The World of Sherby57

Because I’m worth it

When a Man met a Woman

The man looked at the woman and smiled his smile.  It was the smile that he saved for smiling at women.  They bloody loved that smile.

The woman looked back across the room at the man.  She hesitated.  Should she return a smile, or not?  If she did, what kind of smile should it be?  What to do.  What to do.

The man gazed upon the woman’s expression of nervous puzzlement and took it to be a sign of rejection.  He was gutted.  That smile was usually a banker.

She decided she was going to go for it.  She looked up and beamed her beamiest smile.  The man was gone.  Shit.  She literally kicked herself.  It really hurt.

The man had only gone as far as the bathroom.  He sat on the edge of the bath and huffed and puffed a bit.  Then he realised he was being a bit of a knob, so he decided to go back downstairs.  He opened the door and the woman was there.

The woman was shocked to see the man standing there in front of her.  She manically applied her grin as to avoid any further confusion.  The man gave a sigh of relief that was epic in its relievedness.

His confidence restored, the man gestured to the woman with a jaunty nod that seemed to say, ‘Fancy a drink, love?’

She giggled.  Then she got a bit embarrassed that she had giggled, so she giggled to cover up her original giggle.

The pair of them high-fived.  This must be love.

2 Comments »

Six Legs Are Better Than Two

Jean had been single for nearly 5 years, so she couldn’t believe her luck when she first met Graham.  He was the new delivery driver for ‘Disco Dave’s Doughnut Disco’ and all the other girls in the office thought he was a hunk.  Some of the others had tried flirting with him, but he hadn’t seemed interested.

Jean became friendly with Graham after making him a cup of frothy coffee and discovering a shared love of weaving.  Still, he wasn’t going to be interested in dowdy, old Jean, was he?

It was a few weeks later that he first asked her out on a date.  At first, she thought she had misheard him and that he was offering her a date.  When she realised that he was asking her out, she felt like she was walking on air.  She could barely stop herself from genulolling and roffling all over the place.  She knew that the other office girls would be jealous, so she managed to keep it to herself.

Those early days of courtship were like a whirlwind of romance.  Graham treated her like a real lady, he bought he bags of dried fruit and countless pairs of glass slippers.  She couldn’t believe that this was happening to her, at her age, and could feel herself falling head over heels.  Her joy seemed complete when Graham admitted that he loved her and that he wanted to make her his wife.  Yes yes yes!  She was truly the happiest woman in the world.

There was a certain amount of jealousy from her work colleagues, but, on the whole, they were happy for her.  She’d had a hard life, with her concrete fingers, and she deserved some happiness.  The wedding was arranged before she almost knew it, and she trembled as she walked down the aisle, toward the love of her life.

Things started to go wrong almost immediately.  They had a lovely wedding reception, and Graham gave a touching and moving speech.  She could barely wait to get to the honeymoon suite.  Graham had insisted that they waited until their wedding night to consummate their love, and she had found this endearing, if not a little frustrating.

They went to room and she put on a brand new bri-nylon nightie in order to look as seductive as possible.  Graham went to the bathroom carrying a mysterious container that she’d never seen before, and, when he emerged, she was horrified.  He was completely covered in insects.  He told her that he loved the insects as much as he loved her, and he hoped that she would learn to love them too.  Jean ran from the room in floods of tears, her heart broken.

After calling the police, they soon discovered that Graham wasn’t even his real name and that he’d left a string of brides up and down the country, all left traumatised by insects.  ’Graham’ was never apprehended, so the next time you meet a hunky delivery driver, just beware of bugs.

4 Comments »

Love/Hate – A Poem

This is why I hate you
You smell like poo
And yet, I still love you
I don’t know what to do

This is why I love you
You smell like wee
And yet, I still hate you
Won’t you help me see?

No Comments »

Anne sind Sie meine Liebe

Hallo meine chums!

Ich bin Hans Klaussner! Ja! It really is me! I am writing this from crazy love motel within the deepest of domain of Arizona, in USA! My fortunes of travel have been under the most scrutiny, yet Hans is not speaking!! HAHAHA. Yes, you know what I mean, cheeky munchens.

Anyhoo, on to my reason of writings. My good friends at Sherby57 have been in e-mailing me to tell me news of a wondrous message left for me on my last posting – Hans Across America.  For those of you who are not in able to click my link, then here is my letter:

Hi Hans,
surely your german is better than my english, therfore I’ll change -)now:
Leider kann ich kein “Lonely Heart” bieten, da ich “Happy married” bin.
Da Du mich aber vor ca. 1000 gefühlten Jahren in München einmal ausgeführt hast und dies für mich ein sehr aufregender Super-Abend war (für Dich evtl. etwas öde) sende ich Dir auf diesem Wege liebe Wintergrüße aus Bayern.
Ich hoffe Dir geht’s gut, Anne

I am finding this most emotional. For my pals who are not speaking ‘da lingo’, I am offering my services of translation:

Unfortunately I cannot offer “Lonely Heart”, since I am “Happy married”. Since you implemented me however before approx. 1000 felt years in Munich once and this for me a very exciting superevening were (for you possibly somewhat desert) send I you in this way dear winter greetings from Bavaria.

I hope you go it well,

Anne

 

The moistness of my eye, matches only the swelling in the domain of my breast. How cruel is the blow dealt with gusto by my liebling. Why my Anne, have you been insisting in offering your sweetness, yet then be retracting it with much anger? Answer me my Anne! I implore from you your meaning of your love. It is burning within the lateness of my being. I am being corrugated beyond all recognition. (hahaha, this is only being a little Hans jokey!).

Hoping with all my decree for you to write within sundown, my Anne.

Yours hauntingly

Hans

9 Comments »

Hans Across America

Hallo!

Ich bin Hans Klaussner, and you may be remembering me from when I am introducing myself and from when I am talking about my skills as a dishwasher.  Wilkommen.

In the many days of regret since we have last been speaking, old Hansy has been promoted to the magnificent position of head washer dishes. It is moment of maximum adulation for my Momma and Poppa. They are have come to Eng-land to stay in my bed of sits to commence the festivities. Is “real hot potato” as you crazy Brits is saying.

With sadness, i must report that Herr Klaussner (that is being one-self), is still without ladylove within mine domain.  I wish with most sincerity that I am meeting England Rose, the proponent of beauty in my life. I am attending speed-date evening with my good friend Cheface (the chef), and you will be wishing us the best of bloody british, what what!

Bitte. I am now commencing my informing of you of my further plans. Poppa Klaussner, he in being my Vater, is using many Euro to pay for Hans vacation with his Uncle Sam of the U of SA! Is real! I am beginning my tour with New Yorkshire within few hours and I am hoping that are having the New Yorkshire pudding (with the gravy!). Git your butt out of the place as they may say. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

I am hoping that I am keeping you complete with my updates. Help me help you.

Brimming with man-love

Hans

3 Comments »

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 329 other followers