Just a quick post.

Post 423 ~ ~ ~ Saturday, 15th March, 2008.

Hello my friends ~~ I hope you are all enjoying a pleasant
weekend. And your weather is better than before. It's still
very hot here and will be for at least another week.

This morning, John called and took me to get a few things
I needed and then a quiet afternoon. Then a big surprise,
my grandson, Joh arrived to stay overnight. We have been
watching a good movie on TV. "The Longest Yard. " It is
quite funny. Joh is on weekend leave from the Army and
it is nice to see him as always.

Just a couple of jokes tonight ~ ~ ~

Nelson Mandela is sitting at home watching TV and
drinking a beer when he hears a knock on the door. When he
opens it, he is confronted by a little Chinese man, clutching a
clipboard and yelling, "You sign, you sign." Behind him is a
huge truck full of car exhausts.

Nelson is standing there in complete amazement when the
Chinese man starts to yell louder, "You sign, you sign."
Nelson says to him, "Look, you've obviously got the wrong
man," and shuts the door.

The next day he hears a knock at the door again. When he
opens it, the same little Chinese man is back with a huge
truckload of brake pads. He thrust his clipboard under
Nelson's nose, yelling, "You sign, you sign."

Nelson is getting quite annoyed by now and yells back,
"You've got the wrong man, go away." and slams the door.

The following day, he hears another knock at the door, and
there again is the little Chinese man with two very large
trucks full of car parts behind him, and he is yelling, "You
sign, you sign," while thrusting the clipboard at Nelson.

This time, Nelson loses his temper completely, he picks up
the little man by his shirt front and yells at him, "Look, I
don't want these ! Do you understand? You must have the
wrong name ! Who do you want to give these to ?"

The little Chinese man looks at him, very puzzled, consults
his clipboard and says, . . . "You not Nissan Main Dealer ?"
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An Irish girl went to London to work as a secretary and began
sending home money and gifts to her parents.

After a few years they asked her to come home for a visit, as
her father was getting frail and elderly. She pulled up to the
family house in a Rolls Royce and stepped out wearing furs
and diamonds.

As she walked into the house, her father said, " Hmmm, they
seem to be paying secretaries awfully well in London."

The girl took his hands and said, "Dad, I've been meaning to
tell you something for years, but I didn't want to put it in a
letter. I can't hide it from you any longer, I've become a
prostitute."

Her father gasped, put his hand on his heart and keeled over.
The doctor was called but the old man had clearly lost his will
to live. He was put to bed and the priest was called.

As the priest began to administer the last rites, with the mother
and daughter weeping and wailing, the old man muttered
weakly, "I'm a goner, killed by my own daughter. Killed by
the shame of what you've become."

"Please forgive me," his daughter sobbed, "I only wanted to
have nice things. I wanted to send you money and the only way
I could do it, was by becoming a prostitute."

Brushing the priest aside, the old man sat bolt upright in bed,
smiling.
"Did ye say prostitute ? I thought ye said PROTESTANT !!"
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And a quick one from my friend, Barbara. Thank you.

The Three Dolls in a man's life . . . . . . . .

1. . . . . .His Daughter, "Baby Doll."

2. . . . . His Mistress, "Barbie Doll."

3. . . . . His Wife, "Panadol."
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Bye for now, my friends. Take great care and enjoy
the rest of your weekend. Love and best wishes to
you all. Cheers, Merle.

Post 423 ~ ~ ~ Saturday, 15th March, 2008.
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