Hoist With My Own Facebook

Funny Church Signs (Photo credit: au_tiger01)

You know how I like sharing church bulletin errors for my daily joke?

I may be in the next one.

My church is made up of three congregations which merged two years ago. When it became clear that the Vicar, David, was going to implode under the weight of the work, seven ministries were set up to help him.  I am the team leader for our Communications Ministry (hey, desperation makes even the likes of me look attractive).

Tomorrow night, we have a Ministry Teams Leaders’ meeting at the vicarage, at which we will most definitely, absolutely and certainly not complain (it is vital that you know this, because of what follows).  We have nothing – and no-one, especially not vicars – to complain about,  because we all love what we do and don’t need paying for it, not even one hundredth of a dong (you don’t believe me?  So xu me).

One of my jobs is to post details of our activities on Facebook.  If you are not on Facebook, I’d better explain something: when you type Such and such is happening @ such and such, the @ causes Facebook to offer names for you to link to, and puts it in the appropriate spot.  I always ignore them.  Or so I thought…

Today’s Facebook post – check Tuesday at 19:30:

But you know what really incensed me?   The space I created between tomorrow night’s meeting and Wednesday’s date disappeared.  

Formatting errors – now that is a crime.

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Previous Two Words:

Weltschmerz: sentimental pessimism.  Kind of how I feel every time I read my friends’ Facebook statuses.

Vilipend: to regard or treat as of little value or account.  What I just did to my Facebook friends, right before they all de-friended me.

Joke 753

Another plane joke, courtesy of Viv in France

Passengers Ryanair (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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(Michael O’Leary is the owner of Ryanair, the budget airline.)

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Michael O’Leary goes into a pub in Cork and asks for a pint of Guinness.  The barman nods and says, “That will be one euro.”

A pleased O’Leary hands over the money and comments, “That’s very cheap.”

“Yes sir, it is,” replies the barman, “however, if you want to drink the Guinness in a glass, you’ll have to pay an extra €3.”

The Chief Executive scowls but pays up.  He takes his drink and moves towards a seat.

“Ah, sir, if you want to sit down, you’ll first have to sit in this frame,” observes the barman.

Unfortunately O’Leary can’t squeeze into the frame. “Nobody could fit in that little thing,” he complains.

“Then you’ll have to pay a surcharge of €5 for your seat, sir,” cautions the barman.

“This is ridiculous,” cries O’Leary. “I want to see the manager.”

“Certainly sir,” responds the barman. “Here is his email address or, if you wish, you can contact him between 9 and 9.10 any Monday morning. Calls are free until they are answered. Then there is a talking charge of only 10 cents per second.”

A furious O’Leary swears he’ll never come into this pub again, to which the barman answers, “That’s perfectly okay sir, but remember, we’re the only pub in Ireland selling pints for one euro!”