Barmy Albert was languishing at the bar in his local pub, the Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife, when Dastardly Dennis, the barkeep sidled up and sez: “I see that you have an empty glass. Would you like another?” Albert gazed at him, with a saturnine grimace and replied: “Now what would I want with two empty glasses?” That’s when the fight started!
When the alarm sounded off and many klaxons reverberated, Non-Stick Nora was apprehended by the security bloke at Tesco. Upon conducting a thorough search, he discovered a leg of lamb concealed beneath her plaid gansy. He asked her: “Now what are you doing with this?” Nora replied: “Well, I thought that some mashed potatoes, broccoli and carrots and swede would be nice!” The security bloke chortled and bid her good day.
A woman with a face like a careless beekeeper sat next to me on the train yesterday morning. She asked me if I had any pets. I sez: “Yes, I've got a goldfish.” “Any hobbies?” I replied: “Yeah, it swims a lot.”
Thought for Thursday: They should announce a sequel to Groundhog Day, and then just re-release the original filum. It’d be hilarious!
When my Nanna developed jaundice, her countenance turned a yellow ochre shade and we just called her Bananna. It was a similar situation when my mate Sid had his I.D. stolen. We just call him ‘S’ nowadays. Isn’t life grand when you’re barmy!
During the protracted and somewhat arduous Covid lockdown farrago, sheer boredom activated my thought processes and I became quite inventive. I dreamed up the concept of 6ft long Christmas Crackers in order to encourage and facilitate social distancing at family Yuletide gatherings. Gifts inside the crackers were hand sanitizer, face masks & vaccines. I sold them in the local pound shop. Astra Zeneca were two quid each or three for a Pfizer. I didn’t put a Covid joke in the crackers because 98% of folk wouldn’t have got it. I received much coveted recognition for my efforts from our (then) prime minister Boris Johnson, who sent me an award of a suitcase full of booze. Unfortunately, all the bottles were empty. He also sent me an autographed photo of himself that I have pinned up on my study wall. It's quite a captivating picture. The lies follow you round the room….
I managed to get on Dragons Den with some of my other brainwaves. Of course, necessity is the mother of invention. When you’re caravanning or camping, then space is at an absolute premium, so I created a folding bottle that I called a ‘Fottle’ and Duncan Bannatyne said it was a rubbish concept. Unfazed, I pressed on, informing him, "Well I've invented a folding kettle, I call it a “Fettle’ is that any good?" "Nope! It's been done already, pal." He curtly informed me. Feeling thoroughly dejected, I left the Dragons Den and I didn't even bother to tell him about my folding bucket...
I bought a couple of books from Waterstones, last week. The first tome was called ‘101 uses for WD-40.’ I discovered it in the non-friction section. Apparently, according to this book, the only tools you need in your DIY arsenal is Gaffa tape and WD-40. For instance, If summat dosen’t move and it should, then apply the WD-40. If it moves and it shouldn’t, then use Gaffa tape. The second novella is called: ‘Childish Retorts’ by Euan Hoozami.
I simply adore that nice warm feeling you get when putting on fresh underwear straight from the tumble drier. Moreover, I also enjoy looking around the launderette wondering just who these skimpy garments belong to.
Fascinating Fact: They reckon that when you lose one sense, then your other senses are enhanced. That’s why folk with no sense of humour have an increased sense of self-importance.