What with the pension age being increased, coupled with the current cost of living crisis, we are now forced to toil well into our old age. Yesterday, I spotted a pensioner working in the local supermarket car park collecting shopping trolleys. He must’ve been pushing eighty!
I phoned the local council office, last week and the automated voice announced: “If you’d like to speak in Welsh, please press one.” I pressed one, but I still can’t speak Welsh!
The CEO of a large blue-chip company decided to award a prize of £150 for the best idea of saving the company money during the recession. It was won by a young executive who suggested reducing the prize money to £10.
I bumped into my next-door neighbour Barmy Albert on the High Street. He had two black eyes. I asked him what had happened." He replied, "I was standing behind a rather large woman at the supermarket checkout, I noticed that her dress was caught in the nape of her derriere, so I pulled it out. She turned around and punched me square in the eye." "Where did you get the other shiner from?" I politely enquired. "Well, I figured she preferred it the way it was before, so I pushed it back in."
A Scouser got stopped by police coming out of Currys PC World on suspicion of shoplifting. The copper sez to him: "I'm going to perform a search. Do you have anything sharp in your pockets?" The crafty Liverpudlian replied: "No. Only Sony and Panasonic...."
Non-Stick Nora asked Barmy Albert what he’d been up to in the garden shed all morning. "I've made a papier mâché model of Mount Kilimanjaro." He informed her. Nora asked: "Is it to scale?" "No. Just to look at...." Albert replied. Isn’t life grand when you’re barmy.
Crimewatch Latest: Tameside Police are hunting the ‘Knitting Needle Nutter’ who has stabbed six people in the last week. Police believe the attacker could be following some sort of pattern.
Of course, some folks are so wealthy, they are totally immune and bullet-proof to the present economic downturn. I was watching a faux documentary on Netflix called: ‘Being Victoria Beckham’ and I must confess that I was staggered by the abject affluence that was paraded before my impecunious countenance. Apparently, she owns a top of the range Bentley Turbo and employs a proper liveried chauffeur, complete with uniform and peaked hat. They were bombing it down these narrow country lanes in Hertfordshire, going far too fast for these somewhat precariously cramped thoroughfares, when suddenly, disaster struck! A lone Heffer strayed out of a farm gateway, the chauffeur failed to stop in time and subsequently flattened the poor unfortunate animal onto the tarmacadam. Posh went bananas and screamed at the chauffeur: “If the press get hold of this, there’ll be ructions! Here’s a few hundred quid, go to the farmhouse and sort it out. Keep a lid on it. We want no paparazzi!” The poor chauffeur went and came back four hours later, paralytic drunk, his hat skewiff and a large cigar in his mouth. Posh screamed at him again and asked: “Where’ve you been for the last four hours?” With all the dignity that he could muster, he replied: “they opened a valuable bottle of 50 year-old Macallan Malt Whisky that they kept purely for very special occasions!” She sez: “What exactly did you say to them?” he replied: “All I said was that I was Posh Spices chauffeur and I’ve knocked the cow over and they wouldn’t let me go!”
There was much shenanigans in the bank, yesterday morning. I was in there with the missus. She wasn’t speaking to me, primarily because of my new keep-fit regime. She told me: “You’ve been out four nights running!” Suddenly, the plot thickened and this bloke entered, wearing a balaclava and brandishing a pistol. He sez to the woman in front of us, “Did you see my face, before I put this mask on?” The woman replied, “Yes, I certainly did!” So, he shot her! Oh folly, folly! Then he turned to me and asked me the same question. I replied, “No I didn’t. But the wife did!”
Wit is often a mask. If you could peer behind its gossamer façade, you would find either genius irritated or cleverness wriggling. That’s why you should never let your mind wander. Summat that small shouldn’t be out on its own. Nurse, fetch the screens! Visit my www.ComedianUK.com. You can also email me:comedianuk@sky.com Now, get back to work!
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