I really can’t be that bothered but it does show a lack of consistency on their part. 
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I had a very confusing burglary last night. Thieves bypassed my garden security system, got into my spare bedroom via the loft and dismantled all of my Lego models.
I’m still trying to piece it all together.
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OK, so burglary is bad enough, but attacking one’s Lego models should be a hanging offence.
Bast***s 
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I’ve named my coffee table Van Gogh … … … … it has a bit of veneer missing!
Fetching my coat now.
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Brilliant!
Long John Silver is walking through town, and the parrot on his shoulder keeps saying, “Pieces of seven, pieces of seven.” A passer-by stops him and says, “Excuse me, but shouldn’t that be ‘pieces of eight’?” Long John Silver replies, “It’s a parroty error.”
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Nice to see another Munich man on the forum 
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Servus William!
Yes, I was wondering when I’d meet someone from Munich here. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for your posts.
Greetings from Bogenhausen,
Nigel
Roger that, greetings from over here in Schwabing
I can’t quite believe that in these days of space travel, pocket computers and vaccines for diseases that we can’t yet get rid of nits. Surely, if we put our heads together we can come up with something.
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An efficient manner of sharing nits, if nothing else 
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I think you’ve just explained the joke
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On Saturday morning, a roadie gets up early, as he has for so many Saturday morning rides, and softly slips out of the bedroom.
He dresses quietly in the next room, grabs his helmet and water bottles, and goes out to pump the tires. As the garage door opens, he’s confronted by an icy, windswept rain.
He’s ridden before in these conditions. He doesn’t like it, but when it’s Saturday morning he never misses. He ponders the dismal conditions and then retreats to the kitchen to tune a small TV to the Weather Channel.
The forecast only sounds worse. This is one Saturday when he just can’t summon the determination.
With a sigh, he slips off his shoes, quietly returns to the bedroom, undresses and slips back into bed.
There he cuddles up to his wife’s back and whispers, “The weather out there is terrible.”
To which she sleepily replies, “Can you believe my husband went riding in that crap?”
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