The worst job in the world has to be a gynaecologist, Imagine coming home from a long day at the office and your wife meets you at the door in a negligee and has a beautiful candlelight dinner set on the table, you would be saying to yourself, "Oh my, if I have to look at another one of those things today!"

A few years ago I was reading the obituaries and there was my name, even my middle name, Paul David Crawford, I told eveyone at the time that probably many people were reading the obituary, got half way through it, and then said, " Oh, damn, it ain't him at all!"

I'm the good looking one in the profile photograph !

Go figure, I was the only person in my club to not have the Intenet or E-mail, almost every meeting, it comes up that Paul is the only one without e-mail. I got a phone call one week that the meeting time was changed and I was there on time. The Chairman asked the others what the problem was, he sent an e-mail out to everyone. To a person, they all had some excuse, mainly the excuse was ,"Gee, I don't bother to check my e-mails, maybe once a week!".

This guy was lying in a hospital bed, he said to the nurse, " Gimmee a little kiss, will you?" She said, " No!" He persisted, "Aw,come on, one litle kiss won't hurt? " She again said, "No!" He wouldn't give up, " Just a little peck, that's all!" She said, " No, you don't understand, we are in a hospital, someone could come through that door at any time, I shouldn't even be giving you this hand job!"

Shearwater's 880 Squadron flew twin engine Trackers (anti-submarine) off H.M.C.S. Bonaventure, last going off, before the million dollar refit which took place about a year before the ship was scrapped and became razor blades, I was a naval aircrewman.

We had a squadron song, sung especially after "splicing the mainbrace!
(a double tot of rum),or if we "sunk" a submarine, or any other drunken excuse.


"We are 880, and we're on the ball,
we fight the "Watusi", they're seven feet tall!

Although the may eat us, they never can beat us,
For we are 880 , and we're on the ball!

Wahunga! Wahunga! Wahunga! Wa Wa!
The one and only squadron , that comes in the shape of animals,

ooooooooooowee!
ooooooooooowee!

The one and only Squadron that Comes!"

A Mountie stopped me on the way to the liquor store. He said, " Have you been drinking sir?" I said, "Yes, a friend stopped at the house earlier today with a two-four and a bottle of rum and then another friend dropped by with another quart of rum," The Mountie said," I'm going to have to give you the breathalyzer!" I said, " Why is that sir, you don't believe me?"