Theer Ahfter Me Looky Chahrmmms!

Holy cow, what a brogue.

Anyway, did you hear the one about the Irish Rally driver? After he crashes his car, he and his navigator have to  walk to the nearest bus depot. But it's late and the buses have stopped running. He tries to enlist his compatriot in a scheme to steal a bus to get home.
     "We're stranded, Mike, unless we steal a bus."
     "They'll put us in the gaol for sure if we're caught, Pat, but there's nothing else for it."
And with that, Pat breaks the window on the bus garage. The lights are out, and it's dark, and they're fumbling around. Mike finally finds a bus with the keys in it and starts it up.
     "Pat, hurry up and get in."
     "Mike, we can't steal that bus. That's the number 89 bus. It doesn't go by our flat."
     "Don't be daft, Pat; it goes to the roundabout near Saint Mary's. We can walk home from there."

I Find That People Named Garrett Are Generally Pretty Cool

Some surf on ten-story buildings made from water, for instance.

Scudiving. Skydoving. Scudoving. Divescubing. Whatever

Father's Day Is Coming Up Soon. The BSBFB Would Like To Remind You Little Noseminers: No Collages

I Am A Lineman For The County. And I Work On Live Loads. Searchin' With My Copter For Another Overload

(Apologies to Jimmy Webb, and thanks to Gerard at American Digest for sending that one along)