Sign in the local Optometrist's window: If you can read this sign we don't need to make an appointment.What is the difference between a cop car and a ...ineapple?On a pineapple the pricks are on the outside.Mummy, mummy, where is daddy?Shut up and keep filling in the hole.This one is compliments of DennisMURPHY'S LAWS OF COMBATYou are not a supermanIf it's stupid, but works, it's not stupid.Don't look conspicuous, it draws fire.When in doubt, empty your magazine.Never forget that your weapon was. I will be telling my story as it is. I wasn’t diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder until I was 42. More precisely I was told I was a High Functioning Autistic previously called Asperger’s Syndrome. Some autistics hate the high and low functioning labels because severe autistics can still have great talents and those at the other end of the spectrum like me have so many issues. Me, I don’t give a fuck what it’s called, it is still the same thing to me. What? It is true! I called the story. "Let's get some water on the boil. Oh Dave, this is my sister, Yvonne, and that's, Chrissy, my daughter and, George, her son. I'd introduce you to our men, but they buggered off almost as soon as we got here, probably to the bar." The beers good," I said. "But it's way too early for me." Same for us," said Yvonne. "Suppose we should just be grateful they agreed to bring us," she said with an infectious grin."Are you twins?" I asked hesitantly, aware I was getting into dangerous territory with. After switching the lights off and door bolted, I got one cup ice cream ( fig & honey) and a chocobar in a plate for us, telling him that we can share them now as I had deprived of his choice after lunch. With the A/c making a mild drone and us tucked under a single sheet, stark naked, we played with each other, kissing, pinching, pulling, licking, smooching and occasionally boob-sucking. All of a sudden, he got out of the bed fully naked (I didn’t feel vulgarity in this) only to get the.