Geoff Caple
@geoffcaple.bsky.social
Cheeky English gent washed ashore in Australia. Arrived with a pittance, still got most of it left. Retired tortoise trainer
Wife bought me a pair of those fancy, super lightweight mountaineering pants. Trouble is, I can’t remember ever climbing anything. But there’s always a first time … preferably a very small hill with a tea shop at the top
November 23, 2025 at 3:50 AM
Wife bought me a pair of those fancy, super lightweight mountaineering pants. Trouble is, I can’t remember ever climbing anything. But there’s always a first time … preferably a very small hill with a tea shop at the top
Taking Uncle Derek to the Ashes test. After decades in Oz he’s not fussed who wins. It’s all about the catering. There’ll be proper ructions if lunch and tea is only pie with sauce, and a tired, tasteless apple turnover
November 21, 2025 at 8:21 PM
Taking Uncle Derek to the Ashes test. After decades in Oz he’s not fussed who wins. It’s all about the catering. There’ll be proper ructions if lunch and tea is only pie with sauce, and a tired, tasteless apple turnover
Just back from the seniors club. Played ping pong then bought home a bag of dairy-free donuts for Uncle Derek. He muttered something about “modern diets” and “what’s wrong with a proper custard slice” - then polished off three before I’d even got my coat off
November 16, 2025 at 6:34 AM
Just back from the seniors club. Played ping pong then bought home a bag of dairy-free donuts for Uncle Derek. He muttered something about “modern diets” and “what’s wrong with a proper custard slice” - then polished off three before I’d even got my coat off
Tried joining a gym today. Receptionist sized me up, whispered “bless your heart,” and handed me a seniors club flyer: “Wednesdays, ping pong, dairy-free donuts, and a free blood pressure test.” Not sure if I’ve been rejected or gently rehomed
November 16, 2025 at 6:09 AM
Tried joining a gym today. Receptionist sized me up, whispered “bless your heart,” and handed me a seniors club flyer: “Wednesdays, ping pong, dairy-free donuts, and a free blood pressure test.” Not sure if I’ve been rejected or gently rehomed
Uncle Derek just pooed sage-and-onion stuffing on Mildred from next door’s gardenias with all the pomp and ceremony of a local councillor opening a new bus shelter. She’s now writing a strongly worded letter to her solicitor, the vicar, and the Country Women’s Association
November 15, 2025 at 4:15 AM
Uncle Derek just pooed sage-and-onion stuffing on Mildred from next door’s gardenias with all the pomp and ceremony of a local councillor opening a new bus shelter. She’s now writing a strongly worded letter to her solicitor, the vicar, and the Country Women’s Association
Uncle Derek seemed to be on the mend, until we found a melted chocolate reindeer and a half eaten mince tart under his pillow this morning. Now trying to lure him onto the bathroom scales with an Iced VoVo
November 15, 2025 at 2:43 AM
Uncle Derek seemed to be on the mend, until we found a melted chocolate reindeer and a half eaten mince tart under his pillow this morning. Now trying to lure him onto the bathroom scales with an Iced VoVo
Uncle Derek out on bail. We calmed him down with digestive biscuits and milky tea. His Knife-and-Fork Fever seems to be simmering. Just hope Mildred from next door doesn’t drop in with her pumpkin scones
November 15, 2025 at 2:38 AM
Uncle Derek out on bail. We calmed him down with digestive biscuits and milky tea. His Knife-and-Fork Fever seems to be simmering. Just hope Mildred from next door doesn’t drop in with her pumpkin scones
Uncle Derek caught shoplifting sage and onion stuffing in the early hours. Singing shanties about roast potatoes and mutton stew in the fruit and veg aisle. Pure chaos. Is it a cry for help? Any recipe suggestions gratefully received
November 15, 2025 at 2:34 AM
Uncle Derek caught shoplifting sage and onion stuffing in the early hours. Singing shanties about roast potatoes and mutton stew in the fruit and veg aisle. Pure chaos. Is it a cry for help? Any recipe suggestions gratefully received
Uncle Derek has Knife-and-Fork Fever. Slow cooking in his sleep. Eyes like tiny gravy boats. Constantly muttering about brisket and pooing sage and onion stuffing on next door’s lawn. Christmas can’t be far
November 15, 2025 at 2:29 AM
Uncle Derek has Knife-and-Fork Fever. Slow cooking in his sleep. Eyes like tiny gravy boats. Constantly muttering about brisket and pooing sage and onion stuffing on next door’s lawn. Christmas can’t be far
Peaceful morning in the garden. Sun shining, birds singing - all calm, except the rake and the hoe, still not talking after that business behind the potting shed
October 28, 2025 at 11:00 PM
Peaceful morning in the garden. Sun shining, birds singing - all calm, except the rake and the hoe, still not talking after that business behind the potting shed
Posh chap called Andy showed up in top hat and tails to view the granny flat. Wanted to downsize from his country pad. Sweating like a pizza chef in a sauna. I suggested he try Buckingham Palace
October 28, 2025 at 10:52 PM
Posh chap called Andy showed up in top hat and tails to view the granny flat. Wanted to downsize from his country pad. Sweating like a pizza chef in a sauna. I suggested he try Buckingham Palace
The weather’s been dreadful since BOM spent $3.5 million upgrading the app. One can only assume that was the forecast. Could we have the old one back, please?
October 28, 2025 at 3:26 AM
The weather’s been dreadful since BOM spent $3.5 million upgrading the app. One can only assume that was the forecast. Could we have the old one back, please?
If he’d been called ‘Jimmy’ Bond there’d be no Aston Martin - just a bloke in a gold lamé jacket and a bad hairpiece calling bingo numbers on Tight Arse Tuesday in Bognor Regis
October 28, 2025 at 1:31 AM
If he’d been called ‘Jimmy’ Bond there’d be no Aston Martin - just a bloke in a gold lamé jacket and a bad hairpiece calling bingo numbers on Tight Arse Tuesday in Bognor Regis
Left my teeth in a railway carriage. If you find them, please hand them in to Lost Property, or just pop them in and start your new life as Jack the Lad from Moonee Ponds
October 28, 2025 at 12:56 AM
Left my teeth in a railway carriage. If you find them, please hand them in to Lost Property, or just pop them in and start your new life as Jack the Lad from Moonee Ponds
It’s almost Halloween. Remember to stock up on sweets. You’ll need something to eat while hiding behind the couch with the lights off, pretending you’re not in
October 28, 2025 at 12:14 AM
It’s almost Halloween. Remember to stock up on sweets. You’ll need something to eat while hiding behind the couch with the lights off, pretending you’re not in
John Cleese turns 86 today. Could’ve sworn he was running a hotel I stayed at. I complained about the fish and he said, “Well, I didn’t catch it, did I?”
October 27, 2025 at 4:02 AM
John Cleese turns 86 today. Could’ve sworn he was running a hotel I stayed at. I complained about the fish and he said, “Well, I didn’t catch it, did I?”
It’s brass monkeys here in Perth. Walked into an empty bar - topless barmaid coughing her lungs out. Told her don’t mind me luv, put a cardigan on or you’ll catch a death of cold. She wasn’t amused. So I finished my Guinness and left
October 25, 2025 at 11:28 AM
It’s brass monkeys here in Perth. Walked into an empty bar - topless barmaid coughing her lungs out. Told her don’t mind me luv, put a cardigan on or you’ll catch a death of cold. She wasn’t amused. So I finished my Guinness and left
My friend is taking part in a social experiment - wearing an I Trust Albo t-shirt for a week. So far he’s been spat on, punched, kicked and had several objects thrown at him. Hate to think what happens when he leaves the house
September 24, 2025 at 12:47 AM
My friend is taking part in a social experiment - wearing an I Trust Albo t-shirt for a week. So far he’s been spat on, punched, kicked and had several objects thrown at him. Hate to think what happens when he leaves the house
Subsidised Ozempic? Terrific. Now what about us human coat hangers? Surely we deserve a government-funded beer and pie allowance?
September 23, 2025 at 11:51 PM
Subsidised Ozempic? Terrific. Now what about us human coat hangers? Surely we deserve a government-funded beer and pie allowance?
A South African preacher says it’s the end of the world tomorrow. Hope not - it’s our wedding anniversary and Samantha and Edwin have invited us over for a bridge night
September 22, 2025 at 6:44 PM
A South African preacher says it’s the end of the world tomorrow. Hope not - it’s our wedding anniversary and Samantha and Edwin have invited us over for a bridge night
My mate, running late for a train with severe diarrhoea. In a rush he bought new trousers and made it to the train. In the carriage he lobbed his soiled undies & trousers out the window, then unwrapped his ‘fresh’ parcel only to discover he’d bought a lady’s pink cardigan 🥴
diarrhoea.in
September 19, 2025 at 2:39 AM
My mate, running late for a train with severe diarrhoea. In a rush he bought new trousers and made it to the train. In the carriage he lobbed his soiled undies & trousers out the window, then unwrapped his ‘fresh’ parcel only to discover he’d bought a lady’s pink cardigan 🥴
Nothing like that first fart and an early morning cuppa tea
September 18, 2025 at 5:43 AM
Nothing like that first fart and an early morning cuppa tea
Trump meets King at Windsor Castle. Drizzle drizzled. People watched people watching people. Empires may fade but the circus and clowns always remain
September 18, 2025 at 12:09 AM
Trump meets King at Windsor Castle. Drizzle drizzled. People watched people watching people. Empires may fade but the circus and clowns always remain
If you’re looking for sympathy, it’s in the dictionary between shit and syphillis
September 16, 2025 at 5:30 AM
If you’re looking for sympathy, it’s in the dictionary between shit and syphillis
Every morning at breakfast, I share my egg on toast with Winston. Not once, in ten-years, has he ever said thank you. The ungrateful little sod
September 12, 2025 at 12:33 AM
Every morning at breakfast, I share my egg on toast with Winston. Not once, in ten-years, has he ever said thank you. The ungrateful little sod