joke

[hairyface 211]

A Welsh Love Story.

 

An elderly man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of

 

impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite

 

"Welsh cakes" wafting up the stairs.

 

He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed.

 

Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and

 

with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he

 

crawled downstairs. With laboured breath, he leaned against the door

 

frame, gazing into the kitchen.

 

Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already

 

in heaven, for there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen

 

table were literally hundreds of his favourite Welsh cakes.

 

Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his Devoted Welsh

 

wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy

 

man?

 

Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table,

 

landing on his knees in a rumpled posture.

 

His aged and withered hand trembled towards a cake at the edge of

 

the table, when it was suddenly smacked by his wife with a spatula.

 

"F**k off" she said, "they're for the funeral."

[Guest MOLLY]

MOLL.

[Guest The Shaman]

:11:

[Guest young lampers]

[ratcher 69]

[diggory 130]

:11:

[HBG 350]

:11:

[Guest lampinlass]

:11:

[witton 6]

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