Good news from the Hospital plus my SATNAV.

First of all thanks Malcolm my Nephew For SATNAV.
Didn't need Sat Nav today, Eldest Chris accompanied me on the 90km return to Gosford Hospital where I received the good news that the cancer in my Bladder was gone, a feeling of sheer elation followed knowing there was still some future left to enjoy.
A H at number 13 next door has new neighbours to worry, our friends at number 15 are staying with rellos and will be removing the remaining goods and chattels piled up in our double garage tomorrow, new people are at this moment moving into number 15.
Sat Nav AKA Rosemary er indoors has popped out to the meat raffle at the local club with Molly from number 9 and the lady from number 14.
Spoke to 30 plus Blonde lady over the back fence, told her the good news.
"So you will be up to your old tricks again" Say's she.
"Not a bad Idea" Say's I.
........................................................................


SATNAV................


I have a little Sat Nav
It sits there in my car
A Sat Nav is a driver's friend
It tells you where you are

I have a little Sat Nav
I've had it all my life
It’s better than the normal ones
My Sat Nav is my wife

It gives me full instructions
Especially how to drive
"It's thirty miles an hour", it says
"You're doing thirty five"

It tells me when to stop and start
And when to use the brake
And tells me that it's never ever
Safe to overtake

It tells me when a light is red
And when it goes to green
It seems to know instinctively
Just when to intervene

It lists the vehicles just in front
And all those to the rear
And taking this into account
It specifies my gear.

I'm sure no other driver
Has so helpful a device
For when we leave and lock the car
It still gives its advice

It fills me up with counselling
Each journey's pretty fraught
So why don't I exchange it
And get a quieter sort?

Ah well, you see, it cleans the house,
Makes sure I'm properly fed,
It washes all my shirts and things
And - keeps me warm in bed!

Despite all these advantages
And my tendency to scoff,
I do wish that once in a while
I could turn the damned thing off.


Commiserations for those of you with sat navs.

Vest .... back soon.

Cease trying to work everything out with your minds. It will get you nowhere. Live by intuition and inspiration and let your whole life be a revelation.
Satnavagod Greek Philosopher 69 BC.


.

Comments

Vest said…
Malcolm: thinking aloud you could be right, sorry June.
Mind you it could be worse with Mrs Bucket.
Doris Ward. said…
Wonderful news on the cancer!
Mr. Fly has recently had the all clear in his...and for him too it was a case of let joy be unconfined!
C A, USA. said…
Lack of response to this post could be indicative of your disappointed young relatives having to wait longer for any expected windfall.
Greedy little monsters.
Vest said…
CA: You may be on the right track, however, nothing will be available until the demise of my wife and I and our eldest son. Also we are doing our best to spend it before we depart.
Methinks that a groveling speedy recovery message from a hopeful inheritance hunter would be total waste of time.
Such messages in future would be No Reply and for info only.
Malcolm. said…

Pensioner's reply re Coles Supermarket

Didn't like shopping there anyway. Yesterday I was at my local Cole’s store buying a large bag of Winalot dog food for my loyal pet and was in the checkout queue when a woman behind me asked if I had a dog..

What did she think I had, an elephant? So, since I'm retired and have little to do, on impulse I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, I was
starting the Winalot Diet again. I added that I probably shouldn’t,
because I ended up in hospital last time, but I'd lost 2 stone before I woke up in intensive care with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pockets with Winalot nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally
complete so it works well and I was going to try it again.
(I have to mention here that practically everyone in the queue was now enthralled with my story.)
Horrified, she asked me if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me. I told her no, I stepped off the kerb to sniff an Irish Setter's arse and a car hit me.

I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard. I'm now banned from Coles’s. Better watch what you ask retired people. They have all the time in the world to think of daft things to say.




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