No one wants their last words to be "Oh my God! The old gypsy woman was right..."
From my good friend Stu
Once upon a time there was a salesmen’s conference being held in New York , coincidentally on St. Patrick’s day so that the attendees could attend the celebrations there ‘for free’. There were three Italians attending who were not acquainted with the disgusting American-Irish practice of putting green colouring in their
gnat’s piss“beer” on that day. One of the salesmen was from St.Peter’s Square (Rome), one from Naples and one from that place half underwater (Venice). They went into an Irish Pub.The barman - an ex-porter who claimed to be (or not to be) a shakespearian actor “between engagements” - was thus asked by these 3 salesmen if he had any REAL irish beers (stouts). He said he had a choice of Guinness, Mackeson’s or Murphy’s stouts. The bible salesman from Rome asked him what was the difference, so the actor/barman explained : “They are all dark stouts but the Guinness is bitter and has a fine creamy head, albeit spoiled by the addition of green colouring today.” The mafiosi from Naples then asked “And the Mackeson?” Turning to the spaghetti salesman from Naples, he explained “The Mackeson’s is sweeter, a hint of caramel, with a larger head with larger bubbles in the foam, spoiled today by the green colouring too.” The third salesman asked “And the other one, is it spoiled by green colouring too?” Striking a Shakespearian pose, the porter/actor/barman turned to the Merchant of Venice
and declaimed “The quality of Murphy’s is not stained…”
As a young boy, Joe was completely obsessed with tractors. He had pictures of tractors all over his bedroom walls; he had tractor toys, tractor T-shirts, a tractor carpet, and duvet cover, the whole works. He ate, drank and slept tractors. On his 17th birthday he was thrilled to get an invitation to go to a tractor factory nearby and test-drive a brand new tractor.
His excitement was incredible as he told his family and friends. The great day came and he went to the factory for the test-drive. Unfortunately something went terribly wrong with the tractor when Joe was driving it and it flipped over, trapping and breaking Joe’s leg and fracturing his skull.
He was so upset and tried to sue the tractor company for negligence. But the company would have none of it and told there was no liability and He could get lost!
You can imagine he was very annoyed with tractors after this and vowed to shed them from his life completely and forever.
All the posters came down, the toys were given away - tractors were GONE.
Many years later, Joe went into a bar for a drink. Inside, the cigarette and cigar smoke was terrible but through it he saw a beautiful girl seated at the bar on her own. Tears were streaming down her face.
Joe asked her what was wrong and she said that the smoke was making her eyes sting and stream with tears.
With that, Joe looked around and then took a huge breath, sucking in all the smoke. He then walked outside into the car park and blew all the smoke out again. He goes back into the bar where the air is now clear and sweet and sits down next to the girl.
“That was amazing!” she said, “How did you do that?”
“No problem”, said Joe
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(more…)
A mama mole, a papa mole, and a baby mole all live in a little mole hole. One day the papa mole sticks his head out of the hole, sniffs the air and says,”Yum! I smell maple syrup!”
The mama mole sticks her head out of the hole, sniffs the air and says “Yum! I smell honey!”
The baby mole tries to stick his head out of the hole to sniff the air, but can’t because the bigger moles are in the way so he says, “Geez, all I can smell is….
Get ready…..
Are you sure you’re ready? You may never forgive me for this one… (more…)
What do orcs have for blood?
(Warning - this is a bad pun but I’ve learnt to live with them.)
This one’s for Stu
A man goes into a butcher’s shop and sees the display cabinet is held up by pigs’ trotters.
He says to the butcher, “Are those REAL pigs trotters?”
And the butcher says…
“No, they’re counterfeit!”
Mr. York’s pub was losing custom. Young locals wanted somewhere to have a dance & a DJ but he had no room. So he bought an ex-army marquee and put it on the car park. It was a great success but business tailed off in the cold weather. His son was an art student so they put in a patio heater and son painted a mural of tropical seaside scenes on the canvas. When the customers saw the result they said:
There once was an Indian whose given name was Onestone”. So named because he had only one testicle. He hated that name and asked everyone not to call him Onestone. After years and years of torment, Onestone finally cracked and said, “If anyone calls me Onestone again I will kill them!”
The word got around and nobody called him that any more. Then one day a young woman named Blue Bird forgot and said, “Good morning, Onestone.”
He jumped up, grabbed her and took her deep into the forest where he made love to her all day and all night. He made love to her all the next day, until Blue Bird died from exhaustion.
The word got around that Onestone meant what he promised he would do.
Years went by and no one dared call him by his given name until a woman named Yellow Bird returned to the village after being away for many years. Yellow Bird, who was Blue Bird’s cousin, was overjoyed when she saw Onestone. She hugged him and said, “Good to see you, Onestone.”
Onestone grabbed her, took her deep into the forest, then he made love to her all day, made love to her all night, made love to her all the next day, made love to her all the next night, but Yellow Bird wouldn’t die!
What is the moral of this story? …
OH, come on … take a guess! . Think about it .
And the moral is…
The bad and ugly king had a beautiful girl as a captive. Though her beauty shone like a thousand moons (and her moon wasn’t so bad either), the dress she was forced to wear was very unbecoming.
She waited day and night, looking out with hope out the dungeon window, searching for the knight who would free her. However, every knight was scared away by her dress, which, as i’ve said before, was very ugly.
She was crying in hopelessness when the evil king jeered, . . .
After Quasimodo’s death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed. The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up into the belfry to begin the screening process. After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided to call it a day.
Just then, an armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bell ringer’s job. The bishop was incredulous.
“You have no arms!”
“No matter,” said the man. “Observe!” And he began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon.
The bishop listened in astonishment; convinced he had finally found a replacement for Quasimodo. But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell, the armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below.
The stunned bishop rushed to his side. When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before. As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked,
“Bishop, who was this man?”
“I don’t know his name,” the bishop sadly replied, “but his face rings a bell.”
The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame. The first man to approach him said,
“Your Excellency, I am the brother of the poor armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honour his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty.”
The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless man’s brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest, twirled around, and died on the spot.
Two monks, hearing the bishop’s cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side.
“What has happened? Who is this man?” the first monk asked breathlessly.
Two tall trees, a birch and a beech, are growing in the woods. A small tree begins to grow between them.
The beech says to the birch: “Is that a son of a beech or a son of a birch?”
The birch says he cannot tell.
Just then a woodpecker lands on the sapling.
The birch says, “Woodpecker, you are a tree expert. Can you tell if that is a son of a beech or a son of a birch?”
The woodpecker takes a taste of the small tree. He replies: “It is neither a son of a beech nor a son of a birch. It is, however, the best piece of ash I have ever put my pecker in!
A news item this morning was about a local coal miner. It seems that his favorite hobby was painting, but since he couldn’t afford to buy canvasses he simply painted on the walls of his small cottage. Unfortunately, a gang of youths broke into his cottage earlier this week and defaced his paintings. Yesterday the young miscreants were charged in court with “corrupting the murals of a miner.”
Q: If all the cars in the U.S.A.were pink. What would we have?
A: A pink carnation.
Two brooms were hanging in the closet and after they got to know each other so well, they decided to get married. One broom was, of course, the bride broom and the other groom broom.
The bride broom looked very beautiful in her white dress. The groom broom was handsome and suave in his tuxedo. The wedding was lovely. After the wedding at the wedding dinner, the bride broom leaned over and said to the groom broom, ” I think I am going to have a little whisk Broom!”
“Impossible !!” said the groom broom.
Joe worked for the railroad as a conductor.
Joe was walking through the train, en route, collecting tickets from the passengers. He comes to car 12, booth 3. In it was a man.
So, Joe asked him for his ticket: “Excuse me sir, do have your ticket?”
“Oh, I am soooo sorry, I dropped it out the window by accident,” he replied.
“Sorry sir, can’t have any passengers without tickets.” Joe grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and threw him out of the train. Well, the man landed on the tracks and was run over by the train. Naturally, Joe the conductor was arrested and thrown in jail. He was convicted of murder before a jury of his peers, and sentenced to death by electrocution.
The day of Joe’s execution came up, and he was asked what he would like for his last meal. So Joe asks for a banana. They gave it to him, he ate it, received his last rites, and was escorted to the chair. The executioner strapped him in, hooked everything up. Last, he threw the big switch once, and nothing happened. So, he did it again, and nothing happened. Well, by law the Joe conductor was legally dead, so they had to release him.
Oddly enough, Joe got a job on another railroad, as a conductor! One day, he was gathering tickets, and came to a booth with a little boy. “Young man, do you have your ticket?”, asked Joe the conductor.
“A-a-a, I’m sorry, I ate it by mistake..”, said the little boy.
And.. the same thing happened. The boy was thrown off the train and killed. Joe was arrested, sentenced to death by electrocution. It came to his last day. The death row guard asked him what he would like for his meal. Joe asked for banana again. He ate it, and a priest gave him last rites.
Joe was escorted to the death chamber. This time, though, they were smart. They washed Joe’s hands to get rid of any banana slime, they washed up the chair. Next, they placed Joe the chair, and hooked him up. The executioner pulled the switch once, and nothing happened. He then pulled it twice, and nothing happened, not even a single hair raising on the Joe’s chest.
Well, as the law says, they had to let him go…
Even more amazingly, Joe got a job as a conductor on yet another railroad.
This time it was a rabbi. Same old stuff. Rabbi had no ticket (he forgot to buy it). Joe threw him off the train, the rabbi died and Joe was arrested, convicted,sentenced to death by electrocution.
When the guard asked Joe what he would like for a last meal, he asked for a banana. Joe ate it, received last rites, and was escorted to the chamber. However, this time the officials were going to get it right! They scrubbed Joe’s body with a brillo pad. They scrubbed the chair with steel wool. They tried the chair on a few other prisoners…
Then they strapped Joe in, and threw the switch once. Nothing happened. Threw the switch a second time, nothing happened. At this point Joe was legally dead, etc, etc.
But, before Joe could leave, the executioner, extremely frustrated (he’d seen this same guy three times already). asked, “What is it with the banana?!”
Joe replied, “I just like bananas.”
So, the executioner screamed, “THEN HOW COME YOU DON’T DIE!!!!!”
Way down upon the Mississippi, two tugboat captains who had been friends for years, would always cry “Aye!” and blow their whistles whenever they passed each other.
A new crewman asked his boat’s mate, “What do they do that for?”
The mate looked surprised and replied,
An airplane full of a shipment of Pepsi flying over Africa had a crash.
A few weeks later, Pepsi Company sent a rescue plane.
They searched the area and found a tribe of cannibals. They walked up to the Chief of the tribe and asked him if he knew anything about the crash.
The Chief said, “Yeah.” When asked where the crew was, the Chief replied, “We ate the crew, and we drank the Pepsi.”
The Rescue crew were shocked. One man asked, “Did you eat their legs?” The chief replied, “We ate their legs, and we drank the Pepsi”
Another rescuer asked, “Did you eat their arms?” The Chief said, “We ate their arms, and we drank the Pepsi.”
After looking totally perplexed for a minute, a third asked, “Did you…..you know…. eat their… ‘things’??”
The chief says, “No.”
“No?” asked the rescuer.
In the dead of summer a fly was resting on a leaf beside a lake. A hot, dry fly who said to no one in particular,
“Gosh…if I go down three inches…I wil feel the mist from the water and I will be refreshed.”
There was a fish in the water thinking,
“gosh…if that fly goes down three inches I can eat him.”
There was a bear on the shore thinking,
” gosh…if that fly goes down three inches…that fish will jump for the fly…and I will eat him.”
It also happened that a hunter was farther up the bank of the lake preparing to eat a cheese sandwich.
“Gosh,” he thought, “if that fly goes down three inches…and that fish leaps for it…that bear will expose himself and grab for the fish. I’ll shoot the bear and have a proper lunch.”
You probably think this is enough activity for one bank of a lake, but I can tell you there was more.A mouse by the hunter’s foot was thinking,
” gosh…if that fly goes down three inches…and that fish jumps for that fly …and that bear grabs for that fish…the dumb hunter will shoot the bear and drop his cheese sandwich, and I’ll eat the sandwich.
A cat lurking in the bushes took in this scene and thought, as was fashionable to do on the banks of this particular lake around lunch time
“gosh…if that fly goes down three inches…and that fish jumps for that fly… and that bear grabs for that fish.. and that hunter shoots that bear…and that mouse makes off with the cheese sandwich…. then I can have mouse for lunch.”
The poor fly is finally so hot and so dry that he heads down for the cooling mist of the water.
* The fish swallows the fly…
* The bear grabs the fish…
* The hunter shoots the bear…
* The mouse grabs the cheese sandwich…
* The cat jumps for the mouse…
* The mouse ducks…v
* The cat falls into the water and drowns.
The moral of the story is:
A guy has spent five years traveling all around the world making a documentary on Native dances. At the end of this time, he has every single native dance of every indigenous culture in the world on film. He winds up in Australia, in Alice Springs, so he pops into a pub for a well earned beer.
He gets talking to one of the local Aborigines and tells him about his project. The Aborigine asks the guy what he thought of the “Butcher Dance.”
The guy’s a bit confused and says “Butcher Dance? What’s that?”
“What? You no see Butcher Dance?”
“No, I’ve never heard of it.”
“Oh mate. You crazy. How you say you film every native dance if you no see Butcher Dance?”
“Ummmm. I got a corroborree on film just the other week. Is that what you mean?”
“No, no, not corroborree. Butcher Dance much more important than corroborree.”
“Oh, well how can I see this Butcher Dance then?”
“Mate, Butcher Dance right out bush. Many days travel to go see Butcher Dance.”
“Look, I’ve been everywhere from the forests of the Amazon, to deepest darkest Africa, to the frozen wastes of the Arctic filming these dances. Nothing will prevent me from recording this one last dance.”
“OK, mate. You drive north along highway towards Darwin. After you drive 197 miles, you see dirt track veer off to left. Follow dirt track for 126 miles ’til you see big huge dead gum tree - biggest tree you ever see. Here you gotta leave car, coz much to rough for driving. You strike out due west into setting sun. You walk 3 days ’til you hit creek. You follow this creek to Northwest. After 2 days you find where creek flows out of rocky mountains. Much too difficult to cross mountains here though. You now head south for half day ’til you see pass through mountains. Pass very difficult, very dangerous. Take 2, maybe 3 days to get through rocky pass. When through, head north-west for 4 days ’til reach big huge rock - 20 ft high and shaped like man’s head. From rock, walk due west for 2 days and you find village. Here you see Butcher Dance.”
So the guy grabs his camera crew and equipment and heads out. After a couple of hours he finds the dirt track. The track is in a shocking state and he’s forced to crawl along at a snails pace and so he doesn’t reach the tree until dusk and he’s forced to set up camp for the night.
He sets out bright and early the following morning. His spirits are high and he’s excited about the prospect of capturing on film this mysterious dance which he had never heard mention of before. True to the directions he has been given, he reaches the creek after three days and follows it for another two until they reach the rocky mountains.
The merciless sun is starting to take its toll by this time and his spirits are starting to flag, but wearily he trudges on until he finds the pass through the hills - nothing will prevent him from completing his life’s dream. The mountains prove to be every bit as treacherous as their guide said and at times they almost despair of getting their bulky equipment through. But after three and a half days of back breaking effort they finally force their way clear and continue their long trek.
When they reach the huge rock, four days later, their water is running low and their feet are covered with blisters but they steel themselves and head out on the last leg of their journey. Two days later they virtually stagger into the village where the natives feed them and give them fresh water and they begin to feel like new men. Once he’s recovered enough, the guy goes before the village chief and tells him that he has come to film their Butcher Dance.
“Oh mate. Very bad you come today. Butcher Dance last night. You too late. You miss dance.”
“Well, when do you hold the next dance?”
“Not ’til next year.”
“Well, I’ve come all this way. Couldn’t you just hold an extra dance for me, tonight?”
“No, no, no! Butcher Dance very holy. Only hold once a year. If hold more, gods get very angry and destroy village! You want see Butcher Dance you come back next year.” The guy is devastated, but he has no other option but to head back to civilization and back home.
The following year, he heads back to Australia and, determined not to miss out again, sets out a week earlier than last time. He is quite willing to spend a week in the village before the dance is performed in order to ensure he is present to witness it.
However, right from the start things go wrong. Heavy rains that year have turned the dirt track to mud and the car gets bogged every few miles, finally forcing them to abandon their vehicles and slog through the mud on foot almost half the distance to the tree. They reach the creek and the mountains without any further hitch, but halfway through the ascent of the mountain they are struck by a fierce storm which rages for several days, during which they are forced to cling forlornly to the mountainside until it subsides. It would be suicide to attempt to scale the treacherous paths in the face of such savage elements.
Then, before they have traveled a mile out from the mountains, one of the crew sprains his ankle badly which slows down the rest of their journey to the rock and then the village enormously. Eventually, having lost all sense of how long they have been travelling, they stagger into the village at about 12:00 noon.
“The Butcher Dance!” gasps the guy. “Please don’t tell me I’m too late!”
The chief recognizes him and says “No, white fella. Butcher Dance performed tonight. You come just in time.”
Relieved beyond measure, the crew spend the rest of the afternoon setting up their equipment - preparing to capture the night’s ritual on celluloid As dusk falls, the natives start to cover there bodies in white paint and adorn themselves in all manner of bird’s feathers and animal skins. Once darkness has settled fully over the land, the natives form a circle around a huge roaring fire. A deathly hush descends over performers and spectators alike as a wizened old figure with elaborate swirling designs covering his entire body enters the circle and begins to chant. Some sort of witch doctor or medicine man, figures the guy and he whispers to the chief “What’s he doing?”
“Hush” whispers the chief. “You first white man ever to see most sacred of our rituals. Must remain silent. Holy man, he asks that the spirits of the dreamworld watch as we demonstrate our devotion to them through our dance and, if they like our dancing, will they be so gracious as to watch over us and protect us for another year.”
The chanting of the Holy man reaches a stunning crescendo before he removes himself from the circle. From somewhere the rhythmic pounding of drums booms out across the land and the natives begin to sway to the stirring rhythm. The guy is becoming caught up in the fervour of the moment himself. This is it. He now realizes beyond all doubt that his wait has not been in vain. He is about to witness the ultimate performance of rhythm and movement ever conceived by mankind.
The chief strides to his position in the circle and, in a big booming voice, starts to sing:
The church steeple in Port Gibson is very high and was being painted on a rather hot day. The painter was about half way down and, as the steeple was widening out, was taking more paint. The painter felt that he might not have enough paint to finish. Since he was hot and tired, and did not care to make another trip to the ground, he decided to stretch the amount of paint by adding some paint thinner to it. When finished, he lowered himself to the ground and went about cleaning up. Then he looked up to see the results of his work and noted that the area with the thinned paint looked decidedly different. He was pondering about what to do about it when the sky turned dark and there was a lightning flash and loud thunderclap. Then in a loud, booming voice from the sky came the words,
Far away in the tropical waters of the Carribbean, two prawns swiming around in the sea, one called Justin and the other called Christian. Prawns were constantly being harried and threathened by sharks that patrolled the area.
Justin said to Christian, “I’m bored and frustrated being a prawn I wish I was a shark, I wouldnt have any worries about being eaten then”.
Later, in a tropical storm, a flash of lighting and at the moment his mind was on becoming a predator, Justin turns into a shark. Horrified Christian swims away afraid of being eaten.
Time went on and Justin finds he is getting lonely being a shark. All his old mates just swim away when he gets close, Justin hardly realising his new menacing appearance was the cause of his sad plight.
In the next year of tropical storms, he thinks that the same lightning force could change him back. Lightnening never strikes twice, except in stories like these. Thinking “I wish I was a prawn” a simultaneous flash of lighting strikes him and he turns back into a prawn.
With tears of joy in his little tiny eyes he swims to his old friends and buys them all a cocktail. Looking around the gathering on the reef he looks for his old pal. “Wheres Christian?”, he asks. They reply that he’s at home, distraught that his best friend had turned sides and become his enemy.
Eager to put things straight again and end the mutual pain and torture, he sets out to Christian’s house. As he opens the coral gate, the memories come flooding back. He bangs on the door and shouts; “Its me Justin, your old friend, come out and see me again”.
To which Christian replies; “No way man, you’ll eat me, you’re a shark, I will not be tricked”.
Justin cries back “no I’m not, that was the old me, I’ve changed…………..
You know that all potatoes have eyes. Well, Mr. and Mrs. Potato had eyes for each other, and finally they got married, and had a little sweet potato, whom they called ‘Yam’.
Of course, they wanted the best for Yam. When it was time, they told her about the facts of life. They warned her about going out and getting half-baked, so she wouldn’t get accidentally mashed, and get a bad name for herself like ‘Hot Potato’, and end up with a bunch of TaterTots. Yam said not to worry, no Spud would get her into the sack and make a rotten potato out of her! But on the other hand she wouldn’t stay home and become a Couch Potato, either. She would get plenty of exercise so as not to be skinny like her shoestring cousins.
When she went off to Europe, Mr. and Mrs. Potato told Yam to watch out for the Hard Boiled guys from Ireland. And the greasy guys from France called the French Fries. And when she went out west, to watch out for the Indians so she wouldn’t get scalloped. Yam said she would stay on the straight and narrow and wouldn’t associate with those high class Yukon Golds, or the ones from the other side of the tracks who advertise their trade on all the trucks that say, ‘Frito Lay.’
Mr. and Mrs. Potato sent Yam to Idaho P.U. (that’s Potato University) so that when she graduated she’d really be in the Chips.
But in spite of all they did for her, one day Yam came home and announced she was going to marry Tom Brokaw. Tom Brokaw! Mr. and Mrs.Potato were very upset. They told Yam she couldn’t possibly marry Tom Brokaw because he’s just a…
A man is waiting for wife to give birth. The doctor comes in and informs the dad that his son was born without torso, arms or legs. The son is just a head! But the dad loves his son and raises him as well as he can, with love and compassion. After 21 years, the son is old enough for his first drink. Dad takes him to the bar, tearfully tells the son he is proud of him and orders up the biggest, strongest drink for his boy. With all the bar patrons looking on curiously and the bartender shaking his head in disbelief, the boy takes his first sip of alcohol. Swoooop! A torso pops out!
The bar is dead silent; then bursts into a whoop of joy.
The father, shocked, begs his son to drink again.
The patrons chant “Take another drink”!
The bartender still shakes his head in dismay. Swoooop! Two arms pop out.
The bar goes wild. The father, crying and wailing, begs his son to drink again.
The patrons chant “Take another drink”!
The bartender ignores the whole affair.
By now the boy is getting tipsy, and with his new hands he reaches down, grabs his drink and guzzles the last of it.
Swoooop! Two legs pop out.
The bar is in chaos. The father falls to his knees and tearfully thanks God. The boy stands up on his new legs and stumbles to the left….Then to the right….right through the front door, into the street, where a truck runs over him and kills him instantly.The bar falls silent. The father moans in grief.
The bartender sighs and says…
How Do You Catch A Unique Rabbit?
Unique Up On It.
How Do You Catch A Tame Rabbit?
Tame Way, Unique Up On It.
How Do Crazy People Go Through The Forest?
They Take The Psycho Path.
What Do Fish Say When They Hit A Concrete Wall?
Dam!
What Do Eskimos Get From Sitting On The Ice Too Long?
Polaroid’s
What Do You Call A Boomerang That Doesn’t Work?
A Stick.
What Do You Call Cheese That Isn’t Yours?
Nacho Cheese.
What Do You Call Santa’s Helpers?
Subordinate Clauses.
What Do You Call Four Bullfighters In Quicksand?
Quattro Sinko.
What Do You Get From A Pampered Cow?
Spoiled Milk.
What do you call a cow who has just given birth?
De-Caffinated.
What Do You Get When You Cross A Snowman With A Vampire?
Frostbite.
What Lies At The Bottom Of The Ocean And Twitches?
A Nervous Wreck.
Where do you find a dog with no legs?
Right Where You Left Him.
Why Do Gorillas Have Big Nostrils?
Because They Have Big Fingers.
Why Don’t Blind People Like To Sky Dive?
Because It Scares The Dog.
What Kind Of Coffee Was Served On The Titanic?
Sanka.
Why Did Pilgrims’ Pants Always Fall Down?
Because They Wore Their Belt Buckle On Their Hat.
What’s The Difference Between A Bad Golfer And A Bad Skydiver?
A Bad Golfer Goes, Whack, Dang!
A Bad Skydiver Goes Dang! Whack.
What Do You Call Skydiving Lawyers?
Skeet.
How are an Arkansas Tornado And A Tennessee Divorce The Same?
Somebody’s Gonna Lose A Trailer!
There’s these two French Legionnaires in the desert, and they’ve been separated from their unit and are lost. They’ve been wandering for several days without food and water and are nearly resigned to the fact that they will soon die from dehydration when, as they reach the top of a sanddune, they see a big, bustling market laid out before them.
Naturally, they can’t believe their eyes and think it’s a mirage, but as they draw closer, they can hear the stall holders’ cries and they eventually reach the market and realise that it’s really there. So the legionnaires rush up to the first stall they can and cry to the stall holder, “Stall holder, we have been travelling in the desert for many days, and have had no food or water. We shall surely die soon unless you have some which you can sell us - tell us, do you have any sustenance for us?”
The stall holder shook his head and replied “I’m sorry, French legionnaire-type people, but all I have to sell is a load of bowls full of jelly, topped with custard and cream, and lovingly sprinkled with hundreds and thousands of multi coloured little sweet bits.”
The legionnaires look at each other, mildly surprised, and move on to the next stall, where they ask the stall holder, “Mr purveyor of fine foodstuffs and the like, we have been travelling through the desert for days, deprived of the necessary beverages and foodstuffs which are required for survival. We shall surely die soon, unless you can sell us some skins of water.”
The stall holder looked at them, embarrassed, and confessed, “Gentlemen, tragic as I admit it is, I have none of the ingredients necessary to life for which you ask me, all I have to sell is this large bowl of jelly topped with custard and cream and sprinkled with hundreds and thousands of multi-coloured sweet bits, with a little cocktail cherry in the middle at the top - there,” he said, pointing out the glace cherry. “I cannot help you..”
The legionnaires look at each other in desperation, and run on to the next stall, where they demand of the stall holder, “Look mate,”(cos they’d stopped talking funny all of a sudden) “we need water or we’ll die. We’ve been travelling without water for days and need some now. Do you have any you can sell us?”
The stall holder looked at his curl-ended shoes in shame as he confessed, “Sorry, fellas, all I have to sell you is a bowl of jelly, with custard, cream and hundreds and thousands of little multi-coloured sweet bits. I can’t help you. I’ll have to condemn you to a long and lingering death through dehydration.”
The legionnaires were really worried by this point, and they went through the market, stall by stall, asking each stall holder whether they had any water they could sell them, and thus save their lives, but each stall holder gave the same reply, all they had to sell was a bowl of jelly with cream, custard and hundreds and thousands of ulti-coloured little sweet bits.
Dejected and resigned to their grim fate, the legionnaires left the desert market and walked off into the setting sun. As they did so, one turned to the other and said, “That was really odd - a big market in the middle of nowhere, and all they sold was bowls of jelly with custard, cream and hundreds and thousands of multi-coloured little sweet bits.”
An Indian chief sends his son off to college. The son comes home with an electrical engineering degree.
The first thing that the chief wants his son to do is to install electric lights in the outhouse as there are too many people stumbling around in the dark. The son installs the lights and is therefore known as the first Indian to wire ahead for a reservation.