Fun

 

Another Oldie……

A young jackaroo from outback Queensland goes off to university, but halfway through the semester he has squandered all of his money. He calls home.

‘Dad,’ he says, ‘you won’t believe what modern education is developing…they actually have a program here in Brisbane that will teach our dog Ol’ Blue how to talk.’
‘That’s amazing!’ his Dad says. ‘How do I get Ol’ Blue in that program?’
‘Just send him down here with $2,000,’ the young jackaroo says, ‘I’ll get him in the course.’
So his father sends the dog and $2,000.
About two-thirds through the semester, the money again runs out. The boy calls home.
‘So how’s Ol’ Blue doing, son?’ his father wants to know.
‘Awesome! Dad, he’s talking up a storm… But you just won’t believe this. They’ve had such good results with talking, they’ve begun to teach the animals how to read.’
‘Read?’ exclaims his father. ‘No kidding! How do we get Ol’ Blue in that program?’
‘Just send $4,500. I’ll get him in the class.’
The money promptly arrives. But our hero has a problem. At the end of the year, his father will find out the dog can neither talk nor read.
So he shoots the dog. When he arrives home at the end of the year, his father is all excited.
‘Where’s Ol’ Blue? I just can’t wait to talk with him, and see him read something!’

‘Dad’, the boy says, ‘I have some grim news.

Yesterday morning, just before we left to drive home, Ol’ Blue was in the living room, kicked back in the recliner, reading the Wall Street Journal.

Then he suddenly turned to me and asked, “So, is your daddy still bonking that little redhead barmaid at the pub?”
The father groans and whispers, ‘I hope you shot that bastard before he talks to your Mother!’
‘I sure did, Dad!’
‘That’s my boy!’
The kid went on to be a successful lawyer with Slater and Gordon.

The Bowlers’ own language – how to translate

 The Sport of Bowls has its very own language which can totally mystify anyone who hears it, but hasn’t had the pleasure of throwing a bowl in fun or earnest.  For the information of the uninitiated, here are a few terms translated into standard English.

  • “Good weight!” = lousy line

  • “Good line” = lousy weight

  • “Good back bowl” = you were lucky you didn’t put it in the ditch

  • “That’s in their way” = that’s in my way

  • “That could be useful up there” = that bowl is closer to you than it is to the jack

  • “Get it next time” = you sure didn’t get it this time

  • “He’s surprisingly good” = you’re surprised he ever makes a shot

  • “I’d bowl with him any day” = he always buys the first round

KITTY AND JACK

My husband took up bowling
and he bragged upon the phone
about some dame called Kitty
whom he couldn’t leave alone

He played with Kitty
he stayed with Kitty
he picked her up without a hitch
He missed Kitty
he kissed Kitty
he even laid beside her in the ditch

So I took up bowling
to win my hubby back
and found that what he could do with Kitty,
I could do with Jack

 

The “Bay” Pennants Boards

They beat their breasts and cried out loud,
As they faced the western wall,
Where the selectors had placed the team selections
On the notice board was their call.

There were some that swore and some that cried,
And some who stood and muttered
Some were proud, some were coy,
And others merely stuttered.

There were voices raised in anger,
Shrill screams split the air,
There were those who didn’t say a thing,
Because they really didn’t care.

“I wont play with him”, one said,
“He’s a bloody hopeless skip.”
And one who very quietly said,
“It’s time I took my trip.”

There were many self selections,
There were lots of “bloody hells!”
There weren’t very many
who said the Selectors had done well.

The players knew who should be there,
They knew who to pick,
Just ask them when you hear them say,
“That selector is a $$##@!.”

Each year the tears get deeper,
As on the floor they fall,
From those who stand in anguish
Before the wailing wall.