Friday, 31 July 2009

A Joke To Exercise the Chuckle Muscles.

One awoke this morning and the weather was glorious! Señor Sol was definitely showering Crusty Hall with rays of his warmth and one felt alive!

Chu Me had clearly been up much earlier and as I sat up to watch my gorgeous little poppet Colin his-twinkle-makes-y'-tingle Briggs appear on my 28 incher with his regional update, one could see my faithful houseboy out of the window - by the stables - fussing over his hens and stroking his proud cock.

After Chu Me brought breakfast to my bed chamber, I suggested it would be a wonderful idea to take the Aston for a spin into the village and have a lunchtime snifter at the Badger's Snatch. Now, I do not want my readers to think Crusty is in the habit of frequenting drinking establishments; the Badger's Snatch is a public house steeped in history and is therefore acceptable to be seen there. It has a charm that has been unchanged for many years. Furthermore, since the new owners have taken charge - Fanny and Willy O'Dour - it's popularity has increased significantly and it has now replaced the village hall as the central meeting point for our delightful little community (much to the annoyance of the vicar).

Anyhoo ... around 11.45am Chu Me and I were speeding down the drive on our way to our lunchtime venue. On arrival, Chu Me naturally went to the counter to order our drinks while one sashayed elegantly through to the beer garden detras. It was here that one got quite a start when one saw a Rash; it was Ivor.

The Rash triples (Ida, Ivor and Hedda) run the village charity shop and are forever doing good throughout our community. Ivor Rash has a wicked sense of humour and one always looks forward to him recounting one of his marvellous jokes. Today was no different.

As we joined his two sisters in a shady corner of the beer garden, we popped open the bottle of ice cold Pere Ventura Brut Cava that Chu Me had brought (Fanny always keeps a case on hand for my visits) and awaited Ivor's little gem:

A man who just died is delivered to a local mortuary wearing an expensive, expertly tailored black suit.

The rather unintelligent mortician asks the deceased's wife how she would like the body dressed. She points out that the man does look good in the black suit he is already wearing.

The widow, however, says that she always thought her husband looked his best in blue, and that she wants him in a blue suit. She gives the mortician a blank cheque and says, "I don't care what it costs, but please have my husband in a blue suit for the viewing."

The woman returns the next day for the wake. To her delight, she finds her husband dressed in a gorgeous blue suit with a subtle chalk stripe; the suit fits him perfectly.

She says to the mortician, "Whatever this cost, I'm very satisfied. You did an excellent job and I' m very grateful. How much did you spend?" To her astonishment, the mortician presents her with the blank cheque

"There's no charge,"she says.
"No, really, I must compensate you for the cost of that exquisite blue suit!'"she says.

"Honestly, madam' the mortician says, 'it cost nothing. You see, a deceased gentleman of about your husband's size was brought in shortly after you left yesterday, and he was wearing an attractive blue suit. I asked his wife if she minded him going to his grave wearing a black suit instead, and she said it made no difference as long as he looked nice…so I just switched the heads."

Well! One thought this was knicker-wetingly funny and just had to share it with my poppets.

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