Joe Stead – The Ramblings of an old Codger – Volume 136 – January 2012

Welcome to two thousand and twelve!

When I was a teenager way back in the nineteen fifties I could not conceive of life in the twenty first century. I wondered whether I would still be alive in the year two thousand and what would I be doing. I would be fifty nine when the century turned around. I had stopped talking to girls when I was eleven. Askes Grammar School in New Cross was an all boy affair; there was an Askes Grammar School for girls down the bottom of the hill; and I would gaze longingly at one or two of them on the bus. But that was as far as it got. I could hardly put two words together at the best of times and talking to girls, although I very much wanted to, was a mountain I was yet to climb in the years to come. So I took myself in hand and satisfied myself with pictures of Brigitte Bardot who was obviously a virgin. I think I was in love with her. There were two girls who got on my bus every morning when I went to school; one I really, really fancied and one I really, really didn’t and I never did quite work out why it was, when I suddenly found my tongue, that I ended up naked on the sofa with the one I really, really didn’t fancy at all. But I suppose that is the way the cookie crumbles. The one I really, really did fancy had married a Greek and was running a restaurant with her new found family somewhere in Sidcup. I suspected she had got married far too early in life; she couldn’t have been much more than seventeen; but I quickly got over it whilst snogging her naked friend, whom I still didn’t fancy in the slightest. Strange what you do sometimes isn’t it? I know I never went back and I doubt too if I was missed; but I have to wonder if the one I really, really didn’t fancy actually fancied me quite a bit; well at least until she found herself naked on the sofa with me. I’m sure I was a dreadful disappointment to her.

Another lady I really, really fancied for a while many years later was the East German ice skater Katarina Witt. Katarina Witt (pronounced ‘Vit’) was a remarkable ice skating champion with numerous Olympic and World titles to her credit. It was rumoured she had an insatiable sexual appetite and being exceedingly good looking had little problem finding suitors. As a consequence I seriously considered taking up ice skating as a means of meeting her. But I realised quite quickly upon donning my first and only pair of ice skates that whilst my brain-hand co-ordination made me the only folk singer who could sing in 4/4 time whilst playing the banjo in 7/19 time (Martin Simpson has also perfected this technique but it took him years of practice; I’ve always done it quite naturally) my brain-mouth co-ordination left a lot to be desired, and my brain probably didn’t (being 6 feet 4 and a bit inches tall) communicate with my feet at all, (my prowess as a rugby player proved this beyond argument) so if I did ever meet her my chances of communication, considering she was east German, made any long term association somewhat limited. Anyway long term associations with Katarina were highly unlikely because it was rumoured she had as many as three hundred different lovers each year which puts the term ’triple jump’ into completely new perspective. She posed naked for Playboy magazine in December 1998; but as I only found that out last week I’ve still not seen the photographs. Apparently it was the only Playboy edition (apart from the Marilyn Monroe edition) to sell out completely.

Now most of what I’ve already told you in this last paragraph is well known; what is not known by many is that she had a brother called Quick who was apparently as bad at ice skating as I was. It is rumoured he also took up the banjo for a while but, being East German, found that singing songs like ‘I was born in East Virginia’ was frowned upon by the communist authorities. So he started a very successful car repair business which now has branches right across Great Britain and Europe. Amazing huh?

But Katarina had good taste. In 1994, when past her very, very best she danced to Pete Seeger’s tune “Where have all the flowers gone?”
to see her at her best watch

So here I am staring down the face of seventy one which with good luck I will reach in June. So much in the world has changed. Flat colour televisions the size of cinema screens, little portable machines you carry in your pocket with which you can communicate to somebody the other side of the world without searching with four pence in your pocket for a telephone box, cameras with zoom lens that take pictures you can destroy at the press of a button if you don’t like them, and Asian restaurants on every street corner. I have children and grandchildren now and it’s them I’m most concerned about. The polar ice caps are both melting at an alarming rate and our climates the world over are changing with them. There are too many humans on this planet now, yet we reproduce more frequently and live longer than ever before. The dinosaurs lived for over 50 million years; human kind has seen but a few thousand and I fear for our children’s future. As I near seventy one I’m moving from autumn into winter; I just hope the winter won’t be too harsh on me; and I hope too it won’t be too harsh on my grandchildren who are inheriting the mess we leave behind.

Of course we’ve managed to fall out with our neighbours the French yet again. Rod Liddle of the Sunday Times says he’s not usually the kind of person who would stand at his window howling with laughter as the bailiffs came to repossess his neighbours house, no matter how fervently he disliked them. It’s not apparently a terribly British thing to do, after all, to laugh at the misfortunes of others. In fact it’s a German thing to do, really – schadenfreude. No matter how arrogant and indolent his neighbours are, or petulant and aggressive, or unmindful of the basics of personal hygiene and with breath that could stun a stoat at 30 paces, one wouldn’t, Rod reckons, normally leap up and down for joy as the bailiffs hammered at the door. But we can make an exception when the neighbours are Mr and Mrs French. Mr French in his fatuous beret wandering home from his un-taxing 35 hour week, Mrs French, who at the age of 56 is dolled up like a teenage Essex slapper out on the pull, the two of them communicating via that absurd agglomeration of histrionic tics and shrugs which constitute the French language…. Rod thinks when it’s them we should be allowed to bellow with glee and crack open the Italian bubbly.

At the moment the French are hopping up and down with that unique combination of paranoia, self delusion and spite which passes for international diplomacy. The news that their bereft economy is threatened with a downgrade by a credit agency has provoked them to indulge in their second favourite pastime, that of being rude about Britain. Their favourite pastime, since you ask, is putting things up their bottoms: the French use more suppositories than the rest of Europe put together – a remarkable fact that Freud would have appreciated. A self-obsessed, solipsistic country, perpetually constipated. The fact that they are heading towards the financial knackers yard has given them the opportunity to spend a quiet night indulging themselves, probably in both pastimes. And all the while they are probably already in recession (that’s according to their own statistics), have bigger government debt than us and are tied to that most ludicrous of all French fancies, the euro. The credit agencies don’t trust them to stick to their deficit reduction plans, any more than you or I would trust them to return the sheers or not try to have sex with our daughters.

Fixture List for Kimber’s Men and Joe Stead

Jan 11th (KM) The Works, Sowerby Bridge with Martin Carthy
Jan 13th (KM) Sixmilebridge Folk Festival, County Clare, Ireland.
Jan 14th (KM) Sixmilebridge Folk Festival, County Clare, Ireland.
Jan 15th (KM) Sixmilebridge Folk Festival, County Clare, Ireland.
Feb 4th (KM) Square Chapel Theatre, Halifax.
Feb 7th (Joe) Brighouse Third Age Forum, Waring Green Centre, Brighouse. Robeson.
Feb 8th (KM) The Works, Sowerby Bridge with Michael Chapman
Feb 11th (KM) The Rose Youth Theatre, Ormskirk, Lancashire.
Mar 3rd (KM) Recording new compact disc at Foel Studios
Mar 4th (KM) Recording new compact disc at Foel Studios
Mar 10th (KM) Oxenhope Primary School.
Mar 14th (KM) The Works, Sowerby Bridge with Chris Woods
Mar 17th (KM) Recording new compact disc at Foel Studios
Mar 18th (KM) Recording new compact disc at Foel Studios
Apr 11th (KM) The Works, Sowerby Bridge – Sam Carter
Apr 20th (KM) Clee St Margaret Village Hall, Near Ludlow, Shropshire.
Apr 21st (KM) Perranporth Shanty Fest 2012 - Cornwall
Apr 22nd (KM) Perranporth Shanty Fest 2012 – Cornwall
May 4th (KM) Sheepscombe Village Hall, Gloucestershire.
May 5th (KM) Minstead Village Hall, Hampshire.
May 9th (KM) The Works, Sowerby Bridge
May 19th (KM) Deal Royal Marine’s Association.
Jun 22nd (KM) Teignmouth Folk Festival, Devon.
Jun 23rd (KM) Teignmouth Folk Festival, Devon.
Jun 24th (KM) Teignmouth Folk Festival, Devon.
Jul 21st (KM) Music on the Marr, Town Foot Farm, Castle Carrock, Cumbria.
Jul 27th (KM) Port Isaac with Fishermen’s Friends – To be confirmed
Jul 28th (KM) The King Harry Ferry – St Mawes-Truro-Falmouth
Aug 4th (KM) Arbroath Sea Festival
Aug 5th (KM) Arbroath Sea Festival
Aug 17th (KM) Fano Festival of the Sea – Denmark.
Aug 18th (KM) Fano Festival of the Sea – Denmark.
Aug 19th (KM) Fano Festival of the Sea – Denmark.

Sep 6th (KM) Swanage Folk Festival
Sep 7th (KM) Swanage Folk Festival
Sep 8th (KM) Swanage Folk Festival

What a great audience!


Johnny Silvo
Johnny (Woods) Silvo will surely be remembered by everyone who came across him during his many years of entertaining and bringing smiles to peoples faces. He will be remembered for his big personality and even bigger voice, both of which touched people wherever he went. Raised in a Dr Barnado’s Home Johnny never knew his parents. He always believed his father had been in the American forces. When a little older he attended Barnado’s Goldings School in Hertford where he eventually became ‘school captain’.

He had a voice you could never forget, a fine guitarist who interspersed his songs with light hearted humour and chat. His wide musical interests were reflected in his repertoire which extended from jazz to blues to folk to country to soul. His rendition of Blueberry Hill was my personal favourite. In his early days, after he left National Service, he played in skiffle groups and jazz bands performing with such luminaries as Monty Sunshine, Dick Charlesworth and Bruce Turner. Then as the folk revival gathered steam in the early 1960’s he switched over to the folk clubs as a solo performer. Picked up by the BBC he was frequently featured on Playschool along with Dave and Toni Arthur.

I don’t remember when I first met Johnny. I know I booked him for about £8 to perform at The Old Askean Rugby Club in Kidbrooke London one Friday night in the 1960’s before I had started on my own professional career – so that would put it at about 1962 or 63. But I must have met him before that to have booked him in the first place. By this time Johnny had represented Hertfordshire as a rugby player himself. He played on the wing, and this mutual love of rugby brought us closer together in those very early days. Later in the 1980’s, and I have to confess I’ve lost the exact date, Johnny recorded for my Sweet Folk and Country label live in concert at Cold Ash Folk Club near Newbury. His rendition of Blueberry Hill on this recording must be his ultimate; a guy in the front row literally leapt out of his seat when Johnny hit the crescendo notes half way through the song. To enjoy Johnny singing Blueberry Hill on You Tube see….
Like all legends – he will be missed.

Len Berry
Len Berry passed away on Christmas morning at the age of 82. Len and his wife Barbara lived in Chirk having moved from their home in Kirklinton, Oxfordshire some years ago. They recorded the songs of Oxfordshire as collected by Alfred Williams – In Greenwood Shades - on my Greenwich Village label when they were working professionally under the name of The Portway Peddlers. Among others Barbara had put the music to the words of the poem "I Wandered by a Brookside". The song was later recorded by both Fairport Convention and the late Eva Cassidy among others and brought a well deserved accolade to the Berry's, albeit late in life. They were still active on the local folk scene until about 5 years ago.


Hi Joe,
Nice story of Helga and her alcoholic customers. You should have gone on to say that we're all complicit in gorging on credit in Helga's bar. Too many of us have become to believe in money for old rope and what we have to look forward to is the return to some old Micawber values. God save Angela!!!!
And yes the men who groom young girls should be behind bars together with the advertisers and retailers (of whom very few are Muslim) who have been responsible for the sexualisation of children as young as six. Put that in your next blog?
Your gig list is impressive which reminds me that Kimber’s should do another appearance at Rhosygilwen. It would make sense when you're down in the south.
Glen Peters

Hiya Joe
How are you?
Yesterday was my birthday, so I called in to see some friends for a drink. Sooty (all his friends call him that) introduced me to a English Rockerbilly trio (sorry I did not retain the names). Not that I am into that type of music. I thought it only fair that I introduced him to a different type of music. We searched youtube on the fantastic invention of the telly Sooty and Sharon have (friends of mine) we enjoyed going through some of your music.
So, do not lose heart about the radio stations, the Kimber's Men are on youtube.
I hear one of the new British radio stations has refused to play Cliff, he is not 'upbeat enough'.. Can you believe it? The country is going nuts.
I trust all is well with you as we head towards the silly season.
Your Kiwi Cus,
Jane Wallace – New Zealand.

Hi Joe,
I pretty much joined facebook involuntarily. A friend sent me an email solicitation. I figured I'd not dis him and signed up and didn't do anything for a long time. Then, I started getting friend requests from other people I knew (like Robert Jones who used to help book the Newport folk festival) in the folk world. So I posted a profile picture and filled out the profile information. I figured that since Susan and I had started February Sky, I would also pretty much just post general music information.
My advice, for what it's worth (and I won't be offended if you don't take it), is post some stuff about what you're up to once in awhile. Don't over do it. You can send out event invitations to everyone on your friends list. However don't abuse that privilege, either. I get invites to things happening thousands of miles away, that I'll never get to. So, I don't do that. Don't play any of the facebook games like farmville or mafia wars. You often have to register somewhere for those, so that's some other company paying FB for your info. I don't do anything I have to sign up for. I know a lot of folks use it to keep in touch with their families. I have quite a few friends that I've never met. I will accept a friend request from anyone who's profile pic has them playing a guitar, fiddle or banjo. There's a couple of weird people I've unfriended. I also have gotten in touch with some people I had not seen in years. Anyway, always great to get your Rambling's messages.
Phil Cooper USA.

Hello Joe
With the greatest respect I'm afraid to say you are gonna have to do some more dabbling where Facebook is concerned.
There was quite a campaign organised thro' Facebook concerning Mick Peat's BBC Radio Derby Folkwaves programme. We as individuals wrote in in support of keeping it because it was also available anywhere in the world online as well as providing the kind of information and service that you flag up in your recent letter to BBC Radio Leeds.
The MU Folk Section wrote in a formal capacity too and much else went on to try and save it. I'm the current Chair of the FRTM Section of the might have known that already. But there wasn't a chance and neither will there be one for your chosen programme or any of the others that might still be operating cos the decision has been made right at the top already. I think that lassy from down Shrewsbury way is in the same position....again lots of info'/interest about it thro' Facebook group connections.
Far from being defeatist on this it will take a lot more than a few folkies like us to change the mind of the BBC on their current national evening broadcasting policy. It doesn't mean that we shouldn't try...goodness knows we have been at it already and you too....but it's one of those lost causes operating at grass roots level when they simply will not respond to the arguments like yours that we've already used...that speak of action and support in local communties, this time for the preservation of a broadcast service flagging folk customs and music.
I'd send you the reply I got back from the BBC Radio Derby contoller but then it was the same reply as everyone who wrote got....and so you will likely get the same one too...because it represents the national policy position and they are just trotting out that line of response. One could argue that with Cameron's Big Society the loss of these genre specific programmes supplying info' at local level and supporting the running and advertising of local outlets for artistic expression and community development and support they are demanding action one way...people traditionally did folk broadcasting free as a hobby or labour of love so that is pretty well supporting the Big Society ethic......but the state funded broadcasting company wants nowt to do with that or indeed other similar music shows that attach directly to community participation without any serious connection to commerciality.
What the BBC are up to is providing an extension of the bland daytime playlisting in the middle of the evening to support a breaking news and sports service just like everyone else. That's what it's come down to with 24 hour news...everyone needs to be on the same bandwaggon and competing on the same level playing field that leaving the broadcasting schedule relatively incluttered is when not trying to incorporate a load of different kinds of programmes presented by lots of different clued-up and enthusiastc presenters who don't give a fuck about the lastest football scores but would desperately like the audience to hear a track by Mississippi John Hurt cos isn't that just the bees knees and doesn't it stretch the imagination just that bit more than yet another bleedin'
football match!
So I bet your local folk prog' is down the Swannee River already...but it doesn't mean we have to stop complaining or campagning. I do believe that Cameron and his Tory Twats leave the way open with this Big Society thing. You can't be expounding charitable or voluntary community action on one hand and then not providing the local BBC radio...on the other hand. Folk music and what it represents and the way it organises itself is probably the best example of musical events in both towns and villages. When they put a programme on tv like the one about the choirs last night with everything good it represented about singing in the community we can hold up alongside that music making and singing together in folk clubs for 50 years.
The thing gives a fuck about the requirements of disparate groups and you might say that folk has had a pretty good run on radio over the years when you understand what the usual commercial market share of folk music was.....around 4.7% up to 10 years ago....and PRS hardly ever identified much in the way of use of our typical repertoire.
I was responsible in part for getting the Clubs and Small Gigs Scheme with PRS up-and-running 6 years ago and with a bit of general resurgance in the commercial market things are much better with more identifiable folk around now than in the 80s/90s. This has gone hand-in-glove unfortunately with the demise of good clubs booking pro' artistes regularly...there's about 200 left nationally that you would say could support a professional performer rosta. All this again being discussed on Facebook. OK festivals have been doing well but this recession of ours has hardly got started and god knows how they will eventually be affected in the coming years.
Oh btw..loved Eric Cowell's Dummies Guide and the stuff on urine testing too. Eric is something else is he not.
Anyway enough from me for now. I don't always see eye to eye with you on what you write...but that you do it remains the important issue.
Best now
Eddie Walker.

I have shared your information about the BBC shrinking folk programs with allied groups I am associated with. The same is happening here in the US. In fact, today is the 2nd anniversary of WGBH in Boston eliminating folk and blues programs altogether.
Stay strong!
Jeff Boudreau


Murphy, a furniture dealer from Dublin, decided to expand the line of furniture in his store, so he decided to go to Paris to see what he could find.
After arriving in Paris, he visited with some manufacturers and selected a line that he thought would sell well back home. To celebrate the new acquisition, he decided to visit a small bistro and have a glass of wine.
As he sat enjoying his wine, he noticed that the small place was quite crowded, and that the other chair at his table was the only vacant seat in the house.
Before long, a very beautiful young Parisian girl came to his table, asked him something in French (which Murphy could not understand), so he motioned to the vacant chair and invited her to sit down.
He tried to speak to her in English, but she did not speak his language. After a couple of minutes of trying to communicate with her, he took a napkin and drew a picture of a wine glass and showed it to her. She nodded, so he ordered a glass of wine for her.
After sitting together at the table for a while, he took another napkin, and drew a picture of a plate with food on it, and she nodded. They left the bistro and found a quiet cafe that featured a small group playing romantic music.
They ordered dinner, after which he took another napkin and drew a picture of a couple dancing. She nodded, and they got up to dance. They danced until the cafe closed and the band was packing up.
Back at their table, the young lady took a napkin and drew a picture of a four-poster bed. To this day, Murphy has no idea how she figured out he was in the furniture business.

These are genuine American country song titles.
25 Best Country Songs Titles of All Time?

These are all genuine songs, mainly released in the United States (how surprising).

Get Your Tongue Outta My Mouth Cause I'm Kissing You Goodbye!
I Don't Know whether To Kill Myself or Go Bowling
If I Can't Be Number One In Your Life, Then Number Two On You
I Sold A Car To A Guy Who Stole My Girl, But It Don't Run - So we're even
Mamma Get A Hammer (There's A Fly On Papa's Head)
If The Phone Don't Ring, You'll Know It's Me
She's Actin' Single and I'm Drinkin' Doubles
How Can I Miss You If You Won't Go Away?
I Keep Forgettin' I Forgot About You
I Liked You Better Before I Knew You So Well
I Still Miss You, Baby, But My Aim's Getting' Better
I Wouldn't Take Her To A Dog Fight, Cause I'm Afraid She'd Win
I'll Marry You Tomorrow, But Let's Honeymoon Tonight
I'm So Miserable Without You; It's like Having You Here
I've Got Tears In My Ears From Lyin' On My Back And Cryin' Over You
If I Had Shot You When I Wanted To, I'd Be Out By Now
My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink, And I Don't Love You
My Wife Ran Off With My Best Friend, And I Sure Do Miss Him
Please Bypass This Heart
She Got The Ring And I Got The Finger
You Done Tore Out My Heart And Stomped That Sucker Flat
You're The Reason Our Kids Are So Ugly
Her Teeth Was Stained, But Her Heart Was Pure
She's Lookin' Better After Every Beer
I Haven't Gone To Bed With Ugly Women, But I've Sure Woke Up With a Few

After getting all of Pope Benedict's luggage loaded into the limo, (and he doesn't travel light), the driver notices the Pope is still standing on the curb.
'Excuse me, Your Holiness,' says the driver, 'Would you please take your seat so we can leave?'
'Well, to tell you the truth,' says the Pope, 'they never let me drive at the Vatican . When I was a cardinal I always drove - and I'd really like to drive today.'
'I'm sorry, Your Holiness, but I cannot let you do that. I'd lose my job! What if something should happen?' protests the driver, wishing he'd never gone to work that morning.
'Who's going to tell?' says the Pope with a smile.
Reluctantly, the driver gets in the back as the Pope climbs in behind the wheel. The driver quickly regrets his decision when, after exiting the airport, the Pontiff floors it, accelerating the limo to 100mph.
'Please slow down, Your Holiness!' pleads the worried driver, but the Pope keeps the pedal down until they hear sirens.
'Oh, dear God, I'm going to lose my license -- and my job!' moans the driver.
The Pope pulls over and rolls down the window as the cop approaches.
But the cop takes one look at him, goes back to his motorcycle, and gets on the radio.
'I need to talk to the Chief,' he says to the officer.
The Chief gets on the radio and the cop tells him that he's stopped a limo going 100mph.
'So book him,' says the Chief.
'I don't think we want to do that, he's really important,' said the cop.
The Chief exclaimed,' All the more reason!'
'No, I mean really important,' said the cop with a bit of persistence.
The Chief then asked, 'Who do you have there, the mayor?'
Cop: 'Bigger.'
Chief: ' An MP?'
Cop: 'Bigger.'
Chief: 'The Prime Minister?'
Cop: 'Bigger.'
'Well,' said the Chief, 'who is it?'
Cop: 'I think it's God!'
The Chief is even more puzzled and curious.
'What makes you think it's GOD?’
Cop: 'His chauffeur is the Pope!'

A small zoo in Newcastle acquired a very rare species of gorilla. Within a few weeks the gorilla, a female, became very difficult to handle. Upon examination, the veterinarian determined the problem. The gorilla was in season. To make matters worse, there was no male gorilla available. Thinking about their problem, the Zoo Keeper thought of Geordie Elliott, a local lad & part-time worker responsible for cleaning the animal cages. Geordie, like many Newcastle men, felt he had ample ability to satisfy any female. The Zoo Keeper thought they might have a solution. Geordie was approached with a proposition. Would he be willing to mate with the gorilla for £500? Geordie showed some interest, but said he would have to think the matter over carefully. The following day, he announced that he would accept their offer, but only under four conditions:
1. "First", Geordie said, "Nee kissin’ on the lips." The Keeper quickly agreed to this condition.
2. "Second", he said, "Ye cannit nivva tell neebody aboot this." The Keeper again readily agreed to this condition.
3.. "Third", Geordie said, "Ah want all the bairns raised as Newcastle fans." Once again it was agreed.
4. "And last of all", Geordie stated, "You gotta givvus another week to come up with the £500".

Some years ago a small rural town in Spain twinned with a similar town in Greece .
The Mayor of the Greek town visited the Spanish town.
When he saw the palatial mansion belonging to the Spanish mayor he wondered how he could afford such a house.
The Spaniard said; "You see that bridge over there?
The EU gave us a grant to build a two-lane bridge, but by building a single lane bridge with traffic lights at either end this house could be built".
The following year the Spaniard visited the Greek town.
He was simply amazed at the Greek Mayor's house, gold taps, marble floors, it was marvellous.
When he asked how this could be afforded the Greek said; "You see that bridge over there?"
The Spaniard replied; "No."

It's late fall and the Indians on a remote reservation in Oklahoma asked their new chief if the coming winter was going to be cold or mild.
Since he was a chief in a modern society, he had never been taught the old secrets.
When he looked at the sky, he couldn't tell what the winter was going to be like.
Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, he told his tribe that the winter was indeed going to be cold
and that the members of the village should collect firewood to be prepared.
But, being a practical leader, after several days, he got an idea. He went to the phone booth,
called the National Weather Service and asked, 'Is the coming winter going to be cold?'
'It looks like this winter is going to be quite cold,' the meteorologist at the weather service responded.
So the chief went back to his people and told them to collect even more firewood in order to be prepared.
A week later, he called the National Weather Service again.. 'Does it still look like it is going to be a very cold winter?'
'Yes,' the man at National Weather Service again replied, 'it's going to be a very cold winter.'
The chief again went back to his people and ordered them to collect every scrap of firewood they could find.
Two weeks later, the chief called the National Weather Service again.
'Are you absolutely sure that the winter is going to be very cold?'
'Absolutely,' the man replied,
'It's looking more and more like it is going to be one of the coldest winters we've ever seen.'
'How can you be so sure?' the chief asked.
The weatherman replied, 'The Indians are collecting a shitload of firewood'

The following questions were set in last year's GED examination. These are genuine answers (from 16 year olds)............and they WILL breed.

Q. Name the four seasons.
A. Salt, pepper, mustard and vinegar

Q. Explain one of the processes by which water can be made safe to drink.
A. Flirtation makes water safe to drink because it removes large pollutants like grit, sand, dead sheep and canoeists

Q. How is dew formed?
A. The sun shines down on the leaves and makes them perspire

Q. What causes the tides in the oceans?
A. The tides are a fight between the earth and the moon. All water tends to flow towards the moon, because there is no water on the moon, and nature abhors a vacuum. I forget where the sun joins the fight

Q. What guarantees may a mortgage company insist on?
A. If you are buying a house they will insist that you are well endowed

Q. In a democratic society, how important are elections?
A. Very important. Sex can only happen when a male gets an election

Q. What are steroids?
A. Things for keeping carpets still on the stairs (Shoot yourself now, there is little hope)

Q.. What happens to your body as you age?
A. When you get old, so do your bowels and you get intercontinental

Q. What happens to a boy when he reaches puberty?
A. He says goodbye to his boyhood and looks forward to his adultery (So true)

Q. Name a major disease associated with cigarettes.
A. Premature death

Q. What is artificial insemination?
A. When the farmer does it to the bull instead of the cow

Q. How can you delay milk turning sour?
A. Keep it in the cow (Simple, but brilliant)

Q. How are the main 20 parts of the body categorized (e.g. The abdomen)?
A. The body is consisted into 3 parts - the brainium, the borax and the abdominal cavity. The brainium contains the brain, the borax contains the heart and lungs and the abdominal cavity contains the five bowels: A, E, I,O,U.. (wtf!)

Q. What is the fibula?
A. A small lie

Q. What does 'varicose' mean?
A. Nearby

Q. What is the most common form of birth control?
A. Most people prevent contraception by wearing a condominium (That would work)

Q. Give the meaning of the term 'Caesarean section'.
A. The caesarean section is a district in Rome

Q. What is a seizure?
A. A Roman Emperor. (Julius Seizure, I came, I saw, I had a fit)

Q. What is a terminal illness?
A. When you are sick at the airport. (Irrefutable)

Q. Give an example of a fungus. What is a characteristic feature?
A. Mushrooms. They always grow in damp places and they look like umbrellas

Q. Use the word 'judicious' in a sentence to show you understand its meaning>
A. Hands that judicious can be soft as your face. (OMG)

Q. What does the word 'benign' mean?
A. Benign is what you will be after you be eight (brilliant)

Q. What is a turbine?
A. Something an Arab or Shreik wears on his head.

Finally for Adults only
A NUDE SANTA ----- Careful .....

Scroll down to see the nude Santa








For crying out loud....

Act your age.

There is no Santa!

Keep smiling, keep singing.

Joe Stead