Today's Joke

[Marian]

Maybe she could get one at the Cats Protection League.

[ROBERT M.]

Meowwwwwwww

[keithgood838]

Hi Robert, thanks for your support on the next-door thread -
very neighbourly. I propose to climb aboard your unchaste
train of thought, this time without needing, I hope,
a contents warning.

REVERSING ROLES

A man suggested to his wife:
'Honey, how about changing positions tonight?'
'Fine by me,' she concurred.
'You stand by the ironing board,
and I'll lie on the sofa watching television.'

DOING IT DIGITALLY

A man and woman get embroiled in the tricky topic
of who gets the most pleasure from making love.
He asserts: 'Men obviously enjoy sex more; why do you
think we're obsessed about it?'
'That doesn't prove a thing,' she retorts forcefully.
'Think about this: when your ear itches
and you put your finger in it and wiggle it about,
which feels better, your ear or your finger?'

[ROBERT M.]

I think a warning was nearly needed for joke #2 Keith .............very good they were

[keithgood838]

Hi Robert, here's another that I hope isn't X certificate:

OUTSIDE KNOWLEDGE

A couple decided that the only way they could have a quickie
while their ten-year-old son was in the apartment was to send
him out on to the balcony and let him give them a running report
on the goings-on in the neighbourhood. So the lad duly stood
on said balcony and reported everything that was happening:
'A police car has just called at the Hamiltons house, the Chandlers
are taking delivery of a new wardrobe, and the Mitchells are having sex.'
On hearing this the boy's parents shenanigans were abruptly terminated -
a classic case of coitus interruptus:
'How do you know they are having sex?' was the concerned cry.
'Because their kid is standing on the balcony, too.'

[ROBERT M.]

Another good un' Keith

[keithgood838]

Hi Robert, I think it's time to change topic before the censors
decide to wield their blue pencil:

SITTING DUCKS

A couple of police patrol men decide to stake out a bar
in an effort to increase their arrests numbers by fingering
the collars of drunk drivers.
At closing time they see a man stumble out of the bar,
fumble for his car keys, and take minutes to get behind
the wheel. Meanwhile everyone else leaves the bar
and drives away.
When the coppers' target finally moves away, one of them
is waiting for him, gets him to pull over and makes him take
a breathalyser test.
The test shows that the man's blood alcohol level is zero.
'That can't be right', mumbles the bemused policeman.
'Yes it can,' asserts the man.
'Tonight I'm the designated decoy.'

[ROBERT M.]

Another good one Keith..........but I saw that one coming half way through

[keithgood838]

You are quicker off the mark that I am Robert;
I didn't get that joke till I typed the punchline.

PUN PURVEYING

My butcher couldn't make ends meat so he
invited me to take a steak in the business.
I reckoned I could beef things up.
However, I soon realised the stock was of pork
quality. Meanwhile, the butcher had taken
to the bottle and ignored my warning
that he was damaging his liver and heart;
he would chicken out of dealing with customers
and started talking turkey.
One day he arrived for work in a sirloincloth.
He became ham-fisted and I feared I might
have to give him the chop. Then the air-conditioning
failed and the shop became bacon hot.
The final straw came when, with an e-veal smirk,
he slapped a customer on her rump.
I suggested he take a holiday and he said
he'd run the idea past Rami, his wife.
Having failed to hear from him the next day
I feared the wurst. Sure enough, the till was open
and the safe had been emptied. He'd gone on the lamb.
Suffice to say, I closed the business and cut my molasses.

[Lena & Harry Smith]

Well sussed out Robert because I had no idea how the Sitting Ducks joke was going to end... The years take their toll
The Butchers tail left me feeling stuffed.
Good ones again Keith

[Marian]

I agree, some good ones recently guys

[keithgood838]

'ave a butchers 'ere, Lena & 'arry:

APT AR.. ALLITERATION

A butcher backed into the bacon slicer
and got a little behind in his orders.

[Lena & Harry Smith]

Well would you adam and eve it Keith, but an In- law relative of ours had a finger cut off at Wall's factory where he worked and it went in with the sausages. Absolutey true I promise, but this was many years ago.

[keithgood838]

Maybe your relative's line manager asked him
to pull his finger out and he went too far, L&H.
If the disembodied digit found its way into the food chain,
I doubt it would have tasted finger-lickin' good;
but at least it would have presented the recipient
diner with the possibility of fingering the company
for a bit of tasty compensation.

WARDROBE WORRIES

A woman is having trouble with the doors of her wardrobe;
every time a bus goes by her house, the rumble makes
them fly open. In exasperation she calls a carpenter
but he is unable to see any problem on the outside,
so he climbs inside to investigate.
At that very moment, the woman's husband arrives home,
opens the wardrobe and sees the carpenter inside.
'What the hell are you doing in there?' he yells.
'You won't believe this,' splutters the whey-faced carpenter,
'but I'm waitin' for a bus.'

THE BURGLAR - epidode two

This a a true account of a disconcerting incident that occurred
recently in the Good household - in the bedroom to be precise.
I had retired before my wife and I was relishing that dreamy,
half-asleep stage prior to crossing the Nodland border
and on into the rolling landscapes of sleep ('the unfathomable
deep forest where all must lose their way' - poet Edward Thomas),
but I digress.
My wife then joined me and as she settled in and I snuggled up,
there burst a loud whipcrack sound that seemed to come
from the bottom of the bed.
My first thought was that an aggressive burglar had entered
the room and brought his fist down on the bed with all the strength
he could muster.
I jumped out of bed and to my immense relief there was no
intruder in the room. My next piece of unerring deduction suggested
that a shelf in our well-fitted Sharps wardrobes had crashed.
I began feverishly to open each door only to find that the secure,
neatly-stacked shelving was mocking proof of my futile actions.
By now Mary was laughing hysterically, not through fear but
rather at my unintended Corporal ('Don't panic!') Jones impression.
Next day the culprit turned out to be a poorly replaced (by whom?)
bakelite caster (protection for our laminate wood flooring) that
cracked under the additional weight (I'm back in trouble, now)
that was brought to bear on it.
In the aftermath of this 'disturbing' experience, the resumption
of my reverie in the arms of Morpheous was a doze too far.

[Gray]

Wonderful to read all these!