The Balgownie Hotel Joke Book

Giles Pickford Homepage Link    Giles Pickfords Biographical Notes    Giles Pickfords Papers, Poems & Yarns

Compiled by the Balgownie Hotel Disgruntled Husbands Association
Balgownie Hotel, Balgownie New South Wales, Australia

Wine Bottle 

First Edition: October 1999.
Reprinted for Bob Simpson and Fergie Hamilton
November 2009




The jokes in this politically incorrect volume have been collected since 1978 by the members of the Balgownie Hotel Disgruntled Husbands Association. This distinguished group of patrons inhabits the western bar. They conduct an Annual General Meeting each day from 4.30 pm.

There are two reasons for holding such frequent Annual General Meetings. The first is that the group has never succeeded in electing a Treasurer. Thus, each Annual General Meeting is in fact a postponed meeting from the previous day. They are all very well attended, because everyone turns up in order to refuse nomination for office.

The other less important reason is that a man sometimes needs an excuse for heading off anywhere at 4.30 pm and a most acceptable reason for an absence is that there is an Annual General Meeting which must not be missed at any cost.

May you all enjoy a laugh and a drink in the spirit in which this book is written. People who are disturbed by the occasional profanity and coarse language should read no further, but those disturbed by violence or nudity need have no fears.

Disgruntled Husbands Association:
An unincorporated, uncoordinated, unconstitutional group.


Did you hear about the young fella who went to the Bourke office of the Commonwealth Employment Service (CES) to find a job? He found one soon with a farmer out near Hungerford. The CES bloke said he was a likely lad and should go a long way. The farmer took him out and said 'Now see this fence here, I would like you to continue it along for another kilometre but leave a hole just here to let my daughter through to milk the goat'. So he went away and came back later. 'Christ' he said 'you forgot to leave the hole in the fence, I'll have to give you something less complicated'. So he took him off to the sheep shed where there were three rams. He said 'I want you to shear these rams but make sure that when you do that you do not disturb my wife's Persian cat sitting over there on the bench'. So he came back later and found that the Likely Lad had sheared everything, including the cat. 'Holy Mackerel' he said 'I'll have to find you something more suited to your temperament'. So he took him to the wood heap and he said 'I would like you to split all this wood into suitable widths, but make sure that when you do it you look out for my prize winning rooster who runs around here in the afternoon'.  When he came back he found that all the wood was split and the rooster had lost a leg. 'Look' he said, 'I know that they think you are a likely lad, but I am going to take you back to Bourke because you are no good for me out here in Hungerford'. So he took him back to Bourke and he said to the CES bloke 'How did I get this Roustabout from Hell from your branch, he is absolutely useless.' To which the CES bloke replied 'I thought that he was a likely lad'. 'Likely Lad you might say' said the outraged land-owner, 'but he blocked up my daughter's hole, he shaved my wife's pussy and he cut a foot of my cock!'


Did you hear about the Yank and the Pom? They were sitting in La Guardia Airport waiting for their planes and they got talking about the differences between the American and English sense of humour. Both agreed that they found the other's sense of humour hard to understand. The Yank said 'Why don't you tell me one of your jokes and I will tell you one of mine and we can examine the differences'. 'OK' said the Pom, 'Here is a typical English joke. There was a crossroads and up one leg of the crossroads came a double decker London bus. Up the other comes a chap on a motor bike, up the other comes a chap riding a horse and up the last one comes a lovely young lass. Well the question is which one of them knew her?' The Yank shook his head sadly and said he didn't know. 'Well' said the Pom 'The fact is that the horseman knew her (horse manure)'. The yank looked at the Pom in amazement. 'Is that a joke?' he said. 'Yes' said the Pom 'That is a typical English joke.'

'Well' said the Yank 'Let me tell you a typical American Joke. We like jingles in our jokes and here is a typical American jingle: There was a young fellow called Skinner, who took a young lass out to dinner, they sat down to dine, at a quarter past nine, and at a quarter past ten it was in her: No no no, it was not Skinner who was in her, but the dinner was in her, right!' The Pom shook his head sadly, saying that the American sense of humour was quite beyond his comprehension.

So they caught their planes home. When the Yank got home he went down to his club and gathered his friends around him. 'Guess what' he said 'When I was waiting for my plane at La Guardia I met this ridiculous Englishman who told me this completely crazy joke which I can't make head or tail of. It goes like this. There is a crossroads. Down one leg of the cross roads comes a Greyhound bus, down another one comes a bloke on a Harley, down the other one comes a cowboy and down the last one comes a luscious looking young chick. Well the question is which one of them knew her?' He looked around his friends to see if anyone of them had the answer. 'Well' he said 'I couldn't figure it out either, but the answer is Horse Shit!' They all agreed that the English sense of humour is incomprehensible.

When the Englishman got home he went down to his club and gathered his friends around him. 'Guess what' he said ' When I was waiting for my plane at La Guardia Airport I met this ridiculous Yank who told me this completely incomprehensible jingle. I couldn't make head or tail of it. It goes like this. There was a young fellow called Tupper, who took a young lass out to supper, they sat down to dine, at a quarter past nine, and at a quarter past ten it was up her. No no no, it was not Tupper who was up her. It was some frightful bounder called Skinner!'


 Did you hear the one about the bloke who took $200 into the brothel and told the Madam that he wanted someone who would just lie there and not do anything or talk? She said 'With $200 you can do a lot better than that'. To which he replied 'Look, you don't understand. I am not feeling horny, I am just homesick'.


 Kelly the Good
Kelly the Bad
Could strike a line
Through scrub or pine
Stick a pig or porker
Ride a hack
Or fuck a black
As well as any bastard
Born outback
Run, jump, fight, fuck
Wheel a barrow
Full of muck.
Have a shit
Wipe his arse on a black snake.
A better man never pissed
Through a pair of dungarees.
But they would not have him in the Boy Scouts because he was a sissy.


Letter to Dorothy Dix

I am a sailor in the New Zealand Navy. My parents live in Whangarei and my brother-in-law is living in Melbourne. My father and mother have been busted for drug running and they depend on my two sisters, who are prostitutes, for a living.

My only brother is serving a life sentence in jail on conviction of rape and murder, and my uncle is a High Court Judge who takes bribes. My other uncle is on trial for lighting fires in a National Park which burnt down 93 houses.

I am in love with a Thai prostitute who solicits around the Auckland wharves. She says she loves me, but she knows nothing about my family background. We intend to marry as soon as her illnesses clear up. Me being white does not bother her at all. When I get out of the Navy we will open a brothel in Hamilton and my two sisters will work there to keep the business in the family.

My problem is that I want to marry this girl and have an entirely open and honest relationship with her. The burning question is whether I should tell her that I have a brother-in-law who lives in Melbourne?


 Paddy met Sean in the market. 'I haven't seen you for ages Sean. Where have you been?' 'I've been studying at University' said Sean. 'Holy Bejasus, what did you study then?' said Paddy. 'I've been studying Logic' said Sean. 'What in the world is Logic?' said Paddy. 'Well' said Sean 'let me give you an example of logical deduction.  Can I ask you if you have a goldfish?' 'For sure I have a goldfish' said Paddy. 'Well then using Logic I can deduce that you have a goldfish bowl' said Sean. 'You're right' said Paddy 'I have got a gold fish bowl'. 'And using logic again I can deduce that you have water in the bowl'. 'For sure I have and all got water in the bowl' said the amazed Paddy. 'So using logical deduction' said Sean 'I know that you would have a tap and because you have a tap you have a house'. 'You're right again' said Paddy 'I have got a tap with a house on it'. 'And using Logic even further, I can deduce that because you have a house you are married'. 'Correct' said an astonished Paddy. 'And therefore' said Sean relentlessly 'because you have a wife you get regular sex and because of that you are not a wanker!'. 'Faith and Begorrah' said Paddy 'You are right all through, and you did it all using logic'.

Later Sean met Mick further down the street. 'Guess what Mick' said Sean 'I just ran into Paddy at the market and he has been going to University and he's been studying Logic'. 'What is Logic?' said Mick. 'Well let me give you an example of the use of deductive logic' said Sean importantly. 'Can I ask if you have a goldfish?' 'No I don't have a goldfish' said Mick. 'Well in that case you're a wanker' said Sean, illustrating, as Paddy had done before him, the fallacy of the undistributed middle.


 This bloke asked his friend in Qeanbeyan if he could borrow his Harley Davidson and ride up to Yass to visit his other friends. 'Sure' said the Harley owner, 'but be sure to take this jar of vaseline and wipe it over the seat if it starts to rain. That way the water will be kept out of the leather and it won't perish'. So the borrower of Harleys took off to Yass and had dinner with his friend and family. After dinner the bloke made out like he was going to help with the washing up, but the father said 'We have a rule in this family. We sit down and watch TV and the first person to speak has to do the washing up'.  So they all sat down, father, mother, daughter and the bloke, to watch TV. Half way through 'Neighbours' the daughter started to fondle the bloke and before you knew what one thing led to another and they carried out a vigorous act of sexual congress, right there on the carpet in front of the TV. But no-one said anything because they did not want to do the washing up.

When they had finished, about half way through '60 Minutes' the mother started to fondle the bloke and one thing led to another and before you knew what they executed a very energetic coupling on the carpet in front of the TV. Once again everyone was totally silent because of the washing up problem. When they had finished they went back to watching the TV. About half way through the movie it started to rain. The bloke leapt up and said 'I had better go and get the vaseline'. Whereupon the father said 'No don't do that, I will do the washing up'.


 Q. What is the difference between the NSW Law Society and Jurassic Park?
A. One is a theme park full of dinosaurs and the other is a movie.


Q. What is the difference between Ground Hog Day and President Bush's State of the Union Address?
A. One involves a meaningless ritual in which we look to a creature of little intelligence for prognostication and the other involves a groundhog


 Q. What is long and hard and fucks New Zealanders?
A. High School


Q. What's the difference between John Howard and a Stegosaurus?
A. One is a lumpy skinned saw-backed anachronistic fossil and the other one is a dinosaur.


Q. What animal has an arsehole half way up its back?
A. A Police Horse.


Q. What is Black and Brown and looks good on a lawyer?
A. A Doberman


Q. Why should you try not to run over a lawyer riding a bike?
A. It is probably your bike.


Q. Why do so many people take an instant dislike to Senator Bronwyn Bishop?
A. It saves time.


Q. What's the difference between a Vice-Chancellor and a Hills Hoist?
A. A Hills Hoist would know if you went right up it with a Vice-Chancellor.


Q. How do you make God laugh?
A. Tell him about your plans for the future.


Q. What is the role of the public relations officer in an up-beat university?
A. To tell the truth as it is now, and will be until next Tuesday.


This Yank was sitting in the piano bar at the Bark Hut Hotel in the Northern Territory listening to a bloke tickling the ivories. He was really taken by the music and the rum so he approached the pianist and suggested that they could make a lot of money in the States and that he would act as the pianist's agent. 'I couldn't do that' said the pianist. 'I wouldn't want to break up the partnership'. 'What partnership?' said the Yank. 'I don't see no-one else here'. 'Oh my partner is a racing goanna who plays with me sometimes' said the pianist. And with that he whistled up a large ferocious looking goanna and they both sat down and played a Brahms Duet. 'Holy cow!' said the Yank getting out his cheque book. 'I'll offer you a million as a deposit. We will make billions with that act in the States'. 'No' said the pianist. 'I wouldn't want to break up the partnership'. 'Don't worry about that' said the Yank. 'The lizard can come too'. 'No, you don't understand' said the pianist. 'There is a tiger snake that sings'. And with that he whistled up a six-foot venomous tiger snake and the pianist and the goanna played and the snake sung a Verdi Aria. 'Holy Mackerel!' said the Yank, changing expletives in mid stream. 'I'll double the offer. How about two million? This will break all previous box office records in the States.' 'No' said the pianist looking a bit sheepish 'look, I've been having a lend of you and now I want to come clean. I couldn't go on misleading you. You see, the snake can't sing. It's the goanna singing, he's is a ventriloquist'.


The sergeant was sitting at the recruiting desk with a line of raw recruits in front of him. 'Next' he said 'Name?' 'I'm McCoy Sir' said a likely lad. 'What did you do in civvy street son?' said the sergeant. 'I worked in a bottling factory Sir and my job was to sock the corks into the bottles'. 'What do you call that occupation son?' said the sergeant'. 'That's what is called a Cork Socker Sir' said the lad. 'Right' said the sergeant writing it down. 'Next.... Name?' 'I'm McCoy Sir' said another likely lad. 'Heck, two McCoys' said the sergeant. 'What did you do in civvy street son?'. 'I worked in a coke works Sir and my job was to soak the lumps of coke before they went into the furnace because they burn hotter when their wet Sir'. 'What do you call that occupation son?' said the sergeant. 'That's what is called a Coke Soaker Sir' said the lad. 'Right' said the sergeant writing it down. 'Next....Name?' 'I'm McCoy Sir' said another likely lad. 'Heck, three McCoys, what did you do in civvy street son?' 'I worked in a menswear store Sir and my job was to tuck the socks into their plastic containers Sir'. 'What do you call that occupation son?' said the sergeant. 'That's what is called a Sock Tucker Sir' said the lad. 'Right' said the sergeant writing it down. 'Next....Name?' 'I'm McCoy Sir' said another likely lad. 'Heck, four McCoys' said the sergeant. 'What did you do in civvy street son?' 'I worked in a clock store Sir and my job was to stack the clocks on the shelves'. 'What do you call that occupation son?' said the sergeant. 'That's what is called a Clock Stocker Sir' said the lad. 'Right' said the sergeant writing it down. 'Next....Name?' 'I'm McCoy Sir' said another likely lad. 'I can't believe this; five McCoys!' said the sergeant. 'What did you do in civvy street son?' 'I worked in a Steggles Chicken Factory Sir and my job was to cut the throats of the roosters and suck all the blood out so they wouldn't bleed in the bag, Sir'. 'What do you call that occupation son?' said the sergeant. 'That's what is called a Cock Sucker Sir' said the lad. 'Right' said the sergeant writing it down. 'Next....Name?' 'I'm McCoy Sir' said another likely lad. 'This is incredible, six McCoys!' said the sergeant. 'You wouldn't by the remotest chance be a cork socker, a coke soaker, a sock tucker, a clock stocker or a cock sucker would you son?' 'No' said the comely lad fluttering his long black eyelashes. 'I'm the Real McCoy, give us a kiss!


This Irishman was driving into Canberra when he was stopped by a federal policeman who cheerfully told him that he was the 100,000th visitor to the national capital that year, and that because of that he had just won $1,000. 'Begorrah' said the son of Erin 'I will be able to use the money to pay off my speeding fines'. The policeman's eyes narrowed. Then the wife interjects and says 'Don't take any notice of him, he's drunk.' As the policeman's face darkened the Mother in the back seat chips in 'I knew we should not have stolen this car to come to Canberra in'. When the policeman took out his note book the Father in the back seat said 'If you want to know the truth of it I am more worried about being here as an illegal immigrant than I am about me son not having a driver's licence.'


A young fella took his girl out one night. When they got back to her place he asked, after a bit of canoodling, where the toilet was. She told him that it was down the corridor right next to Dad and Mum's bedroom but not to go there otherwise they might wake up. 'Why not just do it in the kitchen sink like Dad does sometimes' she said. The young fella was away for about twenty minutes. When he got back his girl asks him why he had been away for so long. He replied that the reason for his prolonged absence was that it had taken him a while to find a bit of paper.


There were two young lovers, the girl was a member of the Labor Party and the bloke was a member of the Liberal Party. They often fell into ideological arguments. One night after a bitter row they were in bed, back to back, when the girl relented. She tapped the bloke on the shoulder and said, 'I think there is a split in the Labor Party. If your member was to stand now he would probably get in.' To which he replied, 'I am afraid to tell you my dear that my member has already stood as an Independent and he lost his deposit.'


It was Monday morning and the telephonist at Randwick Race Course was hard at work when she got this phone call. 'Excuse me Miss' said the bloke 'Would you be able to tell me if the Race Course opens on Saturday?' 'Why yes' said the young lady 'Randwick most surely opens on Saturday'. The next day at about the same time the bloke rang again. 'Excush me, could you tell me if Ramblick opens on Shaturday?' he said. 'Yes' said the young lady 'Just like I told you yesterday, Randwick opens on Saturday'. On Wednesday the bloke rang again. 'Ullo, Ullo, Ullo' he yodelled 'Would it be poshible for you to inform me whetherornot Shandblick ish open on Shatdy? 'Look here my good fellow' said the young lady 'If your desperate for a drink there are plenty of other places open on Saturday'. To which the soak responded 'I know that, I'm not waiting to get into the bloody bar, I'm waiting to get out.'


This bloke goes to the doctor and says that he has a mysterious disease. 'My fingers, tongue and dick are a deep yellow colour and I don't know what's causing it' he said. The doctor took a detailed history but could not get to the bottom of it. Finally he asked the bloke where he worked. 'I don't work anywhere, I'm unemployed' said the bloke. 'Well what do you do all day?' said the quack. 'I don't do anything all day' said the bloke 'All I do is sit in front of the TV watching SBS movies and eating Twisties'.


When Apollo Mission Astronaut Neil Armstrong first walked on the moon in 1969, he not only gave his famous 'One Small Step for Man, One Giant Leap for Mankind' statement, but followed it by several remarks - usual com traffic between himself, the other astronauts and Mission Control. But, before he re-entered the lander, he made the enigmatic remark 'Good luck, Mr. Gorsky.'

Many people at NASA thought it was a casual remark concerning some rival Soviet Cosmonaut; however, upon checking, there was no Gorsky in either the Russian or American space programs. Over the years, many people have questioned him as to what the 'Good luck, Mr. Gorsky' statement meant, but always met with no comment. On July 5, in Tampa Bay, FL, while answering questions following a speech, a reporter brought up the 26-year-old question to Armstrong. He finally responded. It seems that Mr. Gorsky had died and so Armstrong felt he could answer the question...

When he was a kid, Neil was playing baseball with his brother in the backyard. His brother hit a fly ball which landed in front of his neighbour's bedroom window. The neighbours were Mr. and Mrs. Gorksy. As he leaned down to pick up the ball, he heard Mrs. Gorsky shouting at Mr. Gorsky, 'Oral sex ?! Oral sex you want ?! You'll get oral sex when that kid next door walks on the moon!'


This pommie walks into an outback pub, very well dressed gentleman he was too. He gets talking to some drovers around the bar and they ask him what he does for a crust. He said 'I'm a taxidermist. Yesterday I stuffed a kangaroo, today I stuffed a wombat and tomorrow I am looking forward to stuffing an emu'. Later on, after the taxidermist had left, the barman came up and asked who the pommie was. The drovers replied 'Well, he said he was a taxi driver, but we think that he is a drover like us'.


The Teacher asked her class to make a sentence using the word 'Lovely'. Little Mary puts up her hand and says 'I think its lovely to play on the swings in the park.' 'What a beautiful sentence!' says the teacher. Little Lucy puts up her hand and says 'I think ice cream is lovely'. 'Great sentence', says the teacher. Little Johnny puts up his hand. (Oh God, thinks the teacher, here he comes again). 'My 14 year old sister came home from the movies last night' explained little Johnny 'And she told my Father she was pregnant, so Dad goes: Isn't that lovely, isn't that just fucking lovely'.

Desperately changing tack the Teacher said 'I want you to tell me about something you have at home'. Little Lucy puts up her hand and says 'We have a boat at home and we go fishing'. 'What a good story', says the Teacher. Little Mary puts her hand up and says 'At home we have a little puppy and we play with him in the garden'. 'Marvelous' says the Teacher. Then little Johnny puts up his hand (Oh God thinks the teacher, I'll have to ask him or he might have one of his turns). 'Well' said Johnny 'At home my Dad has got two penises'. 'That's impossible' said the teacher. 'No it isn't' said Johnny 'He has a little one which he does weewee out of, and he has a great big one that he uses to brush Mummy's teeth with'.


During the mathematics class the teacher posed this problem. 'There is a branch with three birds sitting on it. The farmer shoots one of the birds so how many are left?' 'None, because the noise would have frightened the other two off' said Johnny. 'Your wrong in the mathematical sense' said the teacher. 'Mathematically speaking there were two left - but I like the way you are thinking'.

'In that case' said Johnny 'I will give you a mathematical problem, it goes like this. There are three ladies sitting on a bench by the sea eating ice creams. One of them is eating from a cone, another one is using a teaspoon and the last one is licking it. The question is which one of them is married?' 'Well' said the teacher after some thought 'I would say that it was the one who was licking it'. 'Your wrong' said Johnny 'it was the one who was wearing a wedding ring - but I like the way you are thinking'.


An American wanders in to the bar and orders a Martini. 'What sort of Martini?' asks the barman 'Well, I like a bit more gin than vermouth, I like a pinch of salt and a black olive rather than a green one, and when you get the twist of lemon peel would you run a lighted match up and down it'. That's the trouble with Yanks, thought the barman; they can never just order a beer. Noticing the bloke at the end of the bar, the Yank quietly asks the barman 'is that Jesus Christ over there' to which the barman says yes. 'Well give him a Martini from me' said the Yank.

Then a New Zealander wanders in to the bar and orders a Lion Red 'This is Australia mate' says the barman 'how about a Tooheys?' 'OK, Tooheys it is' he said, and then, noticing the bloke at the end of the bar, he quietly asks the barman 'is that Jesus Christ over there' to which the barman says yes. 'Well give him a Tooheys from me' said the Kiwi.

Then an Australian wanders in to the bar and orders a schooner of VB. Noticing the bloke at the end of the bar, he quietly asks the barman 'is that Jesus Christ over there' to which the barman says yes. 'Well give him a schooner of VB from me' said the Ozzie.

After a while Jesus wanders over to the Yank and he says 'Did you buy me that Martini?' 'If it was the one with the black olive, then I sure did' said the Yank, whereupon Jesus touched him on the shoulder and the Yank shouts out 'my gridiron injury has been completely cured'.

Then Jesus wanders over to the Kiwi and he says 'Did you buy me that Lion Red?' 'Why yes, except it was a Tooheys, not a Lion Red' said the Kiwi, whereupon Jesus touched him on the wrist and the Kiwi shouts out 'My repetitive strain injury has been completely cured'.

Finally Jesus wanders over to the Ozzie and he says 'Did you buy me that schooner of VB?' 'I sure did' said the Ozzie 'but for Pete's sake don't touch me. I'm on full compo'.


George Bush, Mikhael Gorbachov and Bob Hawke were holding a summit meeting in Tel Aviv when the Angel of the Lord appeared and said that God was really pissed off about the state that the world was in and that He was going to destroy it on Tuesday.

George Bush went back to the United States and announced in a 'State of the Nation Address' that he had good news and bad news. 'The good news is that there is a God and the bad news is that He is going to destroy the world next Tuesday.'

Mikhael Gorbachov went back to Russia and told 'Pravda' that he had bad news and worse news. 'The bad news is that contrary to communist doctrine there is a God and the worse news is that He is going to destroy the world next Tuesday'.

Bob Hawke went back to Australia and announced to John Laws on Radio 2UE that he had good news and better news. 'The good news is that, even though I never believed it, there is a God. And the better news is that by next Tuesday there will be no Australian child living in poverty'.


An Englishman, a Frenchman and an Australian heard this news when they were sitting in the Balgownie Hotel having a beer or three, and they got fantasising about what they would do on Monday, the last day before the world was destroyed.

The Englishman said that if he could have a perfect last day he would be back in London and start the day by taking his dog Toby for a walk in Green Park and watch the changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace, then he would take lunch at his Club and spend a bit of time with the chaps, after which he would go home a give his wife a jolly good rogering and then take her out to a Concert in the Albert Hall, followed by a sojourn in some Soho nightclubs, returning home finally to a good breakfast of bacon and eggs. He said that after that he would be ready for the world to end.

The Frenchman said that his perfect last day would be spent in Paris beginning with a boat trip down the Seine, sipping Champagne under the bridges of Paris. This would be followed by a lunch with his mistress on the Left Bank after which he would take her back to her place and overwhelm her with passionate embraces. Then he would take her out to the Moulin Rouge for a night of glittering entertainment, after which he would return home to his wife and have a light breakfast of croissants and cottage cheese washed down with a good Veuve Cliquot. He said that after that he would be ready for the world to end.

The Australian said that if he thought the world was going to end he would go to Canberra. 'Why, in God's name, would anyone go to Canberra?' cried his two comrades. 'Because nothing ever happens in Canberra, so it follows that it would still be there after the rest of the world was destroyed.'


The bloke had been working on mending the Western Australian rabbit proof fence which crosses the continent and partially separates the western rabbit from its cousin the eastern rabbit. He had done six months without a break and hit Kalgoorlie with plenty of money in his pocket and a permanent hard on. He knocked on his girl friends door and suggested to her that they should make love immediately. 'But I've just had my hair done for the ABC Symphony Concert tonight' she cried. 'Forget the hair' said the bloke 'it's now or never'. So they went to the bedroom and he slipped a franger on his old fellow and they went to it with a passion. Just as they reached the paradise stroke they heard the car door slam, it was Dad and Mum coming home with the bread and milk. So they got up in a hurry, the bloke slipped the franger off his roger and put it in his pocket, after which they presented themselves to the parents.

Later the bloke accompanied his girl friend to the Kalgoorlie Town Hall for the Beethoven Symphony Concert. Half way through the second movement of Beethoven's 3rd, the piece which Coleridge described as 'a march in deep purple', the bloke said to his girl friend that if he 'did not have a smoke right now he would go mad with grief'. His girl friend, who was a girl with profound wisdom and sagacity, said 'Look here, I saw you put that franger in your pocket earlier today. Why not light up and blow all the smoke into the franger. That way the smoke won't drift across the auditorium and attract the attention of the ushers'. 'What an incredibly ingenious idea' said the bloke, and he did just that.

Half way through the third movement he had finished his cigarette and the franger was about two feet long and about eight inches in circumference. 'Now what do I do now?' he said 'This franger is beginning to cause a lot of discussion amongst the people near by and you know how people in this town gossip'. His girl friend, who was a girl of infinite wisdom and sagacity, said 'Why don't you just let go of it'. 'What a brilliant solution to a tricky problem' said the bloke and with that he let go of the franger. It took off in a perfect parabola, rising up over the auditorium and scattering its contents on the heads of the music lovers below, then descending it arrived - splat- right on the nose of the second violinist who was executing a difficult glissando at the time. Without missing a note, the second violinist said to the first violinist 'Holy mackerel, I've been hit by a flying franger'. To which the first violinist replied 'It serves you right, you've been playing like a cunt all night'.


A monkey was sitting up in a tree in central Africa troubled by an immense hard on. It was as hard as Chinese arithmetic, so hard in fact that that his old fellow was getting bent out of shape with the pressure. Desperately the monkey looked around wondering what to do. He noticed a lion sleeping under the tree. 'Will I or wont I?' thought the monkey. But desperate situations call for desperate remedies, so he slid down the tree, picked up the lion's tale and gave him a quick one. The lion woke up with a roar but the monkey had achieved his premature ejaculation and he shinned up the tree and started swinging through the branches of the extensive forests of those parts. The lion bounded along after the monkey but, because of his recent injury, he was not quite as fast as usual. The monkey drew ahead and found a clearing where some Archæologists had camped by the river.

The camp was deserted so the monkey came down from the branches, sat down at one of the tables, put on a pair of dark glasses and picked up a copy of the New York Times. He was sitting reading the paper when the lion arrived, panting. 'Have you seen a monkey come passed here?' asked the lion politely. 'Do you mean the monkey that raped the lion?' asked the monkey. 'Oh Christ' roared the lion 'Don't tell me, it's in the newspapers already!'


One misty Scottish morning a man was driving through the hills to Inverness. Suddenly out of the mist, a massive red-haired highlander stepped into the middle of the road. The man is at least six feet four and has the appearance of a walking wardrobe. He has a huge red beard and despite the wind, mist and near freezing temperatures, is wearing only his kilt, a tweed shirt and a tam-o'-shanter at a rakish angle. At the roadside there also stands a young woman. She is absolutely beautiful - slim, shapely, fair complexion, golden hair....... heart stopping. The driver stops and stares, and his attention is only distracted from the lovely girl when the red thing opens the car door and drags him from his seat onto the road with a fist resembling a whole raw ham.

'Right, you Jimmy' he shouts, 'Ah want you to masturbate', 'but......' stammers the driver, 'Du it now...or I'll bluddy kill yer'. So the driver turns his back on the girl, drops his trousers and starts to masturbate. Thinking of the girl on the roadside this doesn't take him long. 'Right' snarls the highlander 'Du it again!' 'but.....' says the driver. 'Now....'

So the driver does it again. 'Right laddie, du it again' demands the highlander. This goes on for nearly two hours. The hapless driver gets cramps in both arms, he has rubbed himself raw, has violent knob-ache, his sight is failing (as promised for years by his priest) and despite the cold wind has collapsed in a sweating, gibbering heap on the ground, unable to stand.

'Du it again' says the highlander. 'I can't do it any more - you'll just have to kill me', whimpers the man. The highlander looks down at the pathetic soul slumped on the roadside. 'All right laddie,' he says, 'NOW you can give ma daughter a lift to Inverness'.


There was a Methodist preacher who liked a little drop in the seclusion of his cupboard when no-one was looking. His flock were the biggest bunch of straight-laced wowsers that ever disgraced God's earth. So he tried to keep his spiritual link with the Catholics out of sight.

Anyway, one day a couple of the regular Church goers called George and Betty caught the whiff of grog on the preacher's breath during a funeral. As it happens these sainted pair were not wowsers. In fact they also used to partake of the Cherry Brandy on a strictly regular basis and they secretly abhorred the dryness of the rest of the congregation. So plucking up their resolve they approached the preacher. 'Look' they said 'We are of the opinion that there ought to be a more lenient view taken of the grog in our parish. St Paul was in favour of it as a digestive aid and Our Lord himself regularly turned water into wine to avoid the excise. What we are proposing is that we will give you a bottle of Cherry Brandy on one condition; and that is that you stand up after the sermon and tell the parish that you enjoyed it'. 'OK' said the preacher and he took the gift without hesitation.

The next Sunday he stood up and gave the sermon, ending with this paean of praise. 'Finally, my brothers and sisters, I would like to thank George and Betty for their gift of fruit, and the spirit in which it was given'


Four men were bragging about how smart their dogs are. The first man was an Engineer, the second man was an Accountant, the third man was a Chemist, and the fourth was a Public Servant. To show off, the Engineer called to his dog. 'T-square, do your stuff.' T-square trotted over to a desk, took out some paper and a pen and promptly drew a circle, a square, and a triangle. Everyone agreed that was pretty smart. But the Accountant said his dog could do better. He called his dog and said, 'Spreadsheet, do your stuff.' Spreadsheet went out into the kitchen and returned with a dozen cookies. He divided them into 4 equal piles of 3 cookies each. Everyone agreed that was good. But the Chemist said his dog could do better. He called his dog and said, 'Measure, do your stuff.' Measure got up, walked over to the fridge, took out a quart of milk, got a 10 ounce glass from the cupboard and poured exactly 8 ounces without spilling a drop. Everyone agreed that was good. Then the three men turned to the Public Servant and said, 'What can your dog do?' The Public Servant called to his dog and said, 'Coffee Break, do your stuff.' Coffee Break jumped to his feet, ate the cookies, drank the milk, shat on the paper, sexually assaulted the other three dogs, claimed he injured his back while doing so, filed a grievance report for unsafe working conditions, put in for Workers Compensation and went home for the rest of the day on sick leave.


An Irishman walks into a bar in Dublin, orders three pints of Guinness and sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders three more. The bartender says, 'You know, a pint goes flat after I draw it; it would taste better if you bought one at a time.' The Irishman replies, 'Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in America, the other in Australia, and I'm here in Dublin. When we all left home, we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the days when we all drank together.'

The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there.

The Irishman becomes a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same way: He orders three pints and drinks them in turn. One day, he comes in and orders two pints. All the other regulars notice and fall silent.

When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says, 'I don't want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your great loss.' The Irishman looks confused for a moment, then a light dawns in his eye and he laughs. 'Oh, no,' he says, 'everyone's fine. It's just me that's temporarily quit drinking, I'm on antibiotics.'


Prince Charles was backing his Daimler out of Buckingham Palace one day and he accidentally ran over one of the Royal Corgies, flattening it out so much that it looked like a poppadam. Greatly troubled he went up to his bedroom and rubbed the bottle with the Genie in it. The Genie appeared looking very tired, with great dark circles under his eyes. 'I am absolutely exhausted with all your requests' said the Genie 'This time I can only grant you two wishes'. 'OK' said Charles 'Would you do something about this Corgi that I ran over, because Mum is going to be fucking furious when she finds out about it'. The Genie looked at the two dimensional Corgi and said 'There is no way that I can do anything about that dog, it has had the Richard. You will have to tell me about your second wish'. 'OK' said Charles 'My second wish is I was wondering if there was anything you could do to make Camilla Parker Bowles look a bit more attractive?' The Genie scratched his head for a while and eventually replied 'Give us another look at that fucking dog, mate.'


This bloke goes to the Doctor saying that he gets blinding headaches. After a series of tests the Doctor tells him that the good news is that he had found the cause but the bad news was that the headaches were being caused by an upward pressure of the testicles upon the base of the spine. The only cure would be an orchidectomy. The bloke thought that one over for weeks but in the end the headaches were so severe that he decided to go ahead and have his balls removed.

After the operation he was feeling so good that he decided to go down the street and get a new suit. In the menswear store he found a salesman who looked him up and down and said 'I guess you would be a 42 inch chest 38 inch waist and 40 inch hip'. 'My God' said the bloke 'how did you guess that?' 'I don't guess, I know. That's my job' said the salesman.

When the bloke was fitted out the sales man asked him if he would like a shirt because he had one in stock with a 42-inch chest and 24 inch arm. 'That's my exact measure' said the bloke with astonishment. 'That's right mate. It's my job to know that' said the salesman and handed him the shirt. 'Now what about a hat' said the salesman. 'OK' said the bloke, sensing a challenge 'I bet you can't guess that one'. 'You'd be a five and seven eighths' said the salesman 'I know that, it's my job'.

Finally the salesman enquired whether some underpants were desired. 'OK' said the bloke 'but let me get in first this time. I'm a size 34 in underpants'. 'No your not' said the salesman 'Your a size 36'. 'I've got you this time' said the bloke 'because I always wear a 34'. 'You're totally incorrect Sir, I know my job' said the salesman. 'You're a size 36, and I can tell you now that if you go on wearing a 34 you'll get blinding headaches from the upward pressure of the testicles on the base of the spine.'


A nun got into a cab and the driver was staring at her. She asked him why was he staring at her and he said, 'I want to ask you a question, but I don't want to offend you.' She said, 'you can't offend me, not with me being as old as I am and as long as I have been a nun... I have heard just about everything.'

The cab driver said 'Well I've always had a fantasy to have a nun give me a blow job.'

She said 'Well let's see what we can work out. I think I could do it on condition that you are a single man and that you are Catholic. The cab driver said, 'Oh, I am single and I am Catholic!' She said, 'OK. pull in to the alley' and he did.

She did her thing with a great deal of verve and panache and they were on the street again when the cab driver started crying. She said 'My child what's the matter?' He said 'Sister I have sinned, I lied, I lied...I'm married and I'm Jewish!

She replied 'That's okay mate. My name is Trevor and I'm on my way to a Fancy Dress Party.'


The President of Peru was giving a lavishly splendid Reception: outrageous given that many of his people were starving because of the El Nino Southern Oscillation. The British Ambassador put on his very best white tie and tails and sallied forth after several stiff Whiskies to conquer whomsoever at the Reception. The hall was crowded with the cream of Peruvian society, abuzz with excited conversation. Soon the Ambassador found a gorgeous creature dressed in the most dazzling raiment. He advanced and said. 'I say could I have this dance?' 'No' was the reply. 'I say, I say, I say; why ever not?' cried the British Ambassador, by now awash with Whisky.

'Because' replied the shimmering vision 'Firstly, I don't dance. Secondly, the music that is being played is the Peruvian National Anthem. Thirdly, the next piece of music that will be played is the British National Anthem; and fourthly because I am the Archbishop of Lima'.


This City chap decided that he needed some quiet place in the country to relax and unwind, so he built himself a small shack out on the treeless plains half way between Hay and Booligal. He was relaxing out on the front verandah watching the sun sinking slowly in the West across the vast plain of salt bush, when he noticed a tiny speck near the Horizon. He watched it for about twenty minutes before he could make out that it was a man on a motorbike. Twenty minutes later he could just make out that the man was large and athletic with a huge red beard. After another twenty minutes the man pulled up at the front verandah in a cloud of dust, took a case of beer of the back of his bike, and advanced saying 'G'day mate! Welcome to the Hay Plains! We are so glad to see you and we've organised a house warming. There's going to be music, there's going to be drinking, there's going to be dancing and there's going to be sex!' 'Thanks so much mate' said the City bloke 'How many people are coming?' 'This is the Hay Plains mate, there's no-one else coming' said the bikie.


A married woman is having an affair. Whenever her lover comes over, she puts her nine-year-old son in the closet. One day the woman hears a car in the driveway and puts her lover in the closet, as well. Inside the closet, the little boy says, 'It's dark in here, isn't it?' 'Yes it is' the man replies. 'You wanna buy a baseball?' the little boy asks. 'No thanks' the man replies. 'I think you do want to buy a baseball' the little extortionist continues. 'OK. How much?' the man replies after considering the position he is in. 'Twenty-five dollars' the little boy replies. 'TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS?!' the man repeats incredulously, but complies to protect his hidden position.

The following week, the lover is visiting the woman again when she hears a car in the driveway and, again, places her lover in the closet with her little boy. 'It's dark in here, isn't it?' the boy starts off. 'Yes it is' replies the man. 'Wanna buy a baseball glove?' the little boy asks. 'OK. How much?' the hiding lover responds, acknowledging his disadvantage. 'Fifty dollars' the boy replies and the transaction is completed. The next weekend, the little boy's father says 'Hey, son. Go get your ball and glove and we'll play some catch.' 'I can't. I sold them' replies the little boy.'

How much did you get for them?' asks the father, expecting to hear the profit in terms of lizards and candy. 'Seventy-five dollars' the little boy says. 'SEVENTY-FIVE DOLLARS?! That's thievery! I'm taking you to the church right now. You must confess your sin and ask for forgiveness' the father explains as he hauls the child away. At the church, the little boy goes into the confessional, draws the curtain, sits down, and says 'It's dark in here, isn't it?' 'Don't you start that in here' the priest says.


A new commander arrives at a base of the French Foreign Legion, and the captain is showing him around all the buildings. After he has made the rounds the commander looks at the captain and says, 'Wait a minute. You haven't shown me that small blue building over there. What's that used for?' The captain says, 'Well sir, you see that there are no women around here. So whenever the men feel the need of a woman, they go there and use the camel.' 'Enough!' says the commander in disgust. Well, two weeks later, the commander himself starts to feel in need of a woman. He goes to the captain and says, 'Tell me something, Captain.' Lowering his voice and glancing furtively around, he asks, 'Is the camel free anytime soon?' The captain says, 'Well, let me see.' He opens up his book. 'Why, yes, sir, the camel is free tomorrow afternoon at two o'clock. 'The commander says 'Put me down for two o'clock then.' So the next day at two o'clock the commander goes to the little blue building and opens the door. There inside he finds the cutest camel he's ever seen. Right next to the camel is a little step stool, so he closes the door behind him and puts the step stool directly behind the camel. He stands on the stool, drops his pants and begins to have sex with the camel. A minute later the captain walks in. 'Ahem, begging your pardon, sir' says the Captain 'but wouldn't it be wiser to ride the camel into town and find a woman like all the other men?'


Twin brothers were named Joe and John; Joe was the owner of an old dilapidated boat. It happened that John's wife died the same day that Joe's boat sank.

A few days later a kindly old lady met Joe on the street mistaking him for John, she said to him, 'I'm sorry for your loss, you must feel terrible'.

Joe said, 'Oh hell no, fact is I'm sort of glad to be rid of her. She was a rotten old thing from the beginning, her bottom was all shriveled up and she smelled like dead fish. She was always losing water, had a big crack up her back and a pretty big hole in the front which got bigger every time I used her. She leaked everywhere, was heavy on the juice and it was difficult to keep her upright. But what really finished her off was when four tough guys with huge rods rented her for a good time and she went down on them. I warned them that she wasn't any good, but they all wanted to have some fun with her anyhow. The damn fools all tried to get in her at the same time and it was just too much for the old girl and she split up the middle'.

The old woman had a heart attack.


Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson went on a camping trip. After a good meal and a bottle of wine they lay down for the night, and went to sleep. Some hours later, Holmes awoke and nudged his faithful friend. 'Watson, look up and tell me what you see.'

Watson replied, 'I see millions and millions of stars.' 'What does that tell you?' said Holmes.

Watson pondered for a minute. 'Astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three in the morning. Theologically, I can see that God is all-powerful and that we are small and insignificant. Meteorologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow.   What does it tell you Holmes?'

Holmes was silent for a minute, then spoke. 'Watson, you dickhead. Some bastard has stolen our tent.'


A wild young scapegrace of an Irishman was finally converted to wiser courses, but only after an elderly and distinguished Cardinal became his confessor and mentor.   The old man was a strict ascetic, known to be living in the odour of sanctity. The young man became his disciple in every respect, imitating the Cardinal's stringent codes of fasting, abstinence and mortification.  

When the Cardinal died at the age of 90 the disciple broke down. He forgot everything the old man had taught him. He got on the piss, he got on the tail, and at the end of a three-day bender he walked into the traffic and was killed. His wake was full of puzzled and incompatible people, some of whom didn't even drink.

Soon afterwards he was aware of his coffin floating, not so much up or down, but mostly sideways.   At last he floated through the gates of an enormous and very new hotel. In the porter's lodge he found St Peter and Satan bending over him, paperwork in hand.

'Where am I' he asked. 'Is this heaven or hell?'

'A bit of both really' said St Peter. Satan smiled and stroked his horns: 'A few years ago I recommended we have a team of efficiency consultants go right through the system.   They recommended new premises, ergonomic practices, multi-skilling, productivity bonuses; and that we abandon the old hard-and-fast distinction between heaven and hell.' 

The disciple thought for a moment. 'Does that mean there's a chance I can see my old master?'

St Peter looked grave. 'Not easy.   He's right up in Level 99, just below God's penthouse.   I can't promise, but if you don't blot your copybook, in a few months I might be able to get you a five-minute pass to visit Level 99.'

'That's all I want ... to see him again ... to apologise ... explain.   But where will you be putting me?'

Satan smiled a builder's smile. 'Level 45. One of the nicer levels of what we used to refer to as hell.'

Level 45 turned out to be an eternal opening night in an art gallery. The music was musak, the cocktail drink was staminade, and the paintings were modern art. Whenever you went you met another damned soul to who you had to express enthusiasm, or be whipped by devils disguised as art critics.

The Irishman did his best, and after six months St Peter brought him his 5-minute pass. Two angelic bouncers (with real wings) arrived, took him by each arm, and escorted him up to Level 99.

They pushed through the crowd. There were some people - and activities - that the disciple was surprised to see, but the bouncers said nothing and he assumed the saints knew their own business. At last, among a holy hedge of beards, he saw the head of his beloved mentor the Cardinal deep in conversation with a group of aged clerics. It was like a Quattrocento painting. But as the bouncers pushed him closer, he stopped short in horror. There, kneeling in front of his mentor's cassock, was an amazingly voluptuous young woman, clothed only in long curling strands of golden hair. She was like an angelic Lewinsky. Miraculously the old man, despite his severe face and withered frame, had a most creditable erection. It was shaped like a chicken drumstick, and she mouthed it ceaselessly.

The old man saw the shock on his disciple's face. Instead of a greeting, he raised an arm in warning, and called out sternly, 'Stop, my son! Pause! Assume nothing, and consider before you speak, lest you utter follies that may shame you forever.' At these words the gathering of clerics fell silent, waiting.  

The disciple's brain was reeling; but he knew he was facing a test that might make or break him forever. So he paused, and for the first time in his existence he tried to think deeply.   All the while the girl kept panting and working away. Finally, at a nod and a half-smile from the old man, the disciple found courage and spoke:

'Your Eminence, what a fool I have been! When I imitated your spiritual exercises - which I understood no more than a monkey - I assumed that you sought pain, mortification and celibacy because these things were good in themselves. How wrong! How crass of me! I see now that the reason you fled earthly pleasures was that you guessed God would make them all up to you a million-fold in heaven.   And thus, while I am damned forever for my few poor hours of sexual pleasure on earth, your 90 years of celibacy have been rewarded with eternal pleasure from the lips of this beautiful girl in heaven.'

At these words there was a clap of thunder. The bouncers tightened their grip, the saints hissed, the girl (who never paused in her labors) groaned, and the old man cried out in fury: 'Oh worthless, stupid, and unclean young man!   Did I not tell you to assume nothing? She's not my reward. I'm her punishment!'


This bloke won £600 at the races in Townsville and he decided that he would take a holiday in Brisbane. So he went out to Garbutt Aerodrome, got horribly pissed waiting for his flight, got on the wrong plane, and ended up in Cooktown. Having thought about it he decided that he might as well stay in Cooktown. He put his £600 on the bar at the Cooktown Hotel and asked the barman to tell him when it had run out.

He sat down and started drinking at 9.00 am. This is because Cooktown was on what was known then as 'Goldfields Hours', the pubs opened at 9.00 am and closed at 11.00 pm.

By noon he was getting really pissed. He noticed the Hotel cat walking out into the dazzling sun light outside with its tail erect, and he asked the barman 'Say, who's that funny looking stranger with one eye and a tall hat?'

By six he was so pissed that he was pouring the beer over his head so that some of it might be absorbed externally.

What he did not know, the poor sod, was that the owner had experienced a lot of trouble getting people to leave the bar at 11.00 pm. He had written a letter to Sir Edward Hallstrom at Taronga Park Zoo and asked if he could have a gorilla to train as a bouncer. Sir Edward had replied by telegram, saying 'No worries mate, gorilla is on its way', and the owner had trained it to do the job at 11.00 pm.

When the appointed hour had arrived, the gorilla came rushing out and grabbed the bloke from Townsville by the neck and the seat of his pants and was about to throw him out into the street. But the bloke had not won £600 on the races and caught the wrong plane in order to be treated like this. He retaliated vigorously, kicked the gorilla in the guts, grabbed it by the arm and frogged marched the astonished animal out into the street.

The bloke came back in, sat down, and ordered another beer, saying to the barman 'You know that's the trouble with these black sheilas, you buy them a fur coat and they think they're Joe Louis'.


FEUDALISM: You have two cows. Your lord takes some of the milk.

FASCISM: You have two cows. The government takes both, hires you to take care of them, and sells you the milk.

PURE COMMUNISM: You have two cows. Your neighbors help you take care of them, and you all share the milk.

APPLIED COMMUNISM: You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the government takes all the milk.

DICTATORSHIP: You have two cows. The government takes both and shoots you.

NIGERIAN DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. The government takes both and shoots you and sends the cows to Zurich.

MILITARISM: You have two cows. The government takes both and drafts you.

SINGAPOREAN DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. The government fines you for keeping two unlicensed farm animals in an apartment.

PURE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors decide who gets the milk.

REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors 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'. The cow sues you for breach of contract.

BRITISH DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. You feed them sheep's' brains and they go mad. The government doesn't do anything.

EUROPEAN DEMOCRACY: 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.

CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull.

HONG KONG CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell three of them to your publicly-listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity swap with associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax deduction for keeping five cows. The milk rights of six cows are transferred via a Panamanian intermediary to a Cayman Islands company secretly owned by the majority shareholder, who sells the right to all seven cows' milk back to the listed company. The annual report says that the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more. Meanwhile, you kill the two cows because of bad feng shui.

TOTALITARIANISM: You have two cows. The government takes them and denies they ever existed. Milk is banned.

POLITICAL CORRECTNESS: You are associated with (the concept of 'ownership' is a symbol of the phallocentric, warmongering, intolerant past) two differently aged (but no less valuable to society) bovines of non-specified gender.

COUNTERCULTURE: Wow, dude, there's like...these two cows, man. You have *got* to have some of this milk!

SURREALISM: You have two giraffes. The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.


Liz Taylor went to see her gynaecologist. She complained that, whereas she had got a few face lifts, she had never had a cunt lift. She insisted that she wanted it to look like it used to in the old days. She worried about the whole thing looking a bit like the mudguards on a Bedford Truck. She asked if he could give the whole arrangement a bit of a trim.

The gynaecologist was only too happy to get some business which usually went the way of the grossly overpaid plastic surgeons. He said he would oblige and to think nothing of it.

Liz Taylor said that there was only one condition, and that was that there would be absolutely no publicity: something that in Hollywood is almost impossible to deliver. The gynaecologist said 'no worries, she'll be apples' and the deal was struck. I hardly need to insert here that the gynaecologist was obviously an Australian.

Anyway, after the operation Liz Taylor awoke to see three bunches of flowers standing on the bed table beside her. She rang the gynaecologist immediately and reminded him about the 'no publicity' thing, and asked him who in the Hell had sent flowers.

'Ah! the flowers!' he said. 'Well one bunch is from me, to show my appreciation of our continuing business relationship. The other one is from the anaesthetist who really appreciated being involved in the project. And the third one is from the patient in the Burns Unit at Ward 18 who is very pleased with his new ears.'


The old time radio personality Jack Davey used to have a top race horse which he sent down to the Melbourne Cup. He gave his trainer, Willy Fennell, strict instructions. He said 'Willy, I want you to take this horse to Melbourne and win the Melbourne Cup, and when you've won it I want you to send me a telegram'. Willy Fennell duly set off in a southerly direction in late October and arrived at Melbourne three days later because in those days the Hume Highway was a goat track. After the Cup Jack Davey got a telegram. It said 'SF SF WF WF'. He scratched his head for days and even consulted the crossword puzzle editor of the Sydney Morning Herald, but it was no use. 

No-one could figure out what the telegram meant.

Willy Fennel finally got home with the horse, after getting into a Darts Competition at Euroa and a game of marbles at the Tumblong Pub. It was already four days after the Cup had been raced.

Jack Davey said 'Willy, what the fuck is SF SF WF WF mate. None of us back here in Sydney knew what you was talking about'. 'Well' said Willy Fennel 'I thought it would have been as clear as mud mate. I ran out of money at the races because of some bad of advice I got about Race 3. So, with very little cash to spare, I had to compress my message down to the absolute minimum size. So I wrote SF SF WF WF which I would have thought any bastard would understand immediately. It means 'Started Favourite, Slipped and Fell, Wouldn't it Fuck yer, Willy Fennell'.


A large crowd of people are gathering outside the Balgownie Hotel. There is a blonde, a brunette and a redhead; a vicar, a priest, a rabbi; a Bishop and an actress; a lawyer, an accountant, a doctor, a second hand car salesman, a farmer and his daughter; a New Zealander and two sheep; an Australian, a Pole, an Irishman, an Englishman, and a Scotsman; Rastus and Mandy; the Lord Mayor, Pat Franks, Paul Matters, the Federal Treasurer and the Leader of the Australian Democrats. They all walk into the Western Bar.

Joanne looks over them all and says 'Hang on a minute, is this some sort of a bloody joke?'


Here is a look into the corporate mind that is very interesting, educational, historical, completely true, and hysterical all at the same time:

The US standard railroad gauge (width between the two rails) is 4 feet, 8.5 inches. That's an exceedingly odd number. Why was that gauge used?

Because that's the way they built them in England, and the US railroads were built by English expatriates.

Why did the English build them like that? Because the first rail lines were built by the same people who built the pre-railroad tramways, and that's the gauge they used.

Why did "they" use that gauge then? Because the people who built the

tramways used the same jigs and tools that they used for building wagons which used that wheel spacing.

Okay! Why did the wagons have that particular odd wheel spacing? Well, if they tried to use any other spacing, the wagon wheels would

break on some of the old, long distance roads in England, because that's the spacing of the wheel ruts.

So who built those old rutted roads? The first long distance roads in Europe (and England) were built by Imperial Rome for their legions. The roads have been used ever since. And the ruts in the roads? Roman war chariots first formed the initial ruts, which everyone else had to match for fear of destroying their wagon wheels. Since the chariots were made for (or by) Imperial Rome, they were all alike in the matter of wheel spacing. The United States standard railroad gauge of 4 feet, 8.5 inches derives from the original specification for an Imperial Roman war chariot. Specifications and bureaucracies live forever. So the next time you are handed a specification and wonder what horse's ass came up with it, you may be exactly right, because the Imperial Roman war chariots were made just wide enough to accommodate the back ends of two war horses. Thus, we have the answer to the original question.

Now the twist to the story..............

There's an interesting extension to the story about railroad gauges and horses' behinds. When we see a Space Shuttle sitting on its launch pad, there are two big booster rockets attached to the sides of the main fuel tank. These are solid rocket boosters, or SRBs. The SRBs are made by Thiokol at their factory in Utah. The engineers who designed the SRBs might have preferred to make them a bit fatter, but the SRBs had to be shipped by train from the factory to the launch site. The railroad line from the factory had to run through a tunnel in the, mountains. The SRBs had to fit through that tunnel. The tunnel is slightly wider than the railroad track, and the railroad track is about as wide as two horses' behinds. So, the major design feature of what is arguably the world's most advanced transportation system was determined over two thousand years ago by the width of a Horse's Arse!


This bloke in Dublin won 50 million Punts on the Irish Lotto. He tried to think whom he could invite to share his victory over poverty in our time. Eventually he realised that he did not have any friends in Dublin. His only real friend was a pen pal in Boston. So he wrote him a letter saying that he had won 50 million punts and he would buy an airline ticket so the pen pal from Boston could come over to Ireland and help in the celebrations. The pen pal wrote back saying that he had never mentioned this before, but that he was a black, and would this present a problem? The Irishman responded that this was no problem at all and would his friend kindly tell him what date he could come over. The pen pal wrote back and said that the matter had never come up in their lengthy correspondence, but that he now felt compelled to mention that he was only one metre tall, and would this be too much of an embarrassment? The Irishman answered by return mail (they were both so used to writing interminably like this over many years) saying that embarrassment was the last thing on his mind and he just needed a friend to celebrate his extraordinary luck. The Bostonian pen pal then wrote again saying that he was on the verge of making a decision about the invitation, but there was one more thing to divulge. He said that he was a hunchback and would this cause the Irishman to recoil from his invitation? The Irishman lost patience and bought an open-dated air ticket which he put into his last letter which said that nothing would cause him to recoil from his invitation. He added a PS saying 'Please enclose a photo so that I will recognise you at the Dublin Airport'.


A bloke turned up at the tattooist and said he wanted to have a one pound note tattooed on his old fella. The tattooist was very doubtful about this idea. He said that it was technologically difficult and possibly dangerous. He mulled over it for a while and finally said that he would have a go at it provided the bloke could give him three good reasons why he needed this particular tattoo done on his old fella. The bloke replied that he wanted it done because (i) he liked handling money (ii) he like watching it grow, and (iii) he was interested in finding out how long it would take for his wife to blow it.


The following letters are taken from an actual incident involving a London hotel and one of it's guests. The Hotel ended up submitting the letters to the London Sunday Times!

Dear Maid,

Please do not leave any more of those little bars of soap in my bathroom since I have brought my own bath-sized Dial. Please remove the six unopened little bars from the shelf under the medicine chest and another three in the shower soap dish. They are in my way.

Thank you. S. Berman

Dear Room 635,

I am not your regular maid. She will be back tomorrow, Thursday, from her day off. I took the 3 hotel soaps out of the shower soap dish as you requested. The 6 bars on your shelf I took out of your way and put on top of your Kleenex dispenser in case you should change your mind. This leaves only the 3 bars I left today which my instructions from the management is to leave 3 soaps daily. I hope this is satisfactory.

Kathy, Relief Maid

Dear Maid - I hope you are my regular maid. Apparently Kathy did not tell you about my note to her concerning the little bars of soap. When I got back to my room this evening I found you had added 3 little Camays to the shelf under my medicine cabinet. I am going to be here in the hotel for two weeks and have brought my own bath-size Dial so I won't need those 6 little Camays which are on the shelf. They are in my way when shaving, brushing teeth, etc. Please remove them. S. Berman

Dear Mr. Berman,

My day off was last Wed. So the relief maid left 3 hotel soaps which we are instructed to do by the management. I took the 6 soaps which were in your way on the shelf and put them in the soap dish where your Dial was. I put the Dial in the medicine cabinet for your convenience. I didn't remove the 3 complimentary soaps which are always placed inside the medicine cabinet for all new check-ins and which you did not object to when you checked in last Monday. Please let me know if I can of further assistance. Your regular maid, Dotty

Dear Mr. Berman,

The assistant manager, Mr. Kensedder, informed me this morning that you called him last evening and said you were unhappy with your maid service. I have assigned a new girl to your room. I hope you will accept my apologies for any past inconvenience. If you have any future complaints please contact me so I can give it my personal attention. Call extension 1108 between 8AM and 5PM.Thank you. Elaine Carmen


Dear Miss Carmen,

It is impossible to contact you by phone since I leave the hotel for business at 7:45 AM and don't get back before 5:30 or 6PM. That's the reason I called Mr. Kensedder last night. You were already off duty. I only asked Mr. Kensedder if he could do anything about those little bars of soap. The new maid you assigned me must have thought I was a new check-in today, since she left another 3 bars of hotel soap in my medicine cabinet along with her regular delivery of 3 bars on the bath-room shelf. In just 5 days here I have accumulated 24 little bars of soap. Why are you doing this to me? S. Berman

Dear Mr. Berman,

Your maid, Kathy, has been instructed to stop delivering soap to your room and remove the extra soaps. If I can be of further assistance, please call extension 1108 between 8AM and 5PM. Thank you, Elaine Carmen, Housekeeper

Dear Mr. Kensedder,

My bath-size Dial is missing. Every bar of soap was taken from my room including my own bath-size Dial. I came in late last night and had to call the bellhop to bring me 4 little Cashmere Bouquets. S. Berman

Dear Mr. Berman,

I have informed our housekeeper, Elaine Carmen, of your soap problem. I cannot understand why there was no soap in your room since our maids are instructed to leave 3 bars of soap each time they service a room. The situation will be rectified immediately. Please accept my apologies for the inconvenience. Martin L. Kensedder Assistant Manager

Dear Mrs. Carmen,

Who [expletive deleted] left 54 little bars of Camay in my room? I came in last night and found 54 little bars of soap. I don't want 54 little bars of Camay. I want my one [expletive deleted] bar of bath-size Dial. Do you realize I have 54 bars of soap in here. All I want is my bath size Dial. Please give me back my bath-size Dial. S. Berman

Dear Mr. Berman,

You complained of too much soap in your room so I had them removed. Then you complained to Mr. Kensedder that all your soap was missing so I personally returned them. The 24 Camays which had been taken and the 3 Camays you are supposed to receive daily. I don't know anything about the 4 Cashmere Bouquets. Obviously your maid, Kathy, did not know I had returned your soaps so she also brought 24 Camays plus the 3 daily Camays. I don't know where you got the idea this hotel issues a bath-size Dial. I was able to locate some bath-size Ivory which I left in you room. Elaine Carmen Housekeeper

Dear Mrs. Carmen,

Just a short note to bring you up-to-date on my latest soap inventory.

As of today I possess:

  • On the shelf under medicine cabinet - 18 Camay in 4 stacks of 4 and 1  stack of 2.
  • On the Kleenex dispenser - 11 Camay in 2 stacks of 4 and 1 stack of 3.
  • On the bedroom dresser - 1 stack of 3 Cashmere Bouquet,
  • 1 stack of 4 hotel-size Ivory, and 8 Camay in 2 stacks of 4.
  • Inside the medicine cabinet - 14 Camay in 3 stacks of 4 and 1 stack of    2.
  • In the shower soap dish - 6 Camay, very moist.
  • On the northeast corner of tub - 1 Cashmere Bouquet, slightly used.
  • On the northwest corner of tub - 6 Camays in 2 stacks of 3.


Please ask Kathy when she services my room to make sure the stacks are neatly piled and dusted. Also, please advise her that stacks of more than 4 have a tendency to tip. May I suggest that my bedroom window sill is not in use and will make an excellent spot for future soap deliveries. One more item, I have purchased another bar of bath-sized Dial which I am keeping in the hotel vault in order to avoid further misunderstandings. S. Berman.


This inebriated bloke wandered into the Catholic Church and after falling over a few pews staggered into the confessional. The attendant priest waited for a while for the bloke to start his confession, but there was dead silence in the other cubicle. The priest cleared his throat loudly to indicate his presence, but still no words came from the other side. After a while the priest knocked on the partition, in case the penitent had fallen asleep. But the bloke was not going to respond in the usual way. Instead he said 'There's no use knocking mate. There is no paper in this one either'.


The Douglas Adams of Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy fame writes:

Australia is a very confusing place, taking up a large amount of the Bottom half of the planet. It is recognisable from orbit because of many unusual features, including what at first looks like an enormous bite taken out of its southern edge; a wall of sheer cliffs which plunge deep into the girting sea.

Geologists assure us that this is simply an accident of geomorphology and plate tectonics, but they still call it the "Great Australian Bight" proving that not only are they covering up a more frightening theory, but also they can't spell either.

The first of the confusing things about Australia is the status of the place. Where other land masses and sovereign lands are classified as either continent, island, or country, Australia is considered all three. Typically, it is unique in this.

The second confusing thing about Australia are the animals. They can be divided into three categories: Poisonous, Odd, and Sheep.

It is true that of the 10 most poisonous arachnids on the planet, Australia has 9 of them. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that of the 9 most poisonous arachnids, Australia has all of them. However, there are curiously few snakes, possibly because the spiders have killed them all. But even the spiders won't go near the sea. Any visitors should be careful to check inside boots (before putting them on), under toilet seats (before sitting down) and generally everywhere else. A stick is very useful for this task.

Strangely, it tends to be the second class of animals (the Odd) that are more dangerous. The creature that kills the most people each year is the common Wombat. It is nearly as ridiculous as its name, and spends its life digging holes in the ground, in which it hides. During the night it comes out to eat worms and grubs.

The wombat kills people in two ways: First, the animal is indestructible. Digging holes in the hard Australian clay builds muscles that outclass Olympic weight lifters. At night, they often wander the roads. Semi-trailers (Road Trains) have hit them at high speed, with all 9 wheels on one side, and this merely makes them very annoyed. They express this by snorting, glaring, and walking away. Alas, to smaller cars, the wombat becomes a symmetrical launching pad, with results that can be imagined, but not adequately described. The second way the wombat kills people relates to its burrowing behaviour. If a person happens to put their hand down a Wombat hole, the Wombat will feel the disturbance and think "Ho! My hole is collapsing!" at which it will brace its muscled legs and push up against the roof of its burrow with incredible force, to prevent its collapse. Any unfortunate hand will be crushed, and attempts to withdraw will cause the Wombat to simply bear down harder. The unfortunate will then bleed to death through their crushed hand as the wombat prevents him from seeking assistance. This is considered the third most embarrassing known way to die, and Australians don't talk about it much.

At this point, we would like to mention the Platypus, estranged relative of the mammal, which has a duck-bill, otter's tail, webbed feet, lays eggs, detects its aquatic prey in the same way as the electric eel, and has venomous barbs attached to its hind legs, thus combining all 'typical' Australian attributes into a single improbable creature.

The last confusing thing about Australia is the inhabitants. First, a short history: Some time around 40,000 years ago, some people arrived in boats from the north. They ate all the available food, and lot of them died. The ones that survived learned respect for the balance of nature, man's proper place in the scheme of things, and spiders. They settled in, and spent a lot of the intervening time making up strange stories. Then, around 200 years ago, Europeans arrived in boats from the north. More accurately, European convicts were sent, with a few deranged and stupid people in charge. They tried to plant their crops in Autumn (failing to take account of the reversal of the seasons when moving from the top half of the planet to the bottom), ate all their food, and a lot of them died. About then the sheep arrived, and have been treasured ever since.

It is interesting to note here that the Europeans always consider themselves vastly superior to any other race they encounter, since they can lie, cheat, steal, and litigate (marks of a civilised culture they say) whereas all the Aboriginals can do is happily survive being left in the middle of a vast red-hot desert, equipped with a stick. Eventually, the new lot of people stopped being Europeans on Extended Holiday and became Australians.

The changes are subtle, but deep, caused by the mind-stretching expanses of nothingness and eerie quiet, where a person can sit perfectly still and look deep inside themselves to the core of their essence, their reasons for being, and the necessity of checking inside your boots every morning for fatal surprises. They also picked up the most finely tuned sense of irony in the world, and the Aboriginal gift for making up stories. Be warned.

There is also the matter of the beaches. Australian beaches are simply the nicest and best in the entire world. Although anyone actually venturing into the sea will have to contend with sharks, stinging jellyfish, stonefish (a fish which sits on the bottom of the sea, pretends to be a rock, and has venomous barbs sticking out of its back that will kill just from the pain) and surfboarders. However, watching a beach sunset is worth the risk.

As a result of all this hardship, dirt, thirst, and wombats, you would expect Australians to be a dour lot. Instead, they are genial, jolly, cheerful, and always willing to share a kind word with a stranger, unless they are an American. Faced with insurmountable odds and impossible problems, they smile disarmingly and look for a stick. Major engineering feats have been performed with sheets of corrugated iron, string, and mud.

Alone of all the races on earth, they seem to be free from the 'Grass is Greener on the other side of the fence' syndrome, and roundly proclaim that Australia is, in fact, the other side of that fence. They call the land "Oz", "Godzone" (a verbal contraction of "God's Own Country") and "Best bloody place on earth, bar none, strewth." The irritating thing about this is they may be right.

There are some traps for the unsuspecting traveller, though. Do not under any circumstances suggest that the beer is imperfect, unless you are comparing it to another kind of Australian beer. Do not wear a Hawaiian shirt. Religion and Politics are safe topics of conversation (Australians don't care too much about either) but Sport is a minefield. The only correct answer to "So, howdya' like our country, eh?" is "Best {insert your own regional swear word here} country in the world!"

It is very likely that, on arriving, some cheerful Australians will 'adopt' you on your first night, and take you to a pub where Australian Beer is served. Despite the obvious danger, do not refuse. It is a form of initiation rite. You will wake up late the next day with an astonishing hangover, a foul-taste in your mouth, and wearing strange clothes. Your hosts will usually make sure you get home, and waive off any legal difficulties with "It's his first time in Australia, so we took him to the pub." to which the policeman will sagely nod and close his notebook.

Be sure to tell the story of these events to every other Australian, you encounter, adding new embellishments at every stage, and noting how strong the beer was. Thus you will be accepted into this unique culture. Most Australians are now urban dwellers, having discovered the primary use of electricity, which is air-conditioning and refrigerators.


Typical Australian sayings:


     "It's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick."

     "She'll be right."

"And down from Kosciusko, where the pine clad ridges raise

their torn and rugged battlements on high,

where the air is clear as crystal, and the white stars fairly blaze

at midnight in the cold and frosty sky.

And where, around the overflow, the reed beds sweep and sway

to the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide.

The Man from Snowy River is a household word today,

and the stockmen tell the story of his ride."


Tips to Surviving Australia:

Don't ever put your hand down a hole for any reason whatsoever. We mean it.

The beer is stronger than you think, regardless of how strong you think it is.

Always carry a stick.


Do not attempt to use Australian slang, unless you are a trained linguist and good in a fist fight.

Thick socks.

Take good maps. Stopping to ask directions only works when there are people nearby.

If you leave the urban areas, carry several litres of water with you at all times, or you will die.

Even in the most embellished stories told by Australians, there is always a core of truth that it is unwise to ignore.

See Also: "Deserts: How to die in them", "The Stick: Second most useful thing ever" and "Poisonous and Venomous arachnids, insects, animals, trees, shrubs, fish and sheep of Australia, volumes 1-42"


This one is all about the entirely arbitrary notion of sin.

Three ladies went to heaven and St Peter met them at the huge rusting iron gates. His faced was bearded and distraught; haunted by the difficult task he had in keeping order within the vast estates of heaven. Peremptorily, he informed them that, contrary to what they had been told on Earth, sin was still something that they must keep an eye open for in heaven: but there was only one sin that had to be avoided.

Heaven, he explained, was entirely covered wall-to-wall by Siamese Trotting Ducks. To the ladies astonished gaze, he threw open the great creaking, rattling gates of heaven, revealing a vista of these extraordinary ducks for as far as the eye could see. He said that it was regarded as a sin to tread on any of the Siamese Trotting Ducks. With that he wished them well and went back to his job of painting the gates ineffectively with a thin coating of cold galvanising.

On the first day one of the ladies trod on a duck and the loud squawking resulted in St Peter turning up with one of the ugliest men ever to be seen. He even made Quasimodo look appetising.   St Peter observed in a detached sort of way that a sin had been committed (he obviously had his mind set on something else, probably the heaven-wide shortage of cold gal) and chained the ugly looking fellow to the crestfallen lady. He said that the punishment would last for a 100 years or so, but in the end they could be unchained because of the all-merciful nature of the Trinity.

On the second day the second lady trod on a duck. St Peter arrived, covered in rust flakes, bringing with him a person even uglier that Yasser Arafat. He repeated the procedure before returning to the endless task of maintaining heaven's border protection policy.

On the third day the third lady was treading very carefully through heaven when St Peter arrived with a raving Adonis, a man who made Michael Angelo's 'David' look tawdry. He chained the image of perfection to the lady. She was obviously relieved by this turn of events, but her curiosity got the better of her and she asked St Peter, with great respect, why this could be happening; because she had not trodden on a duck.

'I know you didn't transgress' said St Peter wearily, 'but he recently trod on two ducks and his sentence will be 200 years before our great mercy can be manifest'.


There was a bloke drifting past in a balloon. He was more or less lost. He saw another bloke down on the ground so he yelled out to him 'Mate can you tell me where I am and which direction I am going?'

'Sure' yelled out the bloke on the Ground 'You are up in a balloon and your heading in that direction'.

'I can see that you are from the IT Help Desk' shouted the man in the balloon'.

'Why would you think I was from the IT Help Desk?' responded the man on the ground.

'Because everything you have told me is quite true and it is also bloody useless' moaned the man in the balloon.

'Well, I can see that you are the Vice-Chancellor' replied the IT Help Desk.

'How the Hell did you know I was the Vice-Chancellor' shouted the man in the balloon.

'Because you are drifting around at a very high altitude, you don't know where you are, or where you are going. And for some reason I don't understand you think it's my fault'.


There is an Irishman called Sean standing on the bank of the River Liffey in Dublin and he sees his mate on the other side of the river.  So he yells out to him ‘How do I get to the other side of the river, Paddy, so as we can go and enjoy a Guinness or four?’

‘You’re on the other side of the bloody river, you great useless ninny.  Why in the name of all the Saints are you asking me to tell you how you got there, you blathering pudding-head’.

‘Well how did you get to the side you are on, you cracked chamber pot, sitting around over there like a bottle of uncollected milk’

‘I didn’t get to this side you spotty-faced bastard.  I have been here all the time waiting for you to turn up.  What are you doing over there?’

‘I’ve had an idea’ said Sean.  “I’ll go west to the Ha’penny Bridge and cross over there, while you could go east to the O’Connell Bridge and cross over there.  And then we can have a drink”.

Paddy thought about that idea and then said “Sean, it won’t work.  I know it won’t,  But let’s try it anyway.”


This farmer wanted to go down to Sydney for the Royal Easter Show, so he briefed his Overseer and told him that he would ring from time to time to see how things were going.

After a couple of days he rang home and asked the Overseer what goes.

'Well' said the Overseer; 'Do you want to hear the good news or the bad news'.

'Give me the bad news first' said the farmer.

'Well, the bad news' said the overseer cautiously 'is that the dog's dead.'

'Dog Dead! which dog?'

'It's the Border Collie.'

'But the Border Collie is only two years old, what the Hell happened to him?'

'Yes, he was a good young dog alright' said the overseer 'but he was kicked to death by the horse.'

'Horse! which horse?'

'The strawberry roan.'

'But' yelled the farmer 'the strawberry roan was the quietest horse on the farm. How did he get at the dog?'

'Well' said the Overseer 'there's no doubt that the strawberry roan was a very quiet horse, but he was panicked by the fire in the barn.'

'Fire in the barn!' screamed the farmer 'we had a 40-foot fire break all round the barn. How did it get alight?'

'Yes, I remember doing the fire break' said the overseer 'but the barn was set ablaze by the sparks flying from the house'.

'Sparks flying from the house!' roared the farmer 'the house was all electric, there should not have been any fires there.'

'That's correct' said the Overseer 'but the trouble was that the candles around your wife's coffin set fire to the curtains.'

'Wife's coffin! Candles! curtains!' shrieked the farmer. His mind was in a whirl of mad conjecture when he remembered that there was good news.

'Listen to me' he said to the Overseer 'you said there was some good news. What in the blazes was it?'

'Right, the goods news' said the Overseer, cheering up a bit on the possibility of getting a positive spin on the recent events 'the good news is that the heat from the two fires has ripened the tomatoes'.


This bloke with a cigarette asked his friend for a light. His friend pulled a 12 inch Bic Lighter out of his pocket and gave his friend a light.

'What the heck is that?' said the smoker 'I've never seen a lighter like that anywhere.'

'Well, I got it from a Genie' said his friend, and with that he pulled the Genie out of his other pocket and put him on the table.

'He gives wishes, you should ask him.'

'OK' said the smoker 'I would like a million bucks'.

With that there was a great whirring of wings and a million ducks flew down and surrounded the smoker.

'Heck' said the smoker 'I didn't ask for a million ducks!'

'No' said his friend 'the Genie is a bit deaf. I didn't ask him for a 12 inch Bic either.'


And now one for Rabbie Burns Day, 24 January.

Tony Blair is visiting a Hospital in Edinburgh. He enters a ward full of patients with no obvious sign of injury or illness and greets one of them. The patient replies 'Fair fa your honest sonsie face, great chieftain of the puddin' race, Aboon them a you take your place, Painch, tripe or thairm As langs my airm.'

Blair is confused, so he just grins and moves on to the next patient, who greets him with 'Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it, But we hae meat and we can eat, So let the Lord be thankit'.

Blair is bewildered and his grin is now rictus-like. He moves to the next patient who chants 'Wee sleekit, cowerin' timrous beastie, thou needna start awa sae hastie, Wi' bickering brattle.'

Now seriously troubled Blair turns to the accompanying doctor and asks him 'What kind of a facility is this? Is it a mental ward?' 'No' replied the doctor 'This is the Serious Burns unit.'


Which reminds me of the bloke who bought a horse for $2 million off Boz Skaggs, and shortly after he bought it, it died. So he decided to sell it to a Jew in Darlinghurst and he said 'I can't get me money back mate. What will you pay for a dead horse worth $2 Million?'

So Moshe says 'OK mate, I am completely mother-fetching broke but I will buy it off you for $200'. So the deal was done.

The next thing you know there is a big advertisement in the Sydney Morning Herald. 'Two million dollar Boz Skaggs horse for sale, knock down price $100 in a Calcutta Auction style sale, bids close Tuesday'

So around about $14,000,000 roll in over the next week and the Jew says in the paper the week after the draw, 'Draw concluded: Boz Skaggs horse won by Mr and Mrs Dalrymple of 43 Bexley Close, Kogarah.

So a few days later Mr Dalrymple turns up with a horse trailer and says 'OK where's the horse'. So Moshe says 'The horse is a dead horse, it has expired, it has gone to heaven'. And Mr Dalrymple said   'This is an outrageous abuse of the law on raffles'. Whereupon Moshe says 'That's OK mate I looked up the law and it says you can have your money refunded'. And he gave him $100. (NOTE: this is not an anti-semitic joke in the meaning of the Act. It is actually a joke about people in Kogarah).


Wiremu, a New Zealander, was in Australia to watch the upcoming Rugby World Cup and was not feeling well, so he decided to see a doctor.

"Hey doc, I dun't feel so good, ey" said Wiremu.

The doctor gave him a thorough examination and informed Wiremu that he had long existing and advanced prostate problems and that the only cure was testicular removal.

"No way doc" replied Wiremu "I'm gitting a sicond opinion ey!"

The second Aussie doctor gave Wiremu the same diagnosis and also advised him that testicular removal was the only cure.

Not surprisingly, Wiremu refused the treatment.

Wiremu was devastated, but with the Rugby World Cup just around the corner he found an expat Kiwi doctor and decided to get one last opinion from someone he could trust.

The Kiwi doctor examined him and said "Wiremu, you huv prostate suckness ey".

"What's the cure thin doc ey?" asked Wiremu hoping for a different answer.

"Wull, Wiremu", said the Kiwi doctor "Wi're gonna huv to cut off your balls."

"Phew, thunk god for thut!" said Wiremu, "Those Aussie bastards wanted to take my test tickets off me!"  


A mother decided to visit her young son who was flatting near where his University was. She knew that he had a flat mate, but was not aware that she was a young lady of bewitching beauty.

They all met when the mother arrived, and then the ravishing one left to go to a Lecture leaving mother with son.

'Dear son said the mother 'I am not one to pry, and far be it from me to doubt anything that you tell me, but I was just wondering if you and your flat mate are having some sort of relationship?'

'Mother' cried the son 'How could you think such a thing. We are just sharing a flat and that is all there is to it. Both of us are far to busy with our work to have any time for anything else.'

So they had a cup of tea and the mother went home.

A couple of days later the young stunner said to the bloke 'This is a real puzzle. The sterling silver sugar bowl has disappeared and the only visitor we have had was your mother, the day before yesterday.'

So the bloke rang his mother and said 'I am not insinuating anything Mother, but I was just wondering if you noticed a sterling silver sugar bowl here, because it has disappeared. Far be it from me to doubt your probity and I have no doubt that there is a rational explanation for the disappearance, so I was wondering if you could enlighten me on this matter.'

The Mother replied 'Yes son. I also never doubt that you always tell me the truth and I trust your integrity completely. You will find the sterling silver sugar bowl under the sheets in your flat mate's bedroom.'


And this one is a joke for all Musicians.

Three blokes fronted up at the pearly gates of heaven and were greeted by St Peter. 'Ullo ullo, ullo, what's all this then' he said. The blokes explained that they wished to be admitted to Heaven. 'OK' said the first pope, 'First I have to ask you some questions. How much did you earn?' he said to the first bloke. 'I earned $6 million a year' said the first bloke. 'Right' said St Peter. 'You will find a lot of Bankers in here. In you go and you can have the Daimler in there parked on the other side of the heavenly road'.   'And how much did you earn?' he said to the second bloke. 'I earned $85, 453 per annum said the second bloke. 'Ah, we don't have many academics up here. In you go, you can have that pushbike over there'. Turning to the last bloke, St Peter said 'And how much did you earn?' 'I earned $3,500 a year' said the last candidate for heaven. 'Interesting' said St Peter 'and what instrument did you play?


An Irishman who lived in London became tired of people saying to him 'Oh, you're Irish, aren't you?' So he went to a well known elocutionist called Professor Henry Higgins and took lessons at enormous expense for a month. At the end of that time he had a perfect Oxford accent.

Full of confidence he sallied for and found a shop with many papers on the counter. He entered and said in the Queen's English 'Hullo my good fellow, would you give me a copy of the London Times, the Manchester Guardian and the Financial Times.'

'Oh, you're Irish, aren't you?' said the shop keeper. 

'How did you know that?' said the astonished Irishman. 

'Because this is a fish and chip shop mate, not a news agency.'


There are approximately two billion children (persons under 18) in the world. However, since Santa does not visit children of Muslim, Hindu, Jewish or Buddhist (except maybe in Japan) religions, this reduces the workload for Christmas night to 15% of the total, or 378 million (according to the population reference bureau).

At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that comes to 108 million homes, presuming there is at least one good child in each.

Santa has about 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 967.7 visits per second.

This is to say that for each Christian household with a good child, Santa has around 1/1000th of a second to park the sleigh, hop out, jump down the chimney, fill the stocking, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left for him, get back up the chimney, jump into the sleigh, and get on to the next house.

Assuming that each of these 108 million stops is evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false, but will accept for the purposes of our calculations), we are now talking about 0.78 miles per household; a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting bathroom stops or breaks. This means Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second -- 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second, and a conventional reindeer can run (at best) 15 miles per hour. The payload of the sleigh adds another interesting element.

Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized LEGO set (two pounds), the sleigh is carrying over 500 thousand tons, not counting Santa himself. On land, a conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds.

Even granting that the "flying" reindeer can pull 10 times the normal amount, the job can't be done with eight or even nine of them -- Santa would need 360,000 of them. This increases the payload (not counting the weight of the sleigh) another 54,000 tons, or roughly seven times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch). 600,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance -- this would heat up the reindeer in the same fashion as a spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer would adsorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy per second each. In short, they would burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team would be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second, or right about the time Santa reached the fifth house on his trip.

Not that it matters, however, since Santa, as a result of accelerating from a dead stop to 650 m.p.s. in .001 seconds, would be subjected to acceleration forces of 17,000 G's. A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of the sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, instantly crushing his bones and organs and reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo.

Therefore, if Santa did exist, he would be dead by now.


One day this bloke said to his friend, "My elbow really hurts. I suppose I should see a doctor." His friend said "Don't do that. There's a computer down in the Mall that can diagnose anything quicker and cheaper than a doctor. Simply put in a sample of your urine and a $10 note and the computer will diagnose your problem and tell you what you can do about it. It will costs less than going to the Quack."

The bloke decided he had nothing to lose, so he filled a jar with a urine sample and went into town. Finding the computer, he poured in the sample and deposited the $10.00.

The computer started making some noises and various lights started flashing.

After a brief pause, out popped a small slip of paper which read:

You have a sore elbow. Soak your arm in warm water, avoid heavy labor and apply horse liniment. It will be better in two weeks.

That evening while thinking how amazing this new technology was and how it would change medical science forever, he began to wonder if the computer could be fooled. So he mixed together some tap water, a stool sample from his dog, and urine samples from his wife and daughter. To top it off, he whacked off into the concoction. Then he went back to the Mall, poured the sample into the computer and deposited the $10.00.

The machine again made the usual noises, flashed lights, and printed out the following analysis:

Your tap water is low on Flouride. Get a toothbrush.

Your dog has ringworm. Bathe him with anti-fungal shampoo.

Your daughter is on cocaine. Put her into rehabilitation.

Your wife is pregnant . . . twin girls. They aren't yours. Get a lawyer.

And if you don't stop whacking off, your elbow will never get better.


This man goes to confession and says, "Forgive me father for I have sinned." The priest asks if he would like to confess his sins and the man replies that he used the "F-word" over the weekend.

The priest says, "Oh ok, just say three Hail Marys and try to watch your language.

The man replies that he would like to confess as to why he said the "F-word". The priest sighs and tells him to continue. "Well father I played golf on Sunday with my buddies instead of going to church." The priest says, "And you got upset over that and swore?" The man replied, "No, that wasn't why I swore. On the first tee I hooked my drive well left into the trees."   The priest said, "And that's when you swore."

The man replied, a little testily because of the constant interruptions, "No, it wasn't. When I walked up the fairway, I noticed my ball got a lucky bounce and I had a clear shot to the green. However, before I could hit the ball, a squirrel ran by and grabbed my ball and scurried up a tree."

The priest asked, "Is that when you said the 'F-word'?"

The man replied, "No, because an eagle then flew by and caught the squirrel in its sharp talons and flew away."   The priest let out a breath and queried, "Is that when you swore?"   The man replied, "No, because the eagle flew over the green and the dying squirrel let go of my golf ball and it landed within 5 inches of the hole."

The priest screamed, "Don't tell me you missed the fucking putt!"


A hip young man goes out and buys the best car available: a brand new Ferrari GTO. It is also the most expensive car in the world, and it costs him $500,000. He takes it out for a spin and stops for a red light.

An old man on a moped (looking about 75 years old) pulls up next to him. The old man looks over at the sleek, shiny car and asks, "What kind of car you got there, sonny?

The young man replies, "A Ferrari GTO. It cost half a million dollars!" "That's a lot of money," says the old man. "Why does it cost so much?" "Because, this car can do up to 320 miles an hour!" states the young dude proudly.

The moped driver asks, "Mind if I take a look inside?" "No problem," replies the owner.

So the old man pokes his head in the window and looks around. Then sitting back on his moped, the old man says, "That's a pretty nice car, all right but I'll stick with my moped!"

Just then the light changes so the guy decides to show the old man just what this car can do. He floors it, and within 20 seconds the speedometer reads 160 mph. Suddenly, he notices a dot in his rear view mirror. It seems to be getting closer.

He slows down to see what it could be and suddenly, whhhoooossshhh! Something whips by him, going much faster!!!! "What on earth could be going faster than my Ferrari?!" the young man asks himself.

He floors the accelerator and takes the Ferrari up to 250 mph. Then, up ahead of him, he sees that it's the old man on the moped. Amazed that the moped could pass his Ferrari he gives it some more gas and passes the moped at 275 mph. whoooooosh!

He's feeling pretty good until he looks in his mirror and sees the old man gaining on him again. Astounded by the speed of this old guy he floors the gas pedal and takes the Ferrari all the way up to 320 mph.

Not ten seconds later he sees the moped bearing down on him again. The Ferrari is flat out and there's nothing he can do. Suddenly the moped plows into the back of his Ferrari, demolishing the rear end. The young man jumps out, and unbelievably; the old man is still alive!!!

He runs up to the mangled man and says, "Oh my God! Is there anything I can do for you?"

The old man whispers with his dying breath, " suspenders... from your side-view mirror.


These guys are working on a building site and the little five year old girl next door visits the site from time to time. The guys enjoy her company so they give her a job to do. They said that if she could bring some tea and biscuits over they would reward her. So the next day she came over with tea and biscuits on her toy tray

The guys are very impressed so they give her a dollar (on the basis that equal employment opportunity is a myth).

The little girl is thrilled to pieces and she shows her parents the results of her efforts. The parents are very pleased and they decide that it would be nice to teach their lovely little treasure a lesson in economics. So they take her to the Bank.

The lovely little girl goes up the Bank Manager (Banks had Managers then, OK) and the little girl said 'I want to open an account with my very first earnings'.

The Bank Manager said 'Oh isn't that a great idea, and where did you make this money?'

The picture of innocence said 'I have been making tea for the nice guys on the building site next door.'

'That is a very good idea' said the Bank Manager 'and do you thing they will pay you for making tea tomorrow.'

'Yes' said the infant 'But it depends on whether those cock-suckers at Bunnings get off their big arses and deliver the fucking Gyprock on time.'


The aeroplane took off from Mascot and the voice can wafting over the intercom as follows: 'Ladies and Gentlemen, we welcome you aboard QF 5 from Sydney to Brisbane. The flight should be smooth and we should be arriving at the scheduled time. Your pilot is Judy Armitage and the Co-Pilot is Heather Duffy. I am your flight hostess Sharon Stokes. Please do not smoke in the toilets'.

One of the passengers interrogated the Flight Attendant as she strolled past with assorted bottles of grog. 'Excuse me Miss' he said 'is it true that this flight is entirely controlled by women?'

'Yes' said the Flight Attendant.

'Well I'll be buggered' said the passenger 'things must be a bit different up there in the cockpit'

'Yes they are' said the Flight Attendant 'and we don't call it the cockpit any more. It is referred to as the box office'.


Pat and Mick were staggering down the length and breadth of the River Liffey Promenade, when Pat found a mirror lying on the ground. He picked it up and looked at it. 'Holy Mother of God' he said 'who in all of Ireland is this odd looking chap in here then'. Mick snatched the mirror from him and looked into the reflective surface. 'Patrick, you great useless ninny' he said 'for sure it is me who is in this glass here. I'm completely unravelled that you didn't know it was me'.


This Frog was waiting in the queue for a bank teller who's name was Patricia Whack. When it was his turn he jumped on to the counter and requested a $30,000 loan. Miss Whack was a bit taken aback, but she rallied bravely and said that the bank only gave loans to people who had collateral. The Frog produced a small pink glass elephant and said that it would be his collateral. Miss Whack took a look at the elephant and said that it was probably insufficient for a loan of $30,000. The Frog said 'That's OK, my dad is Mick Jagger, and he will go guarantor for the loan'.

Miss Whack by now had run out of ideas so she said that she would have to consult with the Manager. She went into the Manager's Office and told him the whole incredible story, ending by showing him the elephant and asking the Manager what it was. He replied:

It's a nick nack, Patty Whack,

Give the Frog a loan.

His old man's a Rolling Stone.


This bloke wanders into a Porn Shop and asks for a blow-up doll. The assistant says "First there are a few simple questions. Do you want a boy one or a girl one?"

"I'll have a girl one" says the bloke.

"OK" says the assistant "now do you want a black one, a white one or a yellow one?"

"I'll have a white one" says the bloke, gradually revealing his prejudices.

"Fine" says the assistant "and finally, do you want a Christian one or a Muslim one?"

"Holy Mackerel" says the bloke "I had no idea there was a religious differentiation in blow-up dolls. What are the differences?"

"The Muslim one blows herself up" says the assistant.


This joke is about risk management, which is a subject that is getting a lot of attention around the world these days.

An Englishman and Irishman were the event organisers for the grand tour of Ireland by Pope Boniface the XXIII. Things were swinging along quite well. But when the Englishman and the Irishman got back from the Pub one night they found the Pope lying on his great stately bed stark raving dead.

'Gadzooks' said the Englishman 'this is an absolute shower. What is the decent think to do, do you think old chap'?

The Irishman said 'There is only one thing to do Longbottom. We have to quietly lock the door, leaving his Holiness inside to sleep the sleep of the saints for a wee bit longer, while we rush down to Dublin and have a quick bet on the possibility that the Pope dies today.

Years later the Irishman was cruising around Dublin in his chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce when he came across the Englishman who was very obviously down on his luck.

'Longbottom' cries the Dubliner 'For the love of Jesus Mary and Joseph, tell me what terrible misfortunes have fallen upon your poor head then'.

'Well its like this' said Longbottom 'I looked at the odds and it seemed to me that there would be a much better dividend if I took a bet on the Pope's death together with a daily double on the same thing happening to the Archbishop of Canterbury. That was my downfall old chap. Bad risk management can never be fixed in the aftermath. I can't even blame it on bad advice, because it was my own idea.'

'You great blathering fool Longbottom' cried the Irishman 'I took professional advice and they told me that I should take out the daily double myself. So I didn't. That is the difference me old mate. Never do anything that they tell you to do, even when they didn't tell you to do it in the first place.'


A man boarded an aircraft at London's Heathrow Airport and taking his seat as he settled in, he noticed a very beautiful woman boarding the plane. He realized she was heading straight toward his seat and bingo, she took the seat right beside him.

Eager to strike up a conversation, he blurted out, "business trip or vacation?" She turned, smiled enchantingly and said; "Business. I'm going to the annual nymphomaniac convention in the United States."

He swallowed hard here was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen sitting next to him, and she was going to a meeting for nymphomaniacs!

Struggling to maintain his composure, he calmly asked, "What's your business role at this convention?"

"Lecturer," she responded. "I use my experience to debunk some of the popular myths about sexuality."

"Really", he smiled, "what myths are those?"

"Well," she explained, "one popular myth is that African-American men are the most well endowed when, in fact, it's the Native American Indian who is most likely to possess that trait.

Another popular myth is that French men are the best lovers, when actually it is the men of Greek descent. We have also found that the best potential lovers in all categories are the Irish."

Suddenly the woman became uncomfortable and blushed. "I'm sorry," she said. I really shouldn't be discussing this with you. I don't even know your name."

"Tonto," the man said. "Tonto Papadopoulos, but my friends call me Paddy."


Brian came home from the pub late one Friday evening stinking drunk, as he often did, and crept into bed beside his wife who was already asleep. He gave a peck on the cheek and fell asleep. When he awoke he found a strange man standing at the end of his bed wearing a long flowing white robe.

"Who the hell are you" demanded Brian, "and what are you doing in my bedroom?" The mysterious Man answered "This isn't your bedroom and I'm St Peter". Brian was stunned "You mean I'm dead!!! That can't be, I have so much to live for, I haven't said goodbye to my family.... you've got to send me back straight away". St Peter replied "Yes you can be reincarnated but there is a catch. We can only send you back as a dog or a hen."

Brian was devastated, but knowing there was a farm not far from his house, he asked to be sent back as a hen.

A flash of light later he was covered in feathers and clucking around pecking the ground. "This ain't so bad" he thought until he felt this strange feeling welling up inside him.

The farmyard rooster strolled over and said "So you're the new hen, how are you enjoying your first day here?" "It's not so bad" replies Brian, "but I have this strange feeling inside like I'm about to explode". "You're ovulating" explained the rooster, "don't tell me you've never laid an egg before". "Never" replies Brian "Well just relax and let it happen" And so he did and after a few uncomfortable seconds later, an egg pops out from under his tail. An immense feeling of relief swept over him and his emotions got the better of him as he experienced motherhood for the first time. When he laid his second egg, the feeling of happiness was overwhelming and he knew that being reincarnated as a hen was the best thing that ever happened to him... ever!!!

The joy kept coming and as he was just about to lay his third egg he felt an enormous smack on the back of his head and heard his wife shouting "Brian, wake up you drunken bastard, you're shitting the bed"


This moronic panel beater employed a bloke called Jack to do the spray painting and a girl called Jill to answer the phone. Things were going from bad to worse, what with all the black spots being fixed up by the Government, and the Police not letting people drive around texting friends on their mobile phones.

After a series of malfeasances and torts the Panel Beater realized that he would have to lay off staff. He agonized for weeks about it. One day he decided on the spur of the moment when Jack was in the toilet to break the bad news to Jill on the basis that anyone can answer a phone, even Jack.

So opening the subject in the most delicate way he could he blurted out to Jill. "Things are getting fairly serious here so I am going to have to lay you or Jack off".

She replied serenely "Well then you are going to have to jack off, I'm feeling like shit".


(This joke needs to be given in a Yorkshire accent)

Two Yorkshire men went down to Old Trafford to watch the most important Test Match in the Calendar, Yorkshire v Lancashire. [Note: the second most important Match is Australia v England]. It was going to be a good one with Len Hutton opening for Yorkshire. Anyway, after a few minutes one Yorkshire man says to the other "Forgotten sandwiches. I'll go 'ome and get sandwiches, you mind my seat".

He comes back 30 minutes later and says "Got bad news. Wife's run off wiv Baker. No sandwiches".

The other one said dourly "You think that's bad news!   'utton's out for three".


(And this one in an Irish accent)

One fine Saturday morning in Dublin Father O'Shea was walking through the market when he spied Thomas, Mrs. Flynn's wee boy, standing between a box full of rumpled blankets and a hand written sign announcing "Catholic Kittens for sale, 50p each. Intrigued Father O'Shea approached him and said

"What have ye there Thomas?"

"Kittens Farder" replied Thomas

"50p each too I see. I'll expect a sixpence in the plate tomorrow for each that you sell today hmmm?"

"Yes Farder, certainly Farder" said Tom tugging his forelock and looking generally elsewhere.

"Good day to ye son"

"And to you" etc.

The next Saturday market, showed a similar scene, but overcast with a fresh breeze off the bay. Father O'Shea sees him again with a box and a sign announcing for sale "Protestant Kittens for sale, 1pound 50 each"

"Thomas!" said the Priest "Why are these kittens 1pound 50? Aren't they self same ones you were selling here last week?

"Yes Farder" was Tom's open reply "But dere oyes are open now"


This citizen of the United States decided that he would become a big game hunter, so he bought himself a Marlin 30/30 lever action and headed for Alaska. Very soon he found a small black bear and shot it without mercy. As he ejected the spent shell he felt a tap on his shoulder. Looking round he saw a large, six foot high, male brown bear. The bear said to him:

"Listen to me. That was my mate you shot there without giving a thought. I am going to give you two options. Either I maul you to death or we are going to have sex."

The hunter did not have to think about it for too long. Sadly he dropped his pants and surrendered to overwhelming force. He then returned to California and spent a couple of weeks in hospital. When the doctors were happy with his recovery he went home and brooded about his new vocation as a hunter. Fairly soon he got really angry about it and decided he was going back to Alaska to find that Brown Bear.

He packed his rifle and headed back. Pretty soon he found the Brown Bear and it gave him great pleasure to plug him between the eyes. As he ejected the spent shell he felt a tap on his shoulder. Looking round he saw a large, eight foot high, Grizzly Bear. The bear said to him:

"Listen to me. That was my mate you shot there without giving a thought. I am going to give you two options. Either I maul you to death or we are going to have sex."

Once again the hunter realized he had no choice and dropped his pants for the second time. He then returned to California and spent a month in hospital. Eventually the doctors were happy with his recovery, so he went home to review his vocation as an established hunter. Fairly soon he got really angry about it and decided he was going back to Alaska to find that Grizzly Bear.

So he re-packed his rifle and headed back. Pretty soon he found the Grizzly and it gave him great pleasure to plug him between the ribs. As he ejected the spent shell he felt a tap on his shoulder. Looking round he saw a large, ten foot high, Polar Bear. The bear said to him:

"Face it Fred, you don't really come up here just for the hunting, do you?"


A lady goes to her priest one day and tells him, "Father, I have a problem. I have two female parrots, but they only know how to say one thing.

"What do they say?" the priest inquired.

"They say, "Hi, we're hookers! Do you want to have some fun?"

"That's obscene!" the priest exclaimed, then he thought for a moment.

"You know," he said, "I may have a solution to your problem. I have two male talking parrots, which I have taught to pray and read the Bible. Bring your two parrots over to my house, and we'll put them in the cage with Francis and Peter".

My parrots can teach your parrots to praise and worship, and your parrots are sure to stop saying that phrase in no time."

"Thank you," the woman responded, "this may very well be the solution."

The next day, she brought her female parrots to the priest's house.

As he ushered her in, she saw that his two male parrots were inside their cage holding rosary beads and praying. Impressed, she walked over and placed her parrots in with them.

After a few minutes, the female Parrots cried out in unison: "Hi, we're hookers! Do you want to have some fun?"

There was stunned silence.

Shocked, one male parrot looked over at the other male parrot and exclaimed,

"Put the beads away, Frank. Our prayers have been answered."


Little Mary moved from Wahroonga to Bankstown Primary when her Dad was transferred from one Bank to another. On this particular day in Bankstown Primary the teacher was very excited by a recent win by the Canterbury Bankstown Bulldogs. This is a team which has the dubious distinction of having the worst fan club in Australia, with the largest number of fans gaoled at any time in the history of the nation.

Anyway, regardless of that, the teacher was carried away by the sheer momentousness of the recent win and she asked her class with exuberant enthusiasm to raise their hands if they barracked for the Bulldogs. Everyone raised their hand except Mary.

"Mary!" said the teacher in a surprised tone "Don't you support the Bulldogs?"

"No" said Mary "I support the Sydney Roosters".

"But Mary, why would you support the Roosters?" cried the teacher in dismay.

"Because my Dad and Mum do" said Mary "We used to live in Wahroonga and that is what we support".

The teacher assumed an inquisitorial stance, arms folded across her ample bosom. "Mary" she said "You don't have to follow every single thing your parents do. You should make your own mind up and not be lead by them. I mean, what would you do if your father was in gaol, your mother was a prostitute, your sister was a single mother and your brother was a drug addict?"

"In that case" said Mary "I would be a Bulldogs supporter".


A Man walked into the produce section of his local Supermarket, and asked to buy half a head of Lettuce. The Boy working in that department told him that they only sold whole heads of Lettuce.

The Man insisted that the Boy ask his Manager about the matter.

Walking into the back room, the Boy said to the Manager,

"Some old bastard wants to buy half a head of Lettuce."

As he finished his sentence, he turned to find the Man standing right behind him, so he quickly added, "and this Gentleman kindly offered to buy the other half."

The Manager approved the deal, and the Man went on his way.

Later the Manager said to the Boy,

"I was impressed with the way you got yourself out of that situation earlier.  We like people who think on their feet here.  Where are you from Son?"

"New Zealand, Sir," the Boy replied.

"Well, why did you leave New Zealand?" the Manager asked.

The Boy said, "Sir, there's nothing but Whores and Rugby players there."

"Really," replied the Manager? "My wife is from New Zealand!"

"Really??" replied the Boy. "Who'd she play for?"


Q.        What did Harold McMillan say when the elephants came over the hill?
A.        He said "Here come the elephants".

Q.        What did General De Gaulle say when the elephants came over the hill?
A.        He said "Voici les elephants" which just goes to show what an idiot he was, and is a typical example of French arrogance.


John Howard (Australian Prime Minister) has an election coming on so he invites George W Bush over to assist in the campaign.  They decide to start by touring the back blocks to try to get the rural and remote votes.  So they head out past Kickyertinalong, through Dragyerbagalong and finally arrived at Wheelyerbarrowback.  They headed for the Wheelyerbarrowback Hotel.  There was a Labrador dog sitting outside the Pub.  So Howard says "Let's take the dog in with us.  It will help us look like authentic honest country people".  So they took the dog in with them and ordered a drink.  It was only 4.00 pm so the place was deserted.  But at around 5.00 pm the locals started to arrive and Howard and Bush were amazed that as each one came in they lifted the dog's tail up.  Bush was intrigued by what he thought must be a quaint Australian custom so he asks the Barman what was the significance of this tail lifting.  The Barman says "Oh, the reason why they are doing that is that there is a rumour that has spread right around the district that there is a dog in the Pub with two arseholes".


This bloke was caught speeding. He was going past Collector on the Canberra to Sydney road.

The policeman asked him his name.

"My name is Wankinbreak" said the man.

"Don't be silly, this is serious" said the cop.

"No, I am serious" said Wankinbreak "Have a look at my business card, look, it says Mr Wankinbreak of the Big Ball Small Ball Ball Bearing Company".

The cop inspected the card and said "OK, it seems to me that you have enough problems of your own already, so I am going to let you off with a warning. Stop speeding, OK"

So the bloke drives on speeding and he gets pulled up at Goulburn.

The policeman asked him his name.

"My name is Wankinbreak" said the man.

"Stop fooling mate, this is serious" said the cop.

"No, I'm not fooling" said Wankinbreak "Have a look at my business card, look, it says Mr Wankinbreak of the Big Ball Small Ball Ball Bearing Company".

The cop inspected the card and said "OK, it seems to me that you have enough to worry about already, so I am going to let you off with a warning. Stop speeding, OK"

So the bloke drives on speeding and he gets pulled up at Marulan.

The policeman asked him his name.

"My name is Wankinbreak" said the man.

"This is not a joke, you are in deep trouble" said the cop.

"No, I'm not joking" said Wankinbreak "Have a look at my business card, look, it says Mr Wankinbreak of the Big Ball Small Ball Ball Bearing Company".

The cop inspected the card and said "OK, it seems to me that you have many difficult issues, so I am going to let you off with a warning. Stop speeding, OK"

Later that night the three cops were together at the Policeman's Ball in Goulburn. They talked about their day's work and very soon they realised that Wankinbreak had been speeding all the way to Sydney, ignoring three warnings. "We'll have to check this out tomorrow" said the Goulburn cop.

So the next day the Goulburn cop rings the Big Ball Small Ball Ball Bearing Company in Sydney.

A girl answers the phone and says "Hullo, this is Sharon from the Big Ball Small Ball Ball Bearing Company. Can I help you?"

"Yes" said the cop "Do you have a Wankinbreak there?"

"Don't be silly" said the girl "We don't have enough time here to have a Tea Break".


The teacher asked her class to tell a story ending in a moral. Little Lucy got up and said "My Granddad always helps Grandma with things like the washing up and taking out the rubbish. The moral of the story is that love overcomes all obstacles.

Then little Johnny got up and said "My Granddad was in the war fighting the Germans. Their group was facing an attack where they were out-numbered about ten to one. Things were looking pretty tough as they were low on ammunition. So they gave Granddad a litre of Whisky and eight bullets. He drank all the Whisky, shot eight Germans with the bullets, and then he jumped out of the trenches and ran at the Germans and killed forty of them with his bayonet."

"Johnny" said the teacher "You haven't finished yet. What was the moral of the story?"

"The moral is" said Johnny "that you don't fucking annoy Granddad when he's pissed."


A drunk, who smelled of beer sat down, on a bus seat next to a priest. The man's tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick and a half-empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket. He opened his newspaper and began reading.

After a few minutes the man turned to the priest and asked, "Tell me, Father, what causes arthritis?"

The priest replied, "My Son, it is caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked women, too much alcohol and contempt for your fellow man, sleeping around with prostitutes and a lack of personal hygiene."

The drunk muttered in response, "Well, I'll be darned," and returned to his paper.

The priest, thinking about what he had said, put his hand gently on the man's arm and apologized.

"I'm sorry.... I should not have come down on you so strong. How long have you had arthritis?"

"I don't have arthritis, Father," the drunk replied. "I was just reading here that the Pope does."


A Mormon was seated next to an Australian on a flight from London to Melbourne.

After the plane was airborne, drink orders were taken.  The Aussie asked for a rum and Coke, which was brought and placed before him.

The flight attendant then asked the Mormon if he would like a drink.

He replied in disgust, "I'd rather be savagely raped by a dozen whores than let liquor touch my lips."

The Aussie then handed his drink back to the attendant and said, "Me too. I didn't know we had a choice"


George Bush has a heart attack and dies. Obviously, he goes to hell where the devil is waiting for him.

"I'm not sure what to do," says the devil.

"You're on my list but I have no room for you. As you definitely have to stay here, I'm going to have to let someone else go. I've got three folks here who weren't quite as bad as you. I'll let one of them go, but you have to take their place. I'll even let you decide who leaves."

George thought that sounded pretty good, so he agreed.

The devil opened the first room and in it was Richard Nixon and a large pool of hot water.

He kept diving in and climbing out, over and over. Such was his fate in hell.

"No!" George said. "I don't think so. I'm not a good swimmer and don't think I could stay in hot water all day."

The devil led him to the next room. In It was Tony Blair with a sledge hammer and a room full of rocks. All he did was swing the hammer, swing, swing, time after time.

"No! I've got a problem with my shoulder. I would be in constant agony if all I could do was break rocks all day." commented George.

The devil opened a third door. In it was Bill Clinton lying on a bed with his arms staked over his head and his legs staked in a spread-eagled pose. Bent over him was Monica Lewinsky, doing what she does best.

George Bush looked at this in disbelief for awhile and finally said, "Yeah, I reckon I can handle this."

The devil smiled and said, "Ok, Monica, you're free to go!"


53,000 Geordies meet in St James Park for a "Geordies Are Not Stupid" convention.

Alan Shearer addresses the crowd. "We are all here today to prove to the world that Geordies are not stupid. Can I have a volunteer please?" Gazza gingerly works his way through the crowd and steps up to the stage.

Shearer asks him "What is 15 plus 15?" After 15 or 20 seconds Gazza says, "Eighteen!" "I'm afraid not", says Shearer.

Obviously everyone is a little disappointed. Then the Geordies start chanting "Give him another chance! Give him another chance!"

Shearer says "Well since we have a capacity crowd, world-wide press and

global broadcast media here, I think we can give him another chance". So he asks "What is 5 plus 5?" After nearly 30 seconds Gazza eventually says "Ninety?"

Shearer looks down and just lets out a dejected sigh. Everyone is disheartened and Gazza starts crying.

But then the 53,000 Geordies begin to yell and wave their hands shouting "GIVE HIM ANOTHER CHANCE! GIVE HIM ANOTHER CHANCE!"

Shearer, unsure whether he is now doing more harm than good, eventually says, "What is 2 plus 2?"

Silence hangs over the stadium. Gazza closes his eyes, and after a whole minute eventually says, "Four?"

Pandemonium breaks out throughout the stadium as the Geordie crowd stand to a man, wave their arms, stomp their feet and scream .............



Two women friends had gone for a girl's night out; both were very faithful and loving wives. However, they had become over-enthusiastic on the Bacardi Breezers.

Incredibly drunk & walking home, they needed to pee, so they stopped in the cemetery. One of them had nothing to wipe with so she thought she would take off her panties and use them. Her friend, however, was wearing a rather expensive pair of panties and did not want to ruin them, but was lucky enough to be next to a grave that had a wreath with ribbon on it, so she proceeded to wipe with that. After the girls did their business, they proceeded to go home.

The next day, one woman's husband was concerned that his normally sweet and innocent wife was still in bed hung-over, so he phoned the other husband and said, "These damn girls' nights out have got to stop. I'm starting to suspect the worst. My wife came home with no panties."

"You think that's bad" said the other husband, "Mine is lying in bed with a card stuck in her ass that says: "From all of us at the Fire Station. We'll never forget you."


A Professor of Human Physiology was delivering a Lecture on involuntary muscular contractions. He class was slumbering away in front of him. Yes, these were modern university students of the post-Dawkins era, who worked late into the night in bars, restaurants and other retailing enterprises so that they could have enough money to eat.

The Professor got exasperated and decided to wake them all up. "Miss Jones" he thundered at a girl sleeping in the front row, "have you any idea what your arsehole is doing while you are having an orgasm?"

"Of course I do" she replied archly "He is down by the river, fishing with his mates".


A man walks onto the street and manages to get a taxi just going by.  He gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, "Perfect timing. You're just like Frank."

Passenger: "Who?"

Cabbie: "Frank Feldman. He's a guy who did everything right all the time."  Like my coming along when you needed a cab, things happened like that to Frank Feldman every single time."

Passenger: "There are always a few clouds over everybody."

Cabbie: "Not Frank Feldman.  He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand-Slam at tennis.  He could golf with the pros.  He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano.  He was an amazing guy."

Passenger: "Sounds like he was something really special."

Cabbie: "There's more... He had a memory like a computer, could remember everybody's birthday.  He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with.  He could fix anything.  Not like me.  I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank Feldman, he could do everything right."

Passenger. "Wow, some guy then."

Cabbie: "He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams.  Not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good.  He would never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too - he was the perfect man!  He never made a mistake.  No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman."

Passenger: "An amazing fellow.  How did you meet him?"

Cabbie: "Well, I never actually met Frank.  I just married his friggin widow."


A fleeing Al Qaeda guerrilla, desperate for water, was plodding through the Iraqi desert fleeing from justice when he saw something far off in the distance. Hoping to find water, he walked toward the object, only to find a little old Jewish man at a small stand selling neckties.

The Arab asked, "Do you have water?"

The Jewish man replied, "I have no water. Would you like to buy a tie? They are only $5."

The Arab shouted, "Idiot Jew!  Israel should not exist!  We will destroy your nation!   I do not need an over-priced tie.  I need water!   I will kill you and all your family and then all their relations and their relations: but right now I must find water first."

"OK" said the old Jew "It doesn't matter that you do not want to buy a tie and that you hate me.  I will show you that I am bigger than that.   If you continue over that hill to the west for about two miles, you will find a lovely restaurant.   It has all the water you need.     Shalom."

Muttering, the Arab staggered away over the hill. Several hours later he staggered back, near collapse.

"Your brother won't let me in without a tie" he gasped. "That's OK" said the Jew "But since you have been away the price has gone up to $6".

(Note: this is not an anti-Semitic joke because the Arabs and Jews are both Semites. Therefore it must be a joke about small business ethics in close well-knit communities)


The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term exam. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet.

Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)? Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following.

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell.

With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially.

Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.

This gives two possibilities:

  1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
  2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman Year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over.

The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct......leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."

This student received the only "A".


Two aliens landed in the desert close to Birdsville near an old petrol station that was closed for the night.

They approached one of the old petrol pumps and the younger alien addressed it saying, "Greetings, Earthling.  We come in peace.  Take us to your leader."

The old petrol pump, of course, didn't respond.  

The younger alien became angry at the lack of response and the older alien said, "I'd calm down if I were you."

The younger alien ignored the warning and repeated his greeting.  Again, there was no response.  Annoyed by what he perceived to be the pump's haughty attitude, he drew his ray gun and said impatiently, "Greetings, Earthling.  We come in peace.  Do not ignore us this way!  Take us to your leader or I will fire!"

The older alien warned his comrade saying, "You don't want to do that!  I don't think you should make him mad."

"Rubbish," replied the cocky, young alien.  He aimed his weapon at the pump and opened fire.  There was a huge explosion.  A massive fireball roared towards them and blew the younger alien off his feet and deposited him a burnt crumpled mess about 200 metres away in a dry creek bed.

About a half hour passed.  When he finally regained consciousness, he refocused his three eyes and straightened his bent antenna and looked dazedly at the older, wiser alien who was standing over him shaking his big, green head.

"What a ferocious creature!" exclaimed the young, fried alien.  "He damn near killed me!  How did you know he was so dangerous?"

The older alien leaned over, placed a friendly feeler on his crispy friend and replied, "If there's one thing I've learned during my intergalactic travels, you don't want to mess with a bloke who can wrap his penis around himself twice and then stick it in his ear."


A pastor entered his donkey in a race and it won. The pastor was so pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the race again, and it won again. The headlines in the local newspaper read:

The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered the pastor not to enter the donkey in another race. The next day, the local newspaper headline read:

This was too much for the Bishop so he ordered the pastor to get rid of the donkey. The pastor decided to give it to a nun in a nearby convent. The local paper, hearing of the news, posted the following headline the next day:

The Bishop fainted. He informed the nun that she would have to get rid of the donkey, so she sold it to a farmer for $10. The next day the paper read:

As a last resort the Bishop ordered the nun to buy back the donkey and lead it to the plains where it could run wild. The next day the headlines read:

The Bishop was buried the next day.... The moral of the story is...being concerned about public opinion can bring you much grief and misery ...and even shorten your life. So be yourself and enjoy life..... Only worry about your own ASS, not someone else's..... You'll be a lot happier and live longer.


A lawyer arrived home late, after a very tough day trying to get a stay of execution for a client who was due to be hanged for murder at midnight.

His last minute plea for clemency to the governor had failed; he was feeling worn out and depressed.

As soon as he walked through the door at home, his wife started on him about, "What time of night to be getting home is this?  Where have you been? Dinner is cold and I'm not reheating it": and on and on and on.

Too shattered to play his usual role in this familiar ritual, he went and poured himself a shot of whiskey and headed off for a long hot soak in the bathtub, pursued by the predictable sarcastic remarks as he dragged himself up the stairs.

While he was in the bath, the phone rang.  The wife answered and was told that her husband's client, James Wright, had been granted a stay of execution after all.  Wright would not be hanged tonight.

Finally realizing what a terrible day he must have had, she decided to go upstairs and give him the good news.

As she opened the bathroom door, she was greeted by the sight of her husband, bent over naked, drying his legs and feet.

"They're not hanging Wright tonight," she said.

To which he whirled around and screamed, "FOR THE   LOVE OF GOD, WOMAN, DON'T YOU EVER STOP?!"*


This Official was being shown around the Manangatang Hospital by the Matron. They came to a bed where the patient was wacking off very vigorously. The Official turned to the Matron and asked "what's going on here?" The Matron explained that the man had a disease involving very swollen balls, which required that he ejaculate at least five times a day to relieve the pressure.

When they got to the next room they found another patient undergoing the same treatment, but this time it was being performed by a very good looking nurse using the age old technique of fellatio. "What's going on here then?" said the Official. "This is the same disease" said the Matron, "but in this case the patient has private health insurance cover".


Little Johnny was about to go to bed when he looked through the door of his Dad and Mum's bedroom, and saw his Dad engaged in an energetic coupling with his Mum. His Dad saw him looking in and threw a pillow at him and told him to disappear.

Later his Dad was wandering up the corridor, heading for the toilet, when he looked through the door of little Johnny's bedroom and saw his Son and Heir chock-a-block up his Grandmother. Outraged, he burst into the room and demanded an explanation. Little Johnny says "I thought you wouldn't think it was funny when it was happening to your own Mum".


A young lad from Dragyerbagalong, just west of Wheelyerbarraback, goes off to university in Sydney, but halfway through the semester he foolishly has squandered all of his money.

He calls home. "Dad," he says "You won't believe what modern education is developing.  They actually have a program here at Uni that will teach our dog Rover how to talk."

"That' amazing!" his Dad says. "How do I get Rover into that program?"

"Just send him down here with  $2,000 the young lad says, "I'll get him on the course." His father sends the dog and $2,000.

About two-thirds through the semester, the money again runs out. The boy calls home.

"So how's Rover doing, son?"  his father wants to know.

"Awesome! Dad. He's talking up a storm; but you just won't believe this. They've had such good results with talking that they have they've begun to teach him how to read."

"Read?!" exclaims his father. "No kidding! How do we get to keep Rover in that program?"

"Just send $5000. I'll get him into the class."

The money promptly arrives; but our hero has a problem. At the end of the year, his father will find out the dog can neither talk nor read, so he shoots the dog.

When he arrives home at the end of the year, his father is all excited. "Where's Rover? I just can't wait to talk with him, and see him read something!"

"Dad, the boy says, "I have some bad news. Yesterday morning, just before we left to drive home, Rover was in the living room, lying on the sofa, reading the Australian Financial Review. Then he suddenly turned to me and asked, "Is your Daddy still messing around with that pretty little redhead barmaid at the pub?'"

The father groans and whispers, "I hope you shot that bastard before he talks to your Mum!"

"I sure did, Dad!"

"That's my boy!"

The kid went on to be a successful lawyer, amply rewarding his Father's far-sighted and voluntary investment in his education.


This bloke went on a golf playing holiday up on the Barrier Reef. During the various events he met up with an interesting and good looking female golfer. They got on so well that they talked earnestly together about continuing their relationship on beyond the immediate tour.

After a few Rums the bloke got really intense and he said to her "Look, if we are going to continue on with the friendship into the future I feel that I need to be completely frank with you about myself. I think I ought to divulge to you that I am a Golf fanatic: I eat, drink and breathe Golf, it occupies all my waking thoughts."

"Well" she said "as you have been so utterly honest with me, I feel that I have to be equally honest with you". Drawing closer to him she whispered into his ear "I think I should tell you that I am a Hooker".

"That's because you are not holding the golf club correctly" he said.


A farmer from Yackandanda gets into his Ute and drives to a neighbouring farm and knocks at the farmhouse door. A young boy, about nine, opens the door. "Is your Dad home?" the farmer asked. "Sorry mate, he isn't" the boy replied. "He's gone into Albury for the day."

"Well," said the farmer "Is your mum here?" "No, she's not here either.  She went into town with Dad." "How about your brother, Greg?  Is he here"?

"He went with Mum and Dad."

The farmer stood there for a few minutes, shifting from one foot to the other and mumbling to himself.

"Is there anything I can do for ya?" the boy asked politely. "I know where all the tools are if you want to borrow one. Or maybe, I could take a message for Dad."

"Well," said the farmer uncomfortably, "I really wanted to talk to your Dad. It's about your brother Greg getting my daughter pregnant."

The boy considered for a moment.

"You'd have to talk to Dad about that," he finally conceded. "If it helps you any, I know that Dad charges $200 for the bull and $150 for the pig, but I really don't know how much he gets for Greg."


This lady was in a bait and tackle shop buying a fishing rod. She was being served by a blind shop assistant who was very good with his sense of smell and hearing. As she picked up each rod he would tell her its make and special attributes because he could hear the difference between rods. Eventually she chose a rod and asked him what it would cost. "That one is $40" he said. As she was taking her credit card out of her bag it dropped to the floor. "That would be a Visa card" he said "I can hear the difference between credit cards". As she bent down to pick up the card she inadvertently let fly with a little fart.

The shop assistant said "OK that will be $55 in all". "But I thought you just told me that it would be $40" she said. "It's $40 for the rod" he said "but there is $15 more for the duck caller and the bait".


A farmer named Seamus had a car accident. In court, the lorry company's hot-shot solicitor was questioning Seamus. 'Didn't you say to the Police at the scene of the accident, 'I'm fine?' asked the solicitor.

Seamus responded: 'Well, I'll tell you what happened. I had just loaded my favorite cow, Bessie, into the...'

'I didn't ask for any details', the solicitor interrupted. 'Just answer the question. Did you not say, at the scene of the accident, 'I'm fine!'?'

Seamus said, 'Well, I had just got Bessie into the trailer and I was driving down the road....'

The solicitor interrupted again and said, 'Your Honour, I am trying to establish the fact that, at the scene of the accident, this man told the police on the scene that he was fine. Now several weeks after the accident, he is trying to sue my client. I believe he is a fraud. Please tell him to simply answer the question.'

By this time, the Judge was fairly interested in Seamus's answer and said to the solicitor: 'I'd like to hear what he has to say about his favourite cow, Bessie'.

Seamus thanked the Judge and proceeded. 'Well as I was saying, I had just loaded Bessie, my favourite cow, into the trailer and was driving her down the road when this huge lorry and trailer came through a stop sign and hit my trailer right in the side. I was thrown into one ditch and Bessie was thrown into the other. I was hurt, very bad like, and didn't want to move. However, I could hear old Bessie moaning and groaning. I knew she was in terrible shape just by her groans. Shortly after the accident, a policeman on a motorbike turned up. He could hear Bessie moaning and groaning so he went over to her. After he looked at her, and saw her condition, he took out his gun and shot her between the eyes.

Then the policeman came across the road, gun still in hand, and he looked at me, and said, 'How are you feeling?'

'Now what the fuck would you say, your Honour?'


A Queensland jackeroo is overseeing his herd in remote territory when suddenly a brand-new BMW advances out of a dust cloud towards him. The driver, a young man in a designer suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the cowboy, "If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?"

The jackaroo looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, "Sure, why not!"

The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite navigation system to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo. The young man then opens the digital-photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany.

Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses an MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel Spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives response. Finally, he prints out a full-colour, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer and finally turns to the cowboy and says, "You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves."

"That's right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves," says the Cowboy.   He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.

Then the cowboy says to the young man, "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?" The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why not?"

"You work for the Australian Government?" says the Jackeroo

"Wow! That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?"

"No guessing required." answered the jackeroo. "You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You used all kinds of expensive equipment that clearly somebody else paid for. You tried to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don't know a thing about cows. This is a herd of sheep. Now give me back my dog."


Sir Eustace Entwhistle and Lady Constance decided to hire an Au Pair girl from Sweden to help out at the Manor. After a few days of toil she got time-off and went down to the local for a bit of light relief.

When she got back she said to Lady Constance "What is this word Fuck that everyone say in the Pub? What does it mean?"

Lady Constance thought about this for a while and eventually said to the stunning young blonde "It means to serve".

That night the whole set of Entwhistles was sitting around the manorial table when she decided to try out her new command of the language. She said to Giles the Butler "Would you please fuck the duck".

Sir Eustace suddenly got a new lease on life and rising to his feet he said "I say, I say, I say, what a quaint conceit. Would anyone mind if I fucked the mashed potato?'


Two Aussie businessmen in Sydney were sitting down for a break in their soon-to-be new store.   As yet, the store wasn't ready, with only a few shelves set-up.

One said to the other, 'I bet any minute now some idiot tourist is going to walk by, put his face to the window, and ask what we're selling.'

No sooner were the words out of his mouth when, sure enough, a curious kiwi walked to the window, had a peek, and in a strong kiwi accent asked:   "What you fellas sellin' here?"

One of the men replied sarcastically, 'We're selling ass-holes.'

Without skipping a beat, the kiwi said,  ' You are doing well... only two left!'


Research has led to the discovery of the heaviest element yet known to science. The new element, governmentium (Gv), has one neutron, 25 assistant neutrons, 88 deputy neutrons, and 198 assistant deputy neutrons, giving it an atomic mass of 312.

These 312 particles are held together by forces called morons, which are surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles called peons. Since governmentium has no electrons, it is inert; however, it can be detected, because it impedes every action with which it comes into contact.

A minute amount of governmentium can cause a reaction that would normally take less than a second to occur, to take from four days to four years to complete. Governmentium has a normal half-life of 2-6 years; it does not decay, but instead undergoes a reorganization in which a portion of the assistant neutrons and deputy neutrons exchange places.

In fact, governmentium's mass will actually increase over time, since each reorganization will cause more morons to become neutrons, forming isodopes. This characteristic of moron promotion leads some scientists to believe that governmentium is formed whenever morons reach a critical concentration. This hypothetical quantity is referred to as critical morass. When catalyzed with money, governmentium becomes administratium, an element that radiates just as much energy as governmentium since it has half as many peons but twice as many morons.


This bloke comes back from the Beijing Olympic Games with a presentation box of three condoms, all nicely wrapped with a picture of the Chinese Flag and an exhortation from Chairman Mao to have no more than one child. Inside there is a gold condom, a sliver one and a bronze one.

The bloke says to his girlfriend "I think I'll use the gold one tonight" to which she replied "Why don't you wear the sliver one and come second for a fucking change?"


This lady had been reading a bit of erotica in a desperate attempt to get a bit more fun out of her love life. That night she said to her man "Why don't we start tonight with a bit of foreplay?" To which he replied "Don't be silly love, where am I going to find three other blokes this time of night?"


This English bloke was sitting on the plane and a girl was sitting next to him. They didn't talk at all because they hadn't been introduced. All of a sudden the girl sneezed and immediately started to moan and shake all over. The Englishman kept a stiff upper lip and pretended not to notice. Then the girl sneezed again and the convulsions shook her whole body. The Englishman politely said "I say, is there anything wrong? Would you by the remotest chance have a cold?" The girl said "No" and then confided in him. She said very quietly "You see I have an unusual medical condition. Every time I sneeze I get an orgasm". "Oh dear" said the Englishman "Are you taking anything for this condition?" "Yes" she said "Pepper".


The US Tax System Explained:   (Bar Stool Economics)

Suppose that every day, ten men go out for beer and the bill for all ten comes to $100.

If they paid their bill the way we pay our taxes, it would go something like this:

The first four men (the poorest) would pay nothing.

The fifth would pay $1.

The sixth would pay $3.

The seventh would pay $7.

The eighth would pay $12.

The ninth would pay $18.

The tenth man (the richest) would pay $59.

So, that's what they decided to do.

The ten men drank in the bar every day and seemed quite happy with the arrangement, until one day, the owner threw them a curve.

'Since you are all such good customers,' he said, 'I'm going to reduce the cost of your daily beer by $20. Drinks for the ten now cost just $80. The group still wanted to pay their bill the way we pay our taxes so the first four men were unaffected. They would still drink for free.

But what about the other six men - the paying customers? How could they divide the $20 windfall so that everyone would get his 'fair share?'

They realized that $20 divided by six is $3.33. But if they subtracted that from everybody's share, then the fifth man and the sixth man would each end up being paid to drink his beer. 

So, the bar owner suggested that it would be fair to reduce each man's bill by roughly the same amount, and he proceeded to work out the amounts each should pay.

And so:

The fifth man, like the first four, now paid nothing (100%savings).

The sixth now paid $2 instead of $3 (33%savings).

The seventh now paid $5 instead of $7 (28%savings).

The eighth now paid $9 instead of $12 (25% savings).

The ninth now paid $14 instead of $18 (22% savings).

The tenth now paid $49 instead of $59 (16% savings).

Each of the six was better off than before. And the first four continued to drink for free. But once outside the restaurant, the men began to compare their savings.

'I only got a dollar out of the $20,'declared the sixth man. He pointed to the tenth man,' but he got $10!'

'Yeah, that's right,' exclaimed the fifth man. 'I only saved a dollar too. It's unfair that he got ten times more than I got'

'That's true!!' shouted the seventh man. 'Why should he get $10 back when I got only two? The wealthy get all the breaks!'

'Wait a minute,' yelled the first four men in unison. 'We didn't get anything at all. The system exploits the poor!'

The nine men surrounded the tenth and beat him up.

The next night the tenth man didn't show up for drinks so the nine sat down and had beers without him.  But when it came time to pay the bill, they discovered something important. 

They didn't have enough money between all of them for even half of the bill!

And that, ladies and gentlemen, journalists and college professors, is how our tax system works.  The people who pay the highest taxes get the most benefit from a tax reduction.

Tax them too much, attack them for being wealthy, and they just may not show up anymore.  In fact, they might start drinking overseas where the atmosphere is somewhat friendlier.

        David R. Kamerschen, Ph.D.

        Professor of Economics

        University of Georgia

For those who understand this, no explanation is needed.

For those who do not understand it, no explanation is possible.


These two Arabs were sitting on a train when they were joined by a Jew. They struck up a civilised conversation, managing to steer clear of politics by discussing the usual topics of football, sex and pork-free recipes. Eventually the Jew said he was going to get a drink and asked the Arabs if they would like him to bring anything back. The Arabs said that they would both like an orange juice.   So he went off and came back with the drinks.

A bit later he excused himself and said that he needed to go to the toilet. The Arabs noticed that the Jew had taken his shoes off and they were there on the floor. They both decided that this was too good an opportunity to miss so they spat into both shoes.

Later when the Jew put his shoes on again a sad expression came over his face, and he said "When will all this anger and hatred end, when will the bickering and the insults stop, when will we stop with the spitting in the shoes and the pissing in the orange juice?"


This group of academics is coming home late at night from dinner and they meet, coming in the other direction, four ladies of the night. One of the academics says, 'Ah, a bevy of beauties!' Another one from the English Department says 'Oh, no, I'd say it was an Anthology of Prose!' The third one, who's also from the English department, said 'No, it's an Essay of Trollops!' A chap from the Law Faculty says, 'No, I'd say it was a Firm of Solicitors!' The chap from the Geology Department says, 'No, I'd say it was an Outcrop of Ores!' The bloke from Hospitality and Hotel Management said 'It is definitely a Jam of Tarts!' Finally the Tutor in Sports Administration said 'I think it is a Commentary of Arlott's!"


The fellas at the Balgownie used to run a competition for the bloke who proposed the best toast for the night. One night old what's-his-name lifted his glass up high and said "Here's to spending the rest of me life between the legs of me lovely wife". It was unanimously declared to be the best toast of the night.

So old what's-his-name goes home (I wish I could remember his name) and he says to his Missus "You've got to hear this love, I won the prize for the best toast tonight".

"Isn't that lovely" she said "and what was the toast?"

"Here's to spending the rest of me life sitting in church next to me wife"

"What a lovely toast" she said.

The next day the wife was down at Woolies in Fairy Meadow when one of old what's-his-name's friends ran into her.

"Did you know your old man won the prize for the best toast last night?" he said, leering at her.

"Oh yes" she said "it was a lovely toast. He told it to me. But I am not sure why he proposed it because we hardly ever go there, and when we do he keeps falling asleep and the only way I can get him to come is to pull him by the ears".


Why Men Don't Write Advice Columns

Dear Keith,
I hope you can help me here. The other day, I set off for work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual. I hadn't driven more than a mile down the road when the engine conked out and the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's help. When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was in our bedroom with the neighbor's daughter. I am 41, my husband is 44, and the neighbor's daughter is 22. We have been married for ten years. When I confronted him, he broke down and admitted that they had been having an affair for the past six months.  I told him to stop or I would leave him. He was let go from his job six months ago and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed and worthless. I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become increasingly distant. He won't go to counseling and I'm afraid I can't get through to him anymore.
Can you please  help?

Dear Maureen:
A  car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the vacuum pipes and hoses on the intake manifold and also check all grounding wires.   If none of these approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the injectors.
I hope this  helps,

Two very old men, feeling that their final days are drawing near, decide to have a last night on the town. After a few drinks, they end up at the local brothel.

The madam takes one look at the two old geezers and whispers to her manager, 'Go up to the first two bedrooms and put an inflated doll in each bed'. These two are so old and so drunk, I'm not wasting two of my girls on them they won't know the difference.'

The manager does as he's told, and the two old men go upstairs and take care of business.

As they're walking home, the first man says, 'You know, I think my girl was dead!'

'Dead? says his friend. 'Why do you say that?'

'Well, she never moved or made a sound, all the time I was loving her.'

'Could be worse,' says his friend. 'I think mine was a witch!'

'A witch?? Why the hell would you say that?'

'Well, I was making love to her, kissing her on the neck, and I gave her a little bite. Then she farted and flew out the window. Took my teeth with her!'


It was the first day of a school in USA and a new European Indian student named Chandrasekhar Subramanian entered the fourth grade.

The teacher said, 'Let's begin by reviewing some American History. Who said 'Give me Liberty, or give me Death'?

She saw a sea of blank faces, except for Chandrasekhar, who had his hand up: 'Patrick Henry, 1775' he said.

'Very good!' Who said 'Government of the People, by the People, for the People, shall not perish from the Earth?'

Again, no response except from Chandrasekhar. 'Abraham Lincoln, 1863' said Chandrasekhar.

The teacher snapped at the class, 'Class, you should be ashamed. Chandrasekhar, who is new to our country, knows more about its history than you do.'

She heard a loud whisper: 'Fuck the Indians,'

'Who said that?' she demanded. Chandrasekhar put his hand up. 'General Custer, 1862.'

At that point, a student in the back said, 'I'm gonna puke.'

The teacher glares around and asks 'All right! Now, who said that?'

Again, Chandrasekhar says, 'George Bush to the Japanese Prime Minister, 1991.'

Now furious, another student yells, 'Oh yeah? Suck this!'

Chandrasekhar jumps out of his chair waving his hand and shouts to the teacher, 'Bill Clinton, to Monica Lewinsky, 1997!'

Now with almost mob hysteria someone said 'You little shit. If you say anything else, I'll kill you.'

Chandrasekhar frantically yells at the top of his voice, ' Michael Jackson to the child witnesses testifying against him- 2004.'

The teacher fainted. And as the class gathered around the teacher on the floor, someone said, 'Oh shit, we're fucked!'

And Chandrasekhar said quietly, I think it was George Bush, Iraq, 2007.


A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded, "Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty. You're crazy to go to  Rome. How are you getting there?"

"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "We got a great rate!"

"Continental?" exclaimed the hairdresser. "That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. Where are you staying in Rome?"

"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome's Tiber River called Teste."

"Don't go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks it will be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump."

"We're going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope."

"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser. "You and a million other people are trying to see him.  He'll look the size of an ant. Good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."

A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.

"It was wonderful," explained the woman, "Not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but they bumped us up to first class.. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28 year old steward who waited on me hand and foot.  And the hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodelling job, and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They were overbooked and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"

"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I know you didn't get to see the Pope."

"Actually, we were quite lucky. As we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors and, if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me. Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand!

I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."

"Oh, really! What'd he say?"

He said, "Who fucked up your hair?"


What is the difference between BSE and PMT? One is Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy and the other one is Mad Cow's Disease.


This bloke goes to see his doctor.  He says "I am really crook mate, can you work out what's going on?"

The Doctor examines him in depth and then says "I am sorry to tell you this, but you have a terminal disease which has only recently been discovered and you have another 48 days to live". 

"Shit" says the bloke "What is it called?"

"It's called 48D. Thery have not had time to think up a proper medical name for it yet" says the quack "and at this stage there is no cure".

"Heck!" says the bloke with 48 days to go, and he stumbles over the road to have a stiff Whiskey at the Balgownie.

He plays the poker machine, trying to take the weight of his mind, and he wins $1,500.  So he orders another triple Jamesons and asks the Bar Bloke to give him his money.

He sits there wondering about life and that shit.  Then he gets up and starts on the Pokies again and wins $3,000.  He calls the Bar Bloke to get his money.

The Bar Bloke says to him "Jeez mate you are in the luck tonight".

The other bloke says "Well I don't know about that mate.  I'm not that lucky.  I've got 48D"

"Bloody Hell" says the Bar Bloke "You got 48D!  That's the winning ticket in the Chook raffle".


This North Shore Lawyer is on a flight back to Sydney from Darwin and he finds himself sitting next to a broken down old miner from Humpty Doo. So the Lawyer decides to have a bit of fun and make some money at the same time: something Lawyers are trained to do in the finest Universities. So he says to the miner "How about we fill in the time by playing a quizz game? It goes like this. I ask you a question and if you don't know the answer you give me $5. Then you ask me a question and if I don't know the answer I give you $500. And then we start again."

The old miner thought carefully about this idea for a bit and then finally he smiles and says "I'll give it a go."

"OK" says the Lawyer "What is the population of Brussels?"

"I don't know" says the miner and gives the lawyer $5.

"It's my turn now" says the miner "What goes up hill on two legs and comes down on three legs?"

The Lawyer gets his laptop out and switches it to flight mode. Then he googles two legs, then he goggles three legs, then he googles hill. No results. So he gets his 4th generation mobile out, swiches it to flight mode and rings a dozen of his friends to ask them the question. No result. Finally he says "I don't know the answer" and gives the miner $500.

The miner thanks him and orders a triple Whisky. Then the Lawyer says "Well, aren't you going to tell me what the answer is?"

"I don't know what the answer is said the miner, and gives him $5.


This bloke is up before the Judge in a double murder case. The Prosecutor accuses the man as follows: "You are accused of bashing your wife's brains out with a hammer". A bloke up the back of the Court jumps up and yells out "Cunt" and the top of bhis voice.

"Order" shouts the Judge and asks the Prosecutor to proceed.

"Furthermore" said the Prosecutor "You are accused of bashing our her lover's brains with a hammer.

The bloke up the back jumps up again and yells out "You fucking bastard".

The Judge calls for order again and says to the man up the back "You must not continue to interrupt the proceedings of this Court. If you have something to say, say it now in an orderly manner.

"Your honour" says the man "I have lived next door to this man for half my life and each time I asked if he would lend me a hammer he told me he didn't have one. He is a total fucking cunt and a bastard".


This Irishman was rung up by the Bank asking why he had such a long password. The password was "grumpydopeysleepyhappydocbashfulsneezydublin"

"Well" said the Irishman "It said on the instructions that my password had to consist of at least seven characters and one capital."


The Sexual Life of the Camel
Is stranger that anyone thinks
At the height of the mating season
He tries to bugger the sphinx.

But the sphinx's posterior orifice
Is blocked by the sands of the Nile
Which explains the hump on the camel
And The Sphinx's inscrutable smile.


In beer there is freedom, in water there is bacteria.

In a number of carefully controlled trials scientists have demonstrated that if we drink water at the end of one year we would have consumed 1 kilo of escherida coli - bacteria found in poop.

Therefore it is better to drink beer and talk stupid than dring water and be full of shit.


Barak Obama and his chief aide were talking in a bar in Washington when this drunk staggered over and said to Obama "Hey man, are you the President?"

Obama replied in the affirmative. So the drunk says "Well what are you talking about: you can tell me because I am too drunk to remember it". So Obama says "We are planning on starting World War 3 by killing 1.8 million Islamists and a blonde with big tits"

"Why the hell would you want to kill a blonde with big tits?" said the drunk.

The Aide chips in and says to the President "See, I told you no-one would care about the Islamists!"


God went to the Arabs and said, "I have Commandments for you that will make your lives better. The Arabs asked, "What are Commandments?" And the Lord said, "They are rules for living."Can you give us an example?" "Thou shall not kill". But the Arabs were not interested because they were in the middle of planning their next atrocity."

Then he went to the Mexicans and said, "I have Commandments." The Mexicans also wanted an example, and the Lord said "Thou shall not steal". But the Mexicans laughed and went on stealing each other's chickens.

Then he went to the French and said, "I have Commandments." The French too wanted an example and the Lord said, "Thou shall not commit adultery". But the French were not interested." So God said "Well how about thou shall honour thy mother and thy father"? But the French said most of them didn't know who their real fathers were.

Then he went to the Greeks and said "I have Commandments." The Greeks also wanted an example, and the Lord said "They shalt not covet thy neighbour's ass". But the Greeks were not interested.

Then he went to the Americans and said "I have Commandments." The Americans also want an example, and the Lord said "Thou shalt not worship false Gods". But the Americans said that they worshipped the Almighty Dollar.

Then he went to the Italians and said "I have Commandments." The Italians also wanted an example, and the Lord said "Thou shalt not blaspheme". But the Italians said "E! Deo Carn, Porco Madonna, what you talk about?" and dismissed the idea.

Finally, He went to the Jews and said, "I have Commandments." "Commandments?" They said, "How much are they?" "They're free." "We'll take 10" They said.


This woman snarled at her hubby "What are you going to do today?" "Nothing" he replied with the equanimity of Buddha.

"You did that Yesterday" she groaned. "Yes" He said calmly "but I haven't finished yet".


This bloke was wandering through the shopping centre when he noticed a nice looking young woman smiling at him. He went up to her and said "Hulllo, have we met before?" "Yes" she said "You are the father of one of my kids". The bloke was a bit taken aback by this. He searched back in his memory and could only think of one indiscretion that he had committed on a night after having had a bit too much to drink. "I say" he said "Are thou the girl I had it off with in the Balgownie Hotel? I laid you on the snooker table while your girl friend was smacking me on the backside with a bunch of wet celery?" "No" she said looking a bit embarrassed "I am your son's Teacher".


A man was having a quiet drink in the Hotel when a short little man wandered in and ordered a beer. After a while another bloke about the same size wandered in and also ordered a beer. After a while one of the little blokes said to the other "Where are you from?" "I'm from Weelyerbarraback" said the first one. "Well I'll be buggered" said the other one "I'm from Weelyerbarraback too." "What a coincidence" said the first one "I'll buy you a drink." They drank together for a while.

"Which street do you live in?" said the second one. "I live in Dragyerbagalong Street" said the first one. "Well I never" said the second one "I live in that street too. I'll have to buy you a drink now." so they consumed another one.

"What's your street number?" said the first one. "I live in number 17" said the second one. "Number 17! What a coincidence" said the first one "I live there too. We will have to have another drink on that".

The man watched all this going on and then, shaking his head, he went to the barman and asked him what was it with the two little blokes. "Oh don't worry about them" said the barman "They are the Murphy twins. They're both pissed".


The Tax Office decides to audit Grandpa, and summons him to their office.

The  auditor was not surprised when Grandpa showed up with his lawyer.

The auditor said, 'Well, sir, you have an extravagant lifestyle and no full-time employment, which you explain by saying that you win money gambling. I'm not sure the Tax Office finds that believable.'

I'm a great gambler, and I can prove it,' says Grandpa. 'How about a demonstration?'

The auditor thinks for a moment and said, 'Okay. Go ahead.'

Grandpa says, 'I'll bet you a thousand dollars that I can bite my own eye.'

The auditor thinks a moment and says, 'It's a bet.'

Grandpa removes his glass eye and bites it. The auditor's jaw drops.

Grandpa says, 'Now, I'll bet you two thousand dollars that I can bite my other eye.'

Now the auditor can tell that Grandpa isn't blind, so he takes the bet.

Grandpa removes his dentures and bites his good eye.

The stunned auditor now realizes he has wagered and lost $3,000, with Grandpa's lawyer as a witness. He starts to get nervous.

'Want to go double or nothing?' Grandpa asks 'I'll bet you $6,000 that I can stand on one side of your desk, and pee into that wastebasket on the other side, and never get a drop anywhere in between.'

The auditor, twice burned, is cautious now, but he looks carefully and decides there's no way this old guy could possibly manage that stunt, so he agrees again.

Grandpa stands beside the desk and unzips his pants, but although he strains mightily, he can't make the stream reach the wastebasket on the other side, so he pretty much urinates all over the auditor's desk.

The auditor leaps with joy, realizing that he has just turned a major loss into a huge win.

But Grandpa's own lawyer moans and puts his head in his hands.

'Are you okay?' the auditor asks.

'Not really,' says the lawyer. 'This morning, when Grandpa told me he'd been summoned for an audit, he bet me $25,000 that he could come in here and piss all over your desk and that you'd be happy about it!'


The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent terrorist threats, and have therefore raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved". Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross". The English have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz in 1940, when tea supplies nearly ran out.

Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to "A Bloody Nuisance". The last time the British issued a "Bloody Nuisance" warning level was in 1588, when threatened by the Spanish Armada.

The Scots have raised their threat level from "Pissed Off" to "Let's get the Bastards". They don't have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years.

The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide". The only two higher levels in France are "Collaborate" and "Surrender". The upgrade was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country's military capability

Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing". Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides"

The Germans have increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs". They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbor" and "Lose".

Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual; the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels.

The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.

Americans meanwhile, and as usual, are carrying out pre-emptive strikes on all of their allies "just in case".

Canada doesn't have any alert levels.

New Zealand has raised its security levels - from "baaa" to "BAAAA". Due to continuing defense cutbacks, New Zealand has only one more level of escalation, which is "I hope Australia will come and rescue us".

Australia, meanwhile, has raised its security level from "No worries" to "She'll be alright, mate". Two more escalation levels remain: "Crikey!", "I think we'll need to cancel the barbie this weekend" and "The barbie is cancelled". So far no situation has ever warranted use of the final escalation level.


A guy was hunting when suddenly a gust of wind blew his gun over causing it to discharge, shooting him in the genitals.

Several hours later, lying in a hospital bed, he was approached by his doctor.

"Well sir, I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that you are going to be OK. The damage was local to your groin, there was very little internal damage and we were able to remove all of the buckshot."

"What’s the bad news?" asked the hunter.

"The bad news is that there was some pretty extensive buckshot damage done to your ‘Willy’, which left quite a few holes in it. I’m going to have to refer you to my sister."

"Well I guess that isn’t too bad," the hunter replied. "Is your sister a plastic surgeon?"

Not exactly," answered the doctor. "She’s a clarinet player in the Boston Symphony Orchestra. She’s going to teach you where to put your fingers so you don’t pee in your eye."


This bloke applied for a job as a lemon picker, but the employer said he thought the bloke was under-qualified for the job. “Well I am not sure about” that he said. “I’ve had three divorces; I back Cronulla Sutherland in the NRL and Essendon in the AFL; I bought a P76 when Leyland launched them; I participated in the first and second tranches of the Telstra Float; I bought a house in Redfern when everyone said it was going to be the next Balmain; and I voted Liberal, second preference Labor, in the last election”. “Heck” said the astonished Employer “Anything else?” “Yes, my drink of choice is Heineken” “You’re hired” said the Employer.


A mother took her five-year-old son with her to the bank on a busy lunchtime.

They got behind a very fat woman wearing a business suit complete with pager.

After waiting patiently for a few minutes, the little boy said loudly, "Wow, She's fat!”

The mother bent down and whispered in the little boy's ear to be quiet.

A couple more minutes passed by and the little boy stretched his arms out as far as they would go and announced "I'll bet her bum is this wide!"

The fat woman turned around and glared at the little boy.

The mother gave him a good telling off, and told him to be quiet.

After a brief lull, the large woman reached the front of the queue.

Just then her pager began to emit a "beep, beep, beep"

The little boy yelled out, "Run for your fucking life, she's reversing!!"


The traffic light turned yellow, just in front of this bloke. He did the right thing, stopping at the crosswalk, even though he could have beaten the red light by accelerating through the intersection.

The tail-gating woman behind him was furious and honked her horn, screaming in frustration, as she missed her chance to get through the intersection, dropping her cell phone and make-up at the same time.

As she was still in mid-rant, she heard a tap on her window and looked up into the face of a very serious police officer. The officer ordered her to exit her car with her hands up.

He took her to the police station where she was searched, fingerprinted, photographed, and placed in a holding cell.

After a couple of hours, a policeman approached the cell and opened the door. She was escorted back to the booking desk where the arresting officer was waiting with her personal effects.

He said, ''I'm very sorry for this mistake. You see, I pulled up behind your car while you were blowing your horn, road-raging at the the bloke in front of you and swearing at him for not running a red light. I noticed the What Would Jesus Do? bumper sticker, the Choose Life license plate holder, the Follow Me to Sunday-School bumper sticker, and the Christian fish emblem on the back window, so naturally.. .I assumed you had stolen the car.''


This Muslim refugee arrived in Australia with his wives and children fleeing from the other Muslims in his home town. He arrived by boat and after some time in detention he was accepted as an Australian citizen. He was determined to integrate into Australia and taught his kids to adopt Australian ways. When two of his sons were old enough he told them to travel around Australia and study the customs of Australians carefully. He said that when they came home he would give the one who had completely integrated a $10,000 reward for his efforts.

The sons came back after a year. The father asked the first son to demonstrate his Australian ways. The son said he ate Weetbix for breakfast and lunched on two meat pies with tomato sauce. He then went down to the Local for several beers and ate roast lamb for tea. He could also recite many jokes about Poms and New Zealanders. The father was very pleased.

Turning to the second son he asked him to demonstrate his Australian ways. “Fuck off Towel-head” was his son’s answer.

(Editor’s note: Settle down Muslims. This is a joke about Australians.)


The Teachers asked her class to draw a Christmas Picture. Little Johnny produced his and the teacher said “Johnny, this is a great picture. I can see Joseph and Mary and the little baby Jesus, and here are the shepherds and the three wise men, and here are the donkeys: but” she said “who is this big fat bloke standing in the corner?” “That” said little Johnny proudly “is Round John Virgin”.


A crusty old Marine Sergeant Major found himself at a gala event hosted by a local liberal arts college. There was no shortage of extremely young idealistic ladies in attendance, one of whom approached the Sergeant Major for conversation.

"Excuse me, Sergeant Major, but you seem to be a very serious man. Is something bothering you?"

"Negative, ma'am. Just serious by nature."

The young lady looked at his awards and decorations and said, "It looks like you have seen a lot of action."

"Yes, ma'am, a lot of action."

The young lady, tiring of trying to start up a conversation, said, "You know, you should lighten up. Relax and enjoy yourself."

The Sergeant Major just stared at her in his serious manner.

Finally the young lady said, "You know, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but when is the last time you had sex?"

"1955, ma'am."

"Well, there you are. No wonder you're so serious. You really need to chill out! I mean, no sex since 1955! She took his hand and led him to a private room where she proceeded to "relax" him several times.

Afterwards, panting for breath, she leaned against his bare chest and said, "Wow, you sure didn't forget much since 1955."

The Sergeant Major said, after glancing at his watch, "I hope not; it's only 2130 now."


Some of us have had brushes with the law on our way home from the odd grog
up over the years.
A few years ago, I was out for a few drinks with some friends at the
Balgownie Hotel on Melbourne Cup day. I had a few too many beers and some
rather good red wine and half a bottle of Port.

Knowing full well I may have been slightly over the limit, I did something
I've never done before. I took a bus home.
Sure enough I passed a police road block but as it was a bus, they waved it
through.  I arrived home safely without incident, which was a real surprise,
as I have never driven a bus before and I can't remember where I got it.


An old nun who was living in a convent next to a construction site noticed the coarse language of the workers and decided to spend some time with them to correct their ways.

She decided she would take her lunch; sit with the workers; and talk with them.

She put her sandwich in a brown bag and walked over to the spot where the men were eating.  Sporting a big smile, she walked up to the group and asked: "Do you men know Jesus Christ?"

They shook their heads and looked at each other. Very confused.

One of the workers looked up into the steelworks and yelled out, "Anybody up there know Jesus Christ?"

One of the steelworkers yelled down "Why?"

The worker yelled back, “Cause his Mum's here with his lunch.”


At a national conference of the Australian Hotels Association, the general managers of Cascade Brewery (Tasmania), Tooheys (New South Wales), XXXX (Queensland), CUB (Victoria) and Coopers (South Australia) found themselves sitting at the same table for lunch.

When the waitress asked what they wanted to drink, the GM of Tooheys said without hesitation, "I'll have a Tooheys New."

The head of Carlton & United smiled and said, “Make mine a VB."

To which the boss of Coopers rejoined, "I'll have a Coopers, the King of Beers."

And the bloke from Cascade asked for "a Cascade, the cleanest draught on the planet."

The General Manager of XXXX paused a moment and then placed his order: "I'll have a Diet Coke."

The others looked at him as if he had sprouted a new head.

"Well”, he said with a shrug, “if you poofters aren't drinking beer, then neither will I.”


A group of blokes from the Russell Vale Golf Club were on the course being held up by a very slow group in front of them.  There was a doctor, and economist, a sociologist and an engineer.

The Club Captain came down and explained to them that the slow group comprised 4 players all of whom were vision impaired.  The Doctor said that he was working on a cure for the blind.  The Sociologist corrected him and said “They are not blind, they are visually challenged which is the term that has replaced ‘visually impaired’ which is a derogatory term recently used by the Club Captain.”. The economist said that he would try to produce an econometric model to help the Club cope with fluctuations and disturbances like the present one.

The Engineer broke in at this point and asked if the four players in front were in fact blind?  When he heard that they were he groaned. “Well why the fuck aren’t they playing at night?"


This red neck from Kempsey was up north a bit, near Coffs Harbour, when the Election was called. His name was Dempsey. So he dropped into the election booth and said "I am Dempsey from Kempsey and I am here to vote". "Absentee?" asked the polling official. "Yes" said Dempsey "I have a white with two sugars”.


As Air Force One arrives at Heathrow Airport, President Obama strides to a warm and dignified reception from the Queen.

They are driven in a 1934 Bentley to the edge of central London, where they change to a magnificent 17th century carriage hitched to six white horses. They continue on towards Buckingham Palace, waving to the thousands of cheering Britons; all is going well.

Suddenly the right rear horse lets fly with the most horrendous earth shattering fart ever heard in London. The smell is atrocious and both passengers in the carriage must use handkerchiefs over their noses. The fart shakes the coach, but the two dignitaries of State do their best to ignore the incident.

The Queen turns to President Obama, "Mr. President, please accept my regrets... I am sure you understand there are some things that even a Queen cannot control."

Obama, always trying to be "Presidential," replied: "Your Majesty, do not give the matter another thought... Until you mentioned it, I thought it was one of the horses."

To be continued indefinitely...

© Giles Pickford | Website created by Michael Pickford