Joke Thread

[Bigdave]

Police arrested two teenagers yesterday.One was drinking battery acid and the other was eating fireworks.

They charged one and let the other one off.

Courtesy of the late,great Tommy Cooper.

The old ones are the best stan

[QPRDave]

was in east london earliar , this fella run up to me and pulled my pants up from behind ..... i think it was wedgie kray

[vblockranger]

A man was visiting his wife in hospital where she has been in a coma for several years. On this visit he decides to rub her left breast instead of just talking to her. On doing this she lets out a sigh. The man runs out and tells the doctor who says this is a good sign and suggests he should try rubbing her right breast to see if there is any reaction. The man goes in and rubs her right breast and this brings a moan. From this, the doctor suggests that the man should go in and try oral sex, saying he will wait outside as it is a personal act and he doesn't want the man to be embarrassed. The man goes in then comes out about five minutes later, white as a sheet and tells the doctor his wife is dead. The doctor asks what happened to which the man replies: "She choked."

[dsqpr]

One Liners

* The wife suggested I get myself one of those pen1s enlargers, so
I did. She's 25, and her name's Kathy.

* Went to our local bar with my girlfriend last night. Locals were
shouting "pedophile!" and other names at me, just because my
girlfriend is 24 and I'm 50. It completely spoiled our 10th anniversary.

* My son was thrown out of school today for letting a girl in his
class give him a hand-job. I said "Son, that's three schools this
year! You'd better stop before you're banned from teaching altogether."

* The cost of living has now gotten so bad that my wife is having
5ex with me because she can't afford batteries.

* A man calls 911 and says "I think my wife is dead". The operator
says, "How do you know?" The man says, "The 5ex is about the same,
but the ironing is piling up!"

* I was explaining to my wife last night that when you die you get
reincarnated, but must come back as a different creature. She said
she would like to come back as a cow. I said, "You obviously
haven't been listening."

* The Red Cross just knocked on my door and asked if we could
contribute towards the floods in Pakistan. I said we'd love to,
but our garden hose only reaches the driveway.

[QPRDave]

..* My son was thrown out of school today for letting a girl in his
class give him a hand-job. I said "Son, that's three schools this
year! You'd better stop before you're banned from teaching altogether."

* I was explaining to my wife last night that when you die you get
reincarnated, but must come back as a different creature. She said
she would like to come back as a cow. I said, "You obviously
haven't been listening."

* The Red Cross just knocked on my door and asked if we could
contribute towards the floods in Pakistan. I said we'd love to,
but our garden hose only reaches the driveway.......

very good mate

[dsqpr]

How to start a fight

One year, I decided to buy my mother-in-law a cemetery plot as
a Christmas gift...

The next year, I didn't buy her a gift. When she asked me why, I replied, "Well, you still haven't used the gift I bought you last year!"

And that's how the fight started.....
________________________________

My wife and I were watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire while we were in bed. I turned to her and said, 'Do you want to have 5ex?'. 'No,' she answered, and then I said, 'Is that your final answer?' She didn't even look at me this time, simply saying, 'Yes..'. So I said, "Then I'd like to phone a friend."

And that's when the fight started...
________________________________

My wife and I were sitting at a table at her school reunion, and she kept staring at a drunken man swigging his drink as he sat alone at a nearby table. I asked her, "Do you know him?" "Yes", she sighed, "He's my old boyfriend. I understand he took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear he hasn't been sober since." "My G od !" I said, "Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?"

And then the fight started...
_______________________________

When our lawn mower broke and wouldn't run, my wife kept hinting to me that I should get it fixed. But, somehow I always had something else to take care of first, the shed, the boat, making beer... Always something more important to me. Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point.

When I arrived home one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors. I watched silently for a short time and then went into the house. I was gone only a minute, and when I came out again I handed her a toothbrush. I said, "When you finish cutting the grass, you might as well sweep the driveway."

The doctors say I will walk again, but I will always have a limp.
______________________________

My wife sat down next to me as I was flipping channels.

She asked, "What's on TV?" I said, "Dust."

And then the fight started...
________________________________

Saturday morning I got up early, quietly dressed, made my lunch, and slipped quietly into the garage. I hooked up the boat to the van and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour. The wind was blowing 50mph, so I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad all day. I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed. I cuddled up to my wife's back; now with a different anticipation, and whispered, "The weather out there is terrible." My loving wife of 5 years replied, "And, can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that?"

And that's how the fight started....
_______________________________

My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary. She said, "I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 150 in about 3 seconds."

I bought her a bathroom scale.

And then the fight started......
______________________________

After retiring, I went to the government offices to apply for Social Security. The woman behind the counter asked me for my driver's License to verify my age. I looked in my pockets and realized I had left my wallet at home. I told the woman that I was very sorry, but I would have to go home and come back later. The woman said, 'Unbutton your shirt'. So I opened my shirt revealing my curly silver hair. She said, 'That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me' and she processed my Social Security application.

When I got home, I excitedly told my wife about my experience at the Social Security office. She said, 'You should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten disability too.'

And then the fight started...
________________________________

My wife was standing n ude , looking in the bedroom mirror. She was not happy with what she saw and said to me,

"I feel horrible; I look old, fat and ugly. I really need you to pay me a compliment." I replied, "Your eyesight's darn near perfect."

And then the fight started...
________________________________

I rear-ended a car this morning...the start of a REALLY bad day! The driver got out of the other car, and he was a DWARF!! He looked up at me and said 'I am NOT Happy!' So I said, 'Well, which one ARE you then?'

That's how the fight started.

[dsqpr]

The Sandpiper (not a joke)

The Sandpiper


by Robert Peterson




She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live.


I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.


"Hello," she said.


I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.


"I'm building," she said.


"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not really caring.

"Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand."

That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.

A sandpiper glided by.

"That's a joy," the child said.

"It's a what?"

"It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy."


The bird went gliding down the beach. Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on. I was depressed, my life seemed completely out of balance.


"What's your name?" She wouldn't give up.


"Robert," I answered. "I'm Robert Peterson."


"Mine's Wendy... I'm six."

"Hi, Wendy."

She giggled. "You're funny," she said.

In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on.

Her musical giggle followed me.


"Come again, Mr.. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."

The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat.

The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me.. The breeze was chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed.

"Hello, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to play?"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.

"I don't know. You say."

"How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.

The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is."

"Then let's just walk."

Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face.
"Where do you live?" I asked.

"Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.

Strange, I thought, in winter.

"Where do you go to school?"

"I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation"

She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.


Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.


"Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today." She seemed unusually pale and out of breath.

"Why?" she asked.

I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, My God, why was I saying this to a little child?

"Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."

"Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and -- oh, go away!"

"Did it hurt?" she inquired.

"Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself.

"When she died?"

"Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding,
wrapped up in myself. I strode off.


A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there. Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A .drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.


"Hello," I said, "I'm Robert Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was."


"Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much. I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies."


"Not at all! she's a delightful child." I said, suddenly realizing
that I meant what I had just said.


"Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukemia
Maybe she didn't tell you."


Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath.


"She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no. She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." Her voice faltered, "She left something for you, if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?"


I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope with "MR. P" printed in bold childish letters.. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues -- a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed:


A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.


Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I uttered over and over, and we wept together. The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words -- one for each year of her life -- that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love.


A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand
-- who taught me the gift of love.




NOTE: This is a true story sent out by Robert Peterson. It happened over 20 years ago and the incident changed his life forever. It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other. The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less.


Life is so complicated, the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a momentary setback or crisis..


This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all means, take a moment... even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and smell the roses.


This comes from someone's heart, and is read by many
and now I share it with you.

;
May God Bless everyone who receives this! There are NO coincidences!


Everything that happens to us happens for a reason. Never brush aside anyone as insignificant. Who knows what they can teach us?



I wish for you, a sandpiper.

[vanhoop]

The Sandpiper


by Robert Peterson




She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live.


I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.


"Hello," she said.


I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.


"I'm building," she said.


"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not really caring.

"Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand."

That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.

A sandpiper glided by.

"That's a joy," the child said.

"It's a what?"

"It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy."


The bird went gliding down the beach. Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on. I was depressed, my life seemed completely out of balance.


"What's your name?" She wouldn't give up.


"Robert," I answered. "I'm Robert Peterson."


"Mine's Wendy... I'm six."

"Hi, Wendy."

She giggled. "You're funny," she said.

In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on.

Her musical giggle followed me.


"Come again, Mr.. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."

The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat.

The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me.. The breeze was chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed.

"Hello, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to play?"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.

"I don't know. You say."

"How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.

The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is."

"Then let's just walk."

Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face.
"Where do you live?" I asked.

"Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.

Strange, I thought, in winter.

"Where do you go to school?"

"I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation"

She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.


Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.


"Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today." She seemed unusually pale and out of breath.

"Why?" she asked.

I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, My God, why was I saying this to a little child?

"Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."

"Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and -- oh, go away!"

"Did it hurt?" she inquired.

"Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself.

"When she died?"

"Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding,
wrapped up in myself. I strode off.


A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there. Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A .drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.


"Hello," I said, "I'm Robert Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was."


"Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much. I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies."


"Not at all! she's a delightful child." I said, suddenly realizing
that I meant what I had just said.


"Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukemia
Maybe she didn't tell you."


Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath.


"She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no. She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." Her voice faltered, "She left something for you, if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?"


I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope with "MR. P" printed in bold childish letters.. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues -- a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed:


A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.


Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I uttered over and over, and we wept together. The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words -- one for each year of her life -- that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love.


A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand
-- who taught me the gift of love.




NOTE: This is a true story sent out by Robert Peterson. It happened over 20 years ago and the incident changed his life forever. It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other. The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less.


Life is so complicated, the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a momentary setback or crisis..


This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all means, take a moment... even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and smell the roses.


This comes from someone's heart, and is read by many
and now I share it with you.

;
May God Bless everyone who receives this! There are NO coincidences!


Everything that happens to us happens for a reason. Never brush aside anyone as insignificant. Who knows what they can teach us?



I wish for you, a sandpiper.

That brought a tear on mate,sad but true.

[vespa]

f ucking ell ,i`m welling up now, too.

[davidla80]

Mmmm, perhaps not true http://www.snopes.com/glurge/sandpiper.asp

[acricketer]

Mmmm, perhaps not true http://www.snopes.com/glurge/sandpiper.asp

I wish for you a sandpiper

[vespa]

here`s a joke Alan Davies told , every time i think of it it makes me grin ,but i don`t know why..........

Two Beekeepers talking
First Beekeeper -altogether ive got 50,000 bees living in 10 different hives
Second Beekeeper- ive got 80,000 bees living in 1 hive .............f uck em they`re only bees !

[QPRDave]

give us a hug van...in fact hugs to all QPR

[twranger]

here`s a joke Alan Davies told , every time i think of it it makes me grin ,but i don`t know why..........

Two Beekeepers talking
First Beekeeper -altogether ive got 50,000 bees living in 10 different hives
Second Beekeeper- ive got 80,000 bees living in 1 hive .............f uck em they`re only bees !

Strictly speaking, shouldn't that be "firtht", "beekeeperth" ,"beeth" and "hiveth".......

[QPReuge]

Paddy and murphy are walking along the lane when paddy spots a sheep with its head stuck in some railings and its **** sticking up in the air. "Theres nothing for it" he says as he slips off his trousers and proceeds to sling one up the poor sheep.
When he's finished he turns to his mate and says "your turn Murphy"
Murphy replies " Jesus paddy, I'll never fit my head in those railings"