A middle-aged man and woman, both in their early 50’s, walk into the office of Dr Warwick Hunt, a sex therapist. The doctor asks, “What can I do for you?” The man says, “Will you watch us make lurve? The doctor raises both eyebrows, but he is so amazed that such a mature couple are asking for sexual advice, that he agrees. When the couple finishes, the doctor says, “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with the way you have intercourse.” He thanks them for coming, wishes them good luck, charges them £50, and says good bye. A week later the couple returns and asks the sex therapist to watch again. The sex therapist is a bit puzzled, but agrees. This happens several weeks in a row. The couple make an appointment, make mad passionate love, with no problems, pay the doctor, then leave. Finally, after 3 months of this routine, the doctor says, “I’m sorry, but I have to ask. Just what are you trying to find out?” The man says, “We’re not trying to find out anything. She’s married and we can’t go to her house. I’m married and we can’t go to my house. The Holiday Inn charges £98. The Hilton charges £139. We do it here for £50, and I get £43 back from BUPA!”
Little Sally came home from school with a smile on her face and told her mother, “Frankie Brown showed me his tallywacker today behind the bike sheds!” Before the mother could raise a concern, Sally went on to say, “It reminded me of a peanut.” Relaxing with a hidden smile, Sally’s Mum asked, “Really small, was it?” Sally replied, “No… Salty.”
During class, the chemistry professor was demonstrating the properties of various acids. “Now I’m dropping this solid gold coin into this glass of acid. Will it dissolve?” “No, sir,” a student called out. “No?” queried the professor. “Perhaps you can explain why the gold coin won’t dissolve.” “Because if it would, you wouldn’t have dropped it in.”
Farmer Giles Chalfonts stopped by the local mechanics shop to have his truck fixed. They couldn’t do it while he waited, so he said he didn’t live far and would just walk home. On the way home he stopped at the hardware shop and bought a bucket and a gallon of paint. He then stopped by the feed store and picked up a couple of chickens and a goose. However, struggling outside the store he now had a problem – how to carry his entire purchases home. While he was scratching his head he was approached by octogenarian Elsie Grabknuckle, who told him she was lost and confused. She asked: ‘Can you tell me how to get back to my hovel up Scropton Street, near the abattoir?’ Farmer Giles sez: ‘Well, as a matter of fact, my farm is very close to that street, I would walk you there but I can’t carry this lot.’ Elsie suggested: ‘Why don’t you put the can of paint in the bucket. Carry the bucket in one hand, put a chicken under each arm and carry the goose in your other hand?’ ‘Why, thank you very glad,’ he replied and proceeded to walk the old girl home. On the way he suggested: ‘Let’s take my short cut and go down this back snicket. We’ll be there in no time.’ Elsie looked him over cautiously then said, ‘I am a lonely widow without a husband to defend me.. How do I know that when we get up that back snicket you won’t hold me up against the wall, pull up my frilly gansy, and have your wicked way with me?’ The farmer exclaimed: ‘Flamin’ Nora! I’m carrying a bucket, a gallon of paint, two chickens, and a goose. How in the world could I possibly hold you up against the wall and do that?’ With all the dignity that Elise could muster, she replied: ‘Set the goose down, cover him with the bucket put the paint on top of the bucket, and I’ll hold the chickens!’ Isn’t life grand when you’re pots for rags?
I was in our local Tesco, with my significant other and picked up a case of Stella Artois and plonked it in the trolley. “What do you think you’re up to?” screamed the missus. “They’re on special offer, only fifteen quid for two dozen bottles” I replied. “Put them back, we can’t afford them,” she sniffed, and we carried on shopping. A few aisles further on along, the wife picked up a £30 jar of face cream and put it in the trolley. “What do you think you’re doing?” I politely enquired. “It’s my face cream. It makes me look beautiful” replied the missus. I gazed at her with a saturnine grimace and retorted: “So does twenty four bottles of Stella and they are half the price!”
This humour column may exacerbate chronic halitosis, mental aberration, repetitive spasmodic squinting. Imflamed haemorrhoids could hang down lower than a beggars cap. It will enhance Joggers Nipple, Strapadichtomy, Tourettes and Varicose Brain Syndrome. For further jocular clarification, why not visit my website. Just clickety-click on www.ComedianUK.com. You can also email me: firstname.lastname@example.org Now, get back to work!