Three Best Jokes

May 14th 2006

In the way of a change, here are my all time three favourite jokes, in no particular order –

 

A woman complained to her husband about her small breasts, telling him she wished they were bigger. He said: “Just rub between them with a piece of tissue paper every day.” She said: “Will that make them bigger? “ He said: “I don’t see why not, it worked for your arse.”

 

The Chief of a tribe of Red Indians always named the new born papooses. In his forty years as Chief he had named over five thousand. One day one of the Indian Braves asked him how he went about choosing a name. “It easy,” said the Chief. “When baby born I look around me. See deer running in forest. Call baby Running Deer. See white cloud in sky. Call baby White Cloud. But tell me, Two Dogs Fucking, why you so interested?”

 

A man was released from Strangeways prison after serving twenty years. What he needed, and fast, was a woman. Any woman. A prostitute would be fine. A prostitute would be preferred in fact, because you don’t have to bullshit them first. But all he had to his name was ten pence and a pair of plimsolls. On the streets of Manchester he approached a prostitute. ‘How much do you charge, love?” he asked. “Five pounds,” she replied. “I’ve only got ten pence and a pair of plimsolls,” said the man. “Ten pence and a pair of plimsolls?” scoffed the prostitute. “I’m not doing it for that; what do you think I am?” The man pleaded with her, explaining that he was newly released from prison and desperate for the comfort a woman. The prostitute softened to his story. “Well all right then,” she said. “But there won’t be any passion. You can’t expect any passion for ten pence and a pair of plimsolls.” But the man wasn’t bothered that the liaison would be passionless on her part, he had enough passion for the both of them. She took him to his flat, and without ceremony, but with a condom, they got on the bed and started to make love. After a short while the prostitute’s arms came up and around the man and her legs rose off the bed and wrapped round him. The man smirked and said to her “I thought you said there wouldn’t be any passion?” She said “I’m trying on the plimsolls.”

 

So there they are. If you know of any funnier jokes I’d love to hear them.

 

Published by

Razzamatazz

Hi. I’m Terry Ravenscroft, I’m aged 67 and…..whoooah, come back, I’m not ready to have the lid nailed down on my coffin just yet. Anyway I’m a very young 67. (About five years ago I went to see Pulp at the Manchester Evening News Arena. I was older than everyone else by at least 35 years. The eighteen-year-old next to me asked me if I’d ever been to the venue before. I replied ‘Yes I saw George Formby here once’. She’d never heard of him.) This blog is going to be about my life and the way I see things. Before I retired I was a comedy scriptwriter for Les Dawson and Smith and Jones amongst others so there’s a sporting chance that some of the things I write will be funny. One of the reasons I’m writing this blog, although by no means the only reason, is because I have a website www.topcomedy.co.uk which I hope you will log on to occasionally. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t like Dear Air 2000…. My hobbies are walking, playing crown green bowls, watching football, birdwatching , cooking, and, according to The Trouble, moaning. Oh, and I have a thing about Kristen Scott Thomas. A couple of people I will be mentioning from time to time are The Trouble and Atkins Down The Road. The Trouble is my wife. I don’t call her The Trouble because it’s cockney rhyming slang for ‘wife, trouble and strife’, but because she has the habit of starting sentences, especially to me, with the words ‘The trouble with you is….’ Then goes on to complete the rest of the sentence with words like ‘you never listen when I’m talking to you’ or ‘you never see the other person’s point of view’ or some such other frivolous complaint. Atkins Down The Road is my best friend and lives, not surprisingly, down the road. I started a weblog a couple of years ago but stopped doing it to write a novel about golf called ‘A Good Walk Spoiled.’ If you want to read the weblog it can be found on my website, if you want to read the novel it can be found on my other website, Razzamatazz, at www.razza.fsnet.co.uk along with lots of other things. Hi. I’m Terry Ravenscroft, I’m aged 67 and…..whoooah, come back, I’m not ready to have the lid nailed down on my coffin just yet. Anyway I’m a very young 67. (About five years ago I went to see Pulp at the Manchester Evening News Arena. I was older than everyone else by at least 35 years. The eighteen-year-old next to me asked me if I’d ever been to the venue before. I replied ‘Yes I saw George Formby here once’. She’d never heard of him.) This blog is going to be about my life and the way I see things. Before I retired I was a comedy scriptwriter for Les Dawson and Smith and Jones amongst others so there’s a sporting chance that some of the things I write will be funny. One of the reasons I’m writing this blog, although by no means the only reason, is because I have a website www.topcomedy.co.uk which I hope you will log on to occasionally. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t like Dear Air 2000…. My hobbies are walking, playing crown green bowls, watching football, birdwatching , cooking, and, according to The Trouble, moaning. Oh, and I have a thing about Kristen Scott Thomas. A couple of people I will be mentioning from time to time are The Trouble and Atkins Down The Road. The Trouble is my wife. I don’t call her The Trouble because it’s cockney rhyming slang for ‘wife, trouble and strife’, but because she has the habit of starting sentences, especially to me, with the words ‘The trouble with you is….’ Then goes on to complete the rest of the sentence with words like ‘you never listen when I’m talking to you’ or ‘you never see the other person’s point of view’ or some such other frivolous complaint. Atkins Down The Road is my best friend and lives, not surprisingly, down the road. I started a weblog a couple of years ago but stopped doing it to write a novel about golf called ‘A Good Walk Spoiled.’ If you want to read the weblog it can be found on my website, if you want to read the novel it can be found on my other website, Razzamatazz, at www.razza.fsnet.co.uk along with lots of other things.

3 thoughts on “Three Best Jokes”

  1. There was this young Irish girl who’d been away from home for about five years. One day she knocks on the door and her father answers.

    “Where in the name of Jesus and Mary have ya been all these years?” he asks.

    “Da’ I’m ‘afraid to tell you I’ve become a prostitute,” she says. “That’s why I’ve been away so long”

    The father says, “Girl, ya’ never darken me door again! Get out, ya’ hear me? This will kill your ma!”

    The girl replies, “Da’ I’ll go but can I leave the gold Rolex for me brother, and can I leave the Sable coat for ma’, and dad, can I leave the BMW for you, too? Oh, da, I still would like if you and me brother and mother would come on me yacht to the Islands over the holidays, too.”

    The father says, “Now what was it ya’ said you become, daughter?”

    “A prostitute, da’.”

    The father says, ” Oh praise heaven, girl! I thought ya’ said ya’ become a Protestant.”

  2. A Pacific cruise ship sinks with only 3 survivors. David, Darren and Daisy swim to a small island and live there for a couple of years doing what comes naturally. After 2 years Daisy feels so bad about having sex with David and Darren she kills herself. It’s sad for David and Darren but they get over it and again nature takes it course. After a couple more years the lads feel really bad about what they are doing so………..they bury her
    —————————————-
    A bear, a lion and a chicken were debating who was the hardest.
    The bear says “When I roar the whole forest trembles”
    The lion says “When I roar the whole jungle shakes with fear”
    The chicken says “All I have to do is sneeze and the whole world shits itself”
    ————————————-
    Bird flu has arrived in the UK and is attacking all wild and rough birds.

    My wife is unwell.
    ————————————-
    A man marries a deaf girl and writes a note to her. “We must have a code for sex. If I want sex I’ll stroke your left breast. You reply by pulling my penis. Once for yes and 150 times for no”
    ——————————————–
    Kate Moss bumps into Jeremy Clarkson at a celeb night out. “And what do you do?” she asks. “I’m in Top Gear”. “Great” she says, “I’ll have 4 ounces”

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