Maybe this has been posted already...but.
Some years ago Tiger woods was playing a golf tournament in Ireland and when completed he was returning to the airport in his hired Volvo.
He stopped at a country petrol station and Paddy the attendant arrived to fill his car up, while Paddy was filling the car Tiger decided to stretch his legs and stepped out of the car and at same time a Tee fell from his pocket onto the floor by Paddys feet.
Paddy asked....what would that thing be sir? Tiger replied it was a tee, Paddy (who was not a golf expert) asked what does it do?
Tiger answered it was for putting his balls on while driving.............Paddy replied Jesussssssss...those Volvo guys think of everything! Fix it until it's broke !

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"I can't always believe facts I read on the web" - Charles Dickens

winner by default of the tractor vs caravan race

Erectile Dysfunction Report post

On his 70th birthday, a man was given a gift certificate from his wife. The certificate was for consultation with an Indian medicine man (on a nearby reservation) who was rumored to have a simple cure for erectile dysfunction. The husband went to the reservation and saw the medicine man.

The old Indian gave him a potion and, with a grip on his shoulder, warned ‘This is a powerful medicine. You take only a teaspoonful, and then say: ‘1-2-3.' When you do, you will become more manly than you have ever been in your life, and you can perform for as long as you want."

The man thanked the old Indian, and as he walked away, he turned and asked: “How do I stop the medicine from working?" "Your partner must say ‘1-2-3-4,' he responded, "but when she does, the medicine will not work again until the next full moon."

He was very eager to see if it worked so he went home, showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine, and then invited his wife to join him in the bedroom. When she came in, he took off his clothes and said: "1-2-3!" Immediately, he was the manliest of men.

His wife was excited and began throwing off her clothes, and asked: "What's the 1-2-3 for???"

 LL.B (Hons) - University of Derby
LOT (Lord of Time) - University of Gallifrey

BENEFITS STREET Channel 4 (article from The Spectator... pretty funny)

My favourite scene in the first episode of the new series of Benefits Street (Mondays, Channel 4) — now relocated to a housing estate in the north-east, but otherwise pretty much unchanged — was the one where the street’s resident stoner and low-level criminal Maxwell has to attend a court summons.

...With just 15 minutes to go before Maxwell’s court hearing seven miles away, his brother turns up to give him a lift on his motorbike.

But there’s one small problem. Maxwell’s brother is still under the influence of the vast quantities of diazepam he’s carrying with him in his bag. ‘I took ten last night. I don’t even know what day it is.’ The sensible solution, they decide, is to park the bike at Maxwell’s house, neck a handful more pills, and make their way to the court by bus. Unfortunately, en route, they are assailed by an urgent need to stop for a lollypop called an Ice Bucket. From inside the newsagent, the camera captures the bus they should have taken whizzing past. Maxwell and his brother appear mildly affronted by the stubborn failure of Reality to accord with the plan in their heads. Increasingly delirious, they stagger on…

I suppose if you were a Guardian reader — or indeed Maxwell’s local MP Alex Cunningham, who has been trying to get mileage out of this issue — you’d think this was exploitation. Here are ordinary non-working folk being wheeled out like performing monkeys for Channel 4’s latest ratings-grabbing exercise in ‘poverty porn’.

Actually, though, I think if anyone is being exploited here, it’s those of us who have to fork out for these epically useless scroungers’ welfare bills. Their housing benefit alone — in Stockton-on-Tees’s Kingston Road and its equivalents across the country — costs us nearly £24 billion a year. Add to that the disability benefit paid for dubious conditions like Maxwell’s — he suffers memory loss: not altogether surprisingly given the acres of weed he smokes each day — and the cost of his various court cases and you can’t help thinking that the bread and circuses of shows like Benefits Street are the very least we deserve in return for our compulsory generosity.
 ...

Be true to yourself. That way happiness lies...

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"I can't always believe facts I read on the web" - Charles Dickens

winner by default of the tractor vs caravan race

taztastic wrote:

Actually that sign is probably illegal, can you imagine how a foreigner would be expected to understand what it was going on about? you know discrimination and all that??

foreigners ( any non Yorkshireman) in Yorkshire dont need red lights as they have to conceded to any vehicle driven by a Yorkshireman.

traffic lights are just for when two Yorkist vehicles meet At work
At home

"I can't always believe facts I read on the web" - Charles Dickens

winner by default of the tractor vs caravan race

Landiroamer wrote:

can you imagine how a foreigner would be expected to understand what it was going on about?

[Like Gaelic ?]

Oh you mean the Llandofgocomparegogogoh? thats just plain weird totally, is it a language?

chicken sandwich perhaps? At work
At home

"I can't always believe facts I read on the web" - Charles Dickens

winner by default of the tractor vs caravan race

You will chuckle as you read this ..... Because as stupid as it may sound,

this is exactly what we do!


GOD to ST. FRANCIS:
Frank, ... You know all about gardens and nature. What in

the world is going on down there on the planet? What

happened to the dandelions, violets, milkweeds and stuff

I started eons ago? I had a perfect no-maintenance garden

plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand

drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the

long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and

flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of

colors by now. But, all I see are these green rectangles.

St. FRANCIS:
It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites.

They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to

great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.

GOD:
Grass? But, it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't

attract butterflies, birds and bees; only grubs and sod

worms. It's sensitive to temperatures. Do these

Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?

ST. FRANCIS:
Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it

and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing

grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.

GOD:
The spring rains and warm weather probably make

grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.

ST. FRANCIS:
Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they

cut it-sometimes twice a week.

GOD:
They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?




ST. FRANCIS:
Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.

GOD:
They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?

ST. FRANCIS:
No, Sir, just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.

GOD:
Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so

it will grow. And, when it does grow, they cut it off

and pay to throw it away?

ST. FRANCIS:
Yes, Sir.

GOD:
These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer

when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat.

That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.




ST. FRANCIS:
You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass

stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay

more money to water it, so they can continue to mow

it and pay to get rid of it.

GOD:
What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees.

That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself.

The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty

and shade in the summer. In the autumn, they fall to

the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture

in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. It's a

natural cycle of life.




ST. FRANCIS:
You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have

drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they

rake them into great piles and pay to have them

hauled away.

GOD:
No!? What do they do to protect the shrub and

tree roots in the winter to keep the soil moist and loose?

ST. FRANCIS:
After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy

something which they call mulch. They haul it home

and spread it around in place of the leaves.

GOD:
And where do they get this mulch?

ST. FRANCIS:
They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.

GOD:
Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore.

St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie

have you scheduled for us tonight?




ST. CATHERINE:
'Dumb and Dumber', Lord. It's a story about....

GOD:
Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story

from St. Francis.


Bill  Life Honorary Member of Wallasey Motor Club.
Licenced MSA Radio Operator for 35+ years.
Rallying is the only sport.