Joke of the Day

[Kira-Dee]

There is a blonde, a redhead and a brunette on the stairway to heaven.

God says, "There are 3,000 steps and I'll tell you a joke on each 1,000th step you reach. If you laugh you go to hell."

So they start walking and reach to the first 1,000th step. God tells a joke, the brunette laughs and goes to hell.

Then on the 2,000th step God tells a joke, the redhead laughs and goes to hell.

On the 3,000th step God tells a joke, the blonde doesn't laugh and proceeds to the gate.

Suddenly, she bursts out laughing. God asks, "what are you laughing about?", so she replies, "I just got the first joke!".

[Toon]

So, happy couple, get pregnant after about a year of trying. They're both over the moon, and the Dad promises to himself he'll be the best dad ever.

9 months pass by, and the wife goes into labour, right on time. There's nothing wrong with the delivery, and everything is going swimmingly until the wee lad pops out.

He's just a head.

No arms. No legs. Nothing. Just a head. Apart from that, the bairn's perfectly normal, crying his eyes out, and happily sucking his mam's tit.

So as the couple are trying to come to terms with this, and the doctor's told them that, by some sort of medical miracle, the head seems perfectly healthy, the father decided that he's going to bring him up as well as he can, and give him the best life possible.

The years go by, and the family have their ups and downs, but always the boy exceeds expectations. The biggest surprise comes when he reaches his 18th birthday, alive and (not quite) kicking.

The boy's father sits him down (again, sort of) and says to him, "Son, I know these 18 years haven't been easy for you. We all know you're not like the other boys and girls, but you're our son, and we're proud of you. Now, I'm going to take you down to the pub for your first pint. My father did it for me, and I'm going to do the same."

So, father and son go arm in arm (sorry) down to the local, where the dad props up his son, the head, on the bar, and orders 2 pints of lager. The lad starts sipping away at his pint, and about 3 sips in, suddenly, he goes red and starts coughing.

Worried, the dad reaches over but is stopped when POP the lad sprouts a torso! Everyone in the pub is speechless.

"Keep drinking!!" the dad shouts. He gets in another pint, and as the lad downs that, out pops an arm! On and on it goes, until the boy's got a fully functioning body - arms, legs, hands, feet.

Everyone's patting him on the back, and the lad's deliriously happy, and also rather ****** after about 7 swift pints. Giggling, he wanders out of the bar and into the street, shouting "Look at me!!!! I've got a whole body!!!!"

Mid-sentence though, he strays into the road and straight into the path of a big lorry, which knocks him down, bang, dead.

The pub falls silent.

The father, shocked and distraught, falls to his knees in the door of the pub, staring in disbelief at the tattered remains of his son's new body. No one says a word.

Then the landlord, leaning on the bar, calls over -

"He should've quit while he was ahead."

[Toon]

A man goes into the wood to hunt for bears. He creeps through the undergrowth until he comes to a clearing where he sees a bear. Taking careful aim with his gun he shoots at the bear. There is a tremendous bang, a flash and lots of smoke. When the air clears he walks forward to find his prey—but there is no sign of the bear.

The man looks all around the clearing in increasing bewilderment when suddenly he feels hot breath on his neck and a tap on his shoulder. Turing slowly around he finds himself staring at the midriff of a very ******-off, grizzly bear.

“You ****ing twat!” snarled the bear. “Coming up here with your gun and ruining my afternoon. I’m going to teach you such a lesson; drop your trousers.”
The man has little option but to comply and the bear proceeds to bugger him into insensibility.

As you can imagine the hunter is somewhat traumatised by the experience and staggers back to town in a state of shock. Upon recovering, he becomes consumed with a desire for revenge. He purchases a machine gun and returns to the woods.

After a long search he finds his bear and three others in a clearing beneath the trees. Carefully he mounts the gun on its tripod and loads up a belt of 500 rounds. Taking careful aim on the bears he squeezes the trigger and sprays the clearing for three minutes with high calibre, high velocity bullets. Trees are cut down, branches and leaves whirl through the air in a blizzard of decimated foliage. The noise is deafening. When all the ammunition is spent the man strolls confidently into the clearing to collect his prizes—but finds no bears!

Nervously he searches the clearing from one end to the other, but there is no trace of the bears. Then he feels a familiar touch on his shoulder, hot breath on his neck and the bear is standing behind him with his three friends.
“You stupid little ****,” said the bear. “You are so going to get it. Drop ‘em!”
The huntsman drops his trousers and is mercilessly buggered by each bear in turn.

Returning to town our hero is in a terrible state. The physical and mental scars take a long time to heal, but eventually he recovers and is even more consumed by the desire for revenge. He purchases a multiple rocket launcher and a range of army surplus artillery pieces and returns to the woods.

With his high-powered binoculars he spots the bear under the trees about two miles away. He launches a prolonged and intense attack. The wood is reduced to matchwood. Surely nothing can have survived!

Walking into the smouldering wreckage he looks for the remains of the animals, but again there is nothing. He is somehow not surprised when he feels the familiar tap on the shoulder and the hot breath on his neck. He turns and sees the bear, the three other bears and all their friends and relations forming a queue as far as the eye can see.

The bear slowly shakes his head as the man drops his trousers and says: “Somehow my friends and I don’t think you keep coming up here just for the hunting...”

[Toon]

There were identical twin brothers by the name of Jones. John was married and Joe was single, but owned a small, delapidated boat.

It happened that the same day John's wife died, Joe's boat sank.

A kind old lady met Joe on the street and, mistaking him for his brother John, said, "Oh, Mr. Jones, I'm sorry to hear of your great loss. You must feel terrible."

Joe said, "Well, I'm not a bit sorry. She was rotten from the start. Her bottom was all chewed up and she smelled of old fish from the first time I got on her. She made water faster than anything I've ever seen. She had a bad hole in the front and a big crack in the back. The hole kept getting bigger everytime I used her. It got so I couldn't handle her at all. When anyone else used her, she leaked all over the place.

"What finished her though, was four guys from the other side of town came over looking for a good time. They asked if they could use her. I rented her to them, but warned them that she wasn't too hot. They still insisted that they would like to give her a try. The result was that the crazy fools all tried to get into her at once. Well, the strain was too much for her and she cracked right down the middle."

The old lady fainted.

[Toon]

Greg finally gets remarried and one day not long after the end of
their honeymoon his wife starts complaining about him spending all his
free time in a bar. So one night he takes her along with him.

"What'll you have?" Greg asked.

"Oh, I don't know. The same as you I suppose," his wife replied. So,
Greg ordered a couple of Jack Daniel's and threw his down in one shot.
His wife watched him, then took a sip from her glass and immediately
spit it out.

"Yuck, that's TERRIBLE!" she spluttered. "I don't know how you can
drink this stuff!"

"Well, there you go," cried Greg. "And you think I'm out enjoying
myself every night!"

[Toon]

A guy has spent five years travelling all around the world making a documentary on Native dances. At the end of this time, he has every single native dance of every indigenous culture in the world on film. He winds up in Australia, in Alice Springs, so he pops into a pub for a well earned beer.

He gets talking to one of the local Aborigines and tells him about his project. The Aborigine asks the guy what he thought of the "Butcher Dance."

The guy’s a bit confused and says "Butcher Dance? What’s that?"

"What? You no see Butcher Dance?"

"No, I’ve never heard of it."

"Oh mate. You crazy. How you say you film every native dance if you no see Butcher Dance?"

"UmmSUM. I got a corroborree on film just the other week. Is that what you mean?"

"No, no, not corroborree. Butcher Dance much more important than corroborree."

"Oh, well how can I see this Butcher Dance then?" "Mate, Butcher Dance right out bush. Many days travel to go see Butcher Dance."

"Look, I’ve been everywhere from the forests of the Amazon, to deepest darkest Africa, to the frozen wastes of the Arctic filming these dances. Nothing will prevent me from recording this one last dance."

"OK, mate. You drive north along highway towards Darwin. After you drive 197 miles, you see dirt track veer off to left. Follow dirt track for 126 miles ‘til you see big huge dead gum tree - biggest tree you ever see. Here you gotta leave car, coz much to rough for driving. You strike out due west into setting sun. You walk 3 days ‘til you hit creek. You follow this creek to Northwest. After 2 days you find where creek flows out of rocky mountains. Much too difficult to cross mountains here though. You now head south for half day ‘til you see pass through mountains. Pass very difficult, very dangerous. Take 2, maybe 3 days to get through rocky pass. When through, head north-west for 4 days ‘til reach big huge rock - 20 ft high and shaped like man’s head. >From rock, walk due west for 2 days and you find village. Here you see Butcher Dance."

So the guy grabs his camera crew and equipment and heads out. After a couple of hours he finds the dirt track. The track is in a shocking state and he’s forced to crawl along at a snails pace and so he doesn’t reach the tree until dusk and he’s forced to set up camp for the night.

He sets out bright and early the following morning. His spirits are high and he’s excited about the prospect of capturing on film this mysterious dance which he had never heard mention of before. True to the directions he has been given, he reaches the creek after three days and follows it for another two until they reach the rocky mountains.

The merciless sun is starting to take its toll by this time and his spirits are starting to flag, but wearily he trudges on until he finds the pass through the hills - nothing will prevent him from completing his life’s dream. The mountains prove to be every bit as treacherous as their guide said and at times they almost despair of getting their bulky equipment through. But after three and a half days of back breaking effort they finally force their way clear and continue their long trek.

When they reach the huge rock, four days later, their water is running low and their feet are covered with blisters but they steel themselves and head out on the last leg of their journey. Two days later they virtually stagger into the village where the natives feed them and and give them fresh water and they begin to feel like new men. Once he’s recovered enough, the guy goes before the village chief and tells him that he has come to film their Butcher Dance.

"Oh mate. Very bad you come today. Butcher Dance last night. You too late.

You miss dance." "Well, when do you hold the next dance?" "Not ‘til next year." "Well, I’ve come all this way. Couldn’t you just hold an extra dance for me, tonight?"

"No, no, no! Butcher Dance very holy. Only hold once a year. If hold more, gods get very angry and destroy village! You want see Butcher Dance you come back next year." The guy is devastated, but he has no other option but to head back to civilisation and back home.

The following year, he heads back to Australia and, determined not to miss out again, sets out a week earlier than last time. He is quite willing to spend a week in the village before the dance is performed in order to ensure he is present to witness it.

However, right from the start things go wrong. Heavy rains that year have turned the dirt track to mud and the car gets bogged every few miles, finally forcing them to abandon their vehicles and slog through the mud on foot almost half the distance to the tree. They reach the creek and the mountains without any further hitch, but halfway through the ascent of the mountain they are struck by a fierce storm which rages for several days, during which they are forced to cling forlornly to the mountainside until it subsides. It would be suicide to attempt to scale the treacherous paths in the face of such savage elements.

Then, before they have travelled a mile out from the mountains, one of the crew sprains his ankle badly which slows down the rest of their journey to the rock and then the village enormously. Eventually, having lost all sense of how long they have been travelling, they stagger into the village at about 12:00 noon.

"The Butcher Dance!" gasps the guy. "Please don’t tell me I’m too late!"

The chief recognises him and says "No, white fella. Butcher Dance performed tonight. You come just in time."

Relieved beyond measure, the crew spend the rest of the afternoon setting up their equipment - preparing to capture the night’s ritual on celluloid As dusk falls, the natives start to cover there bodies in white paint and adorn themselves in all manner of bird’s feathers and animal skins. Once darkness has settled fully over the land, the natives form a circle around a huge roaring fire. A deathly hush descends over performers and spectators alike as a wizened old figure with elaborate swirling designs covering his entire body enters the circle and begins to chant. Some sort of witch doctor or medicine man, figures the guy and he whispers to the chief "What’s he doing?"

"Hush" whispers the chief. "You first white man ever to see most sacred of our rituals. Must remain silent. Holy man, he asks that the spirits of the dreamworld watch as we demonstrate our devotion to them through our dance and, if they like our dancing, will they be so gracious as to watch over us and protect us for another year."

The chanting of the Holy man reaches a stunning crescendo before he removes himself from the circle. From somewhere the rhythmic pounding of drums booms out across the land and the natives begin to sway to the stirring rhythm.

The guy is becoming caught up in the fervour of the moment himself. This is it. He now realises beyond all doubt that his wait has not been in vain. He is about to witness the ultimate performance of rhythm and movement ever conceived by mankind.

The chief strides to his position in the circle and, in a big booming voice, starts to sing: "You butch yer left leg in. You butch yer left leg out, in, out, in, out, you shake it all about"

[Toon]

A seventy-five-year old year old man went to his doctor to get a sperm count.
The doctor gave the man a jar and said, "Take this jar home and bring me back a semen sample tomorrow."
The next day the seventy-five-year old man reappeared at the doctor's office and gave him the jar, which was as clean and empty as he had received it on the previous day.

"Where's the sample?" said the Doctor.
"Well, doctor, it's like this," the man explained. "First I tried with my right hand, but that didn't work. Then I tried with my left hand, but still nothing. Then I asked my wife for help. She tried with her right hand, then her left, still no joy. She even tried with her mouth, first with the teeth in, then with her teeth out, and still nothing."

"I see.." said the Doctor dubiously. "Then what did you do?"
"Well, I asked my sixteen year old neice to lend a hand, but she failed too, even when she took it between her legs and squeezed it really hard."
"Her legs!" exclaimed the doctor, appalled.

"So I went next door to Eileen, and she tried too, first with both hands, then both armpits in turn and she even tried rolling it between her knees, but still nothing.
"You asked your neighbour?" cried the shocked doctor.

"The old man replied, "Yes, but no matter what we tried we still couldn't get the bloddy jar open!"

[Toon]

Who was Jesus?

There were three good arguments that Jesus was Black:

1. He called everyone "brother."
2. He liked Gospel.
3. He couldn't get a fair trial.

But there were three equally good arguments that Jesus was Jewish:

1. He went into His Father's business.
2. He lived at home until he was 33.
3. He was sure his Mother was a virgin and his Mother was sure he was God.

But then there were another three equally good arguments that he was Italian:

1. He talked with his hands.
2. He had wine with every meal.
3. He used olive oil a lot.

But then there were three equally good arguments that Jesus was a Californian:

1. He never cut his hair.
2. He walked around barefoot all the time.
3. He started a new religion.

But then there were three equally good arguments that Jesus was Irish:

1. He never got married.
2. He was always telling stories.
3. He loved green pastures.

But the most compelling evidence of all; conclusive proof that Jesus was a woman:

1. He fed a crowd at a moment's notice when there was no food.
2. He kept trying to get a message across to a bunch of men who just didn't get it.
3. And even when He was dead, He had to get up because there was work to do.

[Toon]

A man is lying in bed in the hospital with an oxygen mask over his mouth.

A young nurse appears to sponge his hands and feet. "Nurse," he mumbles
from behind the mask, "Are my testicles black?"

Embarrassed, the young nurse replies, "I don't know, I'm only here to wash
your hands and feet"

He struggles again to ask, "Nurse, are my testicles black?"

Finally, she pulls back the covers, raises his gown, holds his p**is in
one hand and his testicles in he other hand and takes a close look, and
says, "Sir,

there's nothing wrong with them."

Finally, the man pulls off his oxygen mask and replies,
"That was very nice young lady, but are... my... test... results...back?