Minimalist poet, minimalist lifestyle

I've just got back from a quick visit to the pub. I was meant to be meeting my mate but he didn't show up. I'm not that bothered though - it was only going to be a couple of drinks anyhow; I'd always intended having an early night.

I went to my regular pub on Friday night though and although nothing special happened; I was just talking to the same people, I seemed to have an extra confidence about me knowing that if anyone were to ask me what job I did, I could tell them. It felt bloody good!

An old woman came into her doctor's office and confessed to an embarrassing problem. "I fart all the time, Doctor Johnson, but they're soundless, and they have no odor. In fact, since I've been here, I've farted no less than twenty times. What can I do?"
"Here's a prescription, Mrs. Harris. Take these pills three times a day for seven days and come back and see me in a week."

Next week an upset Mrs. Harris marched into Dr. Johnson's office. "Doctor, I don't know what was in those pills, but the problem is worse! I'm farting just as much, but now they smell terrible! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Calm down, Mrs. Harris," said the doctor soothingly. "Now that we've fixed your sinuses, we'll work on your hearing!!!"

These four gents go out to play golf one sunny morning. One is detained in the clubhouse, and the other three are discussing their children while walking to the first tee.
"My son Kent," says one, "has made quite a name for himself in the home-building industry. He began as a carpenter, but now owns his own design and construction firm. He's so successful in fact, in the last year he was able to give a good friend a brand new home as a gift."

The second man, no to be out done, tells how his son began his career as a car salesman, but now owns a multi-line dealership. "Norm's so successful, in fact, in the last six months he gave his friend two brand new cars as a gift."

The third man's son, Greg, has worked his way up through a stock brokerage, and in the last few weeks has given a good friend a large stock portfolio as a gift.

As the fourth man arrives at the tee, another tells him that they have been discussing their progeny and asks what line his son is in.

"To tell the truth, I'm not very pleased with how my son turned out," he replies. "For 15 years, Chico's been a hairdresser, and I've just recently discovered he's gay. However, on the bright side, he must be good at what he does because his last three boyfriends have given him a brand new house, two cars, and a big pile of stock certificates."

For the first occasion for a long time I've been in contact with every member of my immediate family.

My brother visited on Friday evening; only briefly while he was waiting for his bus.

My sister contacted me on MSN Messenger early this morning (she lives in Adelaide, Australia) to tell how excited she is about her new boyfriend; and, as arranged, I went to see our parents at Thurnscoe, enjoying a delicious Sunday lunch of steak pie and Yorkshire pudding with potatoes, roast parsnips and carrots, plus lots of onion gravy.

Dear Son:

Just a few lines to let you know that I'm still alive. I'm writing this letter slowly because I know that you cannot read fast. You won't know the house when you come home. . . we've moved.

About your father. . . He has a lovely new job. He has 500 men under him. He is cutting the grass at the cemetery.

There was a washing machine in the new house when we moved in, but it wasn't working too good. Last week I put 14 shirts into it, pulled the chain, and I haven't seen the shirts since.

Your sister Mary had a baby this morning. I haven't found out whether it is a boy or girl, so I don't know whether you're an aunt or uncle.

Your Uncle Dick drowned last week in a vat of whiskey in a Dublin brewery. Some of his workmates dived in to save him, but he fought them off bravely. We cremated his body, and it took three days to put out the fire.

Your father didn't have much to drink at Christmas. I put a bottle of castor oil in his pint of beer. That kept him going till New Years day.

I went to the doctor on Thursday and your father came with me. The doctor put a small tube into my mouth and told me not to open it for ten minutes. Your father offered to buy it from him.

It only rained twice last week. First for 3 days, and then for 4 days. Monday it was so windy that one of our chickens laid the same egg four times.

We had a letter yesterday from the undertaker. He said if the last installment wasn't paid on your grandmother within 7 days; up she comes.

Your Loving Mother,