Archive for July 13th, 2008

“Oh, Bugger!”

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It helps if you read ALL of this article.

We’ve all said (or at least thought) it at times, but did you ever stop to think where the phrase originates?

Thanks to the excellent research facilities of Uncle Ryno, the truth can now be told.

Back in the days when the Compagnie Internationale des Wagons-Lits ran the Orient Express, the rich and powerful travelled the Continent in the lap of luxury. Cigars, cognac, fine dining, and the portable comforts of home, rode with the rich and adventurous.

The surroundings were sumptuous,

and the servants were servile.

There were butlers, chefs, waiters, bootblacks, and even an unfortunate whose job it was to, erm, look after, the little lapdogs favoured by ladies of the moneyed classes.

Here, Fluffy-Diddums poses on the lap of M. Hercule Poirot

The problem, you see, is that the distance from Paris to Istanbul is a bloody long one. By comparison, the digestive tract of a small dog is as naught. The word “express” in the train’s title was the clincher: something had to be done about the small mounds of what once was doggie-dinner, or the cleaners and bootblacks threatened an insurrection!

The solution, as befits a prestige service, was an elegant one, comprising a combination of elements:

Firstly, a fashion was surreptitiously introduced at Crufts, to popularise the trimming of buttocks in poodle and other toy breeds.

Secondly, a veterinary medical procedure was researched and publicised: the bougie (French for “candle”) was introduced, to physically plug the rectum of poor wee Pekes and Pomeranians, et al, while sitting with their owners at pontoon in the saloon car.

Thirdly, an important staff position was created: that of Bougiere. This man was responsible for the feeding, watering, safekeeping and un- (as well as re-) corking of up to forty small, yappy canines per trip.

One such unfortunate, Gilles Petomane, published his memoirs on retirement after eleven years in the position. The Compagnie sued, but “Bougiere, Moi!” became a household by-word.

The British, as is their wont, Anglicised the term, and any nasty, demeaning job became “a bugger of a task”, performed by “some unlucky bugger”.

If

you

can

see

this

your

settings

aren’t

standard,

because

I’ve

set

the

text

to

white-on-white,

but

don’t

tell

anybody,

as

I

often

hide

text

like

this.

Important Note:

All of the above story is a lie, a whopper, a complete fabrication. I made it up to get even with somebody who told me a tall story, a long time ago.

G’night, Both My Readers™!