Monday, 28 July 2008

Remember me?

It's been sooo long? Hope you're good and enjoying the sunshine.

Had a lurvely week off - spent a few days in Croyde surfing - just me, chillin' out, eat, surf, sleep, repeat etc. And then of course we all went up to Croydon at the weekend for producer Lewis & Cat's wedding. Beautiful day, beautiful couple and the beer was pretty good too.

So all round life is pretty good at the moment. The only slight downer is an engine light which has come on on the Blue Peril. Had to stop in Exeter on the way home from Devon to get it checked out. Luckily it's nothing critical but it needs to be sorted. The people at the garage were truly lovely - kept me supplied with coffee and tea whilst the mechanic looked at it - but it did end up costing 65 quid just to tell me why the bulb was lit. Not to fix it - just to say "Yup - the bulb's on." I kind of knew that already.

Anyway am starting to think the light is simply to remind me to spend money on the car and has come on because it's been at least a couple of months with nothing going wrong. Am fairly sure all cars are fitted with a similar device.

You wouldn't get that on a camper.

So here's the joke ...

A man went into a pet shop and said to the owner, I'd like to buy a pet that is out of the ordinary - unusual. The pet shop owner replied, well, I have one Rairy-bird left... The man said, I've never even heard of a Rairy-bird, that certainly makes it unusual, I'll take it!

So the man brought home his new Rairy-bird and soon found out that it had a huge appetite! It was always hungry!!

Finally, the Rairy-bird was so big and fat that it wouldn't fit inside the house anymore, much less the cage! The man said to himself: I've got to get rid of this animal-I can't afford to feed it! So he rented a huge dump truck, put the Rairy-bird into the back, and drove to the edge of a high cliff.
He then dumped the Rairy-bird out of the truck and over the cliff!!

Thinking that all his troubles were over, the man was driving home when he suddenly heard this singing coming from the back of the dump- truck ...

"It's a long way to tip a Rairy."

Wednesday, 16 July 2008

I can't breathe ....

... from laughing.

Have just watched the film footage of the roller coaster ice cream incident of Wednesday 16th July 2008. Possibly the funniest thing I've seen this year and if you watch very closely there was definitely some skulduggery going on in a couple of the turns.

For some really boring reason I can't go into I can't stick the film up on the blog but keep an eye out for it on the web or Facebook group as it may well turn up.

Anyway I hope it hasn't been too long since you had one of those moments when your capacity to draw breath is severely compromised by laughing too hard.

Medically risky but man it feels so good.

So to the joke ...

A ghost loses the tail of his sheet in a revolving door and goes to an off-licence to get a new one.

'Sorry', says the man behind the counter. 'We don't sell tails and we don't serve ghosts.'

The ghost replies.

'That's not true. The sign in the window says you retail spirits.'

Tuesday, 15 July 2008

Football crazy

Monday night = football night, of course.

Nearly a full turn out from the boys and a debut appearance from Producer Lewis. Unfortunately for all of us he fluked a wonder goal from, I would say, about 20 yards out. No sooner had the ball hit the back of the net than the length of strike had increased to 25 yards. By this morning it was a 30 yarder and as a write it's a 50 yard dipping shot struck with the outside of his boot on his laces.

Don't believe a word of it. It was a tap in.

One thought re: football. You're guaranteed to hear someone shouting "Keep it simple, lads." I mean it's not like it's altogether that complex in the first place, is it? Kick ball in goal. Er .. that's it.

You never hear the rousing shout "Let's complicate it, boys" or "I think we've just got the right balance between straight forward and intricate, lads."

Perhaps it's just me.

A camping store was holding a Christmas sale and the manager put the young English Literature student, who had a holiday job there, in charge of thinking up a suitable slogan ....

And so - that's how the slogan was born ..... "Now is the offer of our discount tents."

Monday, 14 July 2008

Back to work for a rest

Happy Monday people.

I have another theory to run by you as management executives might say.

Weekends last longer if you do more. Now you may be thinking the opposite. If you're running around like a blue thingied wotsit you might be under the impression it will positively zip by but I can assure you you're wrong.

The more you do the longer it feels. Fact.

I've just had one of those weekends. I actually don't think it would have been humanly possible to do anything else even if I tried. It was bloomin' marvellous and I even saw Lewis Hamilton too. Of course right now I can hardly stay awake, feel like I've peaked far too early and am off for an early night.

Roll on the weekend.

So here's the joke ...

Four men are in a boat. They decide to have a smoke, but discover no one has any matches...
After spending five minutes deciding on what they could do, one of the men comes up with a solution and throws a cigarette into the sea.

Another man turns to him and says "Why did you do that for?"

"Ah," says the man. "I've made the boat a cigarette lighter."

Friday, 11 July 2008

The joys of fish finger sandwiches

It's been a bit of a full on week this week but all work wise so nothing hugely interesting to report back sadly. Can't decide whether it's a good or a bad sign but yesterday evening when I got in I promptly passed out on the sofa fast asleep whilst still wearing my coat/jacket.

I didn't wake up until about 9.30pm at which point I stumbled into the kitchen, put my head in the fridge and decided what I really fancied at that moment in time was a toasted fish finger sandwich with mayo and black pepper. Bizarre. I have no idea where that thought came from but I went with it and promptly loaded 6 fish fingers onto the grill and armed the toaster with a couple of rounds of bread.

Once that was on the go it was then a case of which beverage best accompanies the mighty fish finger sandwich ... traditionally tea - but that gives it too much of a breakfast feel for half past nine at night. Wine perhaps was too sophisticated and I was clean out of beer.

And so it was at 9.43pm on Thursday night I found myself sipping organic cider in between mouthfuls of a slightly over toasted fish finger sandwich.

I may have discovered a taste sensation.

You read it here first ....

So here are the jokes (sorry I missed yesterday's)

Harry wants to get married but can't find a girl his mother approves of. To solve this dilemma a friend suggests that he looks for a girl just like his mother, so he does. He finds a woman who looks like her, dresses like her, and talks like her. Then he takes her home to meet his parents.

"How did it go?" asks the friend.

"Awful," say Harry. "My dad can't stand the woman."

And .......

Two herrings , Cain and Abel, were regular visitors to a bar. One day, Cain showed up alone and the bartender asked: "Where's your brother?"

"How should I know?" said Cain. "Am I my brothers kipper?"

Wednesday, 9 July 2008

I'm bored/board .....

... of losing at stupid board games.

Last night was not a good night for me. Went round to Producer Al's for dinner and somewhat inevitably it was suggested the old board games should be dusted down and given a whirl. Now I'm not complaining but surely the guests should be allowed to choose which game is played? As a result I found myself playing an updated version of snakes and ladders involving space rockets and exploding supernovas (apparently it's what Al's kids are into), a small child's Lego building game and that 1970's classic - Perfection.

Red wine has a lot to answer for.

It started badly. Really badly. My cardboard space ship was quickly sucked into a black hole never to be seen again. Never mind I thought - I'm pretty good at Lego. However it soon becomes apparent I'm not good at throwing dice, collecting cards and playing Lego. This game is for kids ages 3 and up - I'm 37.

As for Perfection - it was anything but and the rest of the evening was spent scrabbling about trying to find the plastic shapes that had been ejected from the 1970's classic because I was too slow.


Give me Operation anytime.

So here's the joke ...

Two Eskimos were paddling their kayak along the Alaskan coast. The temperatures were so freezing that even beneath their layers of clothing the Eskimos started to feel the cold. In a desperate attempt to keep warm they lit a fire - but the wooden kayak went up in flames and the Eskimos were never seen again ....

The moral of the story is you can't have your kayak and heat it.

Monday, 7 July 2008

Silly boys

No - not the Stag do ... this was the night before.

There I was walking back to the car after work. Time wise it's around about 10.30pm. Four teenagers are walking towards me - I'm guessing 14ish years old. Three walk past without a problem - the fourth purposely bangs his shoulder into me (I'm guessing he meant to go shoulder to shoulder however he was too short).

Anyway he starts mouthing off asking why I bumped into him. I smile, mainly in sympathy for his parents, and walk on back to the car at which point his little friend comes and gets him, turns him around and encourages him to carry on walking with them.

Now silly boy wasn't to know that I have never been in a fight in my life and if push came to shove I would more than like be the one being both pushed and shoved. But it just got me thinking that if silly boy had done that to someone else, someone who perhaps had been in fights and someone who might be slightly more highly strung with something more to prove than me his Friday night might not have gone the way he planned.

It's so depressing reading endless headlines of assaults and stabbings - of people making stupid split second decisions that change lives. We've all done silly things and like silly boy on Friday 99 percent of the time nothing happens as a result.

But if you're that 1 percent ....

See you tomorrow.

So here's the joke ...

A police officer made the mistake of arresting a judge who went to a party dressed as a convict.
The episode taught the cop a valuable lesson .... you can't book a judge by his cover.

Friday, 4 July 2008

An uncanny knack

I've had a particular talent since the age of six.

I know exactly how much food I have left without even counting or looking at it.

It all began with Pacer mints. Remember those? From the 1970's - spearmint and peppermint chews - one of my particular childhood favourites. Anyway off I'd go on a Friday afternoon or Saturday morning to spend my pocket money (can remember when it used to be 10p a week and I tell you what 10p would go a looong way back then). Burton Village stores used to get my trade and invariably packets of Pacers would be bought.

There'd I'd be happily chewing away - take one, unwrap it, packet back in pocket, sweet inserted into gob. And somehow, somewhere in my tiny brain I'd be keeping count. So if I went off and played Frisbee I'd know exactly how many I should still have - handy if you have two older brothers. I remember turning my bedroom upside down searching for the end of the packet because I knew I had a pacer left that I hadn't eaten. It took me hours (literally) with my mum telling me they'd all gone but I still knew there should be one left. And finally - after a lot of searching there it was - the single pacer in a rather dog eared looking packet.

It's a rare gift.

Anyway the reason I'm boring you with this is for the simple fact I know I have at least a quarter of a chocolate tarte currently waiting for me in my fridge.

Oh - and two fifths of a tub of vanilla ice cream in the freezer.

The weekend starts here ....

So here's the joke ...

A clown moved into an apartment block reserved solely for circus performers. He liked everything about the apartment. The kitchen was modern, the bedroom was comfortable and the lounge was spacious. And there were plenty of facilities - cooker, hoover, refrigerator, washing machine. The only thing that was missing was an ironing board, something on which he could press his circus uniform after washing it.

"Why is there no ironing board?" he asked the agent. "The lion tamer and the juggler have both got one."

"You use the window ledge, like the other clowns explained the agent - it's in your contract .... Every clown has a sill for ironing."

Thursday, 3 July 2008

"We really must ...."

How many times have you said that? Possibly to a friend, to family, to someone you haven't seen for ages and just bumped into on the street. How many times have you said "We really must meet up/go for a beer/have you over ...."

And how many times has it actually happened?

I had some new neighbours move in about six months ago. Said a cheery hello to them as they lumped their furniture from van to new home. Said they really should come over for a beer or something to eat. And how long did it take? Six months.

I am soooo rubbish.

And I can make all sorts of excuses about not having enough time or being too busy. But last night was great fun and they're both truly lovely people - subjected them to my cooking, plied them alcohol and even got the guitars out. Am fairly sure they enjoyed themselves although haven't seen them since. Anyway until I find out they're planning to sue me for too dull a night I'm thinking should have done it months ago.

And it got me thinking - next time there's a "we really must ..." situation why don't we all just set a proper date there and then.

No, really, we must ...

So here's the joke ...

The manager of an old people's home decides to hire an animal act to entertain everyone at the home's annual tea party. He calls a theatrical agent and asks what sort of acts he has on offer.

"I've got a tiger," says the agent. "It does a high wire act and juggles plates."

"Too dangerous," replies the manager. "It might fall on someone or bite them."

"How about a performing seal?" asks the agent. "It can play musical instruments."

"Too noisy," replies the manager, "The old folk won't like it. What we need is something unusual but nice a sedate so it won't upset them."

"I know," says the agent. "How about Morris the gibbon. He's very quiet and all he does is card tricks."

"Sounds good," says the manager. "Let's try a mellow gibbon round the old folk's tea ..."

Wednesday, 2 July 2008

Now with added value

Am typing this whilst lying in a darkened room.

We've decided rather than less is more - definitely more is more. As a result the good ship Jon Cuthill Show's boilers are being stoked to the max. If it's local it's on - rack 'em and stack 'em and it seems to be working a treat.

All I'm going to say is ragwort, faulty life jackets, a man who's just made 40 million quid with a bit of watercress, man's bits and bacon baguettes.

An eclectic mix but proving it does all happen on the South coast.

However like any vintage classic this does mean I will require more regular oiling. Being across the news I am aware that a diet of excess oil is bad for you - however medical evidence seems to suggest that red wine should do the trick.

It's not all bad news ...

So here's the joke ...

Two weevils grew up in South Carolina. One went to Hollywood and became a famous actor.
The other stayed behind in the cotton field and never amounted to much. The second one,
naturally, became know as the Lesser of Two Weevils ....

Tuesday, 1 July 2008

Ireland beckons

I've never been to Ireland.

It's a bit lame, isn't it? I mean it's not like it's on the other side of the earth but there it is on my list of "places I've been meaning to visit but have yet to get round to". So come the weekend Dublin it is.

Granted it may not quite be the cultural experience you might be hoping for (stag do) but at least I'll get a taste of it and for once and for all put to bed the question "Does Guiness taste better in Ireland?" (It's a boy thing but once any of your mates go to Ireland for the next five years every time you go down the pub they'll bang on about how a pint of the black stuff doesn't taste as good as it did over there ... yawn - although saying that come the weekend I may too become an Ireland bore).

Played footie last night up in Romsey. Scored a solid header to get the ball rolling so to speak and then spent the rest of the game forcing myself to run the length of the pitch. Only problem was by the time I got up to the box I was to knackered to score and spent most of the evening missing the perfectly sized goal right in front on me.

As for TP - I'm not even talking to him. I ran the entire length of the pitch into space (quite a feat for a 37 year only whose mid life crisis is fast approaching - see timer) only for him to totally ignore my efforts and pass the ball to their keeper. Well I can only assume it was a pass to save his complete embarrassment. A shot it was not. Stevo's legs gave up (both of them) so he retreated to goal. Tommy gave a solid midfield performance with his trademark blockbuster tackles. Put it this way - he's never going to play basketball - but it's like being hit by a wall (in a nice - non yellow card way). Another fine performance from team BBC.

Not that I'm obsessed but long range forecasts are showing some good surf for the weekend.

You'll have to tell me all about it though as I'll be tasting Irish hospitality.

Will stick the joke on tomorrow - am at home and can't quite remember it without looking at the show's scripts (yes - I know - I do sound a shambles but they do give me scripts sometimes).

It involved a larger lady, a toilet seat and a doctor but I don't want to ruin it.

Laters potatas.

So here's the joke ...

A woman had been advised by her doctor to go on a strict diet but she couldn't discipline herself and would spend most of the day raiding the fridge. As her weight ballooned, one day she got stuck on the lavatory seat. " Jim, Jim!" she called to her husband. " The lavatory seat's stuck to my bottom. Fetch the doctor!"

The husband asked the doctor to come round as soon as he could but didn't explain what the problem was. In the meantime, the husband managed to remove the seat from the toilet bowl but it was still wedged fast to his wife's backside. He suggested she go and kneel on the bed until the doctor arrived.

When the doctor showed up, the husband showed him straight into the bedroom where his wife was kneeling with her back to the door. "What do you think, doc?" asked the husband ...

"I think it's nice," replied the doctor, "but why such a cheap frame?"