The Cheeky Friendly Banter Thread!

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It's actually a 999 call.

That's a flipping cracker Annie! :cool:

But please let me tell you a true story...

With the Holidays upon us, I would like to share a personal experience with my friends about drinking and driving. As you may know, some of us have been known to have brushes with the authorities from time to time on the way home after a "social session" out with friends. Well, two days ago I was out for an evening with friends and had several cocktails followed by some rather nice red wine. Feeling jolly I still had the sense to knowthat I may be slightly over thelimit. That's when I did something that I've never done before.
I took a cab home.

Sure enough on the way home there was a police road block, but since it was a cab they waved it past.
I arrived home safely without incident.
This was a real surprise as I had never driven a cab before.
I don't know where I got it,
and now that it's in my garage, I don't know what to do with it.
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Boozer, you are tooooo much! Show us a picture. :devil:

That would be incriminating evidence Nancy.
And I am saying nuthin' 'till I get a lawyer!

Instead, I will hand you over to this mate of mine...
Men's Consideration for Women


It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger.

When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are oversensitive, and there's nothing worse than an oversensitive woman.


My name is Jeff. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Susie.


Since I retired several years ago, it has become necessary for Susie to get a full-time job along with her part-time job, both for extra income and for the health insurance benefits that we needed.


Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf club about the same time she gets home from work..


Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her.


Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table.
I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club so eating out is costly and not reasonable and I'm ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door.


She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating.
But now it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that
they won't clean themselves.
I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.


Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour.


But, boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement.
I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days.
That way she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean).
I like to think tact is one of my strong points.


When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods.


She had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the lawn. I try not to make a scene.
I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while and, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too.


I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Susie.
I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy.
Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrated women get, as they get older.


However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing this was well worthwhile.


After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.


Sincerely,


Jeff



EDITOR'S NOTE


Jeff died suddenly on March 1 of a perforated rectum.
The police report says he was found with a Calloway extra long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club jammed up his rear end, with barely 5 inches of grip showing and a sledge hammer laying nearby.


His wife Susie was arrested and charged with murder.
The all-woman jury took only 15 minutes to find her Not Guilty, accepting her defence that Jeff somehow, without looking, accidentally sat down on his golf club.
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I saw it a couple of years ago, and while I'm not (really, truly) into poop humour, I took a liking to the demure young woman in the commercial, Bethany Woodruff, a Scot.

 
A young Texan grew up wanting to be a law man. He grew up big, 6' 2'', and strong as a longhorn and fast as a mustang. He could shoot a bottle cap tossed in the air at 40 paces. When he finally became of age he applied to where he had only dreamed of working: the West Texas Sherrif's Department.

After a big mess of tests and interviews the Chief Deputy finally called him into his office for the young man's last interview. The Chief Deputy says: "You're a big strong kid and you can really shoot. So far your qualifications all look good. But we have what you call an 'attitude suitability test' that you must take before you can be accepted. We just don't let anyone carry our badge son." Then, sliding a service pistol and a box of ammo across the desk, the Chief says, "Take this pistol and go out and shoot:

six politicians
six illegal aliens,
six lawyers,
six meth dealers,
six Muslim extremists,
and a rabbit."

"Why the rabbit?" asked the young Texan. "Great attitude son," says the Chief Deputy. "When can you start?"
 

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