Ever since I was a child, I've always had a fear of someone under my bed at night.

So I went to a shrink and told him:
“I've got problems. Every time I go to bed I think there's somebody under it.
I'm scared. I think I'm going crazy.”

“Just put yourself in my hands for one year.” said the shrink.
“Come talk to me three times a week and we should be able to get rid of those fears.”

“How much do you charge?”

“Eighty dollars per visit,” replied the doctor.

“I'll sleep on it,” I said.

Six months later the doctor met me on the street.
“Why didn't you come to see me about those fears you were having?” he asked.

“Well, eighty bucks a visit, three times a week for a year, is $12,480.00.
A bartender cured me for $10.
I was so happy to have saved all that money that I went and bought me a new pickup truck.”

“Is that so?”
With a bit of an attitude he said, “And how, may I ask, did a bartender cure you?”

“He told me to cut the **** legs off the bed. Ain't nobody under there now.”

It's always better to get a second opinion. . . .

geoff

Beer every time …… :supercool::chuckle:

https://youtu.be/cca1IfyJ0AE

I went to value a house, I was the tape holder and scribe.

"Main room, 12' 6""

Elderly owner "Doctors saved my life"

"Really? 10' 3""

"Yes saved my life"

This went on through the whole house until just before we left

"Doctors saved my life, cut my ballocks off, I was shagging myself to death!"

Silence, then "We will send you a valuation".

On their way to get married, a young Catholic couple is involved in a fatal car accident.
The couple find themselves sitting outside the Pearly Gates waiting for St. Peter to process them into Heaven.

While waiting, they start to wonder: Could they get married in Heaven?
When St. Peter shows up, they immediately ask him.

St. Peter replies, “I don’t know. This is the first time anyone has asked.
Let me go find out.” He leaves.

The couple sat and waited for St. Peter to return, but he never did.
Nine weeks later, and the couple were still waiting.
They started to wonder, if things didn’t work out, could they get a divorce in heaven?
Another month later, St. Peter finally returns, looking somewhat bedraggled.

“Yes,” he informs the couple. “You can get married in Heaven.”

“Awesome!” the couple responds enthusiastically.
“But we were just wondering, what if things don’t work out?
Could we also get a divorce in Heaven?”

St. Peter’s face suddenly turned red with anger.
He slammed his clipboard to the ground.
Frightened, the couple asked “What’s wrong?”

“OH, COME ON!” St. Peter shouted. “It took me three months to find a priest up here!
Do you have any idea how long it’ll take me to find a lawyer?”

geoff

Like it Erimus

Whenever I’m up In Lancashire I always try and pop in to see my friend Derek Jones at his place of work.
He works in a garment factory doing a bit of running round for the boss.

I went a year ago and said “I’ve come to see Derek Jones”

“Oh” said the boss, “you’ve missed him, he’s popped out, he’s gone for cotton”

So I tried again a few months later, I called in.

Again the boss said “You’ve missed him again, he’s popped out, he’s gone for cotton”

I called in again and said “I’m here to see Derek Jones... is he here, or has he popped out for cotton again”

“Oh” said the boss” He died a few weeks ago. But see that cemetery over the road? He’s over there”

So I found his gravestone and it said.

Here lies Derek Jones.
Gone, but not for cotton.

AAARRGHHHH Bob. All that time with CP Ships has done you in
Take care.
Les

I know it's daft, but it made me laugh out loud. I'm in my village Facebook group and there are always complaints about dog business on the pavements. So I posted this and I'm happy to say everybody got the joke. :)

That is very good and really original.

A Swiss guy, looking for directions, pulls up at a bus stop where two Englishmen are waiting.

"Entschuldigung, koennen Sie Deutsch sprechen?" he says. The two Englishmen just stare at him.

"Excusez-moi, parlez vous Francais?" The man asks. The two continue to stare.

"Parlare Italiano?" No response.

"Hablan ustedes Espanol?" Still nothing.

The Swiss guy drives off, extremely disgusted.

The first Englishman turns to the second and says, "Y'know, maybe we should learn a foreign language...."

"Why?" says the other, "That bloke knew four languages, and it didn't do him any good."

geoff

A weasel walks into a bar.

The bartender says: "Wow, I've never served a weasel before. What can I get you ?"

"Pop," goes the weasel. :bye:

Ah Bob, the world's in turmoil; the Viking Sky is battered to bits, Trump is found not guilty, Brexit is going belly up and you are telling stories about half a pound of tuppenny rice and a similar quantity of treacle.
Gravitas is needed in these worrying times.

Bloody Vikings ! … Who's Trump ? … What's Brexit ? ..:supercool::sweat:

Isn't it enough that 'they' have recently detected gravitasional waves from the sky?

At least we know that that's the way the money goes ----- explains why I don't have very much -- money that is !! I do have a couple of tins of Lyle's Black Treacle though.

As for the rice, I'd like to know who the heathen was who thought of using the stuff to make, or add to beer. There was no Bavarian rice as far as I know. :pint:

Many years ago there used to be a cartoon strip in the Daily Mirror called 'The Perishers.' There were a number of annual themes one of which I remember well. The group would go on a summer holiday to the seaside and the shaggy dog, 'Boot,' would always go to a crab pool to peer in and see what was going on. Down in the depths of the crab pool this gave rise to a religion amongst the crabs, based on the "Eyeballs in the Sky" that appeared each year. More often than not this ended up in madness and chaos .. (religions do that.) :shock:

It also gave rise to some funny jokes though ….. :jump:

Gustav Rice and his brother Adolphus started brewing beer in the foothills of the Oberbayern in 1527. The clear water run-off from the Zugspitze was their USP and Rice Bier was a firm favourite in the Bier Kellers of Bavaria and Baden Wurttemberg. The 1611 Treaty of Mannheim refers to Rice Bier in Codicil VII, permitting it to be sold in the contiguous Landes of Swabia.
Everything ticked along nicely and eventually in 1908 King Ludwig III of Baveria gained control of the brewery by way of dubious share dealing. In 1915 Crown Prince Rupprecht decreed that bier issued to the troops should have an alcoholic content of no more than 4.5%, Brauerei Reis brewed Brockbier at 9% and had to change production to a Pils type beer to meet military requirements.
In June 1919 the Treaty of Versailles caused Brauerei Reis to be split up with a lot of the equipment being disassembled and transported to Alsace and installed in an old warehouse. This was the beginnings of the famous Strassbourg Brewerei, indeed for one week every our MEP's sip the cool beer without knowing its history.

What's with all this recent stuff -- the Egyptians were brewing beer approx 5,000 years ago. (No rice in the recipe either! ?? ) :)

I've been in one or two pubs up in the Northeast where I suspect they were still serving that Egyptian beer …. :sweat:

It's a wonder what the fuzzy wuzzy can come up with when pushed. We survived on Maccabee whilst carrying the Shah's oil to Israel. An onion brew. Until the chandler shafted us with an off batch (the beer not the onions) then we switched to Oranjeboom - an eminent advocate of the allium version (one of which, it isn't).

Some people have no taste,have they!
Nowt wrong wi NE Beer.
geoff

Fairy Tale
I met a magical fairy yesterday who said she would grant me one wish.

"I wish to live forever," I said.

"Sorry," said the fairy, "I'm not allowed to grant that particular wish."

"Fine," I said, "then I want to die the day after Parliament is filled with honest, hard-working, bipartisan men and women who act only in the people's best interests!"

"You crafty *******," replied the fairy.

geoff

On the Stephenson Clarke Flattie, the Horsham, I did three months plodding up and down from the Northeast to the Southeast, (with one daring run 'deep sea' to Amsterdam for grain) and during that time I did so many ports I've forgotten most of them.
In the main, yes it was good, but I tell yer, in some pubs in those strange little places along the Tyne it tasted like it was Egyptian Embalming Fluid recently drained from a 5000 year old Pharaoh mummy. :pint::egg:

Never had that experience so will bow to you Bob.

geoff