Noony Juice

My husband is a typical man when it comes to visiting the doctor. His rule of thumb is stay  at home unless it turns black.

At a recent physiotherapy apppointment he told the young , blonde and  comely woman who was helping him to open his legs as wide as possible (he has hip issues) that he was allergic to plaster. Then he let her slap a big plaster onto the back of his leg. Maybe he thought his allergies wouldn’t kick in if the person putting the plaster on his leg looks like Cameron Diaz ?

They did of course, 15 minutes, later when his leg felt like it was on fire and he had to do an emergency stop, rip off the plaster and roll up his trouser leg for some night air to cool it down before he could continue the drive home. A woman walking her dog who passed by asked him if he was a freemason.

Over a period of a week or so the patch on his leg got ugly, oozed and scabbed over and was noticed by our window cleaner who probably shouldn’t have been looking that closely at my husband’s leg. The window cleaner claimed  he had a ‘special’ medicine that cured cancer, depression, shingles and bad legs. He came down his ladder rummaged in his bag and gave my husband a dvd about this elixir of life. It’s called Noony Juice.

I am NOT making this up. It comes from the berry of a rare bush that grows only in the south east corner of a remote tropical island. The inhabitants of this island are multi orgasmic, have shiny hair and straight teeth because they drink Noony Juice morning, noony and night.

So, here’s a man with a bad hip and a sore leg of his own and Cameron Diaz’s making, who wants to buy a litre of Noony Juice from the window cleaner. It costs £29.95, but you have to buy a case  of 12 litres at a time and if you want it you have to meet a man at Tottenham Court Road tube station who will take your money before he hands over your juice.

I married an intelligent man, a sweet man who is kindness personified – but sadly he has no crapometer fitted. He actually wanted to buy the Noony Juice. I had to intervene and stop him parting with £300, but I boxed clever. I told him that before acting on medical advice from the window cleaner it would be wise to wait a few days and get a second opinion from the dustbinmen.

He agreed to that, but not to go to the doctor when I suggested he made an appointment for his leg.

6 comments to Noony Juice

  • Debbie

    I couldn’t resist it – I googled “noony juice”… (and your article pops up)

    It does exist and can be bought online. No strange meeting are Tottenham Court tube station…. 🙂

  • Debbie

    Meant to say “no strange meetings at Tottenham Court Road tube station required…”

  • Anna May

    I hope he wanted to meet my husband there to exchange noony juice for money and not for any other reason !

  • Jan

    You do know what Noony means in Yiddish don’t you? You don’t? It’s a ladies front bottom, her flowering garden, her…well you get the picture. I’m sure that Noony juice would mean something quite different in those terms.

  • admin

    FLOWERING GARDEN ?????? Noony Juice is now officially banned from his garage, thank you for the yiddish tip off, Jan x

  • Paula W

    Soory to dispute your tory, BUT Nooni jucice comes from many island.
    All through the South Pacific, Hawaii, and other places as well.
    I live in New Zeland, and buy Fijian Nooni jucie for a mere $NZ28.00.
    You do not have to buy a whole case.
    I was given a bottle while waiting for news if I had Myeloma. After 2 weeks I had no stiffness in my body from whatever it is when you turn 55 and have been stiff and have to gingerly ease yourself off the couch…then there was the HUGE amount of energy.
    Nooni is all it says it is. Not bad for 20.00 per month. The price of a good bottle of wine.