| It was a sunny Saturday morning, and a a male golfer was beginning his pre-shot routine, visualising his stroke when a voice came over the clubhouse loudspeaker: “Would the man on the associates’ tee back up to the men's tee, please!’’
The man remained deep in his routine, seemingly unaware of the announcement.
Again the public address boomed: “Would the MAN on the WOMEN’S tee kindly back up to the men’s tee!’’
The golfer showed he had heard. He broke his stance, lowered his driver to the ground and shouted toward the clubhouse: “Would the announcer in the clubhouse please remain quite and let me play my second shot?’’
WETHERILL PARK, N.S.W. A yuppie decided to take a holiday, rented a yacht and sailed out to sea. Bad weather came up, the yacht sank and the yuppie got to a deserted island.
For some months he sat around eating bananas and coconuts.
One day a young woman rowed up in a well-crafted boat and told him she had been living on the other side of the island. The liner she was travelling on sank in the same storm.
The yuppie commented she was lucky that such a good boat was washed up as well.
“Oh no,’’ replied the woman. “I made this boat. I noticed an unusual strata of rock. I built a kiln and found when I fired up the rock to a certain temperature it melted into a forgeable ductile iron. I made numerous tools that way.’’
The yuppie was speechless. The woman suggested that they go to her place on the other side of the island.
They came to a wharf, a path of crushed seashells, a neat garden and a bungalow painted in blue and white.
“Not much,’’ said the woman, “but I call it home.’’
When she offered the yuppie a drink he said he was tired of coconut milk.
“Well, you can have a pina colada if you like. I have made a still,’’ came the reply.
The yuppie was asked if he would like to shave and shower and on entering the bathroom found hand-made soaps and a razor fashioned from bones and honed shells.
Later when he returned to the lounge he saw the woman reclining on a sofa wearing strategically-placed vines, shells and flowers. She was smelling faintly of gardenias.
Beckoning him to be seated, the woman said: “You have been here a few months like me. I am sure you are wanting to do something you have been thinking about all those lonely nights.’’
The yuppie could not believe what he was seeing and hearing. Suddenly he blurted out: “You mean I can check my emails from here?’’
COBRAM, VIC. Working people frequently ask retired people what they do to make their days interesting. Here’s what we have to look forward to.
“I went to the store the other day. I was only in there for about five minutes. When I came out there was a traffic warden writing a parking ticket.
“I went up to him and said, ‘Come on mate, how about giving a senior a break?’ He ignored me and continued writing the ticket.
“I called him a bad name. He glared at me and began writing another ticket for having worn tyres.
“So I called him another bad name. He finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first. Then he began writing a third ticket. This went on for about 20 minutes. The more I abused him, the more tickets he wrote.
“I didn’t give a toss. My car was parked around the corner. I try to have a little fun each day. It’s important at my age.’’
CONTRIBUTED, N.S.W. With all the sadness and trauma in the world at the moment, it is worth reflecting on the death of an important person which almost went unnoticed recently.
Larry La Prise, the man who wrote The Hokey Pokey, died peacefully aged 93.
The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin. The attendants put his left leg in and then the trouble began . . .
Parramatta City, N.S.W. |
