Prawns

A woman was sitting on a train opposite a skinhead man who was eating fresh prawns.

Every time he ate one, he spat the tail in her direction, requiring her to deflect it.

He finished the box and threw it out the window.

Seeing this, she had enough and pulled the train’s Emergency Cord.

The skinhead looked at her and said, “You’ll get fined £50 for doing that!”

She laughed and said, “When I cry rape and they smell your fingers, you’ll get 10 years!!”

Weather

It is late fall and the Indians on a remote reservation in Mattawa asked their new chief if the coming winter was going to be cold or mild.

Since he was a chief in a modern society, he had never been taught the old secrets of the tribe. When he looked at the sky, he couldn’t tell what the winter was going to be like.

Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, he told his tribe that the winter was indeed going to be cold and that the members of the village should collect firewood to be prepared.

But, being a practical leader, after several days, he got an idea. He went to the phone booth, called the Weather Network and asked, “Is the coming winter going to be cold?”

“It looks like this winter is going to be quite cold”, the meteorologist at the weather service responded.

So the chief went back to his people and told them to collect even more firewood in order to be prepared.

A week later, he called the Weather Network again. “Does it still look like it is going to be a very cold winter?”

“Yes”, the man at the weather service again replied, “it's going to be a very cold winter.”

The chief again went back to his people and ordered them to collect every scrap of firewood they could find.

Two weeks later, the chief called the Weather Network again. “Are you absolutely sure that the winter is going to be very cold?”

“Absolutely”, the man replied. “It's looking more and more like it is going to be one of the coldest winters we've ever seen.”

“How can you be so sure?” the chief asked.

The weatherman replied, “Because the Indians are collecting a shitload of firewood!”

Nursing Home

An Arabic family was considering putting their grandfather, Abdullah, in a nursing home. All the Arabic facilities were completely full so they had to put him in an Italian nursing home.

After a few weeks in the Italian facility, they came to visit grandpa.

“How do you like it here?” asks the grandson.

“It’s wonderful! Everyone here is so courteous and respectful”, says grandpa.

“We’re so happy for you. We were worried that this was the wrong place for you. You know, since you are a little different from everyone else.”

“Oh, no! Let me tell you about how wonderfully they treat the residents”, Abdullah says with a big smile.

“There's a musician here – he’s 85 years old. He hasn't played the violin in 20 years and everyone still calls him ‘Maestro’! There is a judge in here – he’s 95 years old. He hasn't been on the bench in 30 years and everyone still calls him ‘Your Honour’! There’s a dentist here 90 years old. He hasn't fixed a tooth for 25 years and everyone still calls him ‘Doctor’! And me - I haven't had sex for 35 years and they still call me, ‘The Fucking Arab’.”

Rindercella

Originally shown on BBC TV back in the 1970's, Ronnie Barker could say all this without a snigger, though who knows after how many takes it took.

The story of Rindercella and her sugly isters.

Rindercella and her sugly isters lived in a marge lansion. Rindercella worked very hard frubbing sloors, emptying poss pits and shivelling shot.

At the end of the day, she was knucking fackered. The sugly isters were right bugly astards. One was called Mary Hinge, and the other was called Betty Swallocks; they were really forrible huckers; they had fetty sweet and fatty swannies.

The sugly isters had tickets to go to the ball, but the cotton runts would not let Rindercella go.

Suddenly there was a bucking fang, and her gairy fodmother appeared. Her name was Shairy Hithole and she was a light rucking fesbian. She turned a pumpkin and six mite wice into a hucking cuge farriage with six dandy ronkeys who had buge hollocks and digbicks. The gairy fodmother told Rindercella to be back by dimnlight otherwise, there would be a cucking falamity.

At the ball, Rindercella was dancing with the prandsome hince when suddenly the clock struck twelve. “Mist all chucking frighty!!!” said Rindercella, and she ran out tripping barse over ollocks, so dropping her slass glipper.

The very next day, the prandsome hince knocked on Rindercella's door and the sugly isters let him in. Suddenly, Betty Swallocks lifted her leg and let off a fig bart. “Who's fust jarted?” asked the prandsome hince. “Blame that fugly ucker over there!!” said Mary Hinge.

When the stinking brown cloud had lifted, he tried the slass glipper on both the sugly isters without success and their feet stucking funk.

Betty Swallocks was ducking fisgusted and gave the prandsome hince a knack in the kickers. This was not difficult as he had bucking fuge halls and a hig bard on. He tried the slass glipper on Rindercella and it fitted pucking ferfectly.

Rindercella and the prandsome hince were married. The pransome hince lived his life in lucking fuxury, and Rindercella lived hers with a follen swanny!

Banking

Ed Miliband walks into a bank to cash a cheque. “Good morning”, says Ed, “could you please cash this cheque for me?”

Cashier: “It would be my pleasure Sir, but could you please show me some identification?”

Miliband: “Truthfully… I did not bring my ID with me as I didn’t think there was any need to. But hang on! I’m Ed Miliband, Leader of the Opposition and of the Labour Party!!!”

Cashier: “"Yes Sir, I know who you are, but with all the regulations and monitoring of the banks because of impostors and forgers etc, I must insist on seeing some identification”.

Miliband: “Just ask any of the customers here at the bank who I am and they will tell you. Everybody knows who I am!”

Cashier: “I'm sorry Sir, but these are the bank rules and I must follow them”.

Miliband: “I am urging you please, to cash this cheque for me”.

Cashier: “Look Sir, this is what we can do. One day Colin Montgomery came into the bank without any ID. To prove he was Colin Montgomery he pulled out his putter and putted a ball along the floor and into a small cup. With that sort of skill we knew it was Colin Montgomery and we cashed his cheque. On another occasion, Andy Murray came in without any ID. He pulled out his tennis racquet and lobbed a tennis ball straight into my teacup with such a spectacular shot that we all knew it was Andy Murray and we cashed his cheque. So Sir, what can you do to prove that it is you and only you, as the Leader of the Opposition?”

Ed Miliband stood there thinking and thinking and then finally says, “To be honest, there is nothing that comes to my mind. I can't think of a single thing that I’m any good at.”

Cashier: “Will it be large or small notes you require Mr Miliband?”

Bowling

An elderly Scottish Jew has decided to take it a little easier and take up bowls. So he puts his name down at the local club. After a week he receives a message that his application has been turned down. So he goes down to the club to inquire why.

Secretary: You are aware that this is a Scottish bowls club?

Scot: Aye, but I am as Scottish as you are Jock. 

Secretary: This means that on formal occasions we wear kilts.

Scot: Aye, so do I.

Secretary: You are aware that we wear nothing under our kilts?

Scot: Aye, neither do I.

Secretary: But you are a Jew?

Scot: Aye, I be that.

Secretary: So you are circumcised?

Scot: Aye, I be that too.

Secretary: I am terribly sorry, but the members just would not feel comfortable with that.

Scot: Ach, away with ye man. I know that ye have to be a Protestant to march with the Orangemen. And I know that ye have to be a Catholic to become a Knight of Saint Columbus. But this is the first time I heard that ye have to be a complete prick to join a bowls club.