Lancement de la fusée Troposphère V - Video

Voor de West-Vlamingen...'t is ne goeien !!
Voor de niet West-Vlamingen 't is een goeie les.

Liefst hardop lezen... Hilarisch!!!!!

 

Gisterennuchten riek noar kortrik up dotostrade...
Up me gemakske, jekent mie .

Ke kiekken azo over min schoere en kzie doar e wuf in n nieuwen BMW passeren an 140 tereure met eur tote tegen de rute in de spegel te kiekken om eur ogevlerken te kunn schildern.  Je moe da eke peizen...

 

Ik kiekken were voi me voor e poor seconden, moar angezien da dadde gin lelyk keun was... kzegge kgon nog moar e ki loern... Miljaarde nondedju, ze zat godver bikan up min...  en mo schildern (nog e couche)... Je kunt eki peisn dak verschoten en... me scheirmasjiene viel ut men nan, flak up men eclairtje dak in men ander nand an. Met dak met men nan vulzaoten hak me stuur tusschen me knien moet steken vaneigens, en deur dak moetn utwykken stukkn'k tegen me telefongstatiftje, me telefong volt noa beneen, flakin me zjatje kaffie tusschen min billen. Je kut e ke gon peizen die hete kaffie up me spriet, me kljingeld verbrandt... en me telefong no de wup... en vaneigens nog e ke me corespondensje onderbrookn wok...

 

Godver, Godver, je zoet de'r ollik van braken van wuven achter 't stuur!!!!

If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome, including toilet flush burials for dead Goldfish, the story below will have you laughing out LOUD! 

 

Overview: I had to take my son's lizard to the vet.

Here's what happened:

 

Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was 'something wrong' with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room.

'He's just lying there looking sick', he told me. 'I'm serious, Dad. Can you help?'

I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do.

'Honey', I called, 'come look at the lizard!'

'Oh, my gosh!' my wife exclaimed. 'She's having Babies.'

'What?' my son demanded. 'But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!'

I was equally outraged.

'Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce,'I said accusingly to my wife.

'Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?' she inquired
(I think she actually said this sarcastically!) 

'No, but you were supposed to get two boys!' I reminded her,
(in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth).

'Yeah, Bert and Ernie!' my son agreed.

'Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know,' she informed me. (Again with the sarcasm!)

By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.

'Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience' I announced. 'We're about to witness the miracle of birth.'

'Oh, gross!' they shrieked

'Well, isn't THAT just great? What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?' my wife wanted to know.

We peered at the patient ... After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.

'We don't appear to be making much progress,' I noted.

'It's breech,' my wife whispered, horrified.

'Do something, Dad!' my son urged.

'Okay, okay.' Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared I tried several more times with the same results.

'Should I call 911?' my eldest daughter wanted to know.'Maybe they could talk us through the trauma.' (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)

'Let's get Ernie to the vet,' I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap. 

'Breathe, Ernie, breathe,' he urged.

'I don't think lizards do Lamaze,' his mother noted to him.
(Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for G~d's sake).

The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.

'What do you think, Doc, a C-section?' I suggested scientifically.

'Oh, very interesting,' he murmured. 'Mr. And Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?'

I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.

'Is Ernie going to be okay?' my wife asked.

'Oh, perfectly,' the vet assured us. 'This lizard is not in labor. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen. Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um ...um, masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back.'  He blushed, glancing at my wife.

We were silent, absorbing this.

'So, Ernie's just, just...excited,' my wife offered.

'Exactly,' the vet replied, relieved that we understood.

More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle, and giggle. And then even laugh loudly.

'What's so funny?' I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.

Tears were now running down her face. 'It's just that ...I'm picturing you pulling on its...its...teeny little... ' She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.

'That's enough,' I warned. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the lizard and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay.

'I know Ernie's really thankful for what you did, Dad,' he told me.

'Oh, you have NO idea,' my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.

 

Two lizards: $140.

One cage: $50.

Trip to the vet: $30.

Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie:  Priceless!

Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class.

 

Lizards lay eggs!

 

 

Großvater sorgt sich um seinen Enkel, der inzwischen 18 ist, aber nie
> das Haus verlässt weil er ständig vor dem PC sitzt.
>
> Eines Tages spricht ihn der Großvater an: "Weißt du, was ich in
> deinem Alter getan habe?"
> "Ne, was denn?"
> "Wir sind nach Paris ins Moulin Rouge gefahren, haben gefressen,
> gesoffen,
> haben den Weibern an den Titten rumgespielt, haben dem Barmann an die
> Theke gepisst und sind ohne zu zahlen gegangen."
> Dem Enkel scheint diese Vorstellung zu gefallen, nicht nur das, nein
> sie lässt ihn nicht mehr los, also entscheidet er sich dasselbe zu
> tun.
> Inzwischen sind zwei Wochen vergangen und der Großvater kommt wieder
> zu Besuch. Da sieht er seinen Enkel komplett eingegipst und nur noch
> mit der Hälfte seiner Zähne.
> "Mein Gott was ist mit dir passiert?"
> "Tja Großvater. Wir sind nach Paris ins Moulin Rouge gefahren, haben
> gefressen, gesoffen, den Weibern an den Titten rumgespielt, haben dem
> Barmann an die Theke gepisst und wollten ohne zu zahlen gehen. Da
> haben sie uns voll vertrimmt."
> Fragt der Großvater: "Mit wem wart ihr denn da?"
> "Mit der TUI!"
> "Hmh, ja", brummt der Großvater, "das war der Fehler!"
> "Warum, mit wem warst du denn da?"
> "Mit der Wehrmacht!"