A friend noticed me stretching to see around a post and asked me, "Why are Ukranian your neck?" I told him I was watching the MIG welder in the aircraft factory. The welder was held up for a pattern, and called out, "You got the prints, Igor?" to someone in the drafting department. "Nyet, came the reply." I'm waiting for that Irishman to make the hole to hold down the new copier. The welder asked the Irishman, "When are you going to bore, O'Dean?" Then he added, "For best strength, don't bore too close to the rimsky." "Now, quit scriabin all those notes and get to work!" "Oh, no, the Irishman said, I've had too much vodka, and I'm feeling Ilya."