Many years ago a coach driver was given the job of taking a group of blind students on a daytrip to Brighton during the summer. The day was a success in that the weather was hot and sunny, no one got lost and everyone enjoyed themselves. On the return journey home to London on the old A23 highway one of the students tapped him on the shoulder and asked if it would be possible to stop for a drink at a pub just outside of Horsham where they had been before and were looked after very well.

The driver agreed to stop, providing the pub landlord had no objections to serving a coach load of 40 people at such short notice.

On arriving at the pub the driver spoke to the pub landlord who agreed to serve the party and suggested that in order to prevent congestion at the bar the party should sit out in the beer garden where their drinks requirements would be taken care of by a waitress. There were no objections to this arrangement and the party moved outside to the garden where they were duly served.

The spokesman for the students approached the driver and advised that when they had stopped here on previous occasions it was usual to have a game of football at the bottom end of the large beer garden. The driver had no objection to this but wondered how they, as sightless people, would be able to keep in contact with a football without knowing where it was at any given moment. He was reassured by the spokesman that they were carrying a football which had a bell inside and with their finely tuned hearing it would allow them to pinpoint the ball with some accuracy during the game.

After ensuring that everyone in the party had received their drinks, the driver returned to the bar to enjoy a quiet pint or two away from the noisy students. (No breathalysers in those days). After about an hour the waitress sought out the driver in the bar and told him that his party were causing trouble in the beer garden and would he come and sort them out. Wondering how the previously well- behaved students had now turned into troublemakers he asked the waitress for details. She was unsure how it all started but counted 22 men kicking the sh*t out of the Morris Dancers who had just arrived to give a performance of traditional dancing. The end to what would have otherwise been a perfect day.

TooFastTim,I cant see where your going with this one.

Is this regarded as quality humour down your way

*sighs*

TooFastTim,I cant see where your going with this one.

It's a rather short sighted viewpoint, if you look on the broader scale it's quite an envisioned joke........

I'll get me coat

I thought blind Freddy would have seen the funny side to this.

This is a picture of Tim with the New Zealand TdN Team practicing their Morris Dance moves. It turns out the New Zealand All Blacks Rugby team would not allow them to do a Hakka so this is what they came up with.

Them must be bells on the knickers, duh! Are they doing a tour?