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Quickies part 2


red750

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Dreamt and dreamed are both past tense forms of  "to dream". Dreamt is more common in Britain, while dreamed is more common in other English-speaking countries, including the U.S. Dreamed seems to be more popular than dreamt when talking about sleeping, but when dream has a hopeful, literary sense, dreamt might be used.

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An Irishman's first drink with his son:


"While reading an article last night about fathers and the sons, memories came flooding back to the time I took me son out for his first pint.


"Off we went to our local pub only two blocks from the cottage.


"I got him a Guinness. He didn't like it, so I drank it.


"Then I got him a Kilkenny's, he didn't like that either, so I drank it. Finally, I thought he might like some Harp Lager?


"He didn't. I drank it.


"I thought maybe he'd like whisky better than beer so we tried a Jameson's; nope!


"In desperation, I had him try that rare Redbreast , Ireland 's finest whisky.


"He wouldn't even smell it.


"What could I do but drink it!


"By the time I realized he just didn't like to drink, I was so shit-faced I could hardly push his stroller back home!"

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He He He.. it does remind me af a girlfriend I had who was particularly naggy.. I once pointed the TV remote at her and clicked  at as I said somthing like, "I've just hit the off button".

 

Quite unbelievably, she went quiet.. but did not get angry.. We actually had a laugh...

 

 

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A cowboy, who just moved to Montana from Texas, walks into a bar and orders three mugs of Bud.
He sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn.
When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders three more.
The bartender approaches and tells the cowboy,
"You know, a mug goes flat after I draw it.
It would taste better if you bought one at a time."
The cowboy replies, "Well, you see, I have two brothers.
One is in Arizona, the other is in Colorado.
When we all left our home in Texas, we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the days when we drank together.
So I'm drinking one beer for each of my brothers and one for myself."
The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there.
The cowboy becomes a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same way.
He orders three mugs and drinks them in turn.
One day, he comes in and only orders two mugs.
All the regulars take notice and fall silent.
When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says, "I don't want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my
condolences on your loss."
The cowboy looks quite puzzled for a moment, then a light dawns in his eyes and he laughs.
"Oh, no, everybody's just fine," he explains.
"It's just that my wife and I joined the Baptist Church and I had to quit drinking."
“It hasn't affected my brothers though." 

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A wish to live forever

 

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, "that is the only wish that I'm not allowed to grant."

"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're a crafty little bastard," replied the fairy.
 

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Shingles

Those of us who spend much time in a doctor's office should appreciate this!


Doesn't it seem more and more that physicians are running their practices like an assembly line in Australia?
Here's what happened to Kevin: 

 

Kevin walked into a Doctor's office and the receptionist asked him what he had. Kevin said: 'Shingles.' So she wrote down his name, address, medical insurance number and told him to have a seat.
Fifteen minutes later a nurse's aide came out and asked Kevin what he had….
Kevin said, 'Shingles.' So she wrote down his height, weight, a complete medical history and told Kevin to wait in the examining room.


A half hour later a nurse came in and asked Kevin what he had. Kevin said, 'Shingles..' So the nurse gave Kevin a blood test, a blood pressure test, an electrocardiogram, and told Kevin to take off all his clothes and wait for the doctor.


An hour later the doctor came in and found Kevin sitting patiently in the nude and asked Kevin what he had.


Kevin said, 'Shingles.' The doctor asked, 'Where?'
Kevin said, 'Outside on the truck. Where do you want me to unload 'em??
 

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This was written by a cricketer's wife in fun - New Zealand's greatest all-rounder, the late Martin Crowe's wife, Lorraine Downes. Apparently, she had a great sense of humor and to be a wife of a cricketer, you must've an even bigger sense of humor and understanding. So here it goes.... 

 

 

Come all ye fair young maidens, 

harken unto me,

Never trust a cricketer,

whoever he may be.

 

Randier than a sailor

who's been six months at sea,

Never let a cricketer's hand

an inch above your knee. 

 

First let's take the paceman,

pure speed from first to last,

My darlings do be careful;

his balls are hard and fast.

 

Then there's the medium pacer,

his balls swing either way;

He's really most persistent

and can keep it up all day!

 

Watch out for the off-spinner girls, 

another awkward chap.

If you leave him half an opening

he will slip one through the gap!

 

Then there's the wily 'slowy',

pure cunning is his strength;

He'll tempt you, 

then he'll trap you with his very subtle length.

 

So ladies, do be careful,

your mothers would agree.

Never trust a cricketer,

whoever he may be.

 

And what about the opening bat, 

his struggles never cease!

He has only one ambition,

to spend all day at the crease.

 

The number three is a dasher,

he seldom prods and pokes.

When he goes into action,

he has a fine array of strokes..

 

And do beware the slogger,

not content with one or two;

When he arrives at the crease

then only six will do.

 

Then there's the real stonewaller.

Girls! he knows what he's about;

And if you let him settle in,

it's hard to get him out!

 

We come now to the last man,

I hope this will not shock,

He doesn't mind if he's last man in, 

as long as he gets a knock.

 

So, darlings, do be careful,

and be well warned by me:

Never trust a cricketer,

whoever he may be.

 

And watch the wicketkeeper.

Girls! he's full of flair and dash;

And if you raise your heel,

he'll whip them off in a flash.

 

If you take the field with the capt'n, 

you had better know the score; 

Or he'll have you in positions 

that you never knew before!

 

The cricket commentator

is a nasty sort of bloke,

He watches all the action

and describes it stroke by stroke.

 

Even the kindly umpire,

who looks as friendly as a pup.

You'll quickly find you've had it, 

when he puts his finger up!

 

So, darlings, please remember

and repeat it after me:

"NEVER TRUST A CRICKETER, WHOEVER HE MAY BE!!!!!"

 

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Donna arrived home from work early one day and found her husband, Glen, in bed with another woman.

“That’s it!” she shouted, “I’m leaving and I’m not coming back!” 

 

“Wait honey,” Glen pleaded, “Can’t you at least let me explain?” 

 

“Fine, let’s hear your story,” Donna replied. 

 

“Well, I was driving home when I saw this poor young lady sitting at the side of the road, barefoot, torn clothes, covered in mud and sobbing,” explained Glen. 

“I immediately took pity on her and asked if she would like to get cleaned up. She got into the car and I brought her home.

 

After she took a shower, I gave her a pair of the underwear that doesn’t fit you anymore, the dress that I bought you last year that you never wore, the pair of shoes you bought but never used and even

gave her some of the turkey you had in the refrigerator but didn’t serve to me.” 

 

“Then,” Glen continued, “I showed her to the door and she thanked me.

 

As she was walking down the step, she turned around and asked me, ‘Is there anything else your wife doesn’t use anymore?'”

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