A: Kick his sister in the chin
No offense to the numerous hillbillies on this site
Jokes
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Copenhagen Fan
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Gillibeanz
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Sam and Jim are chatting in the pub. Sam says "Did you know Berts dead?"
"No!" says Jim "How did that happen?".
"Well he was at my house went to the bathroom, slipped on a tile and crashed through the glass shower door. Glass and blood everywhere!" said Sam
"What a terrribleway to die" says Jim.
"Wasn't that that killed him" said Sam "He hit his head on the toilet bowl and smashed it to pieces!"
"Thats an awful death" said Jim
"No! he was still alive!" said Sam "He staggered onto the landing and crashed through the bannisters and fell 2 storeys to the ground!"
"The poor bugger, his wife and kids must have been devestated" said Jim
"Wasnt that that killed him!" said Sam "He crawled across the floor and fell into the fire - set himself and the carpet alight!
"Oh my god - what a way to go!" said Jim
"Can you believe he was still alive ?" said Sam
"Well what did kill him in the end then?" said Jim
"I did!" said Sam "I shot him! - he was ruining my bloody house!"
"No!" says Jim "How did that happen?".
"Well he was at my house went to the bathroom, slipped on a tile and crashed through the glass shower door. Glass and blood everywhere!" said Sam
"What a terrribleway to die" says Jim.
"Wasn't that that killed him" said Sam "He hit his head on the toilet bowl and smashed it to pieces!"
"Thats an awful death" said Jim
"No! he was still alive!" said Sam "He staggered onto the landing and crashed through the bannisters and fell 2 storeys to the ground!"
"The poor bugger, his wife and kids must have been devestated" said Jim
"Wasnt that that killed him!" said Sam "He crawled across the floor and fell into the fire - set himself and the carpet alight!
"Oh my god - what a way to go!" said Jim
"Can you believe he was still alive ?" said Sam
"Well what did kill him in the end then?" said Jim
"I did!" said Sam "I shot him! - he was ruining my bloody house!"
COME ON YOU SPURS!!
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so lacklustre
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Gillibeanz
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A man and his wife are visiting the zoo. they stop in front of the gorillas cage and the man says to his wife "Lets have a laugh - show him your knockers and get him going". So the wife looks around to check that no one is watching and pulls up her blouse. The gorilla starts to rattle the bars of his cage.
The man then says to his wife "Now pull up your skirt and bend over and show him your arse" So she has a quick look round and does it and the gorilla starts charging round his cage and rattling the bars.
"Ok now go right up to the cage and do the same and waggle your arse in his face" says the man. She does it and the gorilla goes mad shrieking thumping his chest and charging around. Suddenly the man grabs his wife by the hair and throws her into the cage
"Now tell HIM you've got a headache!" he says.
The man then says to his wife "Now pull up your skirt and bend over and show him your arse" So she has a quick look round and does it and the gorilla starts charging round his cage and rattling the bars.
"Ok now go right up to the cage and do the same and waggle your arse in his face" says the man. She does it and the gorilla goes mad shrieking thumping his chest and charging around. Suddenly the man grabs his wife by the hair and throws her into the cage
"Now tell HIM you've got a headache!" he says.
COME ON YOU SPURS!!
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martinfoyle
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Some classic Chic Murray from the Guardian diary
-It would be inappropriate to let the mention pass without recalling Chic's account of the tight-fisted B&B landlady who asked him if he had a good memory for faces. Chic: "Yes, I do." Landlady: "Good - there's no mirror in the bathroom."
-Chic Murray is walking along the pavement. Car pulls up. Driver: "Would you like a lift?" Chic: "No thanks, I live in a bungalow."
- A hotel waitress serves a guest his breakfast. He looks at the tiny individual pot of honey and remarks: "I see you keep a bee?"
- "There's many a joke told in Glasgow that they won't laugh at in London. You know why? They can't hear it."
- "My girlfriend's a redhead. No hair, but a red head."
There's loads more here.
-It would be inappropriate to let the mention pass without recalling Chic's account of the tight-fisted B&B landlady who asked him if he had a good memory for faces. Chic: "Yes, I do." Landlady: "Good - there's no mirror in the bathroom."
-Chic Murray is walking along the pavement. Car pulls up. Driver: "Would you like a lift?" Chic: "No thanks, I live in a bungalow."
- A hotel waitress serves a guest his breakfast. He looks at the tiny individual pot of honey and remarks: "I see you keep a bee?"
- "There's many a joke told in Glasgow that they won't laugh at in London. You know why? They can't hear it."
- "My girlfriend's a redhead. No hair, but a red head."
There's loads more here.
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Who Shot Sam?
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A cowboy walked into a bar and ordered a whisky. When the bartender delivered the drink, the cowboy asked, "Where is everybody?"
The bartender replied, "They've gone to the hanging."
"Hanging? Who are they hanging?"
"Brown Paper Pete," the bartender replied.
"What kind of a name is that?" the cowboy asked.
"Well," said the bartender, "he wears a brown paper hat, brown paper shirt, brown paper pants, and brown paper shoes."
"How bizarre," said the cowboy. "What are they hanging him for?"
"Rustling," said the bartender.
The bartender replied, "They've gone to the hanging."
"Hanging? Who are they hanging?"
"Brown Paper Pete," the bartender replied.
"What kind of a name is that?" the cowboy asked.
"Well," said the bartender, "he wears a brown paper hat, brown paper shirt, brown paper pants, and brown paper shoes."
"How bizarre," said the cowboy. "What are they hanging him for?"
"Rustling," said the bartender.
The editor-in-chief of Heeb magazine asked one of his photographers to take a picture of a woman blowing a shofar. The photographer asked back, "Sure, but where are we going to get a limo?"
It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think that you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt
- M. Twain
- M. Twain
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Who Shot Sam?
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A bit vulgar, but here goes...
A newlywed couple are on honeymoon, lying in bed, about ready to consummate their marriage, when the new bride says to the husband, "I have a confession to make, I'm not a virgin."
The husband replies, "That's no big thing in this day and age."
The wife continues, "Yeah, I've been with one guy."
"Oh yeah? Who was the guy?"
"Tiger Woods."
"Tiger Woods, the golfer?"
"Yeah."
"Well, he's rich, famous and handsome. I can see why you went to bed with him."
The husband and wife then make passionate love.
When they are done, the husband gets up and walks to the telephone.
"What are you doing?" asks the wife.
The husband says, "I'm hungry, I was going to call room service and get something to eat."
"Tiger wouldn't do that."
"Oh yeah? What would Tiger do?"
"He'd come back to bed and do it a second time."
The husband puts down the phone and goes back to bed to make love a second time.
When they finish, he gets up and goes over to the phone. "Now what are you doing?" she asks.
The husband says, "I'm still hungry so I was going to get room service to get something to eat."
"Tiger wouldn't do that."
"Oh yeah? What would Tiger do?"
"He'd come back to bed and do it again."
The guy slams down the phone, goes back to bed, and makes love one more time.
When they finish he's tired and beat. He drags himself over to the phone and starts to dial.
The wife asks, "Are you calling room service?"
"No! I'm calling Tiger Woods, to find out what the par is for this damn hole."
A newlywed couple are on honeymoon, lying in bed, about ready to consummate their marriage, when the new bride says to the husband, "I have a confession to make, I'm not a virgin."
The husband replies, "That's no big thing in this day and age."
The wife continues, "Yeah, I've been with one guy."
"Oh yeah? Who was the guy?"
"Tiger Woods."
"Tiger Woods, the golfer?"
"Yeah."
"Well, he's rich, famous and handsome. I can see why you went to bed with him."
The husband and wife then make passionate love.
When they are done, the husband gets up and walks to the telephone.
"What are you doing?" asks the wife.
The husband says, "I'm hungry, I was going to call room service and get something to eat."
"Tiger wouldn't do that."
"Oh yeah? What would Tiger do?"
"He'd come back to bed and do it a second time."
The husband puts down the phone and goes back to bed to make love a second time.
When they finish, he gets up and goes over to the phone. "Now what are you doing?" she asks.
The husband says, "I'm still hungry so I was going to get room service to get something to eat."
"Tiger wouldn't do that."
"Oh yeah? What would Tiger do?"
"He'd come back to bed and do it again."
The guy slams down the phone, goes back to bed, and makes love one more time.
When they finish he's tired and beat. He drags himself over to the phone and starts to dial.
The wife asks, "Are you calling room service?"
"No! I'm calling Tiger Woods, to find out what the par is for this damn hole."
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ReadyToHearTheWorst
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I'd like to think that this is true:
Possibly the best letter ever to come out of the Inland Revenue.... Taken
from the Guardian, an actual letter sent by the Inland Revenue:
Dear Mr Addison ,
I am writing to you to express our thanks for your more than prompt reply to our latest communication, and also to answer some of the points you raise. I will address them, as ever, in order.
Firstly, I must take issue with your description of our last as a "begging
letter". It might perhaps more properly be referred to as a "tax demand".
This is how we at the Inland Revenue have always, for reasons of accuracy, traditionally referred to such documents.
Secondly, your frustration at our adding to the "endless stream of crapulent whining and panhandling vomited daily through the letterbox on to the doormat" has been noted. However, whilst I have naturally not seen the other letters to which you refer I would cautiously suggest that their being from "pauper councils, Lombardy pirate banking houses and pissant gas-mongerers" might indicate that your decision to "file them next to the toilet in case of emergencies" is at best a little ill-advised. In common with my own organisation, it is unlikely that the senders of these letters do see you as a "lackwit bumpkin" or, come to that, a "sodding charity". More likely they see you as a citizen of Great Britain, with a responsibility to contribute to the upkeep of the nation as a whole.
Which brings me to my next point. Whilst there may be some spirit of truth in your assertion that the taxes you pay "go to shore up the
canker-blighted, toppling folly that is the Public Services", a moment's
rudimentary calculation ought to disabuse you of the notion that the
government in any way expects you to "stump up for the whole damned party" yourself. The estimates you provide for the Chancellor's disbursement of the funds levied by taxation, whilst colourful, are, in fairness, a little off the mark. Less than you seem to imagine is spent on "junkets for Bunterish lickspittles" and "dancing whores" whilst far more than you have accounted for is allocated to, for example, "that box-ticking façade of a university system."
A couple of technical points arising from direct queries:
1. The reason we don't simply write "Muggins" on the envelope has to do with the vagaries of the postal system;
2. You can rest assured that "sucking the very marrows of those with nothing else to give" has never been considered as a practice because even if the Personal Allowance didn't render it irrelevant, the sheer medical logistics involved would make it financially unviable.
I trust this has helped. In the meantime, whilst I would not in any way wish to influence your decision one way or the other, I ought to point out that even if you did choose to "give the whole foul jamboree up and go and live in India" you would still owe us the money.
Please send it to us by Friday.
Yours sincerely,
H J Lee
Customer Relations
Possibly the best letter ever to come out of the Inland Revenue.... Taken
from the Guardian, an actual letter sent by the Inland Revenue:
Dear Mr Addison ,
I am writing to you to express our thanks for your more than prompt reply to our latest communication, and also to answer some of the points you raise. I will address them, as ever, in order.
Firstly, I must take issue with your description of our last as a "begging
letter". It might perhaps more properly be referred to as a "tax demand".
This is how we at the Inland Revenue have always, for reasons of accuracy, traditionally referred to such documents.
Secondly, your frustration at our adding to the "endless stream of crapulent whining and panhandling vomited daily through the letterbox on to the doormat" has been noted. However, whilst I have naturally not seen the other letters to which you refer I would cautiously suggest that their being from "pauper councils, Lombardy pirate banking houses and pissant gas-mongerers" might indicate that your decision to "file them next to the toilet in case of emergencies" is at best a little ill-advised. In common with my own organisation, it is unlikely that the senders of these letters do see you as a "lackwit bumpkin" or, come to that, a "sodding charity". More likely they see you as a citizen of Great Britain, with a responsibility to contribute to the upkeep of the nation as a whole.
Which brings me to my next point. Whilst there may be some spirit of truth in your assertion that the taxes you pay "go to shore up the
canker-blighted, toppling folly that is the Public Services", a moment's
rudimentary calculation ought to disabuse you of the notion that the
government in any way expects you to "stump up for the whole damned party" yourself. The estimates you provide for the Chancellor's disbursement of the funds levied by taxation, whilst colourful, are, in fairness, a little off the mark. Less than you seem to imagine is spent on "junkets for Bunterish lickspittles" and "dancing whores" whilst far more than you have accounted for is allocated to, for example, "that box-ticking façade of a university system."
A couple of technical points arising from direct queries:
1. The reason we don't simply write "Muggins" on the envelope has to do with the vagaries of the postal system;
2. You can rest assured that "sucking the very marrows of those with nothing else to give" has never been considered as a practice because even if the Personal Allowance didn't render it irrelevant, the sheer medical logistics involved would make it financially unviable.
I trust this has helped. In the meantime, whilst I would not in any way wish to influence your decision one way or the other, I ought to point out that even if you did choose to "give the whole foul jamboree up and go and live in India" you would still owe us the money.
Please send it to us by Friday.
Yours sincerely,
H J Lee
Customer Relations
"I'm the Rock and Roll Scrabble champion"
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Boy With A Problem
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Three tortoises, Mick, Alan and Les, decide to go on a
picnic. So Mick packs the picnic basket with beer and
sandwiches.
The trouble is the picnic site is ten miles away so it takes them
ten days to get there.
When they get there Mick unpacks the food and beer. "Ok Les
Give me the bottle opener."
"I didn't bring it," says Les. "I thought you packed it."
Mick gets worried, He turns to Alan, "Did you bring the
bottle opener??"
Naturally Alan didn't bring it. So they're stuck ten
miles from Home without a bottle opener. Mick and Alan beg Les to go
back for It, but he refuses as he says they will eat all the sandwiches.
After two hours, and after they have sworn on their
tortoise lives that they will not eat the sandwiches, he finally agrees.
So Les sets off down the road at a steady pace.
Twenty days pass and he still isn't back and Mick and
Alan are starving, but a promise is a promise.
Another five days and he still isn't back, but a
promise is a promise.
Finally they can't take it any longer so they take out a Sandwich each,
and as they are about to eat it, Les pops up from behind a rock and
shouts........
"I KNEW IT!......I'M NOT FUCKING GOING!"
picnic. So Mick packs the picnic basket with beer and
sandwiches.
The trouble is the picnic site is ten miles away so it takes them
ten days to get there.
When they get there Mick unpacks the food and beer. "Ok Les
Give me the bottle opener."
"I didn't bring it," says Les. "I thought you packed it."
Mick gets worried, He turns to Alan, "Did you bring the
bottle opener??"
Naturally Alan didn't bring it. So they're stuck ten
miles from Home without a bottle opener. Mick and Alan beg Les to go
back for It, but he refuses as he says they will eat all the sandwiches.
After two hours, and after they have sworn on their
tortoise lives that they will not eat the sandwiches, he finally agrees.
So Les sets off down the road at a steady pace.
Twenty days pass and he still isn't back and Mick and
Alan are starving, but a promise is a promise.
Another five days and he still isn't back, but a
promise is a promise.
Finally they can't take it any longer so they take out a Sandwich each,
and as they are about to eat it, Les pops up from behind a rock and
shouts........
"I KNEW IT!......I'M NOT FUCKING GOING!"
Everyone just needs to fuckin’ relax. Smoke more weed, the world is ending.
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mood swung
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Jackson Monk
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Who Shot Sam?
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Jackson Monk
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Mechanical Grace
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The telling of this one profits greatly from my brother-in-law's delivery and Dublin accent but here goes anyway..
A guy is driving around and around the block looking for a parking spot. Although it's always difficult, this time it seems just impossible. After 30 minutes of circling, the driver says aloud in the direction of the sky, "Heavenly Father, if only you'll grant me a parking spot, I'll go straight to confession even though I haven't been in ten years."
Miraculously, a spot appears immediately, and the driver again addresses heaven: "Never mind! Got one!"
A guy is driving around and around the block looking for a parking spot. Although it's always difficult, this time it seems just impossible. After 30 minutes of circling, the driver says aloud in the direction of the sky, "Heavenly Father, if only you'll grant me a parking spot, I'll go straight to confession even though I haven't been in ten years."
Miraculously, a spot appears immediately, and the driver again addresses heaven: "Never mind! Got one!"
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Who Shot Sam?
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Never got the chance to watch it, unfortunately, but I've seen bits and pieces on YouTube, including the Staring World Championships, which I love.Jackson Monk wrote:Big Train was a great show
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SWgg20IqibM
Mother, Moose-Hunter, Maverick
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Otis Westinghouse
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Am I missing something? Why does he tell God never mind when the big G has just answered his prayer? Maybe it needs the accent.Mechanical Grace wrote:Miraculously, a spot appears immediately, and the driver again addresses heaven: "Never mind! Got one!"
There's more to life than books, you know, but not much more
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Mechanical Grace
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Otis Westinghouse
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I can see it working visually, or maybee with the voice bringing it to life, but on the screen the spot's appearance is too closely linked to make the supposed fast one anything other than hopelessly unjustified. If it were filmed, he'd need to be swerving into the spot very quickly and in a way that implies he's kidding himself he knew it was really there all along.
There's more to life than books, you know, but not much more
What kind of car is he driving? I can see that it would be funny if it was a Volkswagon or maybe an old beat up Mini, it wouldnt be funny if it was something like a BMW or a Mercedes, plus I think it would be funnier if it was a Scottish accent because then it would be linking up with how the Scottish are renowned for being stingy, and if it was filmed in black and white and there was a skidding schreeching noise when he pulls into the parking space , then I think it would be hilarious.
echos myron like a siren
with endurance like the liberty bell
and he tells you of the dreamers
but he's cracked up like the road
and he'd like to lift us up, but we're a very heavy load
with endurance like the liberty bell
and he tells you of the dreamers
but he's cracked up like the road
and he'd like to lift us up, but we're a very heavy load
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Jackson Monk
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And I think it would need to be raining gently to give it that kind of sad semi-ironic feel.... and bring it beyond cliche and make it a kind of post-modern take on the futilty of the automobile as a whole in the post-industrial world. A bit like an early 21st century answer to Chaplin's 'Modern Times'..........and I disagree about the driver....it should be Mr Bean.
corruptio optimi pessima
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bambooneedle
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Osama Bin Laden sends a new message to George Bush just to mess with his mind and let him know he's still going.
It simply reads: 370HSSV 0773H
Puzzled, Bush asks his presidential aides to try and decipher the code, but they can't, so they pass it on to the F.B.I for further guidance, and, when that also proves fruitless, on to the C.I.A. But no-one can figure it out.
And then someone says "Hey, it's upside down!"
It simply reads: 370HSSV 0773H
Puzzled, Bush asks his presidential aides to try and decipher the code, but they can't, so they pass it on to the F.B.I for further guidance, and, when that also proves fruitless, on to the C.I.A. But no-one can figure it out.
And then someone says "Hey, it's upside down!"
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mood swung
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this is my husband's favorite joke.
A woman goes to an ice cream parlor and asks for a chocolate ice cream cone. The clerk apologizes and says that they are out of chocolate and asks her if she'd like to choose a different flavor.
The customer says, "Sure, just give me chocolate, please."
The clerk again apologizes, and thinking that the woman didn't hear him, says, "I'm sorry, we don't have any chocolate left. Is there another flavor that I can get for you?"
The woman says, "Well I guess I'll have chocolate."
The clerk, extremely pissed now, tells the woman, "Spell VAN as in vanilla."
The woman spells out, "V-A-N."
"Now," says the clerk, "spell STRAW as in strawberry."
The woman spells out, "S-T-R-A-W."
"Okay," says the clerk, "Now spell FUCK as in Chocolate."
The woman looks dumbfounded for a moment and proclaims, "Wait - there's no 'FUCK' in 'chocolate!'"
And the Clerk replies, "That's what I've been trying to tell you!"
A woman goes to an ice cream parlor and asks for a chocolate ice cream cone. The clerk apologizes and says that they are out of chocolate and asks her if she'd like to choose a different flavor.
The customer says, "Sure, just give me chocolate, please."
The clerk again apologizes, and thinking that the woman didn't hear him, says, "I'm sorry, we don't have any chocolate left. Is there another flavor that I can get for you?"
The woman says, "Well I guess I'll have chocolate."
The clerk, extremely pissed now, tells the woman, "Spell VAN as in vanilla."
The woman spells out, "V-A-N."
"Now," says the clerk, "spell STRAW as in strawberry."
The woman spells out, "S-T-R-A-W."
"Okay," says the clerk, "Now spell FUCK as in Chocolate."
The woman looks dumbfounded for a moment and proclaims, "Wait - there's no 'FUCK' in 'chocolate!'"
And the Clerk replies, "That's what I've been trying to tell you!"
Like me, the "g" is silent.