Friday, 16 August 2019
Vote for ME!!
I’ve started a petition! I need your signature. I’m going to hopefully become your temporary Prime Minister, until the revolution. I’ve decided to have a go at this because I have no idea what to do, but I get the feeling that nobody else does either, so I might be very good at it, but then again... Anyway, don’t forget to vote for me!
When I was little kid we were so poor that my sister was made in Taiwan. Sometimes we only had bits of old rope to eat. I would often skip breakfast, lunch, dinner and tea. We used to think that knives and forks were jewellery.
Most of the kids in our class backed their school exercise books with wallpaper. My dad used to Artex mine. My dad took me to school every single day. He had to. He was in the same class.
"If women ruled the world" the missus curtly informed me, "There'd be no wars." I replied: "That's because wars require strategy and logic... “That’s when the fight started....
Fascinating Fact: I'm very good in the bedroom department. 20 years I worked for IKEA.
Non-Stick Nora and Barmy Albert were out strolling around the reservoirs, when suddenly Nora exclaimed: "Didya just see that?" "Nope," Albert replies. "Well, a kestrel just flew overhead." "Oh," responded Albert. A couple of minutes later, Nora sez: "Did you see that?" "See what?" "Are you flamin' blind? There was a big, black armadillo scuttering up that hill, over there." "Dint see it" A few minutes later Nora shouted, "Did you see that?" By now, Albert getting aggravated, so he says, "Yes, I did!" And Nora replied: "Then why did you step in it?"
Incidentally, Barmy Albert’s fruit and veg shop has just gone into liquidation. He now makes smoothies...
Yesterday was awful. I phoned the suppository helpline. They were so rude!
I was doing a gig at Fisons Fertilisers Football Club at Fiddlers Ferry, last weekend, with Terry Tinsel, who is a ventriloquist friend of mine. Terry was telling this joke about blonde girls liking BMW cars, because that’s the only car they can spell, when suddenly, a blonde girl in the audience stood up and started screaming and shouting that he was belittling and stereotyping blonde women. Terry, the ventriloquist then unreservedly apologised for upsetting the lady and she replied: “I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to that little cretin on your knee!” Isn’t life a hoot, when you’re doo-lally!
I came, I saw, I forgot what I was doing, retraced my footprints, got waylaid on my return journey and now I haven’t got the foggiest idea of what’s going on. We need another referendum to find out. Boris! Get it sorted, matey! You can find out all sorts of comedic paraphernalia by visiting my website. Clickety-click on: www.ComedianUK.com and continue the quest! Email me: firstname.lastname@example.org