The Farmhouse inn radioshow

Hey im back again, i have been so busy the past couple of months.Well my radioshow on Wednesday nights are coming to an end after 12 years,it is sad for me but thats live hey.I am having a farewell party at Geronimo's Sportsbar and pub on Wednesday night11-03-2009 at 19H00 till late.I hope to see all my friends there.For bookings call 011-366-2273 and book your table.Please join my facebook group (Farmhouse inn farewell party)and you could be one of 20 mvg's on that night when i do my live broadcast on stage at Geronimo's from 21H00 till 23H00.DJ Spirit will be in the mix and ripping up the decks from 23Hoo till late with a laser and lightshow and the best tunes after my live show.For more details you can email me at gerhard@939.co.za

Best wishes

Gerhard

Now this is a Christmas tree

The chief

The Bicycle

A Priest was about to finish his tour of duty, and was leaving his Mission

in the jungle where he has spent years teaching the natives when he realizes

that the one thing he never taught them was how to speak English.

So he takes the chief for a walk in the forest. He points to a tree and says

to the chief, 'This is a tree.'

The chief looks at the tree and grunts, 'Tree.'

The Priest is pleased with the response. They walk a little further and he
points to a rock and says, 'This is a rock.' Hearing this, the chief looks and

grunts, 'Rock.'

The Priest was really getting enthusiastic about the results when he hears
a rustling in the bushes. As they peek over the top, he sees a couple of natives

in the midst of heavy sexual activity.

The Priest is really flustered and quickly responds, 'Man riding a bike.'

The chief looks at the couple briefly, pulls out his blowgun and kills them.

The Priest goes ballistic and yells at the chief that he has spent years
teaching the tribe how to be civilized and be kind to each other, so how could he

kill these people in cold blood that way?

The chief replied, 'My bike.'

Viagra advertisement at a doctor's room

Baie snaaks

3 ouens sterf in die weermag, en die Generaal moet hulle
metgeselle die nuus oordra.By die eerste huis vertel hy die soldaat
se vrou van
die ou se dood en sy huil so 'n bietjie.Die generaal wou toe weet
watse begrafnis
hulle moet reël."Wel, hy was baie lief vir hengel, so ek sal hom
maar veras en sy asse in die see gooi en hy sal gelukkig wees" sê sy
weduwee.
By die tweede huis vra die generaal dieselfde vraag aan die
vrou, en nadat sy 'n traan of twee gestort het, sê sy, "Hy was baie
lief vir jag,
so ek sal hom laat veras, en die asse in die jagveld strooi waar sy siel
lekker sal rus".
By die derde huis leer die generaal dat die laaste soldaat eintlik
'n moffie was en met 'n man getroud was. Nadat die moffie vir 'n uur
lank sy oë uitgehuil het sê hy "O hy was nie eintlik iemand wat ander
belange gehad het behalwe vir my nie. Hy was die wonderlikste minnaar. Hy was
ook baie lief vir kerrie en rissies, en ek het altyd die beste disse vir hom
voorberei, so ek dink ons moet hom veras, en ek sal weer een van my
spesiale warm disse maak en sy asse oor strooi, dan sal ek hom eet,
en dan kan hy
vir oulaas my gat weer lekker laat brand !"

Wheels of life

This funny in a way, but also so true and in a sence sad hey?

The Taxman

At the end of the tax year, the Tax Office sent an inspector to audit the books of a synagogue.

While he was checking the books he turned to the Rabbi and said: "I notice you buy a lot of candles. What do you do with the candle drippings?"
"Good question," noted the Rabbi. "We save them up and send them back to the candle makers, and every now and then they send us a free box of candles."

"Oh," replied the auditor, somewhat disappointed that his unusual question had a practical answer.

But on he went, in his obnoxious way: "What about all these biscuit purchases? What do you do with the crumbs?"

"Ah, yes," replied the Rabbi, realising that the inspector was trying to trap him with an unanswerable question.

"We collect them and send them back to the manufacturers, and every now and then they send a free box of holy biscuits."

"I see!" replied the auditor, thinking hard about how he could fluster the know-it-all Rabbi.

"Well, Rabbi," he went on, "what do you do with all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you perform?"

"Here, too, we do not waste," answered the Rabbi. "What we do is save up all the foreskins and send them to the Tax Office, and about once a year they send us a complete dick."