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Posted on 09/01/2006 12:43:11 PM PDT by DollyCali
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The prices of the ices do not seem that much for quality ice cream to me but then British prices are much more expensive than American.
The average dessert even at pub in England 3.25 - 3.95 pounds sterling (conversion approx 1.80) so anything from 5.85 dollars to 7.10 dollars a dessert is usual.
Good morning!
ROFL!
Good morning/afternoon to you ma'am!
Just getting in but back out again to shindig at Western Reserve Academy..
see all later perhaps..
Have a good fling!
I'm just here getting ready for work tomorrow. I am still in shock about the Crocodile Hunter. I know his wife is having an awful time these hours. I realize many, many people have lost loved ones the last 24 hours. I just mean he was such a well known person.
WFTR: Break it to your snakes. He was our Dr. Doolittle. A friend of the animals. He was good at making us aware that all kinds require understanding and a chance to be respected.
We are just unpacking, waiting for the kids to come over, fixin' to grill some burgers and then watch Prison Break.
Hey guys!
Anyone around??
Hi Rocky.. I am around for about 15 seconds more.. slim pickings this weekend but some great people showed up, a few new ones & some interesting discussion.
I can hardly keep my eyes open so going to sleep. I have been a rotten hostess here this weekend..
sigh
good to see you & trust your weekend was outstanding!
the "late crew" will no doubt be checking in shortly
Just got done watching Prison Break and getting the grandson to go to sleep.
Night!
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it.
A man answered, saying "Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?"
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right effing number!" and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.
When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits. After hanging up with her I decided to call the 'wrong' number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an asshole!" and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word "Asshole" next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, " You're an asshole!" It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic "asshole calling" would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the Verizon company. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?" He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!"
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window which included his phone number, so I wrote down the number. A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial) I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole too.
I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?" "Yes, it is", he said.
"Can you tell me where I can see it ?" I asked.
"Yes, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, in Vancluse. It's a yellow house, and the car's parked right out in front."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"My name is Don Hansen," he said.
"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
"I'm home every evening after five."
"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"
"Yes?"
"Don, you're an asshole!"
Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.
Then I came up with an idea.
I called Asshole #1.
"Hello."
"You're an asshole!" (But I didn't hang up.)
"Are you still there?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Stop calling me," he screamed.
"Make me," I said.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Don Hansen."
"Yeah? Where do you live?"
"Asshole, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in front."
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole," and hung up.
Then I called Asshole #2. "Hello?" he said.
"Hello, asshole," I said.
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."
"You'll what?" I said.
"I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed.
I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down on Mowbray Blvd. Vancluse.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Mowbray. I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead police Helicopter and a news crew.
NOW I feel much better. Anger management really works...
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