Typing my memoirs

 

I have joined an on-line keep fit class. You link to this website and you see other people in their homes and also the "instructor". He does the exercises and you copy him. We can all see each other through our laptop cameras.

Before we started I bent, twisted, gyrated, jumped up and down, trying to put my leotard on. Then I heard the whole class applauding. They told me I was very entertaining. I did not know the camera was switched on!!!

You should have seen the comments I received by text and e-mails from my "audience". The ladies in particular were the most embarrassing. Perhaps I should not have borrowed my wife's leotard and exercised in T shirt and jeans instead. 

 

When she saw me in her leotard she was livid. She said I looked like a flamingo standing in that pose in her pink bodysuit. So I put my foot down; which was a little difficult in that hugging outfit which left little to the imagination.

She gets all upset at my attempts to keep fit. The previous day I had swapped our bed for a trampoline and she hit the roof.

I usually have a good night's sleep. On some mornings I wake up grumpy ... on others I let her sleep and go down for breakfast. I usually bring her tea in my pyjamas. Is she grateful? No ... she says she prefers it in a cup.

This morning I discovered our new puppy had eaten all the Scrabble tiles and left little messages around the house.

We like to go out  for a meal at least once a week. We used to go to our favourite Italian restaurant in town. We've stopped now because their cook has pasta away!

There's a new restaurant in town called Karma. They have no menus. You get what you deserve!

Anyway, today I put some corn flakes in a bowl and watched the news on TV. They said that a midget fortune-teller had escaped from a prison van. The headline was, "Small medium at large". This happened when the prison van had collided with a lorry full of mixed concrete. The police are looking for some hardened criminals.

In another crime related story, it was reported that a hole had been found in the local nudist-camp wall. The police are looking into it. They then entered the premises and interviewed a number of people airing their differences. The police believed that the members were withholding evidence, but the nudists insisted they had nothing to hide.

Our local papers are reporting that a driver was stopped by the police for ignoring a red light. The driver started swearing aggressively and calling the policeman all sorts of names. The policeman explained the offence and gave the driver a ticket. The driver asked, "What's this AH in the corner of the ticket?"

"Oh ... it's to remind me that you're an a... hole!" said the policeman.

In Court the driver hired a clever lawyer who asked the policeman, "Is this your writing on this ticket?"

The policeman confirmed that it is. So the lawyer tried to trap him by asking, "What does AH mean?"

"It means aggressive and hostile," replied the policeman.

"Are you sure it does not mean a... hole?" asked the lawyer.

"You probably know your client better than I do," said the policeman calmly.

Another story in the papers is about a man who had pick-pocketed a dwarf. How could he stoop so low?

A friend of mine divorced after 25 years of marriage because his wife is violent and  keeps throwing things at him when angry: plates, cups, saucers, whatever is at hand she throws.

The judge asked him, "What took you so long to decide on divorce?"

He replied, "Her aim is getting better!"

There was an Automobile Rescue van parked outside our house yesterday. You know those rescue vans that come out to help you when your car won't go? The driver was sobbing uncontrollably and looked very miserable. I thought to myself, "that guy’s heading for a breakdown".

At this point the door bell rang. It was our friend Mavis, she was distraught and sobbing bitterly. I can't handle women crying. I mean ... what are you supposed to do? Is it OK these days to hug crying women to comfort them? What if they misunderstand your hug for something else?

I tried to cheer her up by telling her about our problems. I told her that the other day my wife asked me to pass her her lipstick; but I accidentally passed her a glue stick instead. She still isn't talking to me.

Mavis cried some more. I poured her a cup of tea and asked her what's wrong. Apparently, she had put on her most revealing negligent and asked her husband, "What do you like most about me, my pretty face or my sexy body?" He looked her up and down and replied, "I like your sense of humour!"   

You might like my other humourous memoirs in my book:

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