Thursday, September 10, 2015

Great Hymns You love to Sing

The Jamaican and the Rolls-Royce.

This is a true story. It happened in the UK somewhere  in the 1960/1970s.

A Jamaican, on a low paid job, read an advertisement in a daily news-paper early in the morning, advertising a Roll-Royce for sale, going cheap. He promptly scraped the last ten pounds he had and went looking for the address. He walked into a mansion with a Rolls-Royce parked in the porch. He rang the bell. A Lady dressed well and speaking posh upper class English greeted him and asked him, whether he came looking for the Rolls-Royce of the advertisement. On being given an affirmative answer, she wanted to know  how much he could offer. He said ten pounds. She collected the ten pounds that he offered, handed him the keys and said there is your car, pointing to the stately Rolls-Royce parked in the porch. The flabbergasted Jamaican paused awhile. Then he asked the Lady, 'Madam why are you selling this fabulous  car at this price'. The Lady replied 'My husband should get the proceeds of the sale of this car, according to the proceedings of the divorce courts. You are welcome to take the car away, I hope you have a driving license'.
The amused Jamaican laughingly drove the  Rolls-Royce away.

Painting Her Portrait



 email from JKS Weerasekera

  Mrs. Johnson was the wife of a successful business owner, and he didn't 
 have much time for her.
On her birthday, however, he gave her a special 
 gift: to have her portrait painted by a famous artist.


When the artist arrived and set up for the sitting, she told him, "Paint 
me with diamond earrings, a diamond necklace, emerald bracelets and a
 
large ruby brooch."


"But madam," he said. "You are not wearing any of those things."


"I know," said Mrs. Johnson. "As I'm sure my husband told you, my health 
is not good and I don't have long to live. As I'm sure he didn't tell you,
 
my husband is having an affair with his secretary."


"Uh..." the painter stammers, unsure what to say.


"So when I die I'm sure he will marry her," she continues, "and I want the 
bitch to go nuts looking for all that jewelry."

THE CONFESSION



email from JKS Weerasekera

Hi Bob, This is Alan next door. I’m sorry buddy, but I have a confession to make to you. I've been riddled with guilt these past few months and have been trying to pluck up the courage to tell you to your face, but I am at least now telling in text as I can’t live with myself a moment longer without you knowing. The truth is I have been sharing your wife, day and night when you're not around. In fact, probably more than... you. I haven’t been getting it at home recently, but that's no excuse, I know. The temptation was just too much....I can no longer live with the guilt and I hope you will accept my sincerest apologies and forgive me. I promise that it won't happen again. Please come up with a fee for usage, and I'll pay you. Regards, Alan.

THE ACTIONS
Bob, feeling insulted and betrayed, grabbed his gun, and shot his neighbour dead. He returned home where he poured himself a stiff drink and sat down on the sofa. He took out his phone where he saw he has a subsequent message from his neighbour:-

THE SECOND MESSAGE
Hi Bob, This is Alan next door again. Sorry about the slight typo on my last text. I expect you worked it out anyway, but as I’m sure you noticed that my Autocorrect changed ‘Wi-Fi’ To ‘Wife’. Technology hey?!? Hope you saw the funny side of that. Regards, Alan