It's Always Darkest Before You Turn On The Light

  So I walked into a coffee shop the other day and, as all the available tables were taken, I sat at the handicapped table.  I took out my laptop and opened a binder of papers in an attempt to give the impression to anyone who was looking that I had important work to do.  Satisfied that everyone nearby was convinced I was working for the UN, I stood up to order my coffee.  And I swear to Jesus,  his brother, Adolph, and their three-toed sloth, Stanley, didn't this woman at the next table say - loudly enough to be heard on the MIR space station - "You know that table is for handicapped people."   I said pleasantly (for am I not a Canadian?) "Yes, I do." So she says "Well, you're not handicapped."  And I said "Ah, Missus, did you not see the way I walked in here?  Sure I'm bandy-legged on account of putting both of my legs into the one knicker leg this morning. The arse is ripped off me."  Well she was having none of it, for she persi...

  Not many people know that William Wordsworth's classic poem The Daffodils was originally about pubic hairs.    After much painstaking research, I have unearthed the original poem along with the rejection letter he received from his publishers which went like this: Here's the original poem: The Pubic Hairs by William Wordsworth I wandered, lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd Of pubic hairs, it gave me chills Beside the lake, beneath the trees Reaching almost to my knees Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way They stretched in never-ending line The black, the red, the blonde, the gray Ten thousand saw I at a glance I very nearly peed my pants I pondered then and did opine On whose pubes they might be For though they looked a lot like mine They didn't come from me Then to myself I muttered "Billy, They clearly came from someone's willy" And then I thought how most of us Doth keep...