I don't get fridays off. I have to sleep at my desk like everyone else. I hate it when my head hits the keyboard, all that darn beeping, just wakes me up.

POETS = Piss Off Early its Thursday. At least that was what I was told.

Steve, who are you on Sunday?

In the UK they have odd ways of putting things. I have to listen extra hard to make sure I don't blunder too badly. Then things like PPL. (Private Pilots Lisc.) It dosn't seem to be spelled out, just initials. Sometimes German is a bit eiaser, I KNOW I don't speak german worth a hoot, so I work from there. English now, well sometimes I thing I understand, but ooops.

Humor: I was riding in a Taxi Cab, and the driver wasn't real happy with Americans at that moment. Something about Reagen, Faulklands, and some other things I had no control over. Anyway after being ragged on for a while, I developed this real, slow, southern, redneck, dingbat, type accent.

Me: "Ive been here in England, it is the most sanatary contry I have ever been in."

Driver: "Sanatary?"

Me: "Yeah, every where I look, I see these big signs, Tolet." then pointing to a HUGE sign. "Lookie at dat one, it's so big, it must have a balicony! How come you-all put the gap in there?"

Driver, now getting a bit red: "That's To Let, not tolet, I means for rent!"

Me "Oh, How come you have to rent your tolets? Are they that expensive?"

Anyway that went on for about five miles. I think the poor driver about split a gut then. Never did see him again though.

Fadac