23 August 2015

Good morning and welcome to the Moreton Pinkney Mercury or the Moreton Pinkney Periodical or the Poreton Minkney Mutterings or something similar – I’m still collating all the suggestions which flooded in after the last edition of the Befouled Weakly News but I have rejected, so far, those suggestions which were along the lines of “Get Lost Gossip” or “No More News, Please” or even “Just Make It Stop!” Continue reading “23 August 2015”

23 August 2015 – Amusements

A young Scottish lad and lassie were sitting on a low stone wall, holding hands, and just gazing out over the loch.

For several minutes they sat silently, then finally the girl looked at the boy and said, “A penny for your thoughts, Angus.”

“Well, uh, I was thinkin’ perhaps it’s aboot time for a wee kiss.”

The girl blushed, then leaned over and kissed him. Then he blushed. Then the two turned once again to gaze out over the loch.

After a while the girl spoke again. “Another penny for your thoughts, Angus.”

“Well, uh, I was thinkin’ perhaps its aboot time for a wee cuddle.”

The girl blushed, then leaned over and cuddled him. Then he blushed. Then the two turned once again to gaze out over the loch.

After a while the girl spoke again. “Another penny for your thoughts, Angus.”

“Well, uh, I was thinkin’ perhaps its aboot time you let me poot me hand on your leg.”

The girl blushed, then took his hand and put it on her leg. Then he blushed. Then the two turned once again to gaze out over the loch.

After a while the girl spoke again. “Another penny for your thoughts, Angus.”

The young man knit his brow. “Well, now,” he said, “my thoughts are a bit more serious this time.”

“Really?” said the girl in a whisper, filled with anticipation.

“Aye,” said the lad.

The girl looked away in shyness, began to blush and bit her lip in anticipation of the ultimate request.

Angus blurted out, “Din’na ye think it’s aboot time ye paid me the first three pennies?” Continue reading “23 August 2015 – Amusements”

9 August 2015

Congratulations! Many of you have plodded through eighteen years of the Befouled Weakly News. Many life sentences don’t last that long. However, the good news is that this is the last ever edition of the Weakly News you’ll ever be subjected to and even better news – there will be no publication of any description next week. We move house on Friday and, while I’ve no doubt that in itself will be an adventure worthy of inclusion in a publication, we shall have no telephone, television or broadband until some point in the following week. We are, apparently, moving to the back of beyond, a telecommunications back water. Continue reading “9 August 2015”

9 August 2015 – Amusements

A man goes to the doctors and asks why he’s been feeling ill. The doctor examines him and replies “I’m sorry to tell you, you’ve got the disease known as Yellow 24.”

“What’s that?” the man asks.

“It means your internal organs have started turning yellow – you’ve got 24 hours to live”.

The man goes home and tells his wife the bad news. His wife says “Well, will you come to bingo with me tonight then? Otherwise you’ll never be able to.” The man agrees so he and his wife go to the bingo. He finds that he’s won the one-line and £10. He begins to think this isn’t such a bad day after all. Twenty minutes later, he’s won the full house and £150. He enters the lucky draw, worth £500, and wins that too. The bingo caller calls him up on stage.

He says “I don’t believe it, mate. You’ve won three competitions and a total of £660 in one night. You must be the luckiest man on the earth!”

The man says “Well, no, I’m not. I’ve got Yellow 24.”

The bingo caller looks down at the piece of paper he’s holding and starts clapping. “I don’t believe it; he’s won the raffle as well!” Continue reading “9 August 2015 – Amusements”

2 August 2015 – Amusements

This came from brother Steph:

A guy was in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee when he received a text message.

“Joe, I’m sorry.  I’ve been riddled with guilt and I have to confess: I have been helping myself to your wife when you’re not around, probably more than you.  I know it’s no excuse, but I don’t get it at home.  I can’t live with the guilt any longer and I hope you’ll accept my sincerest apology.  It won’t happen again.”

Feeling outraged and betrayed, Joe grabs his gun, goes into the bedroom, and without a word, shoots his wife.

Moments later the guy gets a second text: “Really should use spell check!  That should have said   ‘wifi’.” Continue reading “2 August 2015 – Amusements”