Search This Blog

Monday, 26 July 2021

If you're happy and you know it.....


The grand opening ceremony of the Olympic Games in Tokyo was conducted in an empty stadium. Just like the Disney World in Tokyo which was also empty because everyone is too small to go on the rides!


Liverpool losing their World Heritage Title doesn’t surprise me. I remember when they built Knowsley Safari Park adjacent to a council estate and the tenants association took umbrage and contacted their MP, protesting about what might occur if a lion or a gorilla escaped and got into their council estate and the MP replied: “It would just have to fend for itself.”


Just imagine five years from now, you put on a coat that you haven’t worn for ages and upon putting your hand in the pocket, you discover a face mask and say to yourself: “Wow! What a bleak period that Covid pandemic was!”  Well, you have a chortle to yourself, pick up your axe and ride across a dystopian landscape,  navigating your quad bike through a desolate tundra, then suddenly and inexplicably fall into an abyss, being flipped over and pinned underneath, then a marauding pack of predatory ice weasels come.  Just like marriage really!


What's the difference between a jazz band and a rock band?  A rock band plays three chords for five thousand people, whereas, a jazz band five thousand chords for three people.


Barmy Albert was languishing in the Pit Bull & Stanley Knife Public House last night, larruping back copious tankards of Farquarharsons Old & Filthy Best Bitter British Beer, when he sez to Non Stick Nora, "Have I told you that you look absolutely divine tonight?" "No, you haven't" she said with a bashful smile. "Well, there's a reason for that," he replied....


The missus phoned me the other day and the conversation went thus:
Her: “You know that Spartacus Gladiator box set that I got you?”
Me: “What about it?”
Her: “Put Volume 2 in the DVD player. Forward it exactly one hour, 16 minutes and 28 seconds.”
Me: “Right, I’ve done that”
Her: “Okay, you see the gladiator at the front, fighting the lion!”
Me: “I can see that, yeah.”
Her: “Just behind him, there are two gladiators having a sword fight with each other!”
Me: Okay, I see them.”
Her: “Well, behind them two, on the left hand side of the screen, there’s a gladiator guarding the gate holding a spear.”
Me: “Yes! I can see him!”
Her: Can you see his feet?
Me: Yes, I can!
Her: Right! Those are the sandals I want for my birthday!”


On Monday, I escorted the mother-in-law to her doctor’s appointment. She had a carrot stuck fast up her nose, a banana jammed in one ear and a cucumber was lodged in her other ear! The doctor asked me, “What seems to be the problem?”I said “Well, I’m no medical expert myself, doctor. But I don't reckon that she's eating properly.”


I'm not saying I'm lonely and have no friends but I'm the only person in the country that hasn't been pinged! 



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.  You can find out all sorts of comedic paraphernalia by visiting my website.  Clickety-click on: and continue the quest!  Email me:    Now get back to work!



Tuesday, 20 July 2021

Put another prawn on the Barbie.....




Because it is ‘that’ time of year and we are all about to enter the brief barbecue season, I thought it might be wise to outline the official rules of play. You will be aware that tempestuous rain (in monsoon proportions) has battered the UK during this summertime, so I consider that it is of great importance to refresh your memory on the appropriate etiquette and ensuing protocol that must be strictly adhered to with regard to this sublime alfresco catering scenario.

Women, listen up! Let’s get it straight, when a man volunteers to do the barbecue, a sequence of events are put into motion:

(1) The woman will attend the supermarket ‘early doors’ and make any necessary purchases of food and accompanying comestibles.

(2) The woman will marinade all meat, prepare and make good any salad, bake jacket spuds in tin-foil, accompanied by any other miscellaneous vegetables, such as asparagus, wrapped in Parma ham. Further extreme care should be taken when making a nice pudding, such as my fave apple and almond cake. Custard should contain no lumps and should therefore be sieved through a stocking.

(3) The woman prepares and seasons the meat (prior to cremation), subsequently placing it on a platter, along with the requisite cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is languishing beside the grill, larruping ale down his neck. Note: He has a beer in each hand, in an effort to maintain the correct balance.

(4) The woman remains outside the mandatory three yard exclusion zone where the exuberance of testosterone and other male bonding activities can manifest themselves, without the interference of the aforementioned mithering female.

Here comes the important part:

(5) The male of the species will then place the meat on the grill.

(6) The woman goes inside to organise any requisite crockery, cutlery and other accessories.

(7) The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is looking superb. He thanks her and asks if she will bring another beer while he flips the meat over, thereby engaging in a system of strict rotation.

(8) The man removes meat from grill and will then pass it to the woman for administration purposes.

(9) The woman prepares the crockery, cutlery, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, condiments,
sauces, and fetches the same to the table. If she is unable to do this all at once, then she should make several trips.

(10) After the man and all the kids finish scoffing all the grub, the woman shall then clear and wipe down the table and stack the dishwasher accordingly.

(11) Everyone praises the MAN and thanks HIM for his culinary expertise and efforts.

(12) The man asks the woman how she enjoyed her ‘day off ‘and, upon seeing her gobsmacked countenance and flabbergasted reaction (she has a face like a murderers labourer), concludes that there's just no pleasing some women!


                                              If you're happy and you know it......

Monday, 12 July 2021

It's gone to Rome, It's gone to Rome, it's gone to Rome. Footballs gone to Rome!



I wrote a joke about Covid that I fully intended to include in this week’s column. However, I haven’t used it because I reckoned that 98% of folk wouldn’t get it.

July 19th sees an end to all this Covid kerfuffle and social distancing gubbins. Me and the missus have been sleeping at opposite ends of the bed, with six feet between us. I still don’t know who they belonged to!

It's gone to Rome, It's gone to Rome, it's gone to Rome. Footballs gone to Rome! One minute it was Hands-Face-Space and the next it’s “Hands, touching hands, reaching out, touching me, touching you! Such a mass of contradictions!

A rather austere woman (She looked like she’d been bobbing for apples in a chip pan) recognised me as I was sauntering down Scropton Street. She sez: 'It's you isn't it? It really is you!”' I coyly replied: “Yes, it's definitely me!” She then asked me: “When are you coming back to finish my patio?”


Of course, this happens on a constant basis. I was in a taxi to the airport, before the lockdown and the driver kept looking at me through the rear-view mirror. After a while he sez: “Well give us a clue then, mate.” I gave him a brief resume of my showbiz career, starting off at Belle Vue in a clown act, whilst still attending school and named a few TV shows that I’d appeared in, culminating in working as an after-dinner speaker on the corporate circuit. He became quite agitated and shouted: “No. Which terminal do you want dropping off at?”

I managed to burn 10,000 calories yesterday! My advice is - don’t fall asleep with cakes in the oven!


As the Kardashians celebrate their 20th season, I would like to congratulate myself for never watching a single episode!

This girl from Wigan finds out she's pregnant. She's only 16. Even worse, it's twins. After much soul-searching, she has the babies, which turn out to be identical. She then gives them up for adoption. Time passes, and many years later her maternal instincts drive her to find out what happened to them. Following a great deal of research she discovers that one of them was adopted by a Spanish couple, and was christened Juan. The other was adopted by an Egyptian couple and named Amal. She manages to trace the Spanish couple, and contacts them. They send her a photograph of the boy, who is now a fine young man. Unfortunately, she is unable to discover the whereabouts of the Egyptian couple. As she sits in her mother's house in Wigan, she looks lovingly at the photo of her long-lost son. "Oh, Mother," she says, "I'm so happy to be able to see one of my sons, but how I wish I could also see his brother as he is today." "Don't worry," says her mother, "they're identical. When you've seen Juan, you've seen Amal."

What's more fun than a barrel of monkeys? Why, that would be reading this gloppy but funny column in this fantastic newspaper! Besides, monkeys bite, scratch and are prone to occasionally spitting. If you opt for the monkeys, be sure to be up to date on your rabies and tetanus vaccines and remember that you should never monkey around with another monkey’s monkey! You can visit my website though and troll my now famous ‘Jokey-Bloggington’. Just clickety-click on

Monday, 5 July 2021

It's coming home! Wahay!



Non Stick Nora told Barmy Albert that she’d received her test results back and that she has contracted the dreaded ‘C’. Albert sez: “Covid?” Nora replied: “No. Dyslexia!” Albert tried to console her, but she was consumed with sorrow. “Not just dyslexia.” Nora opined “The hospital has sent me a letter telling me that I have tiny toes!” Albert gazed at the letter and informed her: “No, you’re mistaken Nora. You have tinnitus...”

The rumour going around last Saturday was that the game was being called off because of a Covid breakout in the Ukraine camp. Apparently their right back Tikili Chestikov had it. It was later discovered that it was just one of my jokes.


You have to feel sympathy for Tory MP Lee Anderson who refused to watch England roaring into the semi-finals, because he was boycotting all of their matches over players taking the knee! Who’d a thowt it!


“Mummy," asked little Nellie, "Why do you always cut the ends off of the sausages before you put them in the pan?" "Oh, that's just the way my mother always did it. You'll have to ask her." The next time her grandmother visited "Granny," asks little Nellie, "Why do you and mummy cut the ends off of the sausages before you put them in the pan?" "Oh, that's just the way my mother always did it," replied Nellie's granny. "You'll have to ask her." "Great Granny," asks Nellie the next time they visit her slightly doo-lally great grandmother at the nursing home, "Why do you and Granny and Mummy always cut the ends off the sausages before you put them in the pan?" "Oh, for Pete’s sake!" sez Great Granny, “Are they still using that small pan?"


Elsie Grabknuckle's dog had gone deaf. She took it to the vet, who examined the canine and pronounced: “Nowt wrong with the dog, Elsie. Hair has grown too long in its ears, so I’ve trimmed it out and its right as nine pence.” Elsie thanked him profusely and asked what to do if the problem reoccurred. The vet told her to go to the chemist and buy some Immac hair remover and put a dab of it in the dog’s ears once a week. On the way home, she called in to the pharmacy and asked for the product. The chemist sez: “If you’re using it under your arms Elsie, then don’t use deodorant for a few days coz it’ll sting and if you’re using it on your legs, don’t apply anything like fake tan, because it’ll cause a nasty rash.” Elsie proclaimed: “It’s not for my arms or legs. It’s for my Schnauzer!” The chemist replied: “Well, don’t ride your bike for a week....”


If you made a mistake, then apologise. If you are thankful, just tell me. If you’re confused, ask me any question. If you are lucky enough to learn summat new, then teach it. If you are stuck, ask for assistance. If you’re wrong, admit it. If you are in a position to unselfishly give, then send me £10. If you love someone, tell me NOW! If you’re famished, ask someone to go to Greggs. If you fancy a chortle, then visit my website: and visit my all new Covid Jokey-Bloggington! There’s only 3 more lockdowns to Christmas!