Happy anniversary to Jim and Jolene Jefferson who celebrate their 30^th wedding anniversary on Sunday.

Congratulations to Hopalong, who has managed to wangle a substantial payoff from his job.

In the meantime commiserations to G Man, who hasn’t.

A man is lying in bed in a Catholic hospital with an oxygen mask over his mouth. A young auxiliary nurse appears to sponge his face and hands. "Nurse," he mumbles from behind the mask, "Are my testicles black?" Embarrassed the young nurse replies, "I don't know, I'm only here to wash your face and hands." He struggles again to ask, "Nurse, Are my testicles black?" Again the nurse replies, "I can't tell. I'm only here to wash your face and hands." The ward sister was passing and saw the man getting a little distraught so marched over to inquire what was wrong. "Sister," he mumbled, "Are my testicles black?" Being a nurse of longstanding, the sister was undaunted. She whipped back the bedclothes, pulled down his pajama trousers, moved his penis out of the way, had a right good look, pulled up the pajamas, replaced the bedclothes and announced, "Nothing wrong with them!!!" At this the man pulled off his oxygen mask and asked again, "Are my test results back???"

During the wedding rehearsal, the groom approached the pastor with an unusual offer. "Look, I'll give you $100 if you'll change the wedding vows. When you get to me and the part where I'm to promise to "love, honor and obey" and "forsaking all others, be faithful to her forever," I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave that part out." He passed the minister a $100 bill and walked away satisfied. It is now the day of the wedding, and the bride and groom have moved to that part of the ceremony where the vows are exchanged. When it comes time for the groom's vows, the pastor looks the young man in the eye and says, "Will you promise to prostrate yourself before her, obey her every command and wish, serve her breakfast in bed every morning of your life and swear eternally before God and your lovely wife that you will not ever even look at another woman, as long as you both shall live?" The groom gulped and looked around, and said in a tiny voice, "Yes." The groom leaned toward the pastor and hissed, "I thought we had a deal." The pastor put the $100 bill into his hand and whispered back, "She made me a much better offer."

Although born to a Catholic family, Chester had always wanted to be Jewish. As a senior in college, he decided to take the plunge and go through the formal conversion process. He studied Judaism all semester. Finally, he felt he was ready to take the test and complete the conversion. On the appointed day, he arrived at the Rabbi's office, ready to begin. The Rabbi said, "I'm sorry, but before I give you the test, I must discuss my fee, It's $5000." "$5000!" exclaimed Chester, "That's a lot of money. How about $500?" "Congratulations, you pass." said the Rabbi.

An Englishman an Irishman and a Scotsman were in a pub, talking about their sons. "My son was born on St George's Day," commented the Englishman. "So we obviously decided to call him George." "That's a real coincidence," remarked the Scot. "My son was born on St Andrew's Day, so obviously we decided to call him Andrew." "That's incredible, what a coincidence," said the Irishman. "Exactly the same thing happened with my son, Pancake."

There's an Englishman, Irishman & Scotsman all talking about their teenage daughters. The Englishman says " I was cleaning my daughter’s room the other day & I found a packet of cigarettes. I was really shocked as I didn't even know she smokes". The Scotsman says, " That's nothing. I was cleaning my daughter’s room the other day when I came across a half full bottle of Vodka. I was really shocked as I didn't even know she drank." With that the Irishman says " Both of you have got nothing to worry about. I was cleaning my daughter's room the other day when I found packet of condoms. I was really shocked. I didn’t even know she had a willy."

A pregnant Irish woman from Dublin gets in a car accident and falls into a deep coma. Asleep for nearly 6 months, when she wakes up she sees that she is no longer pregnant and frantically asks the doctor about her baby. The doctor replies, "Ma'am you had twins! A boy and a girl. Your brother from Cork came in and named them." The woman thinks to herself, "Oh No, not my brother... he's an idiot!" She asks the doctor, "Well, what's the girl's name?" "Denise." "Wow, that's not a bad name, I like it! What's the boy’s name?" "Denephew."

Ireland's worst air disaster occurred today when a small 2-seater Cessna plane crashed into a cemetery this afternoon in central Ireland. Irish search and rescue workers have recovered 826 bodies so far and expect that number to climb as digging continues into the night.

A woman walked up to a little old man rocking in a chair on his porch. "I couldn't help noticing how happy you look," she said. What's your secret for a long happy life?" "I smoke three packs of cigarettes a day," he said. "I also do a gramme of Charlie a day, a spliff every night, a case of whiskey a week, eat junk food, never exercise, and do pills on the weekend." "That's amazing," said the woman, "how old are you?' 26 said the old man.

Joan, on an airplane, strikes up a conversation with the geeky computer programmer sitting next to her. "Where are you going?" asks Joan. "I'm going to San Jose," says the geek, "to a UNIX convention." Later, Joan's husband picks her up at the airport. "How was the flight?" he asks. "Oh, fine," says Joan. "I sat next to this guy I felt really sorry for." "Why'd you feel sorry for him?" "He didn't have any testicles." "What?!" says the husband. "And just how did you learn *that*?" "Because," says Joan, "he said he was going to a eunuchs' convention."

The wealthy old gentleman and his wife were celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary and their three grown sons joined them for dinner. The old man was rather irritated when he discovered none of the boys had bothered to bring a gift, and after the meal, he drew them aside. "You're all grown men," he said, "and old enough to hear this. Your mother and I have never been legally married." "What?" gasped one of the sons. "Do you mean to say we're all bastards?" "Yes," snapped the old man, "and cheap ones, too!"

A priest, a Buddhist and a rabbi are discussing what each would like to be said at their funeral. The priest said that he would like someone to say, "There is a man who followed the path of Jesus." The Buddhist said that he would like someone to say, "There is a man who strived for enlightenment." The rabbi said that he would like someone to say, "LOOK! He's moving!"

Hugh Hefner and Heather Locklear die and go to heaven. They are greeted by St. Peter who says to Hugh, "You have corrupted the lives of many men and boys alike with your pornography. You have only one chance to get into the kingdom of God, you must walk down that tunnel without even one unclean thought. If you do, a trap door will open up under you and you will fall into hell where you will cry and gnash your teeth." Hugh decides that this will be easy for the tunnel is only 100 feet long. So he begins down the tunnel with St. Peter following behind. About half way down the tunnel St. Peter leans over towards Hugh and yells "Tits!" and a trap door opens and Hugh falls down into Hell. St. Peter then goes to Heather Locklear and says, "You have corrupted the lives of many men and boys alike with your sexy looks. You have only one chance to get into the kingdom of God, you must walk down that tunnel without even one unclean thought. If you do, a trap door will open up under you and you will fall into Hell where you will cry and gnash your teeth." They begin their long trek down the tunnel. About half way down St. Peter leans over towards Heather and a trap door opens and St. Peter falls down into Hell.

A couple of items that have caught my eye this week, one them after being pointed in the right direction by Ricky.

BERLIN, March 4 (Reuters) - Wolfgang Wolf certainly had the right name to coach VfL Wolfsburg but the German first division club ruled that he no longer had the right results and sacked him on Tuesday. Wolf, who was expected to leave at the end of the season, was replaced by Juergen Roeber after his club dropped to 11th place in the 18-strong Bundesliga table. Former Hertha Berlin coach Roeber has been offered a three-year contract and takes over the coaching duties immediately, the club said in a statement. Roeber, 48, had been out of a job since being sacked by Hertha in February last year. In six years at the capital club, he won promotion to the first division in 1997 and took them to the Champions League second phase in the 1999-2000 season. 'In Juergen Roeber we have a coach who has demonstrated his ability in the Bundesliga and who has international experience,' said Wolfsburg's supervisory board chairman Lothar Sander. Wolfsburg, who started the season hoping to qualify for the UEFA Cup, are just five points above the relegation zone after just one victory from six games since the winter break. The club, from a small northern town that is home to car makers Volkswagen, their main sponsor, have failed to live up to huge expectations since signing former Bayern Munich captain Stefan Effenberg at the start of the season. The 45-year-old Wolf, who played for several German clubs including Kaiserslautern, joined Wolfsburg in March 1998 during the club's first season in the top flight. 'Wolfsburg will always remain close to my heart,' he said. 'They can only have success in the remaining games with a quiet atmosphere, and discussions over my future would not help.' Wolf became the fourth Bundesliga coach to lose his job this season after Andreas Brehme (Kaiserslautern), Klaus Toppmoeller (Leverkusen) and Hans Meyer (Moenchengladbach). - If G Man had told me this then I’d never had believed it

A driver thought she had run over a large Dalmatian – but it turned she had hit a drunken reveller riding his bicycle home, still wearing his fancy dress costume. The victim who was slightly hurt, told police in Nuremberg, Germany, he went to a carnival but could not remember anything until he hit the windscreen. - Could this story be any better, it contains all the major items required; injured Germans, women drivers, and drunken stupidity. Tip Top!

Here’s this week’s random reviews

Aston Villa Vs. Birmingham City on Monday night, was an entertaining piece of viewing. The football was poor, but the general activity of the match and circumstances made it entertaining viewing. Having missed the first half, which by all accounts wasn’t up to much, (no one mentioned the spitting incident) what a treat was in store for us in the second. Dublin losing the plot completely, after a tackle so late it could have been an Arriva North West train service, he objected to a few softly spoken words from the normally sedate Robbie Savage, and nutted him. He was then amazed he was sent off, and proceeded to call Robbie a cheat as he was been led off down the tunnel. Birmingham managed to score, and then Joey Gudjohnsen became the second person to make an early exit, after a tackle that was as dangerous as a bowl of Squirrel’s chilli. A brief melee broke out, and there was a mini pitch invasion during which a Villa fan ran up to Robbie Savage and offered a few words of friendly congratulations, he ran down the other end of the pitch, where he was last seen shaking hands with Peter Enckleman, before being led off the pitch. After a brief stoppage for a bout of crowd trouble the game continued, and the young Enckleman, still amazed that a fan had shook his hand instead of gesticulating he was a wanker, allowed Geoff Horsfield to kick the ball from his hands and score the second. The ref bottled it and only added 3 minutes of injury time. Then after the match Graham Taylor showed all the poise and composure that made him such a sure fire success when he was the England Manager. He came out for the after match interview, and started off by saying that he had agreed to the interview because it is important to speak to the press after a game. His next statement was he had nothing to say because what he had to say was going to be said behind closed doors, and then walked off. All in all an hour’s worth of quality viewing.

First of all the answer(s) to last week's question, Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen doesn’t mention it’s own title in the song, but it does say Mamma Mia, which was the title of the Abba hit that preceded it at number 1. There was no winner, so the prize is carried over until next week.

For this week’s competition, and in deference to the aforementioned Wolfgang Wolf, what I want is for you to send in nominations for a person who has the name that is most suited to a particular job. The winner will be the entry that in the somewhat cynical and jaded view of the editorial team is the funniest. Send the entries to the normal addresses through the normal channels.

Despite the fact that he had drank his coffee almost as soon as he had it in his hand, he had no sooner put his cup down, than a different stewardess appeared by his seat and collected his tray, that now consisted of empty wrappers, and very little else. The new stewardess, he noted, seemed even more nervous than the previous one, and was reluctant to even make eye contact with him. It suddenly dawned on him why this was, why should she risk being friendly with what was obviously the most troublesome passenger, who had managed to get himself bound to his seat, within only minutes of the plane being hijacked.

He realised that his position was a strange one, caused by his own strange sense of humour, and his somewhat bizarre ability to laugh at things that no one else would even consider to be even slightly amusing. In fact the only person who laughed at anything more inappropriate than he did was Dr. Hibbert from the Simpsons, and he was a fictional character. Despite himself he found himself laughing gently again, and only stopped when he turned to his right only to see the big boss man of the hijackers standing to his side, with a look of bemusement on his face.

"Yet again, I find you laughing at nothing in particular, you are indeed a most peculiar chap."

What was a gentle laugh now broke out into a full volume guffaw, as the imagery of the hijacker being the perfect English gentleman invaded his consciousness. Images of him being sat in a gentleman's club sipping Pimms, and saying "Splendid show old chap", rushed into his mind, and he found himself genuinely amused.

The hijacker however was not so amused, and made it clear. "Have I said something that you find amusing?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to share your amusement with me?"

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"Would you like to share the reason you have decided to hijack this plane with me?"

"Not yet, though you will find out in time, as will everyone on the plane, but only when I decide the time is right."

"Is it going to be soon, or have I got time to have another little sleep?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, I am the hijacker here, and I will be the one asking the questions, and you, strictly speaking are a hostage, and as such you will give answers to my questions."

"I have been giving you answers, but I can't be held responsible if the answers you get are not to your liking."

The hijacker eyed him warily for a few seconds, before breaking into a laugh of his own. "I think that in different circumstances that I would have liked to have known you as a friend, you have a sharp wit, and an ability to laugh that seems to be missing from most on the run of the mill types that one meets these days. However this still leads me to believe that under the current circumstances you may well be a dangerous man, and therefore I think that your free arm shall be re-bound."

He waited until the hijacker had turned round before offering his parting shot. "Excuse me, but could you tell me what the in flight movie is, and when it's due to start."

The Hijacker stopped, looked over his shoulder briefly, and then shook his head and went into the cockpit shaking his head. Almost immediately, his happy go lucky compadre arrived at his seat and started on the task of securing his free arm back to the arm of the seat. Whilst being secured he sat there smiling at the underling, which in return got a dirty look, and he was quite sure, a glimmer of hatred in the underling's eyes. Once he was fully secured the underling growled through gritted teeth at him, "Be thankful that he," indicating the big boss man, "is a patient person, if I was in charge, you would have been shot by now and dumped into the cargo holding area."

Unable to resist he responded, "You see that's why he's in charge, he has the ability to think, whereas, it would seem that you have only just about mastered the ability of learning how to speak."

The underling raised his gun, and for a split second it looked like he would get shot, however, as if realisation had suddenly dawned, the underling lowered the gun, turned quickly, and stomped off to another part of first class. He wondered just what had got into him. He hadn't recalled any death wish tendencies recently, and yet here he was antagonising hijackers, that as far as he could tell were carrying loaded weapons. With this thought, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. He was surprised to find that this was remarkably easy to do, and within a matter of moments he was asleep again.

(To be continued, probably next week, or possibly the week after….)

Pinocchio is Italian for "pine head."

In every episode of Seinfeld there is a Superman somewhere.

An animal epidemic is called an epizootic.

Why is it that rain drops but snow falls?

Why is it that when you are driving and looking for an address, you turn down the volume on the radio?

Why is the third hand on the watch called the second hand?

Ginster's finest (n).

A twat that looks, smells and tastes like an out of date Cornish Pasty.

After an extremely close call The Cherokee Hair tampons failed to make the top of the table by virtue of alphabetical order. (Trust me – by any means necessary). Elsewhere there have been the normal amount of miniature moves that happen every week. Below you will find this week’s table and the list of this month’s transfers.

Transfers.

What is up with you bunch of tits? I don’t think that a single one of the letters or e-mails that I’ve had this week has been from someone who would ever be considered as Mr or Mrs current affairs, even in the Wayne Rooney School of same heads. Now I know that postal service isn’t exactly great, but for me to be receiving letters on topics from 4 weeks ago is somewhat ridiculous. I mean, shit, even a fucking pikey could have received, been taught to read, read and replied to Surerandomality quicker than some of the Muppets and half wits I’ve received correspondence from this week.

Donations for the Rex appeal have been few and far between this week, though it does appear that you’ve taken it into your heads to have a competition to find the strangest type of donation possible. The grand total for the appeal now stands at £922.72, 45 second & 41 First class stamps, 155 euros, $33.99, 11 drachma, 71 French Francs (how they got through garlic control god only knows), 23 Swiss Francs, 34 Belgium Francs, 44 Yen, 301 Australian dollars, 2,056,179 Turkish Lira, 7 Krugerands, 45 Luncheon Vouchers, 84 Green Shield Stamps, £21.50 in postal orders, 14 Esso tokens, £25 worth of Circus Casino (Viva Las Vegas) chips, 71,000 WH Smith club card points, 18,000 Nectar points, 4 Car wash tokens, £15 worth of Argos vouchers, £2.50 worth of Mothercare vouchers (thanks for the offer but they can’t be used to buy clothes for Wallace’s latest girlfriend), £20 worth of Specsavers vouchers and £1420 worth of HMV money off vouchers, thanks to all those that have contributed, and please keep those donations rolling in. However despite the ever increasing amount of funds coming in, the trail of poor old Rex seems to be growing cold, and I am worried that the chances of finding him are getting to the stage where they might be proper fucked.

As I was saying the contributors this week haven't exactly been Mr Current Affairs and here's Mrs Claire Voyant, from Willoughby Waterleys, Leicestershire to prove the point. "I can't believe that as a rat you manage to issue this publication every week. You must have serious difficulties typing it up, with only your nose and very small paws, surely it would take ages to get it all done." Right for a second time, just for those of you out there that are suffering from learning disabilities, let me point out (again) that I was being sarcastic, and I am, in fact, not a rat. (Well, not the small furry disease carrying kind)

Meanwhile, going even further back in history, is a Mr Oleg Salenko, from St. Petersburg, Russia, who writes, "That Sidney Unit, what a complete dick. I'll tell you one thing for sure, if he was living over here and slagging off places in Russia, I'd wait till a dark night, creep up on him, and stab him in the back until he was dead." It may well be that the Russian Mafia is holding the post up, but 7 weeks is taking the piss. I will say one thing for Mr Salenko, he certainly seems to be a sneaky fucking Russian.

In the quiet words of the Virgin Mary, god, give me strength. Five weeks of creative writing seems to have made Mr Perrin think he's the next fucking Wordsworth, and I quote, "As the exquisitely lubricated slither of soap, slid out of my hand and made it's inevitable slow decent to the incalculable number of little puddles on the shower room floor, I made an effort to delicately bend". At this point I cut the narrative off, cos I really don't want to here any more of this. There's twenty seven pages of shit like this, I mean "potatoes so creamy they must have been mashed using the ambrosia of the gods". Just a quick note to all the other recent subscribers to surerandomality from Lincoln prison, please, just two little things, do not give this man any more drugs, and where ever possible do not let him within twenty foot of a computer.

What the fuck have I told you about thinking? Is it really Friday already, what the fuck happened to the week, and for that matter what the fuck happened to last weekend, I'm sure that now that I've started to work days someone has nicked a couple of days out of my week. Anyway what's going on this weekend then? Dunno, rumours have various people reportedly coming over for the weekend. Reported visitors include Paul, Phil and Little Mark, though with Southampton playing in the cup over the weekend, this last one may prove to be spurious. One definite is that G Man is having a little Swiss maid that he met whilst travelling, coming to visit him for the next week, nominally to see Manchester United Vs. FC Basel. Squirrel will be meeting up with Wes and Becky at some stage over the weekend, and there will be lots of football to view. Various dirty locations will be visited, and various tales of despair and joy will be told. See y’all next week.

TOTAL = 14

CUMMILATIVE TOTAL = 185