Albert’s favourite joke is as follows. Each day he attempts some sit-ups. He can reach about twenty before he has to give up.
But if someone comes into the room during his brief exertions he always starts counting.
‘One hundred and twenty three,’ he says as he completes his fifth sit-up. ‘One hundred and….twenty….four.’
Albert loves this joke so much he can sometimes laugh about it alone.
I get quite a few heckles when out running of an evening. I’m not quite sure why.
Here are some of my favourites.
“Run home, running man,” which I love because it makes no sense.
And then there was the very posh lady outside the restaurant who told me off for wearing shorts in winter. When I ignored her, she shouted after me, ‘You stupid arse!’
But my absolute favourite one came from a speeding car. The aural distortion of the obscenity made me chuckle as I ran.