Taking a few days off for medical reasons, Hope to return soon.
That's right Folks. I have to have a few repairs and get re registered (Mot Tested) before I am back on the road. No posts for awhile. See you soon. Vest.'
Hubby Vest is awaiting news regarding his condition etc from seemingly a bunch of slack arsed human body technicians employed by our equally stuffed up health system. Hubby informed me his constant headache has become more bearable over the past 24/hours. Thank you all for your concerns.
Wally, I believe a didgeridoo blasting into hubbies ears may exacerbate his existing malaise. Also you ask in your own peculier way, "Wotsa MOT test"? I am informed by himself that a MOT test is a Pommy Ministry Of Road Transport examination on old Crocks, to ensure their road worthiness. However in hubby's case, his tyres may be a bit flat but his accelerator is working well.
> > THE TAXMAN COMETH > > > > At the end of the tax year, the Tax Office sent an inspector to audit the > > books of a Synagogue. > > > > > > While he was checking the books he turned to the Rabbi and said, 'I > > notice you buy a lot of candles. What do you do with the candle > > drippings?' > > > > > > 'Good question,' noted the Rabbi. 'We save them up and send them back to > > the candle makers, and e very now and then they send us a free box of > > candles.' > > > > > > 'Oh,' replied the auditor, somewhat disappointed that his unusual > > question had a practical answer. > > > > > > But on he went, in his obnoxious way: > > > > 'What about all these bread-wafer purchases? What do you do with the > > crumbs?' > > > > 'Ah, yes,' replied the Rabbi, realising that the inspector was trying to > > trap him with an unanswerable question. 'We collect them and send them > > back to the manufacturers, and every now and then they send us a free box > > of bread-wafers.' > > > > 'I see,' replied the auditor, thinking hard about how he could fluster > > the know-it-all Rabbi. 'Well, Rabbi,' he went on, 'what do you do with > > all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you perform?' > > > > 'Here, too, we do not waste,' answered the Rabbi... > > > > 'What we do is save all the foreskins and send them to the Tax Office, > > and about once a year they send us a complete dick.' > > > >
13 comments:
Heyyyyyy
ask Rose to post
u cant stay off just like that
Hope it all goes well for you Vest. Take care and see you soon.
TC Vesty and God bless!
Come bak soon too :)
XXOXXOO!
Keshi.
A Change in Occupation
A taxi passenger tapped the driver on the shoulder to ask him a question.
The driver screamed, lost control of the car, nearly hit a bus, went up on the sidewalk, and stopped centimeters from a shop window.
For a second, everything went quiet in the cab, then the driver said, "Look mate, don't ever do that again. You scared the daylights out of me!"
The passenger apologized and said he didn't realize that a little tap could scare him so much.
The driver replied, "Sorry, it's not really your fault. Today is my first day as a cab driver - I've been driving a hearse for the last 25 years."
Must have been Vesty doing a dummy run for later on.
Poor old vesty, you aint going yet mate -i'm sending a didgeridoo get well message you old bastard from all my mates.
anyhow wotsa MOT test?.
Oh gosh. Take care of yourself kiddo.
Hubby Vest is awaiting news regarding his condition etc from seemingly a bunch of slack arsed human body technicians employed by our equally stuffed up health system. Hubby informed me his constant headache has become more bearable over the past 24/hours.
Thank you all for your concerns.
Wally, I believe a didgeridoo blasting into hubbies ears may exacerbate his existing malaise.
Also you ask in your own peculier way, "Wotsa MOT test"? I am informed by himself that a MOT test is a Pommy Ministry Of Road Transport examination on old Crocks, to ensure their road worthiness. However in hubby's case, his tyres may be a bit flat but his accelerator is working well.
hey rosey your some cool ole bird ow about having me over while your ole man is crook.
Big Richard, AKA little dick, go and get stuffed.
> > THE TAXMAN COMETH
> >
> > At the end of the tax year, the Tax Office sent an inspector to audit the
> > books of a Synagogue.
> >
> >
> > While he was checking the books he turned to the Rabbi and said, 'I
> > notice you buy a lot of candles. What do you do with the candle
> > drippings?'
> >
> >
> > 'Good question,' noted the Rabbi. 'We save them up and send them back to
> > the candle makers, and e very now and then they send us a free box of
> > candles.'
> >
> >
> > 'Oh,' replied the auditor, somewhat disappointed that his unusual
> > question had a practical answer.
> >
> >
> > But on he went, in his obnoxious way:
> >
> > 'What about all these bread-wafer purchases? What do you do with the
> > crumbs?'
> >
> > 'Ah, yes,' replied the Rabbi, realising that the inspector was trying to
> > trap him with an unanswerable question. 'We collect them and send them
> > back to the manufacturers, and every now and then they send us a free box
> > of bread-wafers.'
> >
> > 'I see,' replied the auditor, thinking hard about how he could fluster
> > the know-it-all Rabbi. 'Well, Rabbi,' he went on, 'what do you do with
> > all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you perform?'
> >
> > 'Here, too, we do not waste,' answered the Rabbi...
> >
> > 'What we do is save all the foreskins and send them to the Tax Office,
> > and about once a year they send us a complete dick.'
> >
> >
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