FUNNY FRIDAY

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I told some family members that my father and his brother, when young in Holland during the early years of the Occupation in WW2, used to catch and skin cats, then sell them as rabbits. Apparently there were lots of buyers.

So today’s Funny Friday includes some items about not cats but rabbits.

Enjoy.

Caution: risqué content ahead.

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SOME HUMOUR:

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A man complains about his neighbour walking naked around the garden.

His wife says "You can't even see into her garden." The man replies, "Well, you can if you stand on this box."

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A 90 year-old Jewish man is on his deathbed. Summoning his last bit of strength, he lifts his head and whispers: "Is my beloved wife Sarah here with me?" And Sarah says, "Yes, I am here."

He then says: "Are my children -- my wonderful children -- are they here with me?" and they reply, "Yes father, we are here with you."

And he says: "Are my brothers and sisters here with me as well?" They too tell him that they are here.

The old man lays back quietly, closes his eyes, and says, "If everybody is here ... why is the light on in the kitchen?"

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I lost my job as a diplomat

I thought people who live in Paris were called Parisites.

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Three men are in a hotel room in Soviet Russia.

The first two men open a bottle of vodka, while the third is tired and goes straight to bed. He is unable to sleep however, as his increasingly drunk friends tell political jokes loudly.

After a while, the tired man gets frustrated and walks downstairs for a smoke. He stops in the lounge and asks the receptionist to bring tea to their room in five minutes.

The man walks back into the room, joins the table, leans towards a power outlet and speaks into it:

"Comrade major, we want some tea to room 62 please."

His friends laugh on the joke, until there is a knock on the door. The receptionist brings a tea pot. His friends fall silent and pale, horrified of what they just witnessed. The party is dead, and the man goes to sleep.

After a good night's rest, the man wakes up, and notices his friends are gone. Surprised, he walks downstairs and asks the receptionist where they went.

The nervous receptionist whispers that KGB came and took them before dawn.

The man is horrified. He wonders why he was spared.

The receptionist responds:

"Well, comrade major did quite like your tea gag."

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Years ago while lying in my hammock and drinking JD from the bottle I noticed my dog dragging something under the fence. Upon inspection, to my dismay, I realised it was the next door neighbour`s 10 year old daughter`s rabbit.

For years I had watched her come home from school and head straight out to its cage, free it and play with it in the yard. I knew today would be no different and fearing for our dog, I had to think fast. The rabbit was quite dirty, as if it had put up quite a struggle, so I washed it off with the hose, combed it with the dog brush and blew it dry with the leaf blower. Upon finishing the grooming I jumped the fence and placed it back in its cage hoping its death would be written off as "natural causes".

Back to the hammock and JD. Within the hour the neighbour’s Volvo pulled in as usual and out popped the little girl, and as usual she headed straight for the cage. Only this time she stopped about six feet away and screamed: "DDDDDAAAADDDDDDDYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!"

Her father, panic stricken, stood looking at the cage. Being the good neighbour that I am I rushed to fence and asked if there was anything I could do.

Her father less than calmly blurted, "What kind of sick individual would dig up a little girl`s dead rabbit and put it back in its cage?"

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From a past Bytes. . . 

A few days ago I posted an item about coincidences and said that I didn’t regard them as portents or omens, nonetheless I threw salt over my shoulder and rubbed a rabbit’s foot.

That reference to a rabbit foot for luck reminded me of a story from years ago when my son was working in the legal practice with me.

I have checked with son Thomas and he is okay with me reposting it. The post was on May 24, 2013, but the photo of Thomas dates from 2008.

Here is that post . . .

 

My son Thomas, when he worked in my office as a solicitor before becoming a barrister, had carried out some tasks for John, an elderly, eccentric Scottish client. John took a liking to Thomas and would often pass on bits of advice, tell him some stories and so on.

Not long after Thomas had completed the tasks mentioned above, he received a letter from John in the office mail.

The letter said that:

• the item enclosed was for good luck and should be worn around the neck;

• John’s father had been an ace poacher in Scotland and had never been caught;

• his father had told him to wear one but he, John, hadn’t and he was nicked in 1942;

• there was an extra one for a friend.

Inside the envelope was a wrapped parcel which smelt horrible (being the middle of a hot summer). Tom opened it and found two rabbit’s feet…

John died a couple of years ago. We never did find out whether he was serious or if it was a joke.

I suspect that he was serious.

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A precious little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp, "Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep widdle wabbits?"

As the shopkeeper's heart melts, he gets down on his knees, so that he's on her level, and asks, "Do you want a widdle white wabbit or a thoft and fuwwy bwack wabbit or maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabbit over there?"

She, in turn blushes, puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet voice, "I don't think my python weally givth a thit"

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The Chicago Police, the FBI, and the CIA are all trying to prove they are the best at catching criminals. They are set a test, a rabbit is released into a forest and each of them has to catch it.

The CIA people go in. They place animal informants throughout the forest. They question all plant and mineral witnesses. After three months of extensive investigations, they conclude that the rabbit does not exist.

The FBI goes in. After two weeks with no leads they burn the forest, killing everything in it, including the rabbit, and make no apologies: the rabbit had it coming.

The Chicago Police go in. They come out two hours later with a badly beaten bear. The bear is yelling: "Okay! Okay! I'm a rabbit! I'm a rabbit!"

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LIMERICK OF THE WEEK:

There once was a fellow named Weir,

Who had not one atom of fear.

He felt the desire

To touch a live wire. . .

and any last line will do here.

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GALLERY:

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CORN CORNER:

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A priest, a minister, and a rabbit walk into a bar...

The rabbit says, “I think I might be a typo.”

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Two rabbits were being chased by a pack of hungry wolves.

The wolves chased the rabbits into a thicket. After a few minutes, one rabbit turned to the other and said, "Well, do you want to make a run for it, or should we stay here for a few days and out number them?"

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Elton John got his pet rabbit a treadmill for Xmas.

It's a little fit bunny.

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