more than a few escapees. The reason might have been the food, for I have a bit of insider gossip in that area. An old friend, Bob Woebegone of this parish, is an inmate of said place and he used to leave whispered reports on the club answering machine concerning the food.<br \/>\n\u201cMonday is unspeakable, Tuesday is just appalling, Wednesday is something called Giblets Avec Surprise and then the week fades in a series of unfortunate porridges. Please get me out.\u201d<br \/>\nMany of you will remember Bob and the TV commercials for his family company, Bob Woebegone\u2019s Used Motors. For a time he was ubiquitous on the air with his famous slogan, \u201cI can sell fudge to Fijians.\u201d No one really knew what that phrase meant, but it had a nice ring to it and somehow it worked, as he did turn-away business for years. That is until a touring Fijian rugby team found his use of their country\u2019s name as an aid to selling old cars unpalatable. Suddenly Bob had 15 furious 300-pound men tearing apart his showroom while he hid in the women\u2019s WC with Betty from Parts.<br \/>\nBob\u2019s family had had enough and voted him out of the company, leaving him to sit around the club where, much against policy, he tried out new slogans. \u201cI can sell borsht to Bulgarians\u201d or \u201cant-eaters to Australians\u201d could be heard sailing about the dining room, which finally led to a confrontation with our president, General Baron de Boeuf and the board of governors, because supposedly no business can be discussed within our confines.<br \/>\nBob\u2019s family sent some chaps with a net and just as he started to say, \u201cSaabs to Swedes,\u201d he was hauled from the club steps, with many of us looking away, thinking \u201cThere but for fortune go I.\u201d<br \/>\nMore info is leaking out about the runaways, as most were caught within the second fence, but we heard that Bob made it past that obstacle and was seen legging it for the highway dressed in a stolen red plumber\u2019s uniform with the name \u201cMustapha\u201d prominently displayed on its breast pocket.<br \/>\nThe outraged plumber in question was found semi-naked and wrapped in duct tape. I gather the poor man is on the extreme end of hirsute and therefore faces a series of long baths in an effort to soak off the numerous tapes. There may be religious issues involved.<br \/>\nBut I hope Bob makes it.<br \/>\nUpdate: Bob has been found! He was in the large bush below the Senior Reading Room. The One-Armed Colonel heard a whispered \u201cotters to Ontarians\u201d coming from the juniper and alerted us to a man below in a red jumpsuit with a tea towel covering his head. I and another pretended to stroll out the front door for a breath of fresh air before shooting down the street to the bush in question, and there was a trembling Bob.<br \/>\n\u201cDo you have any chocolate?\u201d he squealed. Mr. Cursive, our retired teacher and a diabetic, had his necessary box of Smarties on hand that Bob tore from his grip gratefully. We helped him through the basement door, past the busy kitchen and into the club wine cellar. When we were all finally sitting comfortably on cases of Malbec and merlot, we watched Bob open and quaff a half bottle of burgundy taken from the vintage section, before getting his breath.<br \/>\n\u201cI must get away, chaps, before my family knows where I am,\u201d he blathered. \u201cPerhaps Mexico?\u201d He looked hard at me, but I was not an expert in escapees and their needs. Besides my wife has always found him a trial, as it were. So no Mexico.<br \/>\nNow it is one thing to hide a chap in a wine cellar for a day, even two, but not, I am afraid, for three days. We knew that the sommelier would be around for his official weekly count in five days, but what about the everyday corkage involved in satiating a large membership such as the club\u2019s?<br \/>\nI suggested we put Bob into the far rear of the cellar, hidden amongst cases of some bilge reserved for ceremonial and religious goings-on. He should have been safe there. I even gave him several of my self-published books, My Life Amongst Mems, Ps.1, 2 and 3, to keep him amused.<br \/>\nWould you believe it? He was bored and by the second day had found some of the dreaded screw-top wine called Oy. He began to sing, softly at first, but by the third day, frightened waiters began to report that they heard sea shanties coming from the basement.<br \/>\nFor several days previously there had been a large man loitering outside the club in a raincoat with suspicious white trousers, and he heard the music also. He was, of course, one of the \u201cassociates\u201d at the Tired Fawn, who alerted his superiors. They arrived in very short time with a large net.<br \/>\nPoor old Woebegone now sits forlornly back at the Tired Fawn in the so-called Unit, nibbling at whatever excrement they give him. Some mems, I am told, threw a bag of food over the west wall and were delighted to hear \u201c\u2026 armchairs to Americans.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Copyright Major\u2019s Corner 2015<\/p>\n<p>dalton.chris4@gmail.com<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<div style=\"padding-bottom:20px; padding-top:10px;\" class=\"hupso-share-buttons\"><!-- Hupso Share Buttons - http:\/\/www.hupso.com\/share\/ --><a class=\"hupso_toolbar\" href=\"http:\/\/www.hupso.com\/share\/\"><img src=\"https:\/\/static.hupso.com\/share\/buttons\/share-medium.png\" style=\"border:0px; padding-top:5px; float:left;\" alt=\"Share Button\"\/><\/a><script type=\"text\/javascript\">var hupso_services_t=new Array(\"Twitter\",\"Facebook\",\"Google Plus\");var hupso_background_t=\"#EAF4FF\";var hupso_border_t=\"#66CCFF\";var hupso_toolbar_size_t=\"medium\";var hupso_image_folder_url = \"\";var hupso_url_t=\"\";var hupso_title_t=\"#MajorsCorner  #TheEscape  #Woebegone  #HumourCanadian\";<\/script><script type=\"text\/javascript\" src=\"https:\/\/static.hupso.com\/share\/js\/share_toolbar.js\"><\/script><!-- Hupso Share Buttons --><\/div><p>Big news. There was a break-out last week from the Tired Fawn, or, as we like to call it, the Last Roundup. This is where families commit their loved ones when they can no longer be bothered to look after dribbling relatives.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-563","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-majors-corner"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/majorscorner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/563","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/majorscorner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/majorscorner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/majorscorner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/majorscorner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=563"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/majorscorner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/563\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":565,"href":"https:\/\/majorscorner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/563\/revisions\/565"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/majorscorner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=563"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/majorscorner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=563"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/majorscorner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=563"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}