lol a little laugh for the day

Natal is a province in South Africa, which apparently has the highest quota of Indians outside of India ...

Natal curry contest.
If you can read this whole story without laughing then there's no hope for you. I was crying by the end......



Clearly enjoyment is even better if you lived amongst these lovely people with their crazy accents and sayings .

NOTE:
If you pay attention to the first two judges, the reaction of the third judge is even better.
For those of you who have lived in Natal, you know how typical this is!


They actually have a Curry Cook-off about June/July. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the Royal Show in PMB.
Judge #3 was an inexperienced food critic named Frank, who was visiting from the UK .

Frank: "Recently, I was honoured to be selected as a judge at a Curry Cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and so I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking for directions to the Beer Garden when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Natal Indians) that the curry wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted".

Here are the scorecard notes from the event:

CURRY # 1 - SEELAN'S MANIAC MONSTER TOMATO CURRY..

Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 -- Nice smooth tomato flavour. Very mild.
Judge # 3 (Frank) -- Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These people are crazy.

CHILI # 2 - PHOENIX BBQ CHICKEN CURRY...

Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of chicken. Slight chilli tang.
Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavour, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich manoeuvre! They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.

CURRY # 3 - SHAMILA'S FAMOUS "BURN DOWN THE GARAGE" CURRY...

Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse curry. Great kick.
Judge # 2 -- A bit salty, good use of chilli peppers.
Judge # 3 -- Call 911 I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drain Cleaner. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting pissed from all the beer.

CHILI # 4 - BABOOS BLACK MAGIC BEAN CURRY...

Judge # 1 -- Black bean curry with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a curry.
Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Shareen, the beer maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 200kg woman is starting to look HOT...just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chilli an aphrodisiac?

CHILI # 5 LALL'S LEGAL LIP REMOVER...

Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong curry. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2 -- Average beef curry, could use more tomato. Must admit the chilli peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chilli had given me brain damage. Shareen saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw them

CHILI # 6 - VERISHNEE'S VEGETARIAN VARIETY....

Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety curry. Good balance of spices and peppers.
Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
Judge # 3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulphuric flames. I am definitely going to shit myself if I fart and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that Shareen. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone ice cream.

CHILI # 7 - SELINA’S “MOTHER-IN-LAW'S-TONGUE" CURRY...

Judge # 1 -- A mediocre curry with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chilli peppers at the last moment. (I should take note at this stage that I am worried about Judge # 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably).
Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I’ve lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with curry which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my shirt. At least, during the autopsy, they’ll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing - it’s too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.

CHILI # 8 - NAIDOOS TOENAIL CURLING CURRY...

Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending. This is a nice blend curry. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced curry. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over and pulled the curry pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor man, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot curry?
Judge # 3 - No Report

A Touching Story

Kind of a cool way to take a casket to the cemetery

A funeral procession pulled into Pressley Cemetery. Several car loads of family members followed a black truck towing a boat with a coffin in it. A passer-by remarked,
"That guy must have been a very avid fisherman."

"Oh, he still is," remarked one of the mourners. "As a matter of fact, he's headed off to the lake as soon as we bury his wife."

Scottish Golfer



An old Jewish Scot decided to retire and take up golf, so he applied for
membership at a local golf club.

About a week later he received a letter that his application has been rejected.
He went to the club to inquire as to why.

Secretary : You are aware that this is a Scottish golf club?

Scot : Aye, but I am as Scottish as you are, ma'am, my name is MacTavish.

Secretary : Do you know that on formal occasions we wear a kilt?

Scot : Aye, I do know, and I wear a kilt too.

Secretary : You are also aware, that we wear nothing under the kilt?

Scot : Aye, and neither do I.

Secretary : Are you also aware, that the members sit naked in the steam room?

Scot : Aye, I also do the same.

Secretary : But you are a Jew?

Scot : Aye, I be that.

Secretary : So, being Jewish, you are circumcised, is that correct?

Scot : Aye, I be that, too.

Secretary : I am terribly sorry, but the members just would not feel comfortable
sitting in the steam room with you, since your privates are different
from theirs.

Scot : Aye, away with ya, ma'am. I know that you have to be a Protestant to
march with the Orange men. And I know that you have to be a Catholic to
join the Knights of Columbus. But this is the first time I've heard
that you have to be a complete prick to join a golf club.

A farmer lived on a quiet rural highway. But, as time went by, the traffic built up at an alarming rate.

The traffic was so heavy and so fast that his chickens were being run over at a rate of three to six a day. So one day he called the sheriff’s office and said, “You’ve got to do something about all of these people driving so fast and killing all of my chickens.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked the sheriff.

“I don’t care, just do something about these crazy drivers!”

So the next day, the county workers erected a sign that said, “SLOW: SCHOOL CROSSING”

Three days later the farmer called the sheriff and said, “You’ve got to do something about these drivers. The ‘school crossing’ sign seems to make them go even faster.”

So, again, the sheriff sent out the county workers and they put up a new sign: “SLOW: CHILDREN AT PLAY”

But that sped the drivers up even more!

So the farmer kept calling, and the sheriff kept changing the signs.

Finally, the farmer said to the sheriff, “Your signs are doing no good. Can I put up my own sign?”

The sheriff was ready to let the man do just about anything if it would get him to stop calling every day. He said, “Sure thing, put up whatever you want.”

And after that, the sheriff got no more calls from the farmer.

Three weeks later, the sheriff’s curiosity got the best him and he decided to give the farmer a call. “How’s the problem with those drivers? Did you put up your sign?”

“Oh, I sure did. And not one chicken has been killed since then. I’ve got to go. I’m very busy,” he said, hanging up the phone.

The sheriff was really curious now and he thought to himself, “I’d better go out there and take a look at that sign. … It might be something that WE could use to slow down drivers …”

So the sheriff drove out to the farmer’s house, and his jaw nearly hit the floor at what he saw.

There, printed neatly on a sheet of plywood was the farmer’s sign:

“SLOW: NUDIST COLONY — WATCH FOR CHICKS”

one way to solve a problem

​ ​ Elderly lady ​.​



An elderly Florida lady did her shopping and, upon returning to her car, found four males in the act of leaving with her vehicle.

She dropped her shopping bags ...and drew her

​ ​ handgun, proceeding to scream at the top of her lungs, “I have a gun, and I know how to use it! Get ​ ​ out of the car!”. The four men didn't wait for a second threat. They got out and ran like mad.
The lady, somewhat shaken, then proceeded to load her shopping bags into the back of the car and got into the driver’s seat. She was so shaken that she could not get her key into the ignition.

She tried and tried, and then she realized why. It was for the same reason she had wondered why there was a football, a Frisbee and two 12-packs of beer in the front seat. A few minutes later, she found her own car parked four or five spaces farther down.

She loaded her bags into the car and drove to the police station to report her mistake.

The sergeant to whom she told the story couldn't stop laughing. He pointed to the other end of the counter, where four pale men were reporting a car jacking by a mad, elderly woman described as white, less than five feet tall, glasses, curly white hair, and carrying a large handgun.

No charges were filed.

The moral of the story?

If you’re going to have a senior moment… make it memorable.

Furthering your thirst for knowledge.
A bit of Greek History
2500 years ago a slave call girl from Sardinia named Gedophamee
(pronounced Get-offa'-me) was attending the first athletic festival in Greece .
This festival had no name.
In those days the athletes performed naked. To prevent unwanted arousal while
competing, the men imbibed freely on a drink, containing saltpetre before and
throughout the variety of events.
At the opening ceremonial parade of this first great event, Gedophamee observed
the first wave of naked athletic males marching toward her and she exclaimed:
"Oh! Limp Pricks!"
Over the next two and a half millennia that expression morphed into "Olympics".
Just thought I'd share this new found knowledge with you.
No need to thank me. You're welcome.