JOTD

nah, brought a rye smile to my dial

 

Bob & Marion were a God fearing couple who got married young, and stayed married. Throughout their relationship, they enjoyed a healthy sex-life, of which they were proud. As they reached their twilight years, the couple made a deal; if it were at all possible, whoever died first would come back and inform the other if there is an after-life, and if there is, if you could still have sex after death. Their biggest fear of course, was
that there might be no after-life at all.

After a long life together, and following the statistical average, the husband was the first to die.


True to his word, he made the first contact: " Marion .... Marion ... "

"Is that you, Bob?"

"Yes, I've come back like we agreed."

"That's wonderful! What's it like?"

"Well, I get up in the morning, I have sex. I have breakfast and then it's off to the golf course. I have sex again, bathe in the warm sun and then have sex a couple of more times.. Then I have lunch (you'd be proud - lots of greens). Another romp around the golf course, then pretty much have sex the rest of the afternoon. After supper, it's back to the golf course again. Then it's more sex until late at night.
I catch some much needed sleep and then the next day it starts all over again".

"Oh, Bob! Are you in Heaven?"

"No - I'm a rabbit somewhere near Mildura."

 

www.afr.com
The joke is a lack of any story on gold pushing all time highs or silver breaking out of 8 year range. Maybe it's just me, but that is pretty major financial news.

I have been trying to catch the finance segments on the TV news, from what i've seen they haven't even mentioned the gold price like they usually do.

 

Paddy, who was on holiday from Ireland on Bondi Beach Australia, couldn’t seem to make it with any of the girls so he asked the local lifeguard for some advice.

“Mate, it’s obvious,” says the lifeguard. “You’re wearing them old baggy swimming trunks that make ya look like an old geezer.

They’re years outta style. You’re best bet is to grab yourself a pair of Speedos about two sizes too small and drop a fist-sized potato down inside ‘em. I’m tellin’ ya, mate, you’ll have all the babes ya want!”

The following weekend, Paddy hits the beach with his spanking new tight Speedos and his fist-sized potato.

Everybody on the beach was disgusted as he walked by, covering their faces, turning away, and laughing, looking sick.

So Paddy went back to the lifeguard and asked him, “What’s wrong now?”

“Bloody Hell,” said the lifeguard. “Maaaaate. The potato goes in the front!”