Search This Blog

Saturday, 18 February 2017

The Bloke on the Train.....


I was really squashed up next to a young blonde woman on the train from Manchester yesterday afternoon. She sez to me that I was 'creepily close'. Well, if there had been someone else in the carriage, I'd have asked for their opinion. But there wasn't. So I couldn't....
When we got married, we had the reception at McDonalds. It was the last ‘Happy Meal’ that I ever had. The missus has suggested that we renew our wedding vows. This came as quite a shock to me. I didn't realise there was an expiry date! Fascinating!



Thought for Thursday: Some people are real. Some people are good. Some people are fake. Then, some people are real good at being fake...


Went to the local community centre to see a faith healer last night. He was so bad, this bloke in a wheelchair got up and walked out!


During a lull between the speeches at the recent presidential swearing-in ceremony, Melania Trump leaned over to have a chinwag with the Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson. "You know, I bought Donald a parrot for Christmas. That bird is so smart, Donald has already taught him to pronounce over two hundred words!" "Wow, that's pretty impressive," said Tillerson, "but, you do realise that he just speaks the words. He doesn't really understand what they mean." "Oh, I know," replied Melania," neither does the parrot." Say what you want about Trump. But he has created jobs. The comedy writers and CNN never had it better.


I asked my dentist what she would recommend for yellow teeth. She sez, “How about a brown tie! When she said ‘Open wide’ I thought she meant my mouth. Turns out it was my wallet. £40 for a filling!


Barmy Albert arrives home completely paralytic drunk last Saturday night. He staggers through the door and is met by Non-Stick Nora, who is incandescent with rage and not a happy bunny. “Where the flamin’ hell have you been all night?" she demands. "At this new bar," he proclaims. "The Golden Tavern. Everything there is golden. It's got huge golden doors, a golden floor and even the urinal's gold!" Nora doesn't believe all this addlepated blather, and the next day searches Google, finding a pub in Manchester called The Golden Tavern. She calls up the place to verify Albert’s tale. "Is this the Golden Tavern?" she asks when the landlord answers the phone. "Yes it is," the landlord replies. "Do you have huge golden doors?” "We sure do." "Do you have golden floors?" "Most certainly do." "What about golden urinals?" There was a long pause, then Nora hears the landlord shouting, "Hey, Graham​, I think I got a lead on the dude that pissed in your saxophone last night!"

Don't let stress and anxiety kill you off! Why not let me help? By reading this column regularly you will exercise your guffaw glands and chortle your socks off by howling at all the fine jokes, superb entertainment and gracious hostility. Why not visit my website: or better still, gizzus a tweet on You can email me too! Now, get back to work!

No comments:

Post a Comment