What’s the best part in a boxing joke? The punchline.

A man is on his death bed. He asks his wife…

“Will you re-marry after I die?”
“Oh, I don’t know…” she says. “Maybe.”

“Will you let another man move into our house with you?”
“Oh, I don’t know… Maybe.”

“Will you let another man drive my car?”
“Oh, I don’t know… Maybe.”

“Well, will you have sex with another man at some point?”
“Oh, I don’t know… Maybe.”

“Will you let another man use my golf clubs!?”
“Nah. He’s left-handed.”

 

How about a wee bonus?   Sure….

 

Swimming pool

I was at a pool once, and the life guard yelled over to me, “HEY KID! QUIT PEEING IN THE POOL!”
I replied “Oh come on man. Everyone pees in the pool!”
“Yes, but not from the high dive!”

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I left my chicken feed out in the rain and it turned into porridge overnight. Could I be accused of gruelty to animals?

Last summer I met with a botanist friend of mine…

Last summer I met with a botanist friend of mine who was keen to show me his private collection of rare tree and plant species. I wasn’t particularly interested but I went along anyway because he was really excited to show me the newest addition to his collection.

“It’s a unique species of oak tree, with only a few still alive in the world today.”

He told me. Apparently you have to keep them indoors because in the 1800s some botanist called Edward Nooj discovered that their inability to cope with harsh weather conditions could lead to their extinction.

My friend kept his in an enclosed chamber with special UV lamps and imported soil.

“Surely they must have be able to grow out in the weather if they lived for hundreds of years before this Nooj guy came along” I said to him

To which he replied, “Well yes I’m sure that back then they flourished, but these days there’s certainly no Nooj Oaks under the sun.”

How Much Chocolate is Too Much

When someone near to me came home from London, he brought me something that I appreciated very much.

I just did not know how much?

I mean… this is apparently a “Thing” in Britain.

By which I mean “Supersized” chocolate bars.

I am laughing at the display on my room organizer right now.  This is … ridiculous.

But it is a “thing” there, and the reality is that there is the concept of a reasonable amount of any given food to eat.

Really, this is huge!  The sheer size of it has me laughing.

Way up at the top of the picture is a “standard” single serving Hershey’s Chocolate bar.  It’s not my favorite chocolate by a long shot, but here in the land of Big Food and Cheap Food, it’s what we think of as a single serving.

Granted, it is 220 calories which is a bit large for some of my more petite friends to have in one sitting.  I have a friend who is 1/2 my size and weight, and that 1.55 ounce, or 43 gram serving is what should be about all she should have of candy or dessert all day.

My being twice that size I’m maintaining weight with twice that amount per day.  I lose a pound all week, gain it back on the weekend, and I have since High School.  It’s in balance.  My doctor had no complaints about my weight or my fitness level at all.

Rule of thumb is calories are to be balanced from 30% Fat, 30% Carb, 40% Protein.

Training Diets are 1 gram protein per pound of weight.  Lower Fat and Carbs as needed.  Good luck with that.

Nutrition guidelines aside… that little bar is a “single serving”.

Now, since what we get here in Los Estados Unidos with the name Cadbury doesn’t taste right to me, I have a standing order with anyone going to England to bring back Cadbury Chocolates.

It used to be that Cadbury was made by Hershey by license.  It also does not taste right to me, nor the same.

 

Close, but not quite.  Kit Kats are the same too for me.  I could be wrong.

 

Could be the water, or that the chocolate is different.  I don’t know.  When I have a Cadbury branded chocolate here I don’t think it tastes “right” to me.  My opinion.  I’d just rather get Cadbury imported from Old Blighty than walk down the block to the rather excellent candy store and get a bar there.

Maybe I should.  Just not today.

 

That and my licorice allsorts.  Bassetts.  They’re stale if I get them locally, but amazing if bought at the airport at Gatwick just before you leave.

 

Please Exit the UK via the Gift Shop.  Don’t forget your Licorice and your ridiculously large chocolate bars!

So I am getting enough from other sources.

Then there’s that bar of Cadbury Fruit and Nut in the middle.   It is 300 grams.  10.58 ounces.

And don’t get me on Your Country Should Go Metric.  We did, it’s just we have a translation layer there so it makes things easier for us.  All our units of measurements are defined as a multiple of Grams or Liters or what have you.

 

Maybe you shouldn’t have a license plate for a candy bar.

Anyway, at 495 calories per 100 grams, the whole bar is 1485 calories.  At 212 calories per serving it serves 7.

Seven.  And that is the middle sized bar.

When I first saw that bar I thought it was insanely sized.  Why?  Because I know people who would attempt to eat the whole thing in one sitting.

Don’t do that.  Nearly a day’s budget of calories for a tall woman in one bar of chocolate is insane.  Just Don’t Do it.

Well, at least that’s the math if I can read the British Nutrition Label.   They suggest a more reasonable serving size of a little more than an ounce.

While people in Britain are smaller than in some parts of the US – Buddy, you folks are catching up.

But that fruit and nut bar that I truly enjoyed massively was a shock when I saw it.  Ok, “Gift Sized” was what I called it.

What about that plank of Dairy Milk in the box.  On the bottom of the picture.

Come on Cadbury, you’re kidding me!  800 Grams?

Yes, I know, Portion Control.  I’ve been doing portion control for so long that I can estimate calories in my head – and do.

800 Grams.  28.22 Ounces.

When I saw it I asked “What the hell is that thing, is it really chocolate?”

Yep!  I am laughing at the massive bounty of chocolate that that is.

Real good chocolate too.  The way a Cadbury Chocolate Bar should taste.

And yes, I will enjoy it, completely.  Every last gram.  But I will “Do The Math”.

For 100 grams, it is 530 calories.

For the whole bar that is an amazing 4240 Calories.

Serving size according to Cadbury is a measly 25 grams or 132 calories.

So a giant 800 gram bar serves 32?

I’m laughing at that.

No wonder why the NHS is moving to disallow hospitals to sell these on premises.  I would say that the heft and size of the thing, it could be used as a weapon.

So I guess the whole supersizing thing that we went through here, they did in Britain, differently.

Good luck folks, I’m still laughing at the bar being so bloody large!

At least I have until December 2018 to finish all this stuff!

I’ll go with a roughly 200 calorie serving and enjoy each bit.  By the time I finish all this stuff, this “table leveler” block of chocolate, someone else will be going back to England and coming back with a ludicrously large bar of chocolate again.

It will be appreciated.

 

Six Chunks at a time.  I just want to watch the world burn and have a wee bit more.

Girl are you a turtle? Because your hot as shell!

A man’s wife asks him to go to the store to buy some cigarettes.

So he walks down to the nearby store only to find that it’s closed. He goes into a nearby bar to use the vending machine. While at the bar he sees a beautiful woman and starts talking to her. They have a couple of beers together, and then one thing leads to another and they end up in her apartment.

After they’ve had their fun, he realizes that its 3AM and says, “Oh no, its so late, my wife’s going to kill me. Have you got any talcum powder?” She gives him some talcum powder, which he proceeds to rub on his hands and then he leaves. When he arrives home, his wife is waiting for him and she is pretty pissed.

“Where the hell have you been?!” she asks. “Well, honey, it’s like this. I went to the store like you asked, but they were closed. So I went to the bar to use the vending machine. I saw this great looking chick there and we had a few drinks and one thing led to another and I ended up in bed with her.” “Oh yeah? Let me see your hands!”

She sees his hands are covered with powder and… “You liar!! You went bowling again!!”

A Story Of Two Jokes In One

I had a couple short jokes so I’ll just throw them together.

Three construction workers are sitting around a site in break after a couple days’ rain. To pass the time they each bet they can throw a brick the highest. They decide whoever gets their brick to sink the farthest into a deep mud puddle will win. So the first guy rears back, throws his brick, and it sinks 6 inches into the mud. The second guy takes aim, throws his brick up, and it sinks a full foot into the mud. Then the third guy takes his shot, throws his brick up… and it doesn’t come down.

The second joke is thus: A woman decides she wants to visit her mother in the hospital after a recent surgery. She decides she will take her pet parrot too, since her mother loves seeing him. Unfortunately, her mother lives several states away and the only viable travel option is on a no pets, no smoking flight the next day (this is, of course, before no smoking on any flight). So she decides she will smuggle her parrot in under a jacket.

So the next day, the woman packs her bag, dons a jacket and takes her parrot to the airport. Once there, she gives the parrot a treat and hides him in her jacket. Once the plane takes off, the captain comes out into the cabin to speak with the passengers. In his mouth is the biggest cigar anyone in this flight has ever seen. As he reaches the woman, he asks her how she is enjoying the flight. “Just fine,” she responds. “Well great, we should be there in time, so please enjoy the flight.”

As he is just about to walk away, the pilot hears Arw, Polly want a cracker. “What was that?” the pilot asks. “Oh, nothing!” ARW, POLLY WANT A CRACKER! “You have a parrot!” The pilot exclaims. “Well you have a cigar!” The woman responds, equally enraged.

The captain reaches over, opens the woman’s jacket, and pulls out the parrot. “You’re not allowed to have a parrot on this plane,” the pilot says. The woman snatches the cigar out of the pilot’s mouth and retorts, “Well you’re not allowed to have a cigar on this plane!”

At this point, the pilot has had enough, so he opens a window and throws the parrot out the window. Furious, the woman throws the pilot’s cigar out the window before he has a chance to close it. As the pilot storms back to the cockpit, the lady sits down fuming over the loss of her beloved pet parrot.

After the pilot has had a chance to calm down, and has put the entire event from his mind, he hears a tapping, tap tap tap, at his window. He looks over and what should he see but the parrot. And it has something in its beak.

Now you might think the parrot grabbed the pilot’s cigar, but no. In its beak is…

The brick.

Ginger Blossom and Frog

Travel.  Broaden Your Horizons.

Bring a camera.

All that.

I don’t actually get into the Jeep often.  15 year old car with only 46,000 miles on it.  So when I do go for a drive, there has to be a reason, and I almost always really enjoy it.  It’s a fun vehicle to drive, and I’ll get there.  You may not, but I will.

The occasion was that I got to visit one of my favorite people, my godmother Kathie.  She’s a prime example of love makes a family.  The godparent tradition came from our childhood, and we both have found different spiritual paths.  But we stayed in touch via her moves to Florida, my much later move, and many years.

Plus she’s great company.

I got a message in my email asking if I wanted to come up and enjoy a lunch in the restaurant.  Sure! Great! When?

When became a rainy trip up.  We’ve had a lot of random smallish rain storms.  Fun.  I’ve got the right car for it.  30 inch rubber donuts, no lifts, it’s a Jeep not a Mudder.  My theory is that 10 mpg is no fun, and while the car is rated 15, I drive gently and get 18 city, 22 Highway.

Not a Prius.  But I don’t fit in a Prius.

After watching people do stupid things on the back roads, and one clown spin out, I got there.

We chatted, I added her printer to her Mac, and we went out to look at the Preserve.  Hurricane Irma took out a few trees, including a Honeybell Orange that I will miss.  But she did point out the Ginger plant.  We’ve got one too that I just planted, so I was interested to see it in bloom.

You know that motto, Always Bring A Camera?

She lifted a fallen leaf to show me the blooms and right there, sitting on the flower was this wee little Frog.

“I need a Picture of that!”

“For Ramblingmoose.com?”
“Of Course!”

So there it is.  We still don’t know if that is an Ornamental or Culinary Ginger, but it is a pretty thing.  The flowers merely smell Floral instead of smelling like a Gingerbread.  That may be what I will get out back by the shed.

The ginger, not the frogs.   Frogs are welcome too.

I saw an elephant crossing the road. I named him a Chicken

Joanne Worley would appreciate that … “WAS THAT A CHICKEN JOKE?”
The woman never said anything quietly!

As for this joke… I can tell it, I’m part Irish.

Who Wants to be a Millionaire!

Mick, from Dublin, appeared on ‘Who Wants To Be A Millionaire’ and towards the end of the program had already won 500,000 euros.

“You’ve done very well so far,” said Chris Tarrant, the show’s presenter, “but for a million euros you’ve only got one life-line left, phone a friend. Everything is riding on this question. Will you go for it?”

“Sure,” said Mick. “I’ll have a go!”

“Which of the following birds does NOT build its own nest?

a) Sparrow b) Thrush c) Magpie d) Cuckoo

“I haven’t got a clue.” said Mick, ”So I’ll use my last lifeline and phone my friend Paddy back home in Dublin…”

Mick called up his mate, told him the circumstances and repeated the question to him.

“Mick!” cried Paddy, “Dat’s simple it’s a cuckoo.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Mick hung up the phone and told Chris, “I’ll go with cuckoo as my answer.”

“Is that your final answer?” asked Chris.

“Dat it is.”

There was a long, long pause and then the presenter screamed, “Cuckoo is the correct answer! Mick, you’ve won one million euros!”

The next night, Mick invited Paddy to their local pub to buy him a drink.

“Tell me, Paddy? How in Heaven’s name did you know it was da Cuckoo that doesn’t build its own nest?”

“Because he lives in a clock!”