On being a father

A man is standing in the queue at the supermarket when he notices a very dishy blonde behind him who has just raised her hand and smiled hello to him. He is rather taken aback that such a looker would be waving to him, and although familiar, he can't place where he might know her from, so he says, "Sorry, do you know me?"

The woman replies, "I maybe mistaken, but I thought you might be the father of one of my children!"

His mind shoots back to the one and only time he has been unfaithful.

"Christ!" he says, "Are you that strippergram on my stag night that I shagged on the snooker table in front of all my friends whilst your mate whipped me with some wet celery and stuck a cucumber up my bum?!"

"No," the woman replies, coldly, "I teach your son English."

I seem to be materially-minded

I was smiled upon today - at one of my favorite opshops, I found a Folio edition of Rumpole for five bucks. No slipcase, and no other similar books, but I'm not knocking back a Folio!

As it happened, I didn't have five dollars on me, so I had to sweat off the the shopping centre and get some money out, ten packets of Special-K and a couple of audio books from the library.

By the time I got back, the book was still there. Whew! I'm surprised it hadn't been spotted within moments of it hitting the shelf.

Probably worth (say) $25, but it's the thrill of finding a bargain that lights up my eyes.

The Special-K is for the competition. I'm pursuing an optimum course to get as many entries in as possible before they start drawing prizes. One prize a day for 50 days and all entries stay in the pool. Mind you, I've got dozens of packets of cereal to get through in the year before their shelf-life expires.

Audio books for the trip up to Sydney to see the A380 arrive on Sunday.

Pete succumbs to memeage - Rarsberry to blame

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