Minimalist poet, minimalist lifestyle

Miss Jones, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was
much admired for her sweetness and kindness to all.

One afternoon, the pastor came to call on her, and she showed him into her quaint sitting
room. She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea.

As he sat facing her old pump organ, the young minister noticed a cut glass bowl sitting
on top of it, filled with water. In the water floated, of all things, a condom!

When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his
curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of
him and he could no longer resist.

"Miss Jones," he said, "I wonder if you would tell me about this?" pointing to the bowl.

"Oh, yes," she replied, "isn't it wonderful? I was walking through the park a few months
ago, and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on
the organ, keep it wet, and it would prevent the spread of disease."

"And you know... I haven't had a cold all winter."

I've just read a report in The Sunday Times which says that, despite all the heavy rain, statistically speaking this summer hasn't been that bad: a bit wetter, cooler and cloudier than usual - but nothing unexpected. Apparently maximum temperatures have been quite low, but minimums haven't (due to cloud cover.)

The weather here this morning is lovely. It's sunny, but a bit cool in the shade; I'll have to wait until after dinner to spend a bit of time in the garden though- by then it will be in direct sunshine...I hope the neighbours are going to be quiet and not having an outdoor party or be burning rubbish as both sets of neighbours did yesterday.

A widow recently married a widower. Soon after
the marriage she was accosted by a friend who
laughingly remarked - "I suppose, like all men
who have been married before, your husband
sometimes talks about his first wife?"
"Oh, not any more, he doesn't," the other replied.
"What stopped him?"
"I started talking about my next husband."

A noted sex therapist realizes that people often lie about the frequency of their
encounters, so he devises a test to tell for certain how often someone has sex.

To prove his theory, he fills up an auditorium with people, and goes down the line,
asking each person to smile. Using the size of the person's smile, the therapist is able
to guess accurately until he comes to the last man in line, who is grinning from ear to
ear.

"Twice a day," the therapist guesses, but is surprised when the man says no. "Once a day,
then?" Again the answer is no. "Twice a week?" "No." "Twice a month?" "No." The man
finally says yes when the doctor gets to "once a year".

The therapist is angry that his theory isn't working, and asks the man, "What the heck
are you so happy about?"

The man answers, "Tonight's the night!"