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Another Friday, here are some items to bring a smaile as the weekend approaches and for Nelly to take to the Plaza , , ,
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Some humour . . .
It's the year 4020 and the ’MP’s’ are enacting an ancient
ritual in ’Parliament’ of ’Downvoting the Theresa May Deal’.
They chant the holy words ”No Deal” and ”Brexit” as an
effigy of ’The PM’ is burned at the stake.
No one can remember how this ancient tradition began or what
it means.
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Worried because they hadn’t heard anything for days from the
widow in the neighbouring apartment, Mrs. Silver said to her son, “Timmy, would
you go next door and see how old Mrs. Kirkland is?”
A few minutes later, Timmy returned.
“Well,” asked Mrs. Silver, “is she all right?”
“She’s fine, except that she’s angry at you.”
“At me?” the woman exclaimed. “Whatever for?”
“She said It’s none of your business how old she is.”
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Two lawyers went into a diner and ordered two drinks.
Then they produced sandwiches from their briefcases and
started to eat.
The owner became quite concerned and marched over and told
them, “You can't eat your own sandwiches in here!” The lawyers looked at each
other, shrugged their shoulders and then exchanged sandwiches.
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From the vault . . .
(This is a variation on the classic “fucker fish/dam fish”
joke but a goodie nonetheless.)
The Archbishop of Canterbury is out having a meal with the
Deacon of the Church of England. The waiter arrives, and asks for their orders.
"I'll have a bloody steak”, says the Deacon.
On hearing this, the Archbishop nearly fell off his seat.
"This is a high class establishment,” he says,
"You can't go using language like that!"
The Deacon smiles, and says "Oh no, Archbishop. A
bloody steak is the house specialty. It means extra rare."
"Ahh!" says the Archbishop, and orders the same.
Next week the Pope visits and the Archbishop takes him out
to the same restrant. The waiter arrives and the Archbishop thinks he'll
impress the Pope.
"I'll have the bloody steak,” he says to the waiter.
"Me too", says the Pope, "And plenty of
fucking chips!"
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Gallery . . .
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Limerick of the Week . . .
Said a man to his spouse in East Sydenham,
“My best trousers! Now where have you hydenham?
It is perfectly true
They were not very new
But I foolishly left half a quidenham.”
(For the benefit of US readers, a “quid” is Brit slang (and
Oz slang before we went decimal in 1966) for the pound unit of currency.)
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Corn Corner . . .
Was having dessert at a relative's house in America.
I complimented "This is good. A dessert pie filled with
blueberry jam".
"Actually, it's Jell-O," she said.
"In the UK, we say jam. It's a good pie."
"You say good pie, and I say Jell-O, Jell-O, Jell-O . .
. "
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So what if I don’t know what “Armageddon” means?
It’s not the end of the world.
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What’s the difference between a good joke and a bad joke
timing.
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Don’t you hate it when someone answers their own questions?
I do.
