3 December 2023

Well, that transitioned in a heartbeat – we’re no longer “unseasonably warm” and have gone straight into “unseasonably cold” according to the weather people. Cold, frosty mornings with below-zero temperatures under occasionally clear, bright blue skies. The frosty mornings do mean less mud and grime on the dog when she returns from a stroll but it also means that the hose is frozen so washing up afterwards is a bit of a challenge.

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3 December 2023 – Amusements

An elderly man goes into a brothel and tells the madam he would like a young girl for the night.

Surprised, she looks at the ancient man and asks how old he is.

“I’m 90 years old,” he says.

“90!” replies the woman. “Don’t you realize you’ve had it?”

“Oh, I have?” says the old man. “I’m sorry. How much do I owe you?”

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26 November 2023

Another perfectly reasonable and acceptable week – what are the chances of that? It’s still pretty wet although it hasn’t been lashing it down this week so there’s that to be grateful for. It’s continued “unseasonably warm” but the weather people are saying that’s going to end any day now. Indeed, it’s been so “unseasonably warm” that I had to drag the lawn mower out of hibernation and give the lawns yet another short, back and sides. This is crazy! We should not be needing to mow lawns in late November!

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26 November 2023 – Amusements

As it was our anniversary yesterday, I thought this was quite appropriate (and accurate).

After a quarrel, a husband said to his wife, “You know, I was a fool when I married you.” And the wife replied, “Yes, dear, but I was in love and didn’t notice it.”

Mrs. Pauly was sipping on a glass of wine, while sitting on the porch with her husband, and she says, “I love you so much; you’ve stood by me in good times and bad; I don’t know how I could ever live without you.”

Pauly asks, “Is that you or the wine talking?”

She replies, “It’s me… talking to the wine.”

Two builders go into the pub after a hard day’s work. They’re sat drinking for a while when a very smartly dressed man walks in and orders a drink. The two began to speculate about what the man did for a living.

“I’ll bet he’s an accountant.” said the first builder.

“Looks more like a stockbroker to me,” argued the second. They continued to debate the subject for a good while until eventually the first builder needed to use the toilet. On walking in, he saw the smartly dressed man standing at a urinal.

“Excuse me mate, but me and my friend have been arguing over what a smartly dressed fella like you does for a living?” the builder said to the man.

Smiling the man replied, “I’m a logical scientist.”

“A what?” asked the builder.

“Let me explain,” the man continued, “Do you have a goldfish at home?”

A bit puzzled, but intrigued the builder decided to play along, “Yes, I do as it happens.”

“Well then it’s logical to assume that you either keep it in a bowl or a pond. Which is it?”

“A pond,” the builder replied.

“Well, then it’s logical to assume that you have a large garden.” The builder nodded his agreement. So the man continued, “which means it’s logical to assume you have a large house.”

“I have a 6 bedroom house that I built myself,” the builder said proudly.

“Given that you have such a large house, it’s logical to assume that you are married…”

The builder nodded again, “Yes, I’m married and we have three children.”

“Then it’s logical to assume that you have a healthy sex life.”

“Five nights a week!” the builder boasted.

The man smiled a little, “Therefore it’s logical to assume you don’t masturbate often.”

“Never!” the builder exclaimed.

“Well there you have it” the man explained, “That’s logical science at work. From finding out that you have a goldfish, I’ve discovered the size of your garden, all about your house, your family and your sex life!”

The builder left, very impressed by the man’s talents. On returning to the bar the other builder asked, “I see that smart bloke was in there, did you find out what he does?”

“Yeah,” replied the first, “He’s a logical scientist.”

“A what?” the puzzled second builder asked.

“Let me explain,” the first builder continued, “Do you have a goldfish at home?”

“No” replied his mate.

“Well, you’re a wanker then!”

19 November 2023 – Amusements

A police officer was investigating an accident on a two-lane, narrow road in which the drivers had run into one another virtually head-on.

One driver, an extremely elderly woman, kept repeating, “He wouldn’t let me have my half of the road!”

After gathering as much information as possible, he angrily approached the other driver, who was examining his own damage. The police officer asked, “That old lady says that you wouldn’t let her have her half of the road. Why not?

In exasperation, the man turns from his smashed car and says, “Officer, I would have been HAPPY to give her half of the road — if she had just let me know WHICH half she wanted!!!!”

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12 November 2023 – Amusements

A man returns in the morning to a bar in which he’d spent the previous night. “Is it true that I drank $100 worth of booze here last night?” he asks.

“You did in fact drink $100 worth of alcohol here last night,” the bartender assures him.

“Thank God,” the man says, greatly relieved. “I was afraid I’d lost that money.”

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5 November 2023

Well, if it’s not Storm Babet, it must be Storm Ciarán – I suppose we did have a day or two in between. Lots of rain, strong winds and very, very wet but once again we escaped the brunt of the storm. There is an awful lot of water though – for those of you who know the little stream at the bottom of Brook Street, it is usually a trickle but on Thursday morning it was up over the footbridge, I am informed by Ms Playchute. So, while we are fine apart from the wet and muddy dog who stinks up the house, you have to pity those poor folks who just about dried out from Babet and then now have been clobbered by Ciarán.

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5 November 2023 – Amusements

A new miracle doctor was in town. He could cure anything and anybody, and everyone was amazed. Everyone except for Mr. Smith, the town’s grouch. So Mr. Smith went to this ‘miracle doctor’ to prove that he wasn’t anybody special. So he goes and tells the doctor, “Hey, doc, I have lost my sense of taste. I can’t taste nothing, so what are you going to do?”

The doctor scratches his head and mumbles to himself a little, then tells Mr. Smith, “What you need is jar number 43.”

Jar number 43, Mr. Smith wonders? So the doctor brings the jar and tells Mr. Smith to taste it. He tastes it and immediately spits it out, “This is gross!” he yells.

“I just restored your sense of taste Mr. Smith,” says the doctor.

So Mr. Smith goes home very mad. One month later, Mr. Smith goes back to the doctor along with a new problem, “Doc,” he starts, “I can’t remember!”

Thinking he got the doctor, the doctor scratches his head and mumbles to himself a little and tells Mr. Smith, “What you need is jar number 43…”

Before the doctor finished his sentence, Mr. Smith fled the office.

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