Wee Billy from Glesga tried his utmost to look cool. His friend told him that he needed a pair of good designer trainers to go with his shell suit. Billy saved up all his Giros and all the money he got back from returning his empty Irn Bru bottles and finally managed to get himself a pair of brilliant white trainers to go with his shell suit. Strutting down the street, Billy called out to all the passers by "Check oot ma new trainers pal? Stonkin, eh?" One fine upstanding gentleman pointed out that while they were indeed a fine pair of trainers, was young Billy aware that "Ye've no' done up the laces on wan o' them, ya daft bastirt!" Billy scornfully retorted that it was part of being cool to have a trailing lace on one trainer, and that on the sole of the trainer there were instructions for the wearer to do so. When asked for proof of this instruction, Billy took off his trainer and held it upside down for the disbeliever to read."There y'are! Clear as day it says...... Taiwan !!!!!"
A professor stood before his Philosophy 101 class and some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full? They agreed that it was. So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He then asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous - - yes. The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and proceeded to pour the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed. "Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things - - your family, your partner, your health, your children, your friends, your favorite passions - - things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full." "The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else - - the small stuff." "If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for your life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out dancing. Play another 18. There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the disposal." "Take care of the golf balls first - - the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand." One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of beers!
I love it when at the end of a match, tennis players throw the ball into the crowd and football players throw their shirt in the crowd. Anyway, I'm off the pub's dart team.
And the crowd are on their feet, so much for getting the stadium finished on time. "These bacon sandwiches are delicious" said Pooh "Aren't they Piglet. Piglet?, Piglet?"
When we was at the ODI at The Oval against the Aussies the other week, my son had a bit of banter with Shane Watson when he was fielding on the boundary..at last Watson had to run to stop a boundary and my son had his chance... "Hey Shane, if your great-grandfather could have run as fast as that, you would be wearing Blue today instead of Yellow"...to his credit Watson put his hand up and cracked up..
An Irish daughter had not been home for several years. Upon her return, her father cussed her "Where have ye been all this time? Why did ye not write to us ? not even a line. Why didn't ye call? Can ye not understand what ye put yer old Mother thru?". The girl, crying, replied, Sniff, sniff...."Dad. … I became a prostitute..." "Ye what!!? Out of here, ye shameless harlot! Sinner! You're a disgrace to this Catholic family, so yer are." "OK, Daddy-- as ye wish. I just came back to give Mammy this luxurious fur coat and title deed to a ten room mansion … For me little brother Seamus this gold Rolex. And for ye Daddy the sparkling new Mercedes limited edition convertible that's parked outside plus a membership to the Limerick Country Club......... .................. (takes a breath)..... ........ and an invitation for ye all to spend New Years Eve on board my yacht in the Caribbean and... ." "Now what was it ye said ye had become?" says Dad. Girl, crying again, Sniff, sniff.... "A prostitute Daddy!" Sniff, sniff. "Oh! Be Jesus! Ye scared me half to death girl! I thought ye said a PROTESTANT. Come here and give yer old Daddy a big hug."
Mother Superior was on her way to late morning prayers when she passed two novices just leaving early morning prayers on their way to classes. As she passed the young ladies, Mother Superior said, "Good morning ladies." The novices replied, "Good morning Mother Superior, may God be with you." But after they had passed, she heard one whisper to the other, "I think she got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Although this disappointed Mother Superior, she chose not to pursue the matter. A little further down the hall, she passed two of the sisters who had been teaching at the convent for several years. She greeted them with "Good morning Sister Martha, Sister Jessica, may God give you the wisdom for our students today." "Good morning, Mother Superior. Thank you, and may God be with you." But again after passing, she overheard, "Oh, I see that she got up on the wrong side of the bed today." Baffled, she began to wonder if she had spoken harshly so she vowed to be more pleasant. Looking down the hall, she saw retired Sister Mary approaching, step by step, with her walker. As old Sister Mary was Rather deaf, Mother Superior had plenty of time to arrange a pleasant smile on her face before greeting her. "Good morning, Sister Mary, I'm so happy to see you up and about. I pray God watches over you today, and grants you a wonderful day." "Ah, good morning, Mother Superior. I see you got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Mother Superior was floored! "Sister Mary, what have I done wrong?" I have tried to be pleasant, yet it doesn't seem to be working." Sister Mary stopped her walker and looked Mother Superior in the face. "Well,' she smiled, 'it's just that you're wearing Father Murphy's slippers again."
An Englishman, a Scotsman, an Irishman, a Welshman, a Latvian, a Turk, a German, an Indian, several Americans (including a Hawaiian and an Alaskan), an Argentinean, a Dane, an Australian, a Slovak, an Egyptian, a Japanese, a Moroccan, a Frenchman, a New Zealander, a Spaniard, a Russian, a Guatemalan, a Colombian, a Pakistani, a Malaysian, a Croatian, an Uzbek, a Cypriot, a Pole, a Lithuanian, a Chinese, a Sri Lankan, a Lebanese, a Cayman Islander, a Ugandan, a Vietnamese, a Korean, a Uruguayan, a Czech, an Icelander, a Mexican, a Finn, a Honduran, a Panamanian, an Andorran, an Israeli, a Venezuelan, an Iranian, a Fijian, a Peruvian, an Estonian, a Syrian, a Brazilian, a Portuguese, a Liechtensteiner, a *****lian, a Hungarian, a Canadian, a Moldovan, a Haitian, a Norfolk Islander, a Macedonian, a Bolivian, a Cook Islander, a Tajikistani, a Samoan, an Armenian, an Aruban, an Albanian, a Greenlander, a Micronesian, a Virgin Islander, a Georgian, a Bahaman, a Belarusian, a Cuban, a Tongan, a Cambodian, a Qatari, an Azerbaijani, a Romanian, a Chilean, a Jamaican, a Filipino, a Ukrainian, a Dutchman, an Ecuadorian, a Costa Rican, a Swede, a Bulgarian, a Serb, a Swiss, a Greek, a Belgian, a Singaporean, an Italian, a Norwegian and 2 Africans, ..... ...walk into a very posh restaurant. "I'm sorry," says the Maître D', after scrutinizing the group .......... "You can't come in here without a Thai."
This is alarming! Beer contains female hormones! Yes, that's right, FEMALE hormones! Last month, Montreal University and scientists released the results of a recent analysis that revealed the presence of female hormones in beer. Men should take a concerned look at their beer consumption. The theory is that beer contains female hormones (hops contain Phytoestrogens) and that by drinking enough beer, men turn into women. To test the theory, 100 men each drank 8 Pints of beer within a one (1) hour period. It was then observed that 100% of the test subjects, yes, 100% of all these men: 1) Argued over nothing. 2) Refused to apologize when obviously wrong. 3) Gained weight. 4) Talked excessively without making sense. 5) Became overly emotional 6) Couldn't drive. 7) Failed to think rationally, and 8) Had to sit down while urinating. No further testing was considered necessary!
-That's the Canadian's for you! English hops have none of that female stuff - they're packed full of fightosterones.
Posted on Twitter by Piers Morgan: "I was very disappointed @bradleywiggins didn't sign the anthem either. Show some repect to our Monarch please!" "@piersmorgan I was disappointed when you did not go to jail for insider trading or phone hacking, but you know, each to his own" Legend.......
As a bagpiper, I play many gigs. Recently I was asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man. He had no family or friends, so the service was to be at a pauper's cemetery in the Kentucky back country. As I was not familiar with the backwoods, I got lost and, being a typical male, I didn't stop to ask for directions. I finally arrived an hour late and saw the funeral guy had evidently gone and the hearse was nowhere in sight. There were only the diggers and crew left and they were eating lunch. I felt bad and apologised to the men for being late. I went to the side of the grave and looked down but the coffin was already covered. I didn't know what else to do, so I started to play. The workers put down their lunches and began to gather around. I played out my heart and soul for this man with no family or friends. I played like I've never played before for this homeless man. And as I played 'Amazing Grace,' the workers began to weep. They wept, I wept, we all wept together. When I finished I packed up my bagpipes and started for my car. Though my head hung low, my heart was full. As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the workers say, "I never seen nothin' like that before and I've been putting in septic tanks for twenty years." Apparently I'm still lost. It's a man thing.
He grasped me firmly, but gently, just above my elbow and guided me into a room, his room. Then he quietly shut the door and we were alone. He approached me soundlessly, from behind, and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear, "Just relax." Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong, calloused hands start at my ankles, gently probing, and moving upward along my calves, slowly but steadily. My breath caught in my throat. I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn't care. His touch was so experienced, so sure. When his hands moved up to my thighs, I gave a slight shudder, and closed my eyes. My pulse was pounding. I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage. And then, as he cupped my breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply. Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to my shoulders, slid them down my tingling spine onto my quivering buttocks. Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and expectant. This is a man, I thought. A man used to taking charge. A man not used to taking 'No' for an answer. A man who would tell me what he wanted. A man who would look into my soul and say . . . . "Okay, madam, you can board your flight now."
