Jon Faine

THERE HAS been a spate of car thefts in our neighbourhood over the last few months. One was the rusty chariot belonging to the cook from our local Mexican restaurant. He indignantly told me that when he called the police they did not care and were blatantly racist. I inquired why he thought they were discriminating. He explained that he had rung to notify them of the theft and to provide details. They just burst out laughing at him when he told them his name was Carlos.

TERRY WAS out of work for a while and thought he would go door knocking for odd jobs around the streets. He wandered up one posh driveway, rang the doorbell and asked if there was any chance of some work. The lord of the manor said, “Yes I do have some jobs…. I need someone to paint the porch. I will pay you $20 an hour, the paint and brushes are in the garage. Come back to the door when you have finished.”

Terry goes around to the garage, gets the job done in a few hours and goes back to collect his money. The owner comes to the door, and says, “Oh great, you have finished already? That was quick, I’ll give you an extra $10,” and hands over the cash.

Terry pockets the notes, thanks the elderly gent and as he turns to walk off says, “By the way, I don’t know if you already know, but thats a Maserati not a Porsche.”

MY NEIGHBOUR was washing the car with his son. After a moment, the son asked his father, “Do you think we could use a sponge instead?”

OUR GOOD friends Roz and Pete were having marital difficulties. Things were grim, but they were supposed to join us at a wedding on the weekend, several hours drive into the country. The drive proceeded in awkward silence, until Pete decided he had been dishonest for long enough.

“Roz, I need to tell you I have been having an affair…. I am leaving and moving in with my mistress. What do you want?” says a guilt ridden Pete.

“I’ve known for ages, I’m not stupid… but I don’t want anything,” says Roz, as their twenty year old Mercedes races along narrow winding roads.

“What… you don’t want the house?” says an incredulous Pete.

“No I don’t…. I’ve got all that I want,” says a red-faced Roz as she maintains a dignified air.

“What, you don’t want the beach house? The boat?” says an astonished Pete, thinking he can’t believe the way this is going.

“ No, I don’t want the beach house, and the last thing I want is your boat,” says an increasingly agitated Roz, striving to control her emotions. “I told you, I have everything I want,” she spits out through gritted teeth.

“What about the super fund? I’ll talk to the accountant about a fair division…” says a puzzled Pete, wondering how this all aligns with his family lawyer’s advice last Thursday.

“No, thank you, but I have everything I need,” says Roz, as she approaches a sharp bend in the dirt road.

“Well, what is it then? What is it that you have? Is there a secret bank account or something?”

“No, nothing like that – I have everything I want – I’ve got the airbag,” she says as she spears the car into a tree.

WHY DOES a Lada Niva have a heated rear window? To keep your hands warm while you push.

WHAT DOES FIAT stand for? “Fix It Again Tony”

AND ALFA ? “Always Looking For Another”

A BLOKE walks into the second hand parts shop. “Can I get a windscreen wiper for my Volkswagen?” “Sounds like a fair swap,” replies the grinning salesman.

I WAS fixing the brakes last weekend and accidentally took a sip from the brake fluid bottle instead of water. It tasted okay, so I had some more and eventually acquired a taste for the stuff. My friends think I have become addicted, but I know I can stop anytime.

AN IDIOT pushes her BMW into the gas station and tells the mechanic that it died.

After working on it for a few minutes, he has it idling smoothly.

“What’s the story?” she asked.

“Just crap in the carburettor,” the mechanic replied.

“How often do I have to do that?” asks the idiot.

JOE THE loudmouth mechanic was removing the cylinder heads from the motor of a car when he spotted the famous heart surgeon Dr. Michael Barrington-Smythe, who was standing off to the side, waiting for the service manager to come take a look at his Jaguar.

Joe shouted across the garage, “Hey Doc! Is that you? Come on over here a minute.” The famous surgeon, a bit surprised, walked over to where Joe the mechanic was working on the car.

Joe straightened up, wiped his hands on a rag and asked argumentatively, “So Mr Fancy Doctor, look at this here piece of work. I also open hearts, take valves out, grind ’em, put in new parts, and when I finish this baby will purr like a kitten. So how come you get the big bucks, when you and me is doing basically the same work?”

Dr.Barrington-Smythe leaned over and whispered to Joe the loudmouth. “Try doing it with the engine running…”

Toot toot. Enjoy the rest of summer