This bloke received the following cryptic email from his neighbour: I am so sorry Dave. I've been riddled with guilt and I have to confess. I have been tapping your wife, day and night when you're not around. In fact, more than you do. I'm not getting any at home, but that's no excuse. I can no longer live with the guilt and I hope you will accept my sincerest apologies, together with my assurance that it’ll never happen again. The man, anguished and betrayed, went into his bedroom, located his gun, and without a word, shot his wife and killed her. A few moments later, a second email came in: Damn auto correct. I meant "WiFi", not "wife".
This morning, I contacted the Manchester Royal Infirmary to let them know that if my wife's condition should deteriorate, I give my permission for them to switch off the life support machine. They curtly informed me that this isn’t an option for a sprained ankle....
Consider me this: If you're a bear, you get to hibernate. You do nothing but sleep for six months. Before you hibernate, you're supposed to eat yourself stupid. If you're a bear, your children are born the size of walnuts while you're sleeping and you wake to partially grown, cute cuddly cubs. If you're a mother bear, everyone knows you mean business. You swat anyone who bothers your cubs. If they get out of line, you swat them too. If you're a bear, your partner expects you to wake up growling. He expects that you will have hairy legs and excess body fat. I think I once married a bear...
It may be due working in a stage environment, but last week I went to see the quack about my acute deafness. He gave me some medicine and told me to put two drops per day in my beer.
I've been doing it for a week now and I still haven't noticed any improvement whatsoever.
My nephew fell asleep at a house party we had, so for a laugh, like real adult men should always do, I shaved his eyebrows off and drew a moustache in felt tip pen. My sister went berserk when she looked in his pram.
As I placed half a Peri Peri chicken, along with some garlic roasted potatoes, cauliflower cheese and asparagus (wrapped in Parma ham) down on the kitchenette table in front of the missus last night, she looked at me with a big smile. "Are you feeling okay?" she chortled. "I've got to text the all girls and tell them about this!" "Get a move on then" I sez. "You're sitting in my seat."
Thought for Thursday: Before you give someone a piece of your mind, make sure you can spare it.
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