Wednesday, 25 April 2007
Friday, 13 April 2007
First I was afraid, I was petrified
To try to live without celery would be suicide
Oh how I love the watery taste
And how I love it's fibrous feel
If you wanted to destroy me
It's the first thing you would steal.......
I looked in the fridge
And behind the couch
Wherever you hid that celery
I'd find it out
But then suddenly I saw
Then I suddenly realised
That if I was a celery stick
There's one place that I'd hide.....
It was under the bed
Under the bed
I find the celery at last
Before I lost my head
And now I've squirrelled it away
And now I've stored it in the fridge
That's what I said
It was under the bed
Thursday, 12 April 2007
The infamous planks, which the captives of pirates were made to walk during the "Golden Age Of Piracy", were not made from wood. They were in fact made of celery, for two reasons.
1. If the captive was too heavy, the plank would snap before the captive reached the end, providing much hilarity amongst the crew.
2. If the captive was light, and made it to the end, the natural springiness of celery again made it much more entertaining - when the captive tried a discreet and dignified jump off the end of the plank they found themselves hurtling upwards, usually bashing their heads on the underside of the crow's nest before smashing through the plank on their way to the bottom of the briny.
Wednesday, 11 April 2007
Thursday, 5 April 2007
In '76, the worm finally turned, as the merchants found that they, too, were no longer able to afford the celery which was so much a part of their daily lives, and a pamphlet, entitled "Against the Gentrification of Celery" began to be circulated. As the upper middle classes began to forcibly resist the celery tax, the poorer and more downtrodden followed suit, until the Duke of Hapsburg gave way, and removed celery tax altogether, in what was known as the Budapest Celery Amnesty.
An interesting aside to this story is that the little town of Unterdenverdegris had it's very own Lady Godiva moment as a result of this crisis. The mayor of the little town was begged by his wife to stand up to the Hapsburgs, and refuse to collect the celery tax. He laughingly told his wife that he would do so, if she would ride naked through the town on a donkey. This she did, but there the parallels with Godiva end. The mayors wife was, to put it kindly, a rather homely lady, and once the people of the town found out why she was undertaking this naked ride, they swore never to complain about celery tax again, if only she would promise never to repeat her daring ride.