Wimbledon and other gubbins....

                     

I was watching Wimbledon with the wife earlier & she asked me what my favourite Wimbledon moment of all time was. "Easy" I replied "It was when they beat Liverpool in the 1988 FA Cup Final"


The bloke in the shop told me: "This is the new Google Smartwatch. It allows users to send texts and emails, surf the web, schedule appointments or play games or music, It will also act as a fitness tracker. I said "That's brilliant! But how do you tell what time it is?" He replied, "Oh, that's what your phone is for..."


Breaking News: Rolf Harris has had to pull out of Peter Pan. Instead of this, he now has Aladdin.

It does my head in when some people say "I'm a vegetarian, except for fish". Oh Yeah! Well, I'm a teetotaller, except for beer....


According to the Bible, Jesus was born in Bethlehem, in Palestine, a country full of people called Mohammed, Abdul, Mounir, Aziz, Ashad, Ahmed, Faroukh, Omar, Isha, Musa, Youssouf, Mouloud, etc.

And yet he managed to find 12 friends called Matthew, Mark, Peter, John, James, Bartholomew, Phillip, Thomas, Luke, Andrew, Simon and Judas Iscariot - who all drank wine! Don't you think that's a miracle?


I sez to the window cleaner, "Because I caught you peeping at the missus through the bathroom window, I'm confiscating your ladders. And if I catch you doing it again, further steps will be taken"...

I asked 100 women what brand of shampoo do they use in the shower. 98% of them said "How the f**k did you get in here?" Why make a fuss about how I got inside your house. The important thing is that we're together now.


Last night, I tried to share a donner kebab with a homeless guy I saw sitting on a bench in Manchester town centre. He told me to f**k off and buy my own.


If you read this weekly column regularly, then you help to make unimportant world decisions dealing with irrelevant, uncomplicated issues that influence insignificant amounts of human lives. Visit my website http://www.ComedianUK.com and continue the quest! Email me:comedianuk@sky.com
                                           

A Terrific TRUE Story!

This story is confirmed in Elmer Bendiner's book, The Fall of Fortresses.
*Sometimes, it's not really just luck.*


Elmer Bendiner was a navigator in a B-17 during WW II. He tells this story of a World War II bombing run over Kassel, Germany, and the unexpected result of a direct hit on their gas tanks. "Our B-17, the Tondelayo, was barraged by flak from Nazi antiaircraft guns. That was not unusual, but on this particular occasion our gas tanks were hit.

Later, as I reflected on the miracle of a 20 millimeter shell piercing the fuel tank without touching off an explosion, our pilot, Bohn Fawkes, told me it was not quite that simple. "On the morning following the raid, Bohn had gone down to ask our crew chief for that shell as a souvenir of unbelievable luck.

The crew chief told Bohn that not just one shell but 11 had been found in the gas tanks. 11 unexploded shells where only one was sufficient to blast us out of the sky. It was as if the sea had been parted for us. A near-miracle, I thought.

Even after 35 years, so awesome an event leaves me shaken, especially after I heard the rest of the story from Bohn.

"He was told that the shells had been sent to the armorers to be defused. The armorers told him that Intelligence had picked them up. They could not say why at the time, but Bohn eventually sought out the answer. "Apparently when the armorers opened each of those shells, they found no explosive charge. They were as clean as a whistle and just as harmless.

Empty? Not all of them! One contained a carefully rolled piece of paper. On it was a scrawl in Czech. The Intelligence people scoured our base for a man who could read Czech. Eventually they found one to decipher the note. It set us marveling. Translated, the note read:


*"This is all we can do for you now ... Using Jewish slave labour is never a good idea."

It's Death, Jim. But Not As We Know It....

 

A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales. The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat was very small. The little girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale.

Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human; it was physically impossible.

The little girl said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah."

The teacher asked, "What if Jonah went to hell?"

The little girl replied, "Then you ask him...."



Barmy Albert and Non-Stick Nora made a pact that whoever died first would come back and inform the other if there is sex after death. Their biggest fear was that there was no after life at all .......

After a long life together, Albert was the first to kick the bucket. True to his word, he made the first contact: "Nora, Nora, can you hear me?"

"Is that you, Albert?"

"Yes, I've come back like we agreed."

"That's wonderful! What's it like?"

"Well, I get up in the morning, I have sex. I have breakfast and then it's off to the golf course. I have sex again, bathe in the warm sun and then have sex a couple of more times..

Then I have lunch (and Nora, you'd be proud -- lots of greens). Another romp around the golf course, then pretty much have sex the rest of the afternoon. After supper, it's back to the golf course again.

Then it's more sex until late at night. I catch some much needed sleep and then the next day it starts all over again".

"Oh, Albert! Are you in Heaven?"

"No -- I'm a rabbit somewhere on Wimbledon Common....."

A man who just died is delivered to the mortuary wearing an

expensive,expertly tailored black suit. The mortician asks the deceased's wife

how she would like the body dressed. He points out that the man

does look good in the black suit he is already wearing.



The widow, however, says that she always thought her husband looked

his best in blue, and that she wanted him in a blue suit. She gives the

mortician a blank check and says, "I don't care what it costs, but

please have my husband in a blue suit for the viewing."



The woman returns the next day for the wake. To her delight, she

finds her husband dressed in a gorgeous blue suit with a subtle chalk

stripe; the suit fits him perfectly.



She says to the mortician, "Whatever this cost, I'm very satisfied.

You did an excellent job and I'm very grateful. How much did you

spend?"



To her astonishment, the mortician presents her with the blank check.



"There's no charge," he says.



"No, really, I must compensate you for the cost of that exquisite

blue suit!" she says.



"Honestly, ma'am," the mortician says, "it cost nothing." "You see, a

deceased gentleman of about your husband's size was brought in

shortly after you left yesterday, and he was wearing an attractive blue suit.

I asked his wife if she minded him going to his grave wearing a black

suit instead, and she said it made no difference as long as he looked

nice."

"Oh, so you exchanged suits?" she asked. "No" said the Mortician "I switched heads".


                         

Suárez Latest!

Yellow 24....

This bloke goes into the doctors feeling rather unwell. The doctor gives him a thorough examination and concludes, "Sorry, the prognosis is not good. I have some bad news, you have Yellow 24, a really nasty virus. It's called Yellow 24 because it turns your blood yellow and you usually only have 24 hours to live. There's no known cure so just go home and enjoy your final precious moments on earth."


So he trudges home to his wife and breaks the news. Distraught, she asks him to go to the bingo with her that evening as he's never been there with her before. They arrive at the bingo and with his first card he gets four corners and wins £35. Then, with the same card, he gets a line and wins £320. Then he gets the full house and wins £1000. Then the National Game comes up and he wins that too, netting £380,000.

The bingo caller gets him up on stage and says, "Son, I've been here 20 years and I've never seen anyone win four corners, a line, the full-house and the national game on the same card. You must be the luckiest man on Earth!"  "Lucky?" he screamed. "Lucky? I'll have you know I've got Yellow 24 ."

"F**K me," says the bingo caller. "You've won the raffle as well !"

                             

WORLD CUP RULES FOR WOMEN.....

Ladies. Listen Up!


The following is extremely important advice (plus some recommendations) that needs to be passed on to wives, girlfriends, fiancés, mothers, sisters, daughters, etc., (basically, all women in general). These rules need to be communicated prior to the 2014 World Cup (it starts TONIGHT!)

List of Rules

1. From 12th June to 13th July 2014, you should read the sports section of the newspaper so that you are aware of what is going on regarding the World Cup, and that way you will be able to join in the conversations. If you fail to do this, then you will be looked at in a bad way, or you will be totally ignored. DO NOT complain about not receiving any attention.

2. During the World Cup, the television is mine, at all times, without any exceptions. If you even take a glimpse of the remote control, you will lose it (your eye, not the remote).

3. If you have to pass in front of the TV during a game, I don't mind, as long as you do it crawling on the floor and without distracting me. If you decide to stand nude in front of the TV, make sure you put your clothes on right after because if you catch a cold, I won't have time to take you to the doctor or look after you during the World Cup.

4. During the games I will be blind, deaf (but unlike The Who’s ‘Tommy’© I am also mute), unless I require a refill of my drink or something to eat. You must be out of your mind if you expect me to listen to you, open the door, answer the telephone, or pick up the baby that just fell from the second floor. It just won't happen.

5. It would be a good idea for you to keep at least 2x six packs of beer (for any guest); more importantly, (at least) 2x eight packs of Diet Coke with Cherry© (for me) as well as plenty of things to nibble on, and please do not make any funny faces to either of my friends when they come over to watch the games. In return, you will be allowed to use the TV between 12am and 6am, unless they replay a good game that I may have inadvertently missed during the day.

6. Please, please, PLEASE!! (IMPORTANT BIT HERE): if you see me upset because my team is losing, DO NOT say ‘get over it, it’s only a game’ or ‘don't worry, they'll win it next time’ or any derivatives. If you say these things, you will only make me angrier and I will love you less. Remember, you will never ever know more about football than me and your so-called words of encouragement will only lead to a break up or divorce… or me buying a gun (after the tournament is over, obviously).

7. You are welcome to sit with me to watch one game and you can talk to me during halftime - but only when the commercials are on, and only if the half time score is pleasing to me. In addition, please note I am saying one game, therefore do not use the World Cup as a nice cheesy excuse to spend time together.

8. The replays of the goals are very important. I don't care if I have seen them or I haven't seen them, I want (and need) to see them again. Many times. From lots of different angles. Repeatedly.

9. Tell your friends NOT to have any babies or child-related parties / gatherings that may require my attendance, as:

a) I will not go;

b) I will not go… and:

c) I will not go... …but, if either of my friends invites us to his house on a Sunday to watch a game, we will be there in a flash.

10. The daily World Cup Highlights Show on TV every night is just as important as the games themselves. Do not even think about saying ‘…but you have already seen this. Why don't you change the channel to something we can all watch?’ Kindly refer to Rule #2 (above).

11. And finally, just save those expressions such as ‘Thank God the World Cup is only every 4 years’. I am now completely immune to such words, because after this comes the Champions League, Italian League, Spanish League, etc. (…possibly even the odd Manchester City or Arsenal game…)

12. Thank you for your co-operation (in advance) he said, rather optimistically.


Signed,


Men of the World.        

                                                   

If you don't do anything else today, be sure to tell someone about the hilarious comic Austin Knight and this craze-ridden newspaper column! Spread the gospel around the local pub, the lap dancing bar, the dole office, on the train coming back from community service, on the bus returning from visiting your probation officer, and at 30,000 leagues beneath the sea. Okay, forget about the underwater gubbins but do all the rest, that's an order! Visit my website too! www.ComedianUK.com   You can email me: comedianuk@sky.com

England World Cup Squad Fly In...

Hooray! It's the start of the World Cup today! Or as they call it in Scotland, 'Thursday'..

                             

Rik Mayall....

Following the sad passing of Rik Mayall, I got all sentimental and started Googling 'Young Ones' and 'Bottom'. Before I knew it, the police had arrested me, seized my computer and taken me in for questioning!

Joining Independence of the Seas.

Home for today, getting packed and ready to fly to Southampton tomorrow to join Independence of the Seas for Royal Caribbean. Getting off at Gibraltar. Back next week.

A Business Opportunity Like No Other!

                     

       

Are you looking for a home-based business opportunity that really works? Do you want to earn ££££’s? Money Talks! Mine used to say ‘Goodbye!’ But not anymore! Have you considered getting out of the rut and starting a new rut? Well look no further, because this is the business opportunity for you! Grab the lifestyle you love. Be able to spend time between your town house in the peaceful village of Moss Side and your holiday home in Cellarfield.

Why not convert your cellar into a sausage-knotting factory? Then enlist a dozen illegal immigrants into an indentured apprenticeship and let the fun begin. It really is that easy!

"But how do I convert my cellar into a sausage-knotting plant?"
It's quite simple. Purchase a surplus tranche of sausage-knotting machinery, then buy a pallet load of horse meat and bung both acquisitions down in your cellar.

“Okay, that sounds easy enough, but where do I locate Bulgarian and Romanian workers to enlist into a dodgy indentured apprenticeship?"
Hire a massive truck, take a trip to Calais and open the rear doors of the vehicle. The container will literally fill itself within a matter of seconds.

"I live in Stalybridge. Can I rent a truck and just park it at the Calais border?"
You most certainly can. However, it might take a considerable amount of time for you to collect a wagon load of prospective workers. I would strongly suggest baiting the truck with flagons of cold beer, menthol cigarettes and hot meat pies with chips and mushy peas, smothered in rich onion gravy.

"I'm producing a hundred yards of gourmet horse meat knotted sausage per hour. Who am I going to offload all this awful offal on?"
Believe it or not, that isn't a stoopid question. All of the major supermarket and fast food outlets, as well as many High Street restaurants will leap at the opportunity to purchase your product. If all else fails, go fetch another truckload of immigrants and start a tin-canning business up in your loft. Everyone simply adores tinned horse meat and you can easily market your products at a local car boot sale.

"Is this business legal?"
Providing that you don’t get raided by the Trading Standards Authorities, you should have no trouble whatsoever. If your operation should be discovered, you can exercise one of the following three options in order to avoid being detained at Her Majesty’s Pleasure:

1) Do a runner.
2) Have it away on your toes.
3) Go on the missing list.

This is all that you need to know to get yourself started in the exciting world of sausage- knotting production. It's a jovial activity for your estranged family together with former friends and you should reap the rewards for many years to come, or until you get your collar felt.


If you read this weekly column regularly, then you help to make unimportant world decisions dealing with irrelevant, uncomplicated issues that influence insignificant amounts of human lives. Visit my website http://www.ComedianUK.com and continue the quest! Email me:comedianuk@sky.com




                           

Brokeback Passage?

                             

                     

A successful rancher died and left everything to his devoted wife. She was a very good-looking woman and determined to keep the ranch, but knew very little about ranching, so she decided to place an ad in the newspaper for a ranch hand. Two cowboys applied for the job. One was gay and the other a drunk. She thought long and hard about it, and when no one else applied she decided to hire the gay guy, figuring it would be safer to have him around the house than the drunk. He proved to be a hard worker who put in long hours every day and knew a lot about ranching. For weeks, the two of them worked, and the ranch was doing very well. Then one day, the rancher's widow said to the hired hand, 'You have done a really good job, and the ranch looks great You should go into town and kick up your heels.' The hired hand readily agreed and went into town one Saturday night. One o'clock came, however, and he didn't return. Two o'clock and no hired hand. Finally he returned around two-thirty, and upon entering the room, he found the rancher's widow sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine, waiting for him. She quietly called him over to her. 'Unbutton my blouse and take it off,' she said. Trembling, he did as she directed. 'Now take off my boots.' He did as she asked, ever so slowly. 'Now take off my stockings.' He removed each gently and placed them neatly by her boots. 'Now take off my skirt.' He slowly unbuttoned it, constantly watching her eyes in the fire light. 'Now take off my bra.' Again, with trembling hands, he did as he was told and dropped it to the floor. Then she looked at him and said, 'If you ever wear my clothes into town again, you're fired.'

The Definition of Aplomb....

His Lordship was in the study at Downton Abbey when the butler approached and coughed discreetly.
"May I ask you a question, My Lord?"
"Go ahead, Carson ," said His Lordship.
"I am doing the crossword in The Times and I have found a word I am not too clear on." "What word is that?" asked His Lordship.
"Aplomb, My Lord".
"Now that's a difficult one to explain. I would say it is self-assurance or complete composure."
"Thank you, My Lord, but I'm still a little confused."
"Let me give you an example to make it clearer. Do you remember a few months ago when the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge arrived to spend a weekend with us?"
"I remember the occasion very well, My Lord. It gave the staff and myself much pleasure to look after them."


"Also," continued the Earl of Grantham, "do you remember when Wills plucked a rose for Kate in the rose garden?"



"I was present on that occasion, My Lord, ministering to their needs.
"While plucking the rose, a thorn embedded itself in his thumb very deeply."
"I witnessed the incident, My Lord, and saw the Duchess herself remove the thorn and bandage his thumb with her own dainty handkerchief."

"That evening the hole that the rose made on his thumb was very sore. Kate had to cut up his venison even though it was extremely tender."

"Yes, My Lord, I did see everything that transpired that evening."

"The next morning while you were pouring coffee for Her Ladyship, Kate inquired of Wills with a loud voice, 'Darling, does your prick still throb?'




"And you, Carson, did not spill one drop of coffee!.......


THAT is aplomb."

Chronicles of a Chauvinist....

It is imperative for all us lads to remember, that as women grow older it becomes
harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when
they were younger. When you notice this, try not to shout at them. Some
females are oversensitive and there’s nothing worse than an oversensitive woman. Let me relate how I handled the situation with the missus, (I call her ‘Narnia’, because she has hair like a lion, looks like a witch and she is the size of a wardrobe). When I took "early retirement" last year, it became necessary for Narnia to get a full-time job, both for extra income and primarily beer tokens.

Shortly after she started working I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf course about the same time she gets home from work. Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don’t yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table.

I generally have lunch in the restaurant at the club, so eating out is not an option. I’m ready for some home cooked grub when I get home. She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now, it’s not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won’t clean themselves. I know she appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed. She starts work early (she is a Gritter over Woodhead) I really think my experience as an entertainer helps a lot. I consider telling people what they ought to do, in a jocular fashion; it’s one of my strong points. Now that she has gotten older, (she has a face like a pirate’s flag) she does seem to get tired so much more quickly.

Our washer and dryer are in the cellar. Sometimes she says she just
can’t make another trip down those steps. I don’t make a big issue of this; as long as she finishes all the laundry the next evening, I’m willing to overlook it. Not only that, but unless I need something ironed to wear to the Monday lodge meeting, or to Wednesday’s or Saturday’s lap-dancing club, or to Tuesday’s or Thursday’s bowling, or summat like that, I will tell her to wait until the next evening to do the ironing. This gives her a little more time to do some of those odds and ends like shampooing the dog, vacuuming or dusting. It’s all a matter of getting her chores into perspective.

Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example, she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But boys, we take them for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won’t have to rush so much. When she’s taking out the rubbish, she remonstrates that it is too heavy, so I advise her to make three trips. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn’t hurt her at all (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.