Welcome to Autumn! It just doesn’t seem possible that we’ve passed through the Autumnal Equinox already – I distinctly remember it was just the other day we were looking forward to those long, lazy days of summer and the late light in the evenings. I guess it’s a pity that summer never really arrived in the UK this year. It’s definitely downhill from here.
This from my friend Julie in Australia.
A duck walks into a pub and orders a pint of beer and a ham sandwich.
The barman looks at him and says, “Hang on! You’re a duck.”
“I see your eyes are working,” replies the duck.
“And you can talk!” exclaims the barman.
“I see your ears are working, too,” says the duck. “Now if you don’t mind, may I have my beer and my sandwich please?”
“Certainly, sorry about that”, says the barman as he pulls the duck’s pint. “It’s just we don’t get many ducks in this pub. What are you doing round this way?”
“I’m working on the building site across the road,” explains the duck. “I’m a plasterer.”
The flabbergasted barman cannot believe the duck and wants to learn more, but takes the hint when the duck pulls out a newspaper from his bag and proceeds to read it.
So, the duck reads his paper, drinks his beer, eats his sandwich, bids the barman good day and leaves.
The same thing happens for two weeks.
Then one day the circus comes to town.
The ringmaster comes into the pub for a pint and the barman says to him, “You’re with the circus, aren’t you? Well, I know this duck that could be just brilliant in your circus. He talks, drinks beer, eats sandwiches, reads the newspaper and everything!”
“Sounds marvellous,” says the ringmaster, handing over his business card. “Get him to give me a call.”
So the next day when the duck comes into the pub the barman says, “Hey Mr. Duck, I reckon I can line you up with a top job, paying really good money.”
“I’m always looking for the next job,” says the duck. “Where is it?”
“At the circus,” says the barman.
“The circus?” repeats the duck.
“That’s right,” replies the barman.
“The circus?” the duck asks again, “with the big tent?”
“Yeah,” the barman replies.
“With all the animals who live in cages and performers who live in caravans?” says the duck.
“Of course,” the barman replies.
“And the tent has canvas sides and a big canvas roof with a hole in the middle?” persists the duck.
“That’s right!” says the barman.
The duck shakes his head in amazement, and says, “What the f**k would they want with a plasterer??!” Continue reading “27 September 2015 – Amusements”
Good morning on what I hope is another splendid morning wherever you are. For me, it seems like another week has gone racing by and I feel as if I’m scrambling through treacle trying to keep up! Apart from a few simple, trivial tasks, I don’t feel as if I’m making much progress in the ever-expanding list of those things which need doing. Pen, on the other hand, is racing ahead and the fabric for her new Roman blinds in the lounge arrived a few days ago – she’ll be on to those soon while I am still trying to remember where I put the screwdriver. Continue reading “20 September 2015”
I am writing to say what an excellent product you have! I’ve used it all of my married life, as my Mom always told me it was the best.
Now that I am in my fifties I find it even better! In fact, about a month ago, I spilled some red wine on my new white blouse. My inconsiderate and uncaring husband started to belittle me about how clumsy I was, and generally started becoming a pain in the neck.
Well, one thing led to another and somehow I ended up with his blood on my new white blouse! I grabbed my bottle of Tide with bleach alternative, and to my surprise and satisfaction, all of the stains came out! In fact, the stains came out so well the detectives who came by yesterday told me that the DNA tests on my blouse were negative.
Then my attorney called and said that I was no longer considered a suspect in the disappearance of my husband.
What a relief! Going through menopause is bad enough without being a murder suspect! I thank you, once again, for having a great product.
Well, gotta go — I have to write to the Hefty Bag people.
Good morning to you all and welcome to the inaugural edition of the Moreton Pinkney Picayune! We received hundreds/dozens/loads/a few/one or two suggestions for what we should call this weekly pox on your inbox now that we have moved from Byfield to Moreton Pinkney. Most of the suggestions we received were too rude for a family publication but my father suggested we call it the Moreton Pinkney Picayune and the name fits exceedingly well. Continue reading “13 September 2015”
An old lady walked into a newspaper office.
She approached an employee and said that her husband had died and that she would like to have an obituary appear in the paper.
The employee gave her a form and told her to write the obituary on it. She wrote, “Earl W. Worth died Saturday, December 2nd at his home. Services are at The Baptist Church at 3 P.M.”
The employee looked at the form and said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but obituaries are limited to 7 words apiece.
The woman took another form and wrote, “Earl died. ’57 Chevy truck for sale.”