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Friday Funnies 22-Feb-2013 At 1:36:07 PM MrsM10iswhereitsat.

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On 15/02/2013 Mr simey wrote:
>Well that's why guys lacking confidence need my advice. And it starts with how they look and what they wear...

This is very true dearie, take it from me that us of the opposite sex notice these things, but be careful about any advice your mother may give you. Even Derek my M10 love tries occasionally to keep the standard up to the mark. In fact he was at the barber shop the other day and told me the following conversation he overheard.

The Wooden Ball.

An aging golden haired boulderer decides it is time to spruce himself up properly in the hope of improving his low scoring average, so he walks into a Horsham barbershop for a shave and a haircut, but he tells the barber he can't get all his whiskers off because his cheeks are wrinkled from age.
The barber gets a little wooden ball from a cup on the shelf and tells him to put it inside his cheek to spread out the skin. When he's finished, the old boulderer tells the barber that that was the cleanest shave he's had in years, but he wanted to know what would have happened if he had swallowed that little ball.
The barber replied, "Just bring it back in a couple of days like everyone else does."

Dress sense.

The Cattlemen's Association of Queensland were holding their big Triennial Conference, and had chosen to meet this time in the South-West, at the town of Thargomindah.
It was a big deal . . . and even bigger because they'd managed to get Prince Charles as Introductory Speaker.
Such a large number of Cattlemen came, that it was necessary to have an outdoor venue, right next to the Sales Yards.

Prince Charles mounted to the top of the highest loading ramp, and looked out over the sea of Akubras.
He began to speak about cattle and cattle-raising, about methane and Global Warming, about biodiversity and conservation.
The crowd was absolutely silent. Every eye was fixed on the Prince: or possibly on his hat, which was a peculiarly furry specimen, of russet hue, and with a foxtail hanging down at the rear and blowing this and that way in the breeze.

Much later, in the coolness of the local pub, Prince Charles was having a drink with the Organizing Committee.
"Rather surprised," said the Prince, "How well my speech went over. Was afraid it might have been a bit controversial in places. But at the end, there wasn't a single question from the audience. A pleasure to see everyone agreeing with me on these important topics."

"Well actually, Sir," said the Association President, "There was one question that a lot of the fellows were wondering about. They've delegated me to ask you about that very unusual hat you have. They've never seen anything like it before."

"My hat?" queried Prince Charles, "It is a rather special one, don't you think? Pure foxskin, presented to me by one of my Scottish tenants.
My mother thought it would suit the occasion.
You know, I have more than a hundred hats, and often it's difficult to select the one which is just right.
But my mother has an unerring judgement in these matters, and I find I can rely upon her to make an immediate decision as to which hat is the exactly right choice.
For my trip to Australia, I was quite undecided about what to wear, so I telephoned the Palace and spoke with her.
"Mother," I said, "Would you please advise me about what hat I should wear. I am flying out tomorrow, to address the Cattlemen's Conference at Thargomindah."

And you know, she answered me with hardly a moment's pause :
'Thargomindah? Wear the fox hat.”