Have a laugh!

There was a loud banging and hammering on my door at about three this morning. It was my next door neighbour. I thought who on earth bangs and hammers on your door at this hour! It's lucky for him I was still up and having a practice on my new drum kit.

I guess, with all this stay-at-home lifestyle, a lot of you will be having the same sort of problems as I am, finding things to do! I've gone through the garage and the shed, and all the rooms in the house, rationalising things, throwing things out etc etc. My efforts haven't always been well-received! This is a cautionary tale, with - thankfully - a happy ending........ The Clean Up There's only so many things you can do To fix things up 'round the house. And you have to be careful with what you do, So as not to upset your spouse! I'd already fell foul in my garage clear out, When I threw out her dressmaking tools! Such a venting of anger I can quite do without! Once bitten, twice shy, is the rule! Is a garage the right place for stuff such as this? There were box-loads of fabrics as well! But all my complaints were abruptly dismissed, And she told me to go straight to Hell! I thought I was safe tidying up in the shed, Getting rid of some crappy old tools. Making sure that the good ones were stored overhead. Then I came across this tin of jewels. "What's this doing here?" I wondered out loud, "Should it be taking space in my shed?" It's MY shed! Such storage should not be allowed, I must bring the issue to a head! So I tackled my wife - "What's this doing here?" "It's my mother's old jewels!" she replied. "Well it's taking up space and should now disappear!" "I have no room to work here" I cried! "So where else can I put them?" she angrily asked. I suppressed the most obvious reply! "Why not sell them - they're nothing but junk from the past!" "You don't want them - just wave them goodbye". "And what will you do, then, with all your damned stuff That you've kept from your miss-spent youth? It clogs up the cupboards and just gathers fluff, You're much worse than me - that's the truth!" So a truce has been called, and the gist of it is To store all our personal treasures, Some cupboards are hers, and some cupboards are his, With appropriate security measures!

A man on a parachute jump struggles to open his chute, passes a man going the other way and shouts, "Excuse me, do you know anything about parachutes?" "No, but what do you know about gas boilers?"

A true story. Back in the 80s, my pal Greg (who I have mentioned before) was working for British Telecom, based at Whitacre Road Estate, Nuneaton. Those days their vans were bright yellow with a canary painted on the sides. Called BUSBY One morning, Greg picks up his day's job cards and wanting to get them over with because the rest of the day is his own, jumps in his bright yellow van with the ladders on the roof and goes flat out to the gate to the yard, goes down the estate road to the t junction and waits. Looking for the next gap in the traffic, he floors it and pulls out into the stream of traffic. Right behind the hearse on its way to the cemetery. Oops!!

Another true story. My mum was born in Stoke upon Trent, I used to get shipped off to my grandparents for school holidays. After my grandad passed away, it was decided that my grandma was unable to take care of herself properly, so we brought her to Coventry to live with my mum (my dad had already passed away) as she was on her own. Eventually gran died and her funeral was held at Canley Crem. We talked about what we should do and it was decided that we should take her ashes to be scattered with my grandad at Carmountside Cemetery in Stoke. Setting off one Friday with gran on the passenger seat, I got as far as Lichfield. Going around the big island a police Land Rover pulled out from the next junction behind me. Blues and 2's came on and he pulled me over. Asking me if I knew why he had stopped me, I replied, "Yes, for not wearing a seat belt", to which he replied, "Correct". Asking where I was going, I duly told him about my gran's ashes and that made him mellow a bit. He was really pleasant in explaining why I should have been wearing one. I then started to smile and he asked what I was smiling about. I said, "Come and look". Getting out of his car, we went to my passenger window and there was gran's ashes with the seat belt around her urn. It made him laugh, but he explained he had already started my ticket. Gran cost me £35 and 3 points that day (late 80's).

An English doctor is being shown around a Scottish hospital. At the end of his visit, he is shown into a ward with a number of patients who show no obvious signs of injury. He goes to examine the first man he sees, and the man proclaims: Fair fa' yer honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain e' the puddin' race! Aboon them a' ye tak your place, painch tripe or thairm: Weel are ye wordy o' a grace as lang's my arm. The English doctor, somewhat taken aback, goes to the next patient, and immediately the patient launches into: Some hae meat, and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it, But we hae meat and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thankit. This continues with the next patient: Wee sleekit cow'rin tim'rous beastie, O what a panic's in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, wi' bickering brattle. I wad be laith to run and chase thee, wi' murdering prattle!" "Well," the English doctor mutters to his Scottish colleague, "I see you saved the psychiatric ward for the last." "Nay, nay," the Scottish doctor corrected him, "This is the Serious Burns unit." Happy Burns Night, especially to all my Scottish Friends

With this covid thing, holidays are a no-no for the foreseeable future. Earlier today, I was having a tidy up and spoke to my suitcases. I told them all they wouldn't be needed for at least a year. So now I have lots of emotional baggage.

My wife, on starting cutting my hair, said "I will leave the ears in situ." Later in the proceedings, she followed with "Where has that blood come from?"

Especially for our clocks fan, Dreamtime:. enjoy this!

Magical MR, thank you,

For those with a sense of humour...

Hi all, I'm always feeling better once we get to Thursday, because according to the Prophet Bickerdyke, the world ends on Wednesday, just after 4 in the afternoon. According to the soap, he died before learning which Wednesday. I used to think this was so amusing, but I don't now. Particularly with so much misery & bloodshed across the world.

Wednesday you say? After 4pm? Well at least my bins will have been collected.

Horo is tho nows.. Two Ronnios