Things get a bit heavy here sometimes. We all need some light relief. So how about a (clean) jokes thread?
How's this?
Man walking along a road in the countryside comes across a shepherd and a huge flock of sheep. Tells the shepherd, "I will bet you $100 against one of your sheep that I can tell you the exact number in this flock." The shepherd thinks it over; it's a big flock so he takes the bet. "973," says the man. The shepherd is astonished, because that is exactly right. Says "OK, I'm a man of my word, take an animal." Man picks one up and begins to walk away.
"Wait," cries the shepherd, "Let me have a chance to get even. Double or nothing that I can guess your exact occupation." Man says sure. "You are an economist for a government think tank," says the shepherd. "Amazing!" responds the man, "You are exactly right! But tell me, how did you deduce that?"
"Well," says the shepherd, "put down my dog and I will tell you."
A man, an ostrich and a cat walk into a bar and the bartender says, "What would you like Sir?" The man says, "I'll have a pint of beer." He looks at the ostrich and says, "What will you have?". "I'll have a pint of beer" says the ostrich. He looks at the cat, "What will you have?" "Half a pint of beer, but I'm not paying." That will be £12.65" says the bartender. So the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out exactly £12.65. The next day after work the man goes into the same bar. "What'll it be today?" says the bartender. "Double whisky on the rocks" says the man. He looks at the ostrich and says, "What will you have?" ,"I'll join him in a double whisky" says the ostrich. He looks at the cat, "What will you have?" "Half a pint of beer-but I'm not paying" says the cat. "That will be £21.95" says the bartender. So the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out exactly £21.95. The next day after work the man goes into the same bar. "Excuse me" the bartender, says, "I was just wondering why, no matter what the price, you always have the exact change in your pocket?" "Well" says the man, when my grandmother died she left me everything in her house and inside there was a lamp. So I rubbed it and out popped a genie. It granted me three wishes. So I asked that every time I wanted to buy something I would have the exact change in my pocket". "That's brilliant" says the bartender. "You'll never ever run out of money. What else did you ask for?" The man sighs and says, "A bird with long legs and a tight pussy!!"
FEUDALISM: You have two cows. Your lord takes some of the milk.
PURE SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them in a barn with everyone else's cows. You have to take care of all the cows. The government gives you as much milk as you need.
BUREAUCRATIC SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them in a barn with everyone else's cows. They are cared for by ex-chicken farmers. You have to take care of the chickens the government took from the chicken farmers. The government gives you as much milk and as many eggs as the regulations say you should need.
PURE COMMUNISM: You have two cows. Your neighbours help you take care of them, and you all share the milk.
RUSSIAN COMMUNISM: You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the government takes all the milk.
FASCISM: You have two cows. The government takes both, hires you to take care of them, and sells you the milk.
MILITARIANISM: You have two cows. The government takes both and drafts you.
DICTATORSHIP: You have two cows. The government takes both and shoots you.
SINGAPORE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. The government fines you for keeping two unlicensed animals in an apartment.
PURE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbours decide who gets the milk.
REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbours pick someone to tell you who gets the milk.
AMERICAN DEMOCRACY: The government promises to give you two cows if you vote for it. After the election, the president is impeached for speculating in cow futures. The press dubs the affair "Cowgate".
BRITISH DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. You feed them sheep's brains and they go mad. The government doesn't do anything.
BUREAUCRACY: You have two cows. At first the government regulates what you can feed them and when you can milk them. Then it pays you not to milk them. After that it takes both, shoots one, milks the other and pours the milk down the drain. Then it requires you to fill out forms accounting for the missing cows.
This is a copy of a Bricklayers report, which was printed in the Newsletter of the New Zealand equivalent of the Workers Compensation Board. (although Billy Connolly has also told it a few times!)
It is allegedly a true story.
Dear Sir,
I am writing in response to your request for ‘additional information’ as per block 3 of the accident report form.
I put ‘Poor Planning’ as the cause of my accident and you have asked for a fuller account, I trust the following will explain.
I am a bricklayer by trade and on the day of the accident I was working alone on the roof of a new six-storey building.
When I had completed my work I found that I had some bricks left over, which, when weighed later, were found to be slightly in excess of 500lbs.
Rather than carry the bricks down by hand a few at a time I decided to lower them in the barrel by using a pulley, which was attached to the side of the building. Securing the rope at ground level I went up to the roof swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went down and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the bricks. You will note in block 11 of the accident report form that I weigh 135lbs.
Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded up the side of the building at a rapid rate. In the vicinity of the third floor I met the barrel, which was now proceeding downwards at an equally impressive speed.
This explains the fractured skull, minor abrasions and broken collarbone as listed in section 3 of the accident report form. Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley.
Fortunately, by this time, I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly to the rope in spite of the excruciating pain I was now beginning to experience.
At approximately the same time, however, the barrel hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Now devoid of the weight of the bricks, the barrel weighed approx. 50lbs, I refer you once again to my weight.
As you might imagine, I began a rapid descent down the side of the building.
In the vicinity of the 3rd floor I once again met the barrel, this time coming up, hence the two fractured ankles, broken tooth and severe lacerations of my legs and lower body.
Here, my luck began to change slightly.
The encounter with the barrel seemed to slow me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell into the pile of bricks and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked.
I’m sorry to report however, as I lay on the pile of bricks, in pain and unable to move I lost my composure and presence of mind and let go of the rope. As I lay there I could watch the empty barrel begin its downward journey onto me. This explains the two broken legs.
Lovely story, Architect! I remember when I was a lad, listening to Gerard Hoffnung reading the same account on the radio. My mother and I were in stitches!
Anyways Cobbers ol' King Arthur goes forth in search ov The Holy Grail. Now the regal bloke's got abitov a naggin' doubt at the back ov his mind vissyvee his Missus's Guinny Vere Chastity'n'Fidelity durin' his absence en quest so he kits her our with a very cunnin' chastity belt azhas an orryfice with a guillotin blade azwill cut anythin' off az enters said aperture.
After some years on the quest the Royal Arthur Bloke pops home briefly ter ComeALot fer a shower'n'some conjugal comforts. First thing first he lines up them Fellas ov his Round Table'n'order them ter drop the strides. Jeez if he don't get a shock as he works his way down the ranks seein' all them missin' Mulligans! Near the end Sir Gawain's bleedin' where John Thomas should be'n'it's the same with Little Sir Galahad! Last in line's ol' Launcelot standin' there with his member still intact! Well ol' Art feels azif all his birthdays'n'Chrissies has come at once!
"Well done Launcelot, Thou Good'n'True Servant! Ask'n'it'll be thine!"
Ter which ol' Lance can only utter," BbbLllwwee Wy!" as the blood drips from both corners ov his north'n'south down his chin!"
Architect, sorry to repeat your story, but I rather thought you might like this version - It's by Pat Cooksey and was made famous by the Dubliners:
The Sick Note
Dear Sir, I write this note to you to tell you of my plight For at the time of writing, I'm not a pretty sight Me body is all black and blue, me face a deathly gray And I write this note to say why Murphy's not at work today
While working on the 14th floor, some bricks I had to clear But to toss them down from such a height was not a good idea The foreman wasn't very pleased, he is an awkward sod He said I'd have to cart them down the ladders in me hod.
Now shifting all those bricks by hand it was so very slow So I hoisted up a barrel and secured a rope below But in me haste to do the job I was to blind to see That a barrel full of building bricks was heavier than me
And so when I untied the rope, the barrel fell like lead And clinging tightly to the rope, I started up instead I shot up like a rocket, till to my dismay I found That half-way up I met the bloody barrel coming down
Now the barrel broke me shoulder, as to the ground it sped And when I reached the top, I banged the pulley with me head I clung on tightly numb with shock, from this almighty blow And the barrel spilled out half the bricks some 14 floors below
Now! when these bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor I then outweighed the barrel and so started down once more Still clinging tightly to the rope, me body wracked with pain And half way down I met the bloody barrel once again
Now the force of this collision half way down the office block Caused multiple abrasions and a nasty state of shock Still clinging tightly to the rope, I fell towards the ground And I landed on the broken bricks scattered all around
I lay there groaning on the ground, I thought I'd past the worst But the barrel hit the pulley wheel and then the bottom burst A shower of bricks rained down on me, I didn't have a hope As I lay there bleeding on the ground I let go of the bloody rope
Now, the barrel then being heavier, it started down once more It landed right across me as.., I lay there on the floor It broke three ribs and my left arm and I can only say I hope you'll understand why Murphy's not at work today
