Jose Mourinho has told Wayne Rooney that if he wants to leave Old Trafford, he’ll have to put it in writing. So that’s the end of that then…
Non- Stick Nora is about to undergo a minor operation. She’s laid on a hospital trolley with nowt on, except a sheet over her. The matron pushes the trolley down the corridor towards the operating theatre, where she leaves Nora on the gurney outside, while she goes in to check whether everything is ready. A young man wearing a white coat approaches, lifts the sheet up, has a look, then he puts the sheet back and then walks away and talks to another bloke in a white coat. The second man comes over, lifts the sheet and does the same. When a third man does exactly the same thing, but more closely, Nora grows impatient and sez: “All these examinations are fine and appreciated, but when are you going to start the operation?” The man in the white coat shrugged his shoulders: “Dunno. We’re just painting the corridor.”
Last Monday ended up a massive disappointment. I went along to support a dwindling trade union, namely The Annual Shoemakers Convention. The committee is made up of a group of octogenarians, who invite guests to learn skills that they have studied and honed over a lifetime in the trade. I have to honestly say it was the biggest load of old cobblers that I ever had the gross misfortune to associate myself with.
My old mate, Tommy Grabknuckle was informed by his doctor that he only had six months to live. His two sisters, Tina and Marje were inconsolable and devastated by the sad news. They were constantly sobbing. He had to tell ’em, “Don’t Cry For Me, Marje andTina”…
A man walks into the street and flags down a passing taxi. “Perfect timing” he tells the driver. “You’re just like Tommy.” “Who?” asks the cabbie. “Tommy Grabknuckle. He’s a man who did everything correct all the time. He could have won the Grand Slam at tennis and played golf with Tiger Woods. He sang like an opera tenor, and you should have seen him dance.” “Sounds like quite a guy” says the driver “That’s not the half of it. He had a memory like a computer. He could remember everybody’s birthday. He was a connoisseur of wine, was a gourmet cook. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse and the whole street is blacked out” “Wow, what a man” “He knew how to treat a woman. His clothing was always immaculate, his shoes polished. He was the perfect man. Nobody could ever measure up to him” “Amazing. How did you meet him?” “Oh, I never met Tommy. I just married his widow”
Thought for Thursday: It becomes evident that you’ve put on a lot of weight, when you sit in the bath and the water in the toilet rises!
If I could offer you some advice for the future: Dance like you are mortally injured. Make love like your being filmed and you need the money. Work when people are watching. Dress up in Lycra. Always leave a false name. Be legendary. Believe in Karma. If at first you don’t succeed, then redefine success. Visit my website http://www.ComedianUK.com and continue the quest! Email me:firstname.lastname@example.org