The Joke-O-Motive

I was at the Tim Vine show at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival last night. The Punmeister was on top form as usual although he did seem narked by someone in the audience who thought it smart to film him. Vine had a new array of gags which I won't repeat here (go and see his show before it ends this weekend!) but below is a selection of some of his material from previous gigs:

I had a dream last night that I was cutting carrots with the Grim Reaper . . . dicing with death!


Albinos - you can't say fairer than that.


I saw this bloke chatting up a cheetah and I thought: 'He's trying to pull a fast one.'


So I said to this train driver: 'I want to go to Paris.' He said: 'Eurostar?' I said: 'I've been on telly, but I'm no Dean Martin.'


Beware of Alphabet Grenades. If you throw them, it could spell disaster.


I was walking down the road the other day and I saw this advert in the window that said: 'Television for sale, £1, volume stuck on full.' I thought: 'I can't turn that down.'


A friend of mine always wanted to be run over by a steam train. When it happened, he was chuffed to bits!
Black Beauty - he's a dark horse.


I wanted to be a milkman - but I didn't have the bottle


I rang up my local swimming baths. I said: 'Is that the local swimming baths?' He said: 'It depends where you're calling from.'


So I said to the gym instructor: 'Can you teach me to do the splits?' He said: 'How flexible are you?' I said: 'I can't make Tuesdays.'


This bloke says to me: 'Can I come in your house and talk about your carpets?' I thought: 'That's all I need, a Je-hoover's witness.'

My next-door neighbour worships exhaust pipes - he's a catholic converter.


I've got a friend who's fallen in love with two school bags - he's bisatchel.


So I went down the local supermarket. I said: 'I want to make a complaint - this vinegar's got lumps in it.' He said: 'Those are pickled onions.'


I'll tell you what I love doing more than anything: trying to pack myself in a small suitcase. I can hardly contain myself.

I used go out with an anaesthetist - she was a local girl.


During the war, my grandfather could not stop scribbling. He got hit by a Doodlebug.


I've got a front door made from sponge. Don't knock it.


I've played football on a plane, you know . . . there I was, running up the wing!


I went to the butchers the other day and the butcher said: 'I bet you £5 you can't guess the weight of that meat on the top shelf.' 'I'm not gambling,' I said. 'The steaks are too high.'


I threw some snow at my girlfriend. She didn't catch my drift.


Did you hear Handel has teamed up with Hinge and Bracket? They've formed The Doors.


I was taking the motorway out of London. A policeman pulled me over and said: 'Put it back.'


So I went down my local icecream shop and said: 'I want to buy an icecream.' He said: 'Hundreds and thousands?' I said: 'We'll start with the one.'


When I left home, my mum said: 'Don't forget to write.' I thought: 'That's unlikely - it's a basic skill, isn't it?'


Velcro . . . what a ripoff.


I went to the record shop and I said: 'What have you got by The Doors?' He said: 'A bucket of sand and a fire blanket...'


You know, somebody actually complimented me on my driving today. They left a little note on the windscreen which said 'parking fine'. So that was nice.


I have spent the afternoon re-arranging the furniture in Dracula's house . . . I was doing a bit of Fang-Shui.


When it comes to cosmetic surgery, a lot of people turn their noses up.

It's an Education

My five year old grandson Jack started school today for the first time. It's the first of what will hopefully be many momentous days in his life. First day at primary school, first day at secondary school, leaving school, falling in love, leaving home, getting married, raising children...

Of course he may decide not to get married or raise children and he will make his own decisions as he grows older. Such is life. It only seems a short time ago I was taking a photograph of Jack's mother going to school for the first time in August 1991. Who knows what life has in store for the wee fella - what I do know is he won't go without love and guidance from his family. And, no doubt, cash from his Papa.

Actually, today was the second momentous day in young Jack's life thus far. Nine days ago I took him to Tynecastle Stadium in Edinburgh for his first ever Hearts game. Watching Hearts and going to school within a matter of days. At five years old, wee Jack is already finding out that life isn't always a bed of roses. As his pose above perhaps indicates...

The Sharing of Marriage

The old man placed an order for one hamburger, French fries and a drink. He unwrapped the plain hamburger and carefully cut it in half, placing one half in front of his wife. He then carefully counted out the French fries, dividing them into two piles and neatly placed one pile in front of his wife.

He took a sip of the drink, his wife took a sip and then set the cup down between them. As he began to eat his few bites of hamburger, the people around them were looking over and whispering.

Clearly, they were thinking, 'That poor old couple - all they can afford is one meal for the two of them.'

As the man began to eat his fries a young man came to the table and politely offered to buy another meal for the old couple. The old man said, they were just fine - they were used to sharing everything.

People closer to the table noticed the little old lady hadn't eaten a bite. She sat there watching her husband eat and occasionally taking turns sipping the drink. Again, the young man came over and begged them to let him buy another meal for them. This time the old woman said 'No, thank you, we are used to sharing everything.'

Finally, as the old man finished and was wiping his face neatly with the napkin, the young man again came over to the little old lady who had yet to eat a single bite of food and asked 'What is it you are waiting for?'

She answered...... (Continue below)






































 'THE TEETH.'

You're the Best Thing

Paul Weller in one of his more mellow moods.

Faith in Human Nature

Today was a difficult day for the Auld Reekie Ranter. Getting a telephone call at work to say a loved one had been rushed to hospital made an already difficult day quite horrendous. My dear old mother had collapsed in the street whilst out shopping and was hospital bound.

After a few hours being assessed in Edinburgh's Royal Infirmary she was allowed home - her blood pressure had fallen dramatically but hopefully a wee amendment to her medication should alleviate this (my mother is an ardent fan of Aberdeen Football Club and I should like to dispel the rumours that the shock of seeing The Dons sitting at the top of the league was too much for her...)

However, I would like to thank a very kind lady called Pauline who came to my mother's aid when she collapsed. Not only did she telephone for an ambulance she had the foresight to see if my mother had a contact number on her person - which, thankfully, she did. When I got the call at the office I immediately headed for the hospital where my mother received medical attention.

Pauline had left her number for my mother to call her later as she was concerned about her. I phoned Pauline earlier tonight and thanked her for her kindness and swift action which may well have saved my mother's life. In a world where we hear constant bad news and negativity, it restores my faith in human nature to know there are such kind, thoughtful and wonderful people around. People such as Pauline - who I can't thank enough.

Edinburgh

Last Saturday I took my five year old grandson Jack to watch the mighty Heart of Midlothian Football Club for the first time. I don't think he was overly impressed so by way of compensation, I took him up Edinburgh's Arthur's Seat the following day. It was a beautiful, sunny summer's day - perfect for letting the laddo see what a magnificent place Edinburgh is. I've mentioned elsewhere in my ramblings how much I love Scotland's capital and how proud I am to be part of it. On a day like Sunday no other city can compare...

Happy Birthday Hannah

My darling grand-daughter Hannah celebrated her third birthday today. Cue party time at my daughter Laura's house and Little Angel Eyes melting everyone's hearts. Naturally, I'm biased but Hannah is such a loveable wee soul whose unconditional love brings a lump to my throat. Or that might have been when she jumped on top of me from the top bunk of her bed...

Happy birthday, sweetheart. I hope you never lose your sweet charm and endearing affection.

First Reactions

How fast can you guess these words?


1. F_ _K


2. PU_S_


3. S_X


4. P_N_S


5. BOO_S


6. _ _NDOM


Answers below:











1. FORK


2. PULSE


3. SIX


4. PANTS


5. BOOKS


6. RANDOM






You got all 6 wrong....didn't you?

Snap! The Digital Age

We live in a digital age. An age where we demand immediate communication, where we are no longer prepared to wait for things to happen. This Tuesday is my grand-daughter Hannah's third birthday. I can scarcely believe three years have passed since the arrival of the little tyke who has made such a difference to my life. There will, of course, be a party at my daughter Laura's house and the whole family will be there to celebrate. Armed, as we will be, with cameras to record the occasion. Digital cameras, that is.

It's probably a sign of me hurtling towards fifty years of age but I miss the age of anticipation. By this, I mean years ago when things didn't happen immediately and we all had to show a trait that is fast becoming a rare commodity these days - patience. When Laura was three years old, back in 1989, we didn't have a digital camera. Our camera at that time used film. Yes, younger readers f-i-l-m. We had to make sure the complex settings on the contraption were adjusted accordingly. Automatic flash? Yer 'avin a larf. Laura's birthday is in May but when she was three we were living in Aberdeen where it's permanently gloomy so we had to ensure the light was on in the room. Not the present day, energy saving type so beloved of today's tree-hugging hippies. This was a 100 watt bulb that was powerful enough to distract in-coming aircraft from the nearby Aberdeen Airport.

Red-eye removal? Pah! Not only do most of the photographs of my family at the time give the impression they're extras from the film The Living Dead, but the red-eye also applied to the poor sod - usually me -taking the photographs after hours of trying to get the focus right.

Then there were the number of photographs one could take in a single 'spool' (there's another word that's fast disappearing from today's dictionary) No matter what the occasion was - holidays, family birthdays, weddings - the last photograph taken (usually number 24) was nearly always completely pointless. The back of my mother-in-law leaning against her broom (always her best side); the infamous Mrs Smith doing the ironing (admittedly a rarity in itself); or some half drunk family member covering their face pleading not to be 'snapped'. This last photograph was never usually given the precision - although I use that word lightly -  afforded to the others. It was always 'to use the last of the spool' Then it was disentangled from the contraption that was the camera, pushed in an envelope and handed into Boots the Chemist. You could get your snaps back within the hour if you were prepared to part with about half a week's wages so I usually left it a few days before going back to find a) half the photographs hadn't turned out, b) a quality assurance label stuck on any 'dodgy' pic or c) most of the photographs looking like they had been taken in a cave in spite of the fact you spent three hours trying to work out how to set the flash.

Things are different in today's world. We'll all be snapping away at Hannah's birthday on Tuesday but the difference now is that today's digital cameras come with automatic this and automatic that - all you have to do is point it in the right direction and press a button. Even if you do mess it up, you simply delete it and try again.

That's progress for you. But I still miss the anticipation of collecting my dark and out of focus photos from Boots...

Seven Kinds of Sex

          The infamous Mrs Smith and I haven't been without our problems

The 1st kind of sex is called ... Smurf Sex. This kind of sex happens when you first meet someone and you both have sex until you are blue in the face.

The 2nd kind of sex is called ... Kitchen Sex. This is when you have been with your partner for a short time and you are so needy you will have sex anywhere, even in the kitchen (clear away the toast crumbs first, though...)

The 3rd kind of sex is called ... Bedroom Sex. This is when you have been with your partner for a long time. Your sex has become routine and you usually have sex only in your bedroom.

The 4th kind of sex is called ... Hallway Sex. This is when you have been with your partner for too long. When you pass each other in the hallway you both say ... 'F**k You.'

The 5th kind of sex is called ... Religious Sex. Which means you get Nun in the morning, Nun in the afternoon and Nun at night. (don't you miss Les Dawson?)

The 6th kind is called ... Courtroom Sex. This is when you cannot stand your wife/husband any more. She/he takes you to court and screws you in front of everyone.

And last ... but not least ...

The 7th kind of sex is called ... Social Security Sex. You get a little each month. But not enough to enjoy yourself.

I wonder how many people will look at the title of this post and be very disappointed? Then again, that probably happens with most of my rants...

Doggone It

I know some of the readers of my ramblings are dog lovers so this story might be of some interest to them. One of my neighbours has lost her Chihuahua puppy and is desperate to find him. Yesterday, she was sitting on the couch watching television and realised he was gone. She called out to him and he never responded. She then noticed the back door was open. As this photo shows, she has been putting up signs everywhere in an effort to have him returned.

She's desperate for news...