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Saturday 19 January 2013

The Medium & Non-Stick Nora....








Non-Stick Nora went to see a psychic medium. She sat in a dark, foreboding parlour, whilst the spiritualist dealt tarot cards onto a green baize table, then delivered a most ominous prophecy. "There's no simple way to tell you this, so I'll just be frank. Prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a most violent and horrible death this year." Visibly shaken, Nora stared at the wizened countenance of the soothsayer, then at the flickering candelabra, then down at her knees. She exhaled deeply to compose herself and attempted to instigate some manner of karma within her being. She really had to know the absolute truth. She met the fortune teller's gaze, steadied her voice and asked, "Will I be acquitted?"



Fascinating Fact: You don’t need me to tell you, because it’s a well known fact that Anfield is still one of the hardest premier league grounds to win at. So is this why Liverpool are struggling this season?



I ordered a burger in the cafe at Tesco. The waitress sez, “Would you like anything on it?” “Yeah”, I answered, “A fiver each way”....



I came home with a dozen red roses and the wife sez, "Okay, what have you been up to?" I replied, "I've slept with your sister." She screamed at me, "If you think that a lousy bunch of flowers is gonna get you off the hook for that, then you're sadly mistaken!" I said, "They're for your sister..."



Two village idiots were driving a truck down a narrow road in Derbyshire when they came to a low bridge. The sign said Headroom: 10 feet 11 inches, so they got out to measure their wagon. Unfortunately, the vehicle was just over 12 feet high. They didn't know what to do, when finally one of them looked both directions and said, "I don't see any police, let's go for it!"



Thought for Thursday: It's dead easy for any man to ascertain just how gorgeous any female in a room is, by the number of times his wife calls her a trollop....



The week before last, whilst I was putting away all Christmas stuff in the loft, I came across a 1977 copy of TV Times, or the Sex Offenders Register as it is now known...



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