A Joke

[maryportfuncity 9,991]

Paddy calls Easyjet to book a flight. The operator asks 'How
many people are flying with you?'

Paddy replies 'I don't know! Its your plane!!'

[The Happy Reaper 219]

A lorryload of SPAM has been hijacked.

 

Police are looking for a gang of hardened criminals.

[RIP Wee Jum 1,558]

[The Happy Reaper 219]

A bloke was on his first visit to a massage parlour. The masseuse was a very beautiful young lady, dressed in a white coat. Things were fine when she started on his neck and shoulders but as she worked her way down his body he started getting a bit turned on until finally he had a huge erection. The masseuse looked at the bulge in his towel, then leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Would you like a wank?"

 

"Yes, that would be fantastic!" said the man.

 

The masseuse said, "Right. I'll be back in a couple of minutes," and left the room. The bloke tried to imagine what exotic costume she had gone to change into.

 

A few minutes later the door opened slightly and the masseuse poked her head round it. "Have you finished?"

[The Happy Reaper 219]

Mr Ponsonby-Smythe got a phone call from his wife, who was in a state of panic.

"George!" she sobbed. "There's a gorilla in the apple tree in the front garden!"

"A gorilla?" Mr Ponsonby-Smythe echoed. "Nonsense, woman. Have you been at the gin again?"

"No, George," she replied. "It's a real gorilla - it must have escaped from the zoo or a circus or something. It's sitting in the apple tree growling at everyone who walks past. It's just thrown an apple at Mrs Bell from No. 23!"

"Did it hit her?" Mr Ponsonby-Smythe asked, then said, "No, never mind that. I'll come home straight away."

He drove home and, sure enough, as he pulled into the driveway he saw a huge, fierce gorilla in the apple tree. It spotted him and growled, then threw an apple at him - he only just ducked in time.

He went into the house, where his wife was nervously looking out the window from behind the net curtain. "George, what are we going to do?" she asked.

Mr Ponsonby-Smythe picked up the Yellow Pages. "It's simple, Miriam - there are bound to be professional people who can deal with this sort of thing."

He looked up 'Gorilla Catchers' but there was only one firm listed. He dialled the number and after a few rings the phone was answered. "Bloggs and Wilson, Gorilla Catchers. Bloggs speaking!"

"Good afternoon - my name is Ponsonby-Smythe. There is a gorilla in the apple tree in my garden, and I need you to come and catch it!"

"I'm very sorry, sir," replied Bloggs. "I'm afraid Wilson is off sick at the moment, so we're unable to take on any jobs."

"But this is urgent!" said Mr Ponsonby-Smythe. "It's in the tree, causing a scene - I'm sure the property values are reducing even as we speak! There must be something you can do!"

"Well..." said Bloggs. "Catching a gorilla is a two-man job, but if you're willing to fill Wilson's role then we should be able to pull it off."

"I'll do whatever it takes, " promised Mr Ponsonby-Smythe, and gave Bloggs his address.

Twenty minutes later a battered Transit van bearing the sign "BLOGGS AND WILSON - GORILLA CATCHERS" pulled up outside. The driver got out and went round to the back of the van, opened the doors, and brought out a large rifle, a set of manacles, and a vicious-looking Rottweiler dog which barked and snarled. The man came up to the front door and rang the bell.

"Good afternoon, sir. I'm Bloggs," said the man when Mr Ponsonby-Smythe answered. "I can see the gorilla in your tree - he's a big 'un, isn't he? We'd best get started right away."

"That's fine," said Mr Ponsonby-Smythe. "What do I have to do?"

"Well," replied Bloggs. "You stand there with the manacles while I climb the tree. I will wrestle with the gorilla and push him out of the tree. The instant he hits the ground, the dog is trained to leap forward and bite the gorilla's testicles. This will distract him long enough for you to put the manacles on him. Then I can load him into the back of the van and take him away."

"I understand," said Mr Ponsonby-Smythe. "But what is the rifle for?"

"That is actually the most important part of the whole operation," replied Bloggs. "If by any chance the gorilla should happen to push me out of the tree, you must instantly shoot the dog!"

[Dr. Zorders 1,269]

Today I saw a bloke dressed as Santa threatening to throw himself off the top level of a car park.

 

Christmas jumpers in June, FFS?

[Predictor 1,007]

Redacted.

I'm stealing this one!

[deadsox 890]

Mr Ponsonby-Smythe got a phone call from his wife, who was in a state of panic.

 

"George!" she sobbed. "There's a gorilla in the apple tree in the front garden!"

 

"A gorilla?" Mr Ponsonby-Smythe echoed. "Nonsense, woman. Have you been at the gin again?"

 

"No, George," she replied. "It's a real gorilla - it must have escaped from the zoo or a circus or something. It's sitting in the apple tree growling at everyone who walks past. It's just thrown an apple at Mrs Bell from No. 23!"

 

"Did it hit her?" Mr Ponsonby-Smythe asked, then said, "No, never mind that. I'll come home straight away."

 

He drove home and, sure enough, as he pulled into the driveway he saw a huge, fierce gorilla in the apple tree. It spotted him and growled, then threw an apple at him - he only just ducked in time.

 

He went into the house, where his wife was nervously looking out the window from behind the net curtain. "George, what are we going to do?" she asked.

 

Mr Ponsonby-Smythe picked up the Yellow Pages. "It's simple, Miriam - there are bound to be professional people who can deal with this sort of thing."

 

He looked up 'Gorilla Catchers' but there was only one firm listed. He dialled the number and after a few rings the phone was answered. "Bloggs and Wilson, Gorilla Catchers. Bloggs speaking!"

 

"Good afternoon - my name is Ponsonby-Smythe. There is a gorilla in the apple tree in my garden, and I need you to come and catch it!"

 

"I'm very sorry, sir," replied Bloggs. "I'm afraid Wilson is off sick at the moment, so we're unable to take on any jobs."

 

"But this is urgent!" said Mr Ponsonby-Smythe. "It's in the tree, causing a scene - I'm sure the property values are reducing even as we speak! There must be something you can do!"

 

"Well..." said Bloggs. "Catching a gorilla is a two-man job, but if you're willing to fill Wilson's role then we should be able to pull it off."

 

"I'll do whatever it takes, " promised Mr Ponsonby-Smythe, and gave Bloggs his address.

 

Twenty minutes later a battered Transit van bearing the sign "BLOGGS AND WILSON - GORILLA CATCHERS" pulled up outside. The driver got out and went round to the back of the van, opened the doors, and brought out a large rifle, a set of manacles, and a vicious-looking Rottweiler dog which barked and snarled. The man came up to the front door and rang the bell.

 

"Good afternoon, sir. I'm Bloggs," said the man when Mr Ponsonby-Smythe answered. "I can see the gorilla in your tree - he's a big 'un, isn't he? We'd best get started right away."

 

"That's fine," said Mr Ponsonby-Smythe. "What do I have to do?"

 

"Well," replied Bloggs. "You stand there with the manacles while I climb the tree. I will wrestle with the gorilla and push him out of the tree. The instant he hits the ground, the dog is trained to leap forward and bite the gorilla's testicles. This will distract him long enough for you to put the manacles on him. Then I can load him into the back of the van and take him away."

 

"I understand," said Mr Ponsonby-Smythe. "But what is the rifle for?"

 

"That is actually the most important part of the whole operation," replied Bloggs. "If by any chance the gorilla should happen to push me out of the tree, you must instantly shoot the dog!"

It's remarkable how many different incarnations there are to the same joke. The US version is a bear on the roof.

[The Happy Reaper 219]

 

Mr Ponsonby-Smythe got a phone call from his wife, who was in a state of panic.

 

"George!" she sobbed. "There's a gorilla in the apple tree in the front garden!"

 

"A gorilla?" Mr Ponsonby-Smythe echoed. "Nonsense, woman. Have you been at the gin again?"

 

"No, George," she replied. "It's a real gorilla - it must have escaped from the zoo or a circus or something. It's sitting in the apple tree growling at everyone who walks past. It's just thrown an apple at Mrs Bell from No. 23!"

 

"Did it hit her?" Mr Ponsonby-Smythe asked, then said, "No, never mind that. I'll come home straight away."

 

He drove home and, sure enough, as he pulled into the driveway he saw a huge, fierce gorilla in the apple tree. It spotted him and growled, then threw an apple at him - he only just ducked in time.

 

He went into the house, where his wife was nervously looking out the window from behind the net curtain. "George, what are we going to do?" she asked.

 

Mr Ponsonby-Smythe picked up the Yellow Pages. "It's simple, Miriam - there are bound to be professional people who can deal with this sort of thing."

 

He looked up 'Gorilla Catchers' but there was only one firm listed. He dialled the number and after a few rings the phone was answered. "Bloggs and Wilson, Gorilla Catchers. Bloggs speaking!"

 

"Good afternoon - my name is Ponsonby-Smythe. There is a gorilla in the apple tree in my garden, and I need you to come and catch it!"

 

"I'm very sorry, sir," replied Bloggs. "I'm afraid Wilson is off sick at the moment, so we're unable to take on any jobs."

 

"But this is urgent!" said Mr Ponsonby-Smythe. "It's in the tree, causing a scene - I'm sure the property values are reducing even as we speak! There must be something you can do!"

 

"Well..." said Bloggs. "Catching a gorilla is a two-man job, but if you're willing to fill Wilson's role then we should be able to pull it off."

 

"I'll do whatever it takes, " promised Mr Ponsonby-Smythe, and gave Bloggs his address.

 

Twenty minutes later a battered Transit van bearing the sign "BLOGGS AND WILSON - GORILLA CATCHERS" pulled up outside. The driver got out and went round to the back of the van, opened the doors, and brought out a large rifle, a set of manacles, and a vicious-looking Rottweiler dog which barked and snarled. The man came up to the front door and rang the bell.

 

"Good afternoon, sir. I'm Bloggs," said the man when Mr Ponsonby-Smythe answered. "I can see the gorilla in your tree - he's a big 'un, isn't he? We'd best get started right away."

 

"That's fine," said Mr Ponsonby-Smythe. "What do I have to do?"

 

"Well," replied Bloggs. "You stand there with the manacles while I climb the tree. I will wrestle with the gorilla and push him out of the tree. The instant he hits the ground, the dog is trained to leap forward and bite the gorilla's testicles. This will distract him long enough for you to put the manacles on him. Then I can load him into the back of the van and take him away."

 

"I understand," said Mr Ponsonby-Smythe. "But what is the rifle for?"

 

"That is actually the most important part of the whole operation," replied Bloggs. "If by any chance the gorilla should happen to push me out of the tree, you must instantly shoot the dog!"

It's remarkable how many different incarnations there are to the same joke. The US version is a bear on the roof.

 

Being the US, the man would just shoot it himself.

[Dead Wait 1,096]

As a result of the referendum results the former boxer will now be referred to as Chris Bank

[RIP Wee Jum 1,558]

A newlywed couple on their honeymoon prepares to see each other naked for the first time.

The husband exposes his knotted and twisted feet. He explains, "I had tolio as a child."

The wife asks if he means polio. He says, "No, it only affects the toes."

He removes his trousers and reveals deformed knees. He admits, "I had kneesles, too."

Finally, he pulls off his boxers. In shock, the woman gasps, "Oh no -- smallcox, too!"

[Paul Bearer 5,642]

Irish Remorse

 

Apology from an Irish Hospital... SUCH COMPASSION

 

DEAR MR. MURPHY,

 

We are pleased to inform you that the biopsy of the redness on your

penis showed it was not cancerous.

It was lipstick.

 

We deeply regret the amputation.

[The Mad Hatter 1,091]

What were Charles foster canes last words

Rosebutt

[YoungWillz 18,967]

A guy came up to me in the street and tried to sell me some previously unheard and unreleased Culture Club tunes. I politely declined and turned away. But then I thought 'Why not?' but when I turned back I saw the fellow simply melt away into the background.

 

Looking back I think he was probably a scammer chameleon.

[Paul Bearer 5,642]

For some time many of us have wondered just who is Jack Schitt? We find ourselves at a loss when someone says, 'You don't know Jack Schitt!' Well, thanks to my genealogy efforts, you can now respond in an intellectual way.

 

Jack Schitt is the only son of Awe Schitt. Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, married O. Schitt, the owner of Needeep N. Schitt, Inc. They had one son, Jack.

 

In turn, Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt. The deeply religious couple produced six children: Holie Schitt, Giva Schitt, Fulla Schitt, Bull Schitt, and the twins Deep Schitt and Dip Schitt.

 

Against her parents' objections, Deep Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a high school dropout. After being married 15 years, Jack and Noe Schitt divorced. Noe Schitt later married Ted Sherlock, and because her kids were living with them, she wanted to keep her previous name. She was then known as Noe Schitt Sherlock.

 

Meanwhile, Dip Schitt married Loda Schitt, and they produced a son with a rather nervous disposition named Chicken Schitt. Two of the other six children, Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt, were inseparable throughout childhood and subsequently married the Happens brothers in a dual ceremony. The wedding announcement in the newspaper announced the Schitt-Happens nuptials. The Schitt-Happens children were Dawg, Byrd,

and Horse.

 

Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left home to tour the world. He recently returned from Italy with his new Italian bride, Pisa Schitt.

 

Now when someone says, 'You don't know Jack Schitt,' you can correct them.

 

Sincerely,

Crock O. Schitt

[maryportfuncity 9,991]

Jerry Sadowitz was very vocal about people not nicking his jokes when I saw him last week - but this one is online, on his oldest commercially released video and still in the act:

 

 

“I used to think I was great in bed until I realised all my girlfriends had asthma”

[RIP Wee Jum 1,558]

We can teach kids there’s no 'I' in team, but it’s way more important 
to teach them that there’s no 'A' in 
definitely.

[Toast 14,805]

We can teach kids there’s no 'I' in team, but it’s way more important 
to teach them that there’s no 'A' in 
definitely.

 

There is now, because 'defiantly' is the new 'definitely'.

[maryportfuncity 9,991]

Why did 10 die?

 

He was in the middle of 9/11

[maryportfuncity 9,991]

Two stunningly gorgeous young women walk into a theatrical agency - one woman is African, one English

 

 

They put a music player on the floor and start an incredible striptease which ends with each using her teeth to rip off the other's pants; then they face the agent; naked except for a piece of string hanging between their legs

 

"Bloody hell," says the agent, "what do you call that act?"

 

 

"Well," says one girl, "we are the black and white menstrual show"

[RIP Wee Jum 1,558]

A guy goes into a Scottish baker's. "How much is that cake?" "A poond." "And how much is that one?" "A poond. All ma cakes are a poond!" "Oh, OK. What about that one?" "Ach, that one's two poonds." "Oh. Why's that then?" "That's Madeira cake."..

[The Happy Reaper 219]

Same guy then points to another item. "Is that a sponge cake or a meringue?"

 

The baker replies, "Naw, ye're right. It's a sponge cake."

[maryportfuncity 9,991]

From a website of cancer jokes:

 

 

Three buddies were talking about death and dying. One asked, "When you're in your casket and friends and family are mourning you, what would you like to hear them say about you?"

The first guy says, "I would like to hear them say that I was a great doctor of my time and a great family man."

The second man says, "I would like to hear that I was a wonderful husband and school teacher who made a huge difference in our children of tomorrow."

The last guy says, "I would like to hear them say LOOK, HE'S MOVING!!!"

[Rotten Ali 599]

Not my joke but...

 

STAR OF THE WEEK GOES TO THIS LONDON CAB DRIVER:

 

A devout Arab Halibut entered a black cab in London. He politely asked the cabbie to turn off the radio because as decreed by his religious teachings, he must not listen to music because in the time of the prophet there was no music, especially Western music which is the work of the infidel.

The cab driver politely switched off the radio, stopped the cab and opened the door.

The man asked him, "What are you doing?"

The cabbie answered, "In the time of the prophet there were no taxis, so, piss off and wait for a camel..."

[The Mad Hatter 1,091]

A man walks into a bar and then falls through the bars glass door.