Nearly three weeks since my last blog eh? Why is that? I hear you cry. Well I’ve been contemplating my navel along with much gnashing of teeth and finally come to the decision not to renew my subscription to the Drama Group. Before another scribbling under the heading of Am Dram Man I thought I had better sort things out drama wise. Now bearing in mind I have been a member since 1972 this was no easy conclusion to come to.

However the group has changed so much of late and I frankly no longer enjoy it, so best to leave I reckon. It didn’t help matters receiving silly rather abusive e-mails from some vitriolic woman who hasn’t been in the group five minutes.

I did get a note from the Chairman thanking me for the last 38 years and a very nice e-mail from one Mr. Hall saying how sorry he was I was leaving. Very nice guy Mr. Hall.

When I left the committee last year after 35 years it didn’t warrant any sort of thanks from anyone so there yer go!

Anyway I think there comes a time when it’s time to go. Unfortunately Gordon Brown couldn’t see it so I don’t want to outstay my welcome like him. (Something I probably did around 1975!)

Now I fancy a future career as a reviewer. I have a couple of productions lined up so if there are any local groups out there that would like a crit of their production put on this blog, just let me know. Oh yes, Quinten Letts watch out.

Now regular readers will know one of my other passions is pub quizzes (sad I know) and after the fall of the Swan in Faringdon our Sunday Night team have had a nomadic existence trying to find another venue in which to spend an education Sabbath evening. I throw this in just in case either of my readers knows of such a venue in the immediate area of Kingston Bagpuize.

Now I’m off to look at my press cuttings and photographs, the result of 38 years in the Kingston Bagpuize Drama Group. As the curtain comes down on this illustrious career (people have got OBE’s for less you know) I comfort myself with the thought that we did make an awful lot of village folks laugh over the years and put on some cracking plays. Sigh.

Anyway, the story this week…….

A lady goes to her priest one day and tells him, "Father, I have a problem. I have two female parrots, but they only know how to say one thing."

"What do they say?" the priest inquired.

They say, "Hi, we're hookers! Do you want to have some fun?"

That's obscene!" the priest exclaimed, then he thought for a moment. "You know," he said, "I may have a solution to your problem. I have two male talking parrots, which I have taught to pray and read the Bible. Bring your two parrots over to my house, and we'll put them in the cage with Francis and Peter.

My parrots can teach your parrots to pray and worship, and your parrots are sure to stop saying .... that phrase ... in no time."

Thank you," the woman responded, "this may very well be the solution."

The next day, she brought her female parrots to the priest's house.

As he ushered her in, she saw that his two male parrots were inside their cage holding rosary beads and praying.

Impressed, she walked over and placed her parrots in with them.

After a few minutes, the female parrots cried out in unison: Hi, we're hookers! Do you want to have some fun?"

There was stunned silence.

Shocked, one male parrot looked over at the other male parrot and exclaimed, "Put the beads away, Frank. Our prayers have been answered!"