No way Jose

Hans, a middle-aged German tourist on his first visit to Orlando, Florida, finds the red light district and enters a large brothel. The madam asks him to be seated and sends over a young lady to entertain him.

They sit and talk, frolic a little, giggle a bit, drink a bit, and she sits on his lap. He whispers in her ear and she gasps and runs away! Seeing this, the madam sends over a more experienced lady to entertain the gentleman.

They sit and talk, frolic a little, giggle a bit, drink a bit, and she sits on his lap. He whispers in her ear, and she too screams, "No!" and walks quickly away.

The madam is surprised that this ordinary looking man has asked for something so outrageous that her two girls will have nothing to do with him. She decides that only her most experienced lady, Lola, will do. Lola has never said no, and it's not likely anything would surprise her. So the madam sends her over to Hans. They sit and talk, frolic a little, giggle a bit, drink a bit, and she sits on his lap. He whispers in her ear and she screams, "NO WAY, BUDDY!" and smacks him as hard as she can and leaves.

Madam is by now absolutely intrigued, having seen nothing like this in all her years of operating a brothel. She hasn't done the bedroom work herself for a long time, but she's sure she has said yes to everything a man could possibly ask for. She just has to find out what this man wants that has made her girls so angry. Besides she sees a chance to teach her employees a lesson.

So she goes over to Hans and says that she's the best in the house and is available. She sits and talks with him. They frolic, giggle, drink and then she sits in his lap.

Hans leans forwards and whispers in her ear, "Can I pay in Euros?"

The Wetherby Whaler

I thought we'd leave it late for lunch at the Wetherby Whaler just in case they were busy. Trouble is, so did everybody else. We had to queue. Queue for a bloody fish and chip resto.
Having said that the people in the queue behind us had driven over from Hull. Hull! That's about an hours drive and they live on the coast. There's a helluva lot more fish over there than in deepest Yorkshire. 'Surely there's a decent fish shop in Hull?' I said.
'Nah, the next nearest decent one is York' (and that's a Wetherby Whaler as well).
We were visiting with my son James, and his family and James, who is a foody and avowed pescatarian, pronounced the fish and chips as outstanding.
So there you have it. If you want decent fish and chips and you live within an hours drive of Wetherby then you know where to go.
Make sure you ask for well done chips.
See what you get here, a free restaurant guide and gastro tips.

It just makes sense

I was in the car with my mother and I was moaning about two punctures that I'd had over Christmas and the problems of getting them fixed. The first was a nail in a tyre and the second a faulty valve in another tyre.
After a slight pause she said, "It's the garages."
"What do you mean?" I said.
"Garages drive around throwing nails in the street to get business," she said.
I had to really concentrate to keep the car on the road.
It's never boring with my mum around.

Trip advisor

This comment was left by one of our recent visitors. She is a bright, eight years old girl.


"I was a little homesick in your house and at home my own bed is more comfortable.
Love Maisie xxx"


I smile every time I look at it and it has pride of place on our fridge.

Is that it?

It's 11.00 pm on Christmas night and I'm stone cold sober, on my own, having just dropped my mother back home. The roads are empty and every light seems to be set at green. Time for a little quiet reflection.
An annual recurring thought popped into my head.
Is that it?
We had a houseful of folks with not an inch to spare (with more coming on Boxing Day to stay) with weeks of planning and hours of preparation, Jan was very tired and more than a little frazzled, but that was it. It was all over.
Twenty four hours of festivities all over in the blink of an eye. I know that it makes me sound like a grumpy old man (nothing new there then - Ed) but is it really worth all the fuss, all the hype?

A poorly boy

Poor old Max. For over a month now he has had a nasty cyst on his foot that was very angry, swollen and from which he would lose blood. We had been trying, for about a month, to treat it with antibiotics to no avail but we bit the bullet yesterday and had a surgical procedure to cut it out.
It was even worse than anyone had thought and he is now stitched and bandaged and hobbling about. Frankly the vets are unsure of the cause and have prepared us for further problems.
At least it now means he spends Christmas at home instead of in kennels. Bless.

OK, what's the answer

It's been a long time since either of us has been on a 'works outing' but that's just changed, and we're not just talking about a coach trip to Blackpool either.
Despite being 'very part-time', we were very kindly invited to dinner at the excellent Malt Shovel in Brearton by the proprietor of the kennels we hardly work at.
Not only was there an excellent dinner but it also happened to be pub quiz night and carols, accompanied by a small brass band (what else, it is Yorkshire after all), around the huge Christmas tree outside.
Now, Jan and I being a little competitive, are rather partial to a pub quiz, which, when you add back all the half points deducted by a miserly quiz master, we won. Well, OK, our table won. Jan's good for literature (books and that), cooking and knitting and I'm good for sport, science and life's deeper problems and we're both useless at, as it's politely known, popular culture (ie bloody Eastenders and modern music).
So if your team needs 'beefing up' in the intellectual department give us a call. Our rates are very modest (unlike you - Ed).

One of life's mysteries

When I was young, much younger, you would, from time to time, see a man with one leg shorter than the other. I'm not sure why but it was always a man, never a woman, probably just one of those little burdens that us men had to bear. The poor man would clump around with a grotesquely thick soled shoe to compensate for his shorter leg.
I haven't seen anything like that for many years until recently.
Tell me it's some kind of joke that women, who admittedly missed out the first time round, think it's somehow fashionable to wear the same kind of footwear now.
These modern shoes are stupid and it's impossible to walk in them without either lifting your foot completely off the ground and walking like an elephant or allowing your heel to leave the shoe.
Come on ladies, wake up. They make you look stupid!

A mystery solved

At long last we know who ate all the pies.

My favourite Christmas song

Shane McGowan - dentally challenged dope head or creative genius. Discuss.

Don't shoot the messenger

It's a romantic full moon, when Pedro said, "Hey, mamacita, let's do Weeweechu."
Oh no, not now, let's look at the moon!" said Rosita.

Oh, c'mon baby, let's you and I do Weeweechu. I love you and it's the perfect time,"

Pedro begged.

"But I wanna just hold your hand and watch the moon." replied Rosita.
Please, corazoncito, just once, do Weeweechu with me." 

 

Rosita looked at Pedro and said, "OK, one time, we'll do Weeweechu."

 

 

 

 

Pedro grabbed his guitar and they both sang.....
"Weeweechu a Merry Christmas, Weeweechu a Merry Christmas,

Weeweechu a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year."

The road to hell

I'm beginning to really dislike motorway driving in the south of England. During one of our recent trips we were driving north along the M23 towards the M25.
A warning sign said 'M25, Long Delays between Junction 3 and Junction 29'. WTF, that's virtually the whole length of the motorway, with long delays.
Now I'm not always convinced that the warning signs are very accurate but I was in no mood to take a chance so we took the next exit off the M23 and headed cross country.
The cross country roads were trouble free and we finished the journey without problem. Thank god for sat navs is all I can say.
On the way back home the other day we saw warning signs stating that the A1 was totally closed near Peterborough. As I marginally prefer the A1 to the M1 we had to change our route quickly. I remembered that I'd seen a route north leaving the M1 at Junction 21a and taking the A46 to rejoin the A1 at Newark, higher up, so that's what we did.
What a good route. Apart from some road works which will soon be finished, very fast.

Festive cheer

Guess which pub we were in last Wednesday?

Something a little different

Thanks to Will for this.

A modern dilemma

With Leeds in the running for its own TV station will the first words be, "Ay oop luv, here's t'news?"

Wot, no wind

Today's Saturday so after a quick trip to Petersfield, it must be Brighton.
We're at my son James' house to see my granddaughter Clara. What a little treasure.
I don't normally 'do' babies but she is such pretty happy child who (very surprisingly - Ed) seems pleased to see me. Despite not having seen her for several months she was immediately comfortable and (very surprisingly - Ed) smiley.
So that's a bonus.

East Sussex

Were down in Eastbourne at the start of a seasonal week-long trip to see the grand-kids.
Eastbourne because that's where my good friend and old tennis coaching partner Rob lives. I don't know this part of the world and haven't seen Rob for several years so a visit was in order.
My view of Eastbourne was 'old folks' and wheelchairs but how wrong I was. Apart from being attractive, this is a thriving town, full of life.
After a good curry the night before, we took a trip into the countryside and amongst others visited Beachy Head. You'd be right to think that that's a bit ghoulish given that it's a favourite spot for suicides but I was interested to see the area.
The downside of the visit was the wind. It was blowing a gale. The wind was so strong that we were unable to walk more than a few meters from the car. I've never experienced anything like it.
What was very interesting was to see 'rangers' patrolling the area ready to talk to any would be jumpers. Having said that the wind was so strong you couldn't possible have launched yourself off.
Later we visited the very pretty village of Alfriston and enjoyed a drink in front of a log fire in the very excellent Deans Place. Bugger the wind outside, this was the life. Much better. Highly recommended.

Vot, no sense of der humour

Have you ever noticed what that fashion icon Angela Merkel wears? It's like she bought a job lot of stuff from Primark and rotates them. It's always the same, a coloured jacket that is cut like every other one but in a different colour and teamed with dark pants. Today her jacket looked dark, either dark blue or black.
I can't wait until tomorrow. I particularly look forward to the pastel colours.
Who says the Germans don't have a sense of humour?

Fancy a giggle?

This made me laugh.

Get it sorted

Why does everybody, well not absolutely everybody, get so enthused about bloody Pandas? The people that shipped them half way round the world should be crated up and have the same done to them.
What is it with crowds standing by the side of the road waving flags at two huge lorries as the pandas get delivered to a zoo? Has our 'celebrity' obsessed culture sunk so low that we wave flags at lorries now? This article pretty much summed it up for me. What I'd like them to do is maul their keeper then eat him (with a bit of bamboo on the side) and hopefully change their appeal forever.
And, whilst I'm at it, can you think of anything more stupid then letting 'Brussels' exercise any control over euro-zone budgets? This is the organisation that has never had its own accounts signed off by its auditors. It's a corrupt shambles, patently incapable of running its own affairs. What is everyone thinking of, well OK, not every, everyone?
Let me at 'em.

A sweet gift

Jan has just bought me a Jehovah's Witness advent calendar.
Every time I open a door a little voice tells me to fuck off.
Cute.