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John was on his deathbed and gasped pitifully.
"Give me one last request, dear," he said.
"Of course, John ," his wife said softly.
"Six months after I die," he said, "I want you to marry Barry."
"But I thought you hated Barry," she said.
With his last breath John said, "I do!"
Like 80 grit sandpaper mate
... that was a bit rough.
:2tsup::D:2tsup:
Allan
____________________________________
I once stole a calendar - and got 12 months.
:doh: Must have been he hasn't talked to me since.
Let me tell you. my neighbour is about 25, blond, tallish, great figure, hair you would kill for and sunbakes topless in the backyard.
all in all he, is a nice bloke.
:oo: John's turned and he doesn't have a lathe