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Post by medibot on Jul 24, 2006 5:39:34 GMT
Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson go on a camping trip.
After a good dinner and a bottle of wine, they retire for the night, and go to sleep . Some hours later, Holmes wakes up and nudges his faithful friend.
"Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see."
"I see millions and millions of stars, Holmes" replies Watson.
"And what do you deduce from that?"
Watson ponders for a minute.
"Well, astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three. Meteorologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. Theologically, I can see that God is all powerful, and that we are a small and insignificant part of the universe. What does it tell you, Holmes?"
Holmes is silent for a moment.
"Watson, you idiot!" he says. "Someone has stolen our tent!"
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Post by bonehead on Jul 24, 2006 20:46:03 GMT
grrr Seen the same joke (it was voted joke of the year a few years ago by some nondescript nonenties) with the Lone Ranger and Tonto as the characters.
One day Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson were chasing Moriarty. The game was afoot. Eventually they chased him down a London thoroughfare, only for him to have enough a lead for him to have vanished when Holmes and Watson came round the corner. While Watson tried to recover his breath, Holmes quietly pulled out his pipe, filled it, then took a few puffs as he looked up and down the street. Unusually for London at the time, all the houses had different coloured doors. Holmes looked up and down the street, carefully considering each door.
"I have it!", he suddenly shouted, and ran over to a house, pushed his way through the door and made a citizen's arrest on Moriarty just as Watson arrived.
"That's extraordinary, Holmes! How did you work it out?", asked Holmes' faithful sidekick.
Holmes replied, "It was a lemon entry, my dear Watson".
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Post by ambersalamander on Jul 24, 2006 22:52:15 GMT
Oh... histon!
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Post by luvlydory on Aug 14, 2006 23:50:41 GMT
A little boy goes into the lounge one sunday morning while his dad is reading the paper. "Where does poo come from ?" he asks. The father, feeling a little peturbed that his 5 year old is already asking difficult questions, thinks for a moment and says: "Well, you know we just ate breakfast ?" "Yes" answers the boy. "Well the food goes into our tummies and our bodies take out all the goodness, Then whatever is left comes out of our bums when we go to the toilet, and thats where poo comes from". The little boy stares at him in stunned silence for a few seconds then asks, "And Tigger ?" ;D ;D
What has three legs and one arm ?
A rottwieler in a playground ! ;D
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Post by ambersalamander on Aug 16, 2006 23:35:30 GMT
yucky
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Post by J Esaj PRA on Sept 14, 2006 18:55:16 GMT
Are we still doing crap jokes? Good... A farmer is wondering how many sheep he has in his field, so he asks his sheepdog to count them. The dog runs into the field, counts them, and then runs back to his master. "So," says the farmer. "How many sheep were there?" "40," replies the dog. "How can there be 40?" exclaims the farmer. "I only bought 38!" "I know," says the dog. "But I rounded them up." ;D
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Post by medibot on Sept 14, 2006 19:03:02 GMT
haha
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Post by ambersalamander on Sept 15, 2006 9:28:36 GMT
that is the sort of cute, tinpot joke that I really like! *chuckles* ;D
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Post by malxscfc on Jan 17, 2007 17:16:26 GMT
We don't have a "Colemanballs" or 'doubles entendres' thread, so I'm putting this here.
This is cobbled, shamelessly, from the Conf Forum:
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Post by ambersalamander on Jan 17, 2007 17:44:14 GMT
Rather! You can start new threads, you know
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Post by malxscfc on Jan 17, 2007 21:48:36 GMT
Rather! You can start new threads, you know Awww. I'se bashful....
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martello
Steaming Bovril
I used to be indecisive...now I'm not so sure...
Posts: 371
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Post by martello on Jan 19, 2007 17:10:03 GMT
Sal's heard this one (probably along with the rest of the human population) but here goes... The Italian government have given the go-ahead for a clock face to appear on the Leaning Tower of Pisa. A government statement read: "There isn't much point in having the inclination if you haven't got the time..." It's a lovely coat, mine, isn't it...?
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Post by ambersalamander on Jan 19, 2007 17:29:51 GMT
Is it the fluffy one or the anti-hug one?
Back to your dissertation young man! Break over! ;D
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Post by malxscfc on Jan 19, 2007 21:08:05 GMT
Was re-reading our [DaveT's] good old Forum, and came across this. It's NOT a joke. It's a true extract from a day in the media. ----------------------------------------- British Forces Quote of the Day (from 2005): "Umm Qasr is a city similar to Southampton," UK Defence Minister Geoff Hoon said in the Commons yesterday. "He's either never been to Southampton, or he's never been to Umm Qasr" says a British squaddie patrolling Umm Qasr. Another soldier added: "There's no beer, no prostitutes and people are shooting at us. It's more like Portsmouth".
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Post by malxscfc on Jan 19, 2007 21:14:39 GMT
(Probably my favourite joke as it ticks nearly every box on the would-be 'comic checklist'. Sorry if it offends.) -------------------------------------- An out of work pianist with Tourettes Syndrome is strolling around the streets and bars of Soho one unemployed afternoon. Walking down Dean Street he sees a lounge bar with a sign in the window 'Pianist wanted for evening performances'.
'F@cking get in there you c@nt!' he says to himself and goes to the bar.
'Get the f@cking manager of this pigsh!t middle class w@nkhole please, you c@nt', he says to a somewhat startled barman.
The barman however obliges and his manager comes upstairs.
'Can I help you sir?' he says.
'Yes you can you fat piece of sh!t, I saw your poxy advert in the c@nting window and I'm here for an audition.....w@nker.'
The manager is naturally put off by the man's abrasive manner but his dire need for a top class pianist forces him to agree to an audition.
The first tune the Pianist plays is an uplifting jazzy number,not too involving, yet utterly melodic.
At the end the thrilled barman cries, 'Wonderful, wonderful. What was that called?'
'That song, you big nosed tw@t, was called "Excuse me prime minister but I just j!zzed in your daughter's eye, and now the c@nt's blind...'
'Oh' says the manager 'err, can you play me another. Something a little less "lively".
'W@nker..' interjects the pianist before launching into a powerful ballad which leaves the manager in tears.
The manager through his salty teardrops asks him the title.
'That little number was called "Sometimes when you do a bird up the sh!t box you get cr@p on your bell end.'
'I see' says the manager, 'Have you got any songs with less offensive titles?'
'Well there's my jazz number "Do you want me to split your r!ngpiece", or there's the epic "I don't care if you're older my dear, you've still got nice jugs".
'Look' says the manager interrupting, 'I think you're a superb pianist but the title of your songs are a little "racy". I will hire you on the condition that you do not introduce your songs or speak to the audience.'
'F@ck it' says the pianist 'Why not'.
On his first night everything is going superbly the crowd are lapping up his repertoire and his silence is being received as modesty. The only thing putting off the pianist is that in the front row there is a gorgeous blonde in a black evening dress with a split up the side revealing the tops of her stockings, and a plunging neckline which boasts a proud and inviting cleavage.
During the interval the pianist has got such a stonking hard on that he decides to go to the bog and knock one out. Just as he has shot his muck he hears himself being re-introduced over the tannoy, so he rushes back to the stage and finishes his act.
After the show he is at the bar relaxing when the blonde approaches him.
'Hi' she says.
'Hello' he winces, struggling to hold in the expletives.
She leans over and whispers in his ear, 'Do you know your c0ck is hanging out of your trousers, and sp@nk is dribbling onto your shoes?'
'Know it?' says the pianist putting his beer on the bar confidently, 'I f@cking wrote it!!!'
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