A taste of some of my humour! Link to Humour Category >>
Martha’s Magic Meatballs
In her madness, mild-mannered Martha mistakenly mixed mustard into the miniature meatballs made for the meal at the Mad March meeting of Manchester Masons. Meanwhile, making sure the musical melodies were meaningful, Master of Ceremonies, Micky Mercury, masticated merrily on the marvelous morsels. “Mmmmmm. These meatballs are moorish”, he mumbled, mopping his mucky mustache, and mentioned that maybe Martha might make more to merchant at the Mayor’s Meat Market on Monday morning.
However, now I am senile and have been put out to grass and ignored by any company who can’t deal with people over the age of sixty, I have discovered that the same thing has happened again. Only this time, I didn’t discover it before I went to work. In fact, I didn’t discover it while I was at work either, nor when I arrived home and changed!
Picture the scene. I’m on my first day on a temporary assignment, trying to look cool.
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