Rambling

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Lydia Lindeque, the pioneering South African actress and wife of Uys Krige
swore to her dying day that this story was true:****

Around the late 1940’s in a small rural Karoo town, in a town-hall made of
wood and iron, a travelling theatre company performed a play in Afrikaans. *
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The whole (white) town turned out. The mayor and the dominee, deacons and
dignitaries lined the front rows. The rest of the audience were all
coloured, restless and loud behind the pound seats; obviously new to the drama
on the stage. The melodrama proceeded…..A shot is fired. An actress
pitches over sideways into the hero’s arms.****

He turns, quivering, to the audience and implores, “En wat moet ek nou maak?”
Someone right at the back calls out, “Naai haar voor sy koud word!”****

The act is halted. The mayor confers with the dominee, addresses the
audience and unforthcoming culprit; behave, or no more play. The coloured
konstabel is sent to stroll up and down the central aisle, brandishing his
truncheon menacingly.****

The actors crank it up again. On stage a cup of tea is sipped. With pinkie
cocked, the hero muses, “Wat is darem lekkerder as ‘n koppie tee?” ****

The konstabel turns to the crowd, his truncheon prominent in his hand, “As
iemand *”poes”* sê, slat ek hom stukkend!”****

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*Burglary in Florida (You can’t make this stuff up!)
*
When southern Florida resident Nathan Radlich’s house was burglarized
recently, thieves ignored his wide screen plasma TV, his VCR, and even left
his Rolex watch. What they did take, however, was a white box filled with
a grayish-white powder. (That’s the way the police report described it.)

A spokesman for the Fort Lauderdale police said that it looked similar to
high grade cocaine and they’d probably thought they’d hit the big time.

Later, Nathan stood in front of numerous TV cameras and pleaded with the
burglars: ‘Please return the cremated remains of my sister, Gertrude. She
died three years ago.’

The next morning, the bullet-riddled corpse of a local drug dealer known as
Hoochie Pevens was found on Nathan’s doorstep. The white box was there too;
about half of Gertrude’s ashes remained.

Scotch taped to the box was this note which said: “Hoochie sold us the
bogus blow, so we wasted Hoochie. Sorry we snorted your sister. No hard
feelings. Have a nice day.”

No matter how hard you try, absolutely NO ONE can top this….

****

*When a male bird can’t stand it anymore!*

*Priceless shot!** **One in a million!!!
*[image: cid:C9D5AEA516F5442C9BE84F561DD30E2A@denzil]
*A photographer will die of old age waiting to get another shot like this
one.

Keep Laughing.

Best medicine for the heart and the mind.*****

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*FORE …….* ****

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One day during a game on the golf course I accidentally overturned my golf
cart.

[image: Description: cid:X.MA2.1359863955@aol.com]
Elizabeth, a very attractive and keen golfer who lives in a villa on the
golf course, heard the noise and called out,
“Are you okay?”

[image: Description: cid:X.MA3.1359863955@aol.com]

“I’m fine thanks,” I replied.
“My name’s Jack,” I said and introduced myself.
“Jack, forget your troubles. Come to my villa, rest a while, and I’ll help
you get the cart up later,” she suggested.
“That’s mighty nice of you,” I answered, “but I don’t think my wife would
like it.”
“Oh, come on,” Elizabeth insisted.
She was very pretty and very persuasive.
“Well okay,” I finally agreed, and added, “but my wife won’t like it.”
After a restorative brandy, she insisted that I remove my clothes so she
could give me a massage.
Afterwards, I thanked my hostess for the exhilarating session I had with
her.
“I feel a lot better now, but I know my wife is going to be really upset.”
“Don’t be silly!” Elizabeth replied with a smile, “She won’t know a thing.
Where is she, anyway?”

“Under the cart!” I said… ****

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