Joke Thread III
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Doug B
Shy Tot
Jester129
Established Member
I asked old Maud how she lost her husband. She told me her sad story.
"Well, he needed a blood transfusion, but his blood type was not on record, so the doctors asked me if I knew what it was, as they urgently needed to know, in order to save my Stan's life.
Tragically, I've never known his blood type, so I only had time to sit and say goodbye.
I'll never forget how supportive my Stan was. Even as he was fading away, he kept on whispering to me, "Be positive, be positive!"
That was my Stan. Always thinking of others.”
"Well, he needed a blood transfusion, but his blood type was not on record, so the doctors asked me if I knew what it was, as they urgently needed to know, in order to save my Stan's life.
Tragically, I've never known his blood type, so I only had time to sit and say goodbye.
I'll never forget how supportive my Stan was. Even as he was fading away, he kept on whispering to me, "Be positive, be positive!"
That was my Stan. Always thinking of others.”
Jester129
Established Member
Jester129
Established Member
John Brown
Freeloading Social media influenza
Poor Stan. I thought they used O negative in that situation.
How did you find me out?
This was how I faked my death to escape from one woman, only to entangle myself again......
Blackswanwood
Still Learning
Doug B
Shy Tot
Blackswanwood
Still Learning
Jester129
Established Member
Jaco
Established Member
An oldie
An archaeologist in Egypt was taking a walk in the town square one morning.
He had to get back to the hotel for a meeting but had forgotten his wristwatch.
He was walking by an old man sitting on a low stool by his camel and asked if he knew the time.
The old man slowly reached over and pushed the camel's testicles to one side and then released them, letting them swing to a stop.
"10:27," he said.
The archaeologist was stunned as he had never seen someone tell time like that before.
He rushed back to the hotel to find his colleagues and brought them back to the town square to find the old man.
Having found him again, the archaeologist said, "I will give you this $50 bill if you'll show me how you tell time.
The old man pocketed the $50 bill and said, "OK, kneel down here with me and put your head close to mine. Now swing the camel's testicles out of the way. Now, can you see the clock on that building over there?"
An archaeologist in Egypt was taking a walk in the town square one morning.
He had to get back to the hotel for a meeting but had forgotten his wristwatch.
He was walking by an old man sitting on a low stool by his camel and asked if he knew the time.
The old man slowly reached over and pushed the camel's testicles to one side and then released them, letting them swing to a stop.
"10:27," he said.
The archaeologist was stunned as he had never seen someone tell time like that before.
He rushed back to the hotel to find his colleagues and brought them back to the town square to find the old man.
Having found him again, the archaeologist said, "I will give you this $50 bill if you'll show me how you tell time.
The old man pocketed the $50 bill and said, "OK, kneel down here with me and put your head close to mine. Now swing the camel's testicles out of the way. Now, can you see the clock on that building over there?"
Reminds me of my basic training in the RAF, which was a few years ago now.
We were on an early morning drill parade and some of us had yet to learn the importance of being "the grey man". We were officer cadets, which placed us in the food chain somewhere below a snake's testicles.
The flight sergeant, ( a very senior sergeant, second only to God [ God = Station Warrant Officer ]) was moving up and down the front rank ranting and raving, armed with a pace stick. For those who don't know, a pace stick is like a set of wooden dividers about three feet long, beautifully varnished, with gleaming brass fittings. It seemed to me its main function was to act as a badge of office, with a secondary role as a surrogate assegai.
Suddenly the flight sergeant rammed the point of his pace stick into the solar plexus of a "horrible little man", causing the unfortunate to curl up slightly having driven the wind from him. This assault was accompanied by the warcry:
"YOU!!!!!! THERE'S A BIT OF SH*T ON THE END OF MY STICK".
The unfortunate was a bit of a wag, and replied hoarsely:
"It's not on my end flight sergeant".
He spent the next half hour paying for this comment carrying out various extreme physical activities while still wearing his number one's ( best blue uniform ) which he subsequently had to spend time on returning to its former pristine state.
Those of us nearby had a struggle maintaining immobility and silence, fearing we would be next to feel the tender caress of the pace stick. Did you know you can redirect a laugh through your ears, which have the same effect as a silencer on an automatic pistol? I didn't either until that moment.
Jester129
Established Member
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