Had to Google trebucket 
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The word comes from the early roots of the concept, a wooden bucket tied to the end of a tree.
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Not actualy a joke. A true state of affairs for @keets from tomorrow.
Shades of “how a missile navigates”
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We just picked up some piglets just outside Abergavenny, it’s about a 90 minute journey.
The boss was driving and this subject came up.
Total confusion was the result of our conversations. There’s doesn’t seem to be any clear indication…
According to the BBC article:
The law will change the speed limit on about 35% of Welsh roads where lamp-posts are no more than 200 yards (183m) apart.
Oh, ok. “On about” that’s a great help.
I am so happy that I can happily measure distances between lamposts when I’m travelling in a moving vehicle at either 20 or 30mph. 
I’m wondering if I can use a grease pencil and create some kind of sight on the side windows, or use my woodworking skills and invoke my inner dambuster and hold up a wooden sight to work out if the gap is 200 yards between the posts, to then adjust my speed.
There are not enough facepalms.
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Hmmm. You weren’t in a black discovery 3 were you? I passed on on the M4 by Magor and the guy driving had a livestock trailer and stared for ages at my signwriting on my hilux.
I doubt it was you but how cool would it be
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Sadly not, that must have been your stalker.
Our Hilux is postbox red and has two identical “lady dents” just behind the rear wheels. This is where the better half forgot she had the livestock trailer on when she met someone on a single track road and decided she could quickly reverse to the gateway she’d just past.
I’m still amazed the hitch didn’t snap off.
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I to put a backbox and tailpipe on mine the other day. £300! I nearly fainted
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Never heard the term, but I knew immediately what it meant. My wife has done one or two of these in her time. I (mostly) stopped that sort of thing after I turned 18. 
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A group of officers were at the bar in the mess (O Club) and discussing their prowess with the ladies.
A young Lieutenant opined that making love, as fun as it is, was still 20% work.
The Captain piped up, “Incorrect. I would contend that making love is 50% fun and 50% work”.
The Colonel said. “Gentlemen, this conversation is normally beneath me but you are both wrong. Making love is 80% work and only 20% fun”.
Unable to come to an agreement, they decide to ask the young steward serving behind the bar.
“Private” says the Colonel. “You need to settle an argument, I say that making love is 80% work and 20% fun, that Captain says it is 50/50 and the Lieutenant says it is 80% fun and only 20% work”.
The Private thinks for a moment and says:
“Sir, you are all wrong. Making love must be 100% fun because if there was any work involved you would have me do it for you”.
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As I make my plans to see the Parade live once again after several decades… Let us all never forget the day Barney died…!
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I see the police eventually stepped in and finished him off. It was the humane thing to do
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On their way to get married, a young Catholic couple was involved in a fatal car accident.
The couple found themselves sitting outside the Pearly Gates waiting for St. Peter to process them into Heaven.
While waiting they began to wonder; could they possibly get married in Heaven?
When St. Peter arrived, they asked him if they could get married in Heaven.
St. Peter said,
“I don’t know. This is the first time anyone has asked. Let me go find out,” and he left.
The couple sat and waited for an answer… for a couple of months.
While they waited, they discussed the pros and cons. If they were allowed to get married in Heaven, should they get married, what with the eternal aspect of it all?
“What if it doesn’t work? Are we stuck in Heaven together forever?”
Yet another month passed before St. Peter finally returned, looking somewhat bedraggled.
“Yes,” he informed the couple, “You can get married in Heaven.”
“Great!” said the couple.
“But we were just wondering; what if things don’t work out? Could we also get a divorce in Heaven?”
St. Peter, red-faced with anger, slammed his clipboard on the ground.
“What’s wrong?” asked the frightened couple.
“OH, COME ON!” St. Peter shouted.
"It took me 3 months to find a priest up here! Do you have ANY idea how long it’ll take to find a lawyer?!
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