Đố vui Post cho Apomethe trong thời gian nghỉ phép: The names of famous composers are embedded (some more deeply than others) in the following rather unlikely story. Try to find them all - good luck! Beethoven was in Britain, and decided to go out to the shops. His first stop was an estate agent''''s. Entering, he asked, in his bad English: "Please - do you stock hausen?" The agent looked at him, impressed that the great man was in his shop, and turned to his female assistant. "Do we have a palace, Trina". "No no", Beethoven insisted quickly. "I need a cage for my bird. I don''''t want it to be eaten by a wolf". Less impressed, the estate agent sent him next door, to the pet-shop. Beethoven explained to the manager there (Jan - a Czech) what he wanted. "Ah yes - I think we have just the thing", said Jan. He looked around to where a young man was lounging behind the counter. "Martin - you!" he snarled at the unfortunate lounger. "Go and fetch a large cage, with a big handle". While Martin did just what he was told, Beethoven looked around and noticed a little dog in the corner. "I like him", he told Jan, "but does he often bark?". "No, he''''s the sort of dog that doesn''''t bark a lot", replied Jan. "Good", said Beethoven; "then maybe I buy him. I haf a cat - and I could''''t have a dog upsetting de *****. It''''s bad enough that I coup her in my small flat all day". Beethoven left the shop with the cage, and the dog trotting at his heels; he consulted his list and went into a cobbler''''s. "Are you the shoe-man?" He asked the man at the counter. Without replying, the man called into the back of the shop, "someone about his shoe, Bert!" Bert came huurying out. "How can I help you, sir?" he asked. "It''''s my laces - they''''re all ravelled" said Beethoven sadly "what a mess I in!" Bert tactfully ignored his client''''s bad English, and looked at the laces. "You''''re going to have to use the most art you have", said Beethoven. "Hmm..." mused Bert, "I think I''''ll have to ask my assistant. Where''''s he hid''''n? Honestly," he confided in Beethoven, "it''''s impossible to get good service these days. "E''''s probably out shoppin'''' for his scarlet tea or something weird like that. I told him never to do that; you can tell a man something till you''''re blue in the face - it won''''t help you". Beethoven sympathised. "Ver de blazes is the man?" he asked. "These people - zey have no sense of duty-ugh!" Finally, the assistant came running in. "Sorry", he gasped. "You''''re a block-head, that''''s what you are" thundered Bert. He turned back to Beethoven. "I''''m not really a cobbler, anyway; I''''d rather be a lumberjack - or a purse-seller, but there''''s no money in it" he moaned. "To be frank, my boys have stolen all my money - that they borrowed in trust; my saint sons, I call them. Humph" All this gloom was getting too much for Beethoven. He stomped off, intending to go to the barber''''s; but finding himself outside a clothes-shop, he looked around furtively and then went in. He went up to the unattended counter. "Er-please?" he asked in a high, embarassed voice. "I need some ladies'''' underwear". A voice came from the back: "what size bra, Ms...". The owner of the voice came out into the shop, and stopped dead. "Mr Beethoven!" he exclaimed. "What an honour to have you here - I adore your music!" Beethoven looked panic-struck. "Thank you, thank you", he gabbled hurriedly. "And of course I was just joking about the ladies'''' underwear - bar-talk, you know, hahaha. Vat I really want is something from that rack, Man Enough clothes; oh, and some really stiff gloves - Hinder-Mitts. For strong men only". "Nahturallee, sir" replied the assistant in his posh voice, trying to impress. "And cod I help sir with anything else? Perhaps sir is getting marrayed, and thus was interested in the ladies''''..." "No, thank you" said Beethoven hurriedly. "May be you could send ze items to me?" "Most certainly, sir - what is the address?" "4A Brook Street. You know, by the brook near here. And mind that your man doesn''''t tip it over the bridge before he gets it to me, hahaha". And with that, Beethoven was gone... Được TLV sửa chữa / chuyển vào 01:16 ngày 21/02/2005
Chả biết đã đủ hay chưa, hay vật. Beethoven [Beethoven] was in Britain [Britten], and decided to go out to the shops. His first stop was an estate agent''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s. Entering, he asked, in his bad English: "Please - do you stock hausen?" [Stockhausen] The agent looked at him, impressed that the great man was in his shop, and turned to his female assistant. "Do we have a palace, Trina". [Palestrina] "No no", [Nono] Beethoven insisted quickly. "I need a cage [Cage] for my bird. I don''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''t want it to be eaten by a wolf". [Wolf] Less impressed, the estate agent sent him next door, to the pet-shop. Beethoven explained to the manager there (Jan - a Czech) [Janacek] what he wanted. "Ah yes - I think we have just the thing", said Jan. He looked around to where a young man was lounging behind the counter. "Martin - you!" [Martinu] he snarled at the unfortunate lounger. "Go and fetch a large cage, with a big handle". [Handel]While Martin did just what he was told, Beethoven looked around and noticed a little dog in the corner. "I like him", he told Jan, "but does he often bark?". [Offenbach] "No, he''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s the sort of dog that doesn''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''t bark [Bach] a lot", replied Jan. "Good", said Beethoven; "then maybe I buy him. I haf a cat - and I could''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''t have a dog upsetting de *****.[Debussy] It''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s bad enough that I coup her in [Couperin] my small flat all day". Beethoven left the shop with the cage, and the dog trotting at his heels; he consulted his list and went into a cobbler''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s.[Copland] "Are you the shoe-man?" [Schumann] He asked the man at the counter. Without replying, the man called into the back of the shop, "someone about his shoe, Bert!" [Schubert/Schoenberg]. Bert [Berg] came huurying out. "How can I help you, sir?" he asked. "It''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s my laces - they''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''re all ravelled" [Ravel] said Beethoven sadly "what a mess I in!" [Messiaen] Bert tactfully ignored his client''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s bad English, and looked at the laces. "You''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''re going to have to use the most art you have", said Beethoven. "Hmm..." mused Bert, "I think I''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''ll have to ask my assistant. Where''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s he hid''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''n? [Haydn] Honestly," he confided in Beethoven, "it''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s impossible to get good service these days. "E''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s probably out shoppin'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''' [Chopin] for his scarlet tea [Scalartti] or something weird [Weird] like that. I told him never to do that; you can tell a man something till you''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''re blue in the face - it won''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''t help you". Beethoven sympathised. "Ver de [Verdi] blazes is the man?" he asked. "These people - zey have no sense of duty-ugh!" Finally, the assistant came running in. "Sorry", he gasped. "You''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''re a block-head, that''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s what you are" thundered Bert. He turned back to Beethoven. "I''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''m not really a cobbler, anyway; I''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''d rather be a lumberjack - or a purse-seller, [Purcell] but there''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s no money in it" he moaned. "To be frank, [Frank] my boys have stolen all my money - that they borrowed in trust; my saint sons, [Saint-Saen]I call them. Humph" All this gloom was getting too much for Beethoven. He stomped off, intending to go to the barber''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s [Barber]; but finding himself outside a clothes-shop, he looked around furtively and then went in. He went up to the unattended counter. "Er-please?" he asked in a high, embarassed voice. "I need some ladies'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''' underwear". A voice came from the back: "what size bra, Ms..." [Brahms]. The owner of the voice came out into the shop, and stopped dead. "Mr Beethoven!" he exclaimed. "What an honour to have you here - I adore your music!" Beethoven looked panic-struck. "Thank you, thank you", he gabbled hurriedly. "And of course I was just joking about the ladies'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''' underwear - bar-talk, [Bartok] you know, hahaha. Vat I really want is something from that rack, Man Enough [Rachmaninov] clothes; oh, and some really stiff gloves - Hinder-Mitts. [Hildemith] For strong men only". "Nahturallee, sir" replied the assistant in his posh voice, trying to impress. "And cod I help sir with anything else? Perhaps sir is getting marrayed, and thus was interested in the ladies''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''..." "No, thank you" said Beethoven hurriedly. "May be you could send ze items to me?" "Most certainly, sir - what is the address?" "4A Brook [Bruch]Street. You know, by the brook near [Bruckner]here. And mind that your man doesn''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''t tip it over the bridge before he gets it to me, hahaha". And with that, Beethoven was gone... Được TuMinhTran sửa chữa / chuyển vào 21:16 ngày 22/02/2005 Được TuMinhTran sửa chữa / chuyển vào 21:23 ngày 22/02/2005
Ku Tú giỏi ghê chưa , ghen tị quá hic hic ! Giá mà mình cũng chịu khó nghe nhiều được . Nhưng mà font chữ của Tú bị sao vậy ? viết tắt kiểu đấy thì thà đừng viết tắt nữa còn hơn Eg: agent''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''s
Beethoven (Ludwig van Beethoven, 1770-1827) was in Britain (1: Benjamin Britten, 1913-1976), and decided to go out to the shops. His first stop was an estate agent''''s. Entering, he asked, in his bad English: "Please - do you stock hausen?" (2: Karlheinz Stockhausen, 1928-) The agent looked at him, impressed that the great man was in his shop, and turned to his female assistant. "Do we have a palace, Trina?" (3: Giovanni Palestrina, 1525-1594)"No no" (4: Luigi Nono 1924-1990), Beethoven insisted quickly. "I need a cage (5: John Cage, 1912-1992) for my bird (6: William Byrd, 1543-1623). I don''''t want it to be eaten by a wolf" (7: Hugo Wolf, 1860-1903). Less impressed, the estate agent sent him next door, to the pet-shop. Beethoven explained to the manager there (Jan - a Czech) (8: LeoĂ JanĂček,1854-1903) what he wanted. "Ah yes - I think we have just the thing", said Jan. He looked around to where a young man was lounging behind the counter. "Martin - you!" (9: Bohuslav Martinu, 1890-1959) he snarled at the unfortunate lounger. "Go and fetch a large cage, with a big handle" (10: George Frideric Handel, 1685-1759). While Martin (11: Frank Martin, 1890-1974) did just what he was told, Beethoven looked around and noticed a little dog in the corner. "I like him", he told Jan, "but does he often bark?" (12: Jacques Offenbach, 1819-1880). "No, he''''s the sort of dog that doesn''''t bark (13: Johann Sebastian Bach, 1685-1750 or various other Bachs) a lot", replied Jan. "Good", said Beethoven; "then maybe I buy him. I haf a cat - and I could''''t have a dog upsetting de ***** (14: Claude Debussy, 1862-1918). It''''s bad enough that I coup her in (15: Francois Couperin, 1668-1733 or various other Couperins) my small flat all day". Beethoven left the shop with the cage, and the dog trotting at his heels; he consulted his list (16: Franz Liszt, 1811-1886) and went into a cobbler''''s. "Are you the shoe-man?" (17: Robert Schumann, 1810-1856) He asked the man at the counter. Without replying, the man called into the back of the shop, "someone about his shoe, Bert!" (18: Franz Schubert, 1797-1828) Bert came huurying out. "How can I help you, sir?" he asked. "It''''s my laces - they''''re all ravelled" (19: Maurice Rave, 1875-1937) said Beethoven sadly "what a mess I in!" (20: Olivier Messiaen, 1908-1992) Bert tactfully ignored his client''''s bad English, and looked at the laces. "You''''re going to have to use the most art (21: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1756-1791) you have", said Beethoven. "Hmm..." mused Bert, "I think I''''ll have to ask my assistant. Where''''s he hid''''n? (22: Franz Josef Haydn, 1732-1809) Honestly," he confided in Beethoven, "it''''s impossible to get good service these days. "E''''s probably out shoppin'''' (23: Frederic Chopin, 1810-1849) for his scarlet tea (24: Domenico Scarlatti, 1685-1757; or Alessandro, 1660-1725)or something weird like that. I told him never to do that; you can tell a man (25: Georg Philipp Telemann, 1681-1767) something till you''''re blue in the face - it won''''t help you". Beethoven sympathised. "Ver de (26: Giuseppe Verdi, 1813-1901) blazes is the man?" he asked. "These people - zey have no sense of duty-ugh!" (27: Henri Dutilleux, 1916-) Just then, the assistant came running in. "Sorry", he gasped. "You''''re a block (28: Ernest Bloch, 1880-1959)-head, that''''s what you are" thundered Bert. He turned back to Beethoven. "I''''m not really a cobbler, anyway; I''''d rather be a lumberjack - or a purse-seller (29: Henry Purcell, 1959-1695), but there''''s no money in it" he moaned. "To be frank (30: Câsar Franck, 1822-1890), my boys have stolen all my money - that they borrowed in (31: Alexander Borodin, 1833-1887) trust; my saint sons (32: Camille Saint-Saôns, 1835-1921), I call them. Humph" All this gloom was getting too much for Beethoven. He stomped off, intending to go to the barber''''s (33: Samuel Barber, 1910-1981); but finding himself outside a clothes-shop, he looked around furtively and then went in. He went up to the unattended counter. "Er-please?" he asked in a high, embarassed voice. "I need some ladies'''' underwear". A voice came from the back: "what size bra, Ms...". (34: Johannes Brahms, 1833-1897) The owner of the voice came out into the shop, and stopped dead. "Mr Beethoven!" he exclaimed. "What an honour to have you here - I adore your music!" Beethoven looked panic-struck. "Thank you, thank you", he gabbled hurriedly. "And of course I was just joking about the ladies'''' underwear - bar-talk, (35: Bela Bartók, 1811-1945) you know, hahaha. Vat I really want is something from that rack, Man Enough (36: Sergei Rachmaninov, 1873-1943) clothes; oh, and some really stiff gloves - Hinder-Mitts (37: Paul Hindemith, 1895-1963). For strong men only". "Nahturallee, sir" replied the assistant in his posh voice, trying to impress. "And cod I (38: Zoltan KodĂly, 1882-1967) help sir with anything else? Perhaps sir is getting marrayed (39: Marin Marais, 1656-1728), and thus was interested in the ladies''''..." "No, thank you" said Beethoven hurriedly. "May be you could send ze items to me?" "Most certainly, sir - what is the address?" "4A (40: Gabriel Faurâ, 1845-1924) Brook (41: Max Bruch, 1838-1920) Street. You know, by the brook near (42: Anton Bruckner, 1824-1896) here. And mind that your man doesn''''t tip it (43: Michael Tippett, 1905-1998) over the bridge (44: Frank Bridge, 1879-1941) before he gets it to me, hahaha". And with that, Beethoven was gone... Được Apomethe sửa chữa / chuyển vào 21:47 ngày 10/03/2005
