Monthly Archives: April 2015
Back in the UK gradually recovering from the jet lag following another highly successful visit to the States. The confused and befuddled state (not to mention the general incompetence) which accompanies such trans-Atlantic excursions is slowly receding (or, at least, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it). Continue reading
Pretty sure we’ve had it before . . .
Maurice an 82 year-old man went to the doctor for his annual physical.
A few days later the doctor saw Maurice walking down the street with a gorgeous young lady on his arm.
A couple of days later the doctor spoke to Maurice and said, “You’re really doing great, aren’t you?”
Maurice replied, “Just doing what you said, Doc: ‘Get a hot mamma and be cheerful.’”
The doctor said, “I did not say that. I said, ‘You’ve got a heart murmur. Be careful.’” Continue reading
A short and sweet (?) post this morning. As mentioned last time, Ms Playchute and I are in the States and this morning find ourselves in the glorious splendour of Lake George visiting with brother Sandy and his wife Pam. We’ve spent a few days in Hanover visiting with my folks and will be returning there tomorrow morning for a few more days – just long enough to out stay our welcome, I guess. We fly back home from Boston on Wednesday evening. Continue reading
Thanks to our friend Julie for pointing out that I had used two of the three “amusements” I originally posted this week fairly recently, i.e., last week! She very tactfully asked if this was due to early onset Alzheimers and whether it was she or me who was suffering. Thankfully, I was able to reassure her that it was certainly me and that her faculties are clearly functioning properly.
So, here is the one I didn’t use last week and a couple of other handy replacements.
This is timely for our American readers:
The latest reports from the Internal Revenue service shows that it has streamlined its tax form this year.
It goes like this:
- How much did you make last year?
- How much do you have left?
- Send B.
It’s been a very good week with some impressively pleasant Spring days – sunny once the early morning fog/mist has lifted with moderately pleasant temperatures – highs in the mid 60s (15 to 18 C) or thereabouts. It looks like we’re finally out of the winter woods. Continue reading
Although I think we’ve had this before, it is timely as we are currently embroiled in our General Election campaign where the predominant feature seems to be one where there is no truth or substance to anything the politicians say.
While walking down the street one day a US senator is tragically hit by a truck and dies. His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.
“Welcome to heaven,” says St. Peter. “Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we’re not sure what to do with you.”
“No problem, just let me in,” says the man.
“Well, I’d like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we’ll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.”
“Really, I’ve made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,” says the senator.
“I’m sorry, but we have our rules.” And with that, St.Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell.
The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is very happy and in evening dress.
They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne.
Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly & nice guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that before he realizes it, it is time to go. Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator raises.
The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens on heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him. “Now it’s time to visit heaven.”
So, 24 hours pass with the senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing.
They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns. “Well, then, you’ve spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.”
The senator reflects for a minute, then he answers: “Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.”
So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. Now the doors of the elevator open and he’s in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in bags as more trash falls from above.
The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. “I don’t understand,” stammers the senator. “Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there’s just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?”
The devil looks at him, smiles and says, “Yesterday we were campaigning….Today you voted.” Continue reading
Good morning. Very pleased to report that Penelope has largely recovered from her “low-level” flu-like symptoms of last week. I am less pleased to report, however, that I have been dealing with the fallout as I spent some of the week feeling somewhat less than excellent. Still, I reckon I escaped with considerably less discomfort and inconvenience than she. Continue reading
This came from Dad.
Miss Beatrice, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was admired for her sweetness and kindness to all. One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room.
She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea. As he sat facing her old Hammond organ, the young minister noticed a cut glass bowl sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water, and in the water floated, of all things, a condom!
When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist.
“Miss Beatrice”, he said, “I wonder if you would tell me about this?” pointing to the bowl.
“Oh, yes,” she replied, “Isn’t it wonderful? I was walking through the park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease.
“Do you know I haven’t had the flu all winter?” Continue reading