...walk into a bar.
I had a dream last night that I didn't blog today and someone sent me an angry txt message saying, basically, "How could you write that excellent post yesterday then not follow up with another?" Oh, my modest subconscious! I thought they were someone else and replied with a sexual innuendo and basically it all went downhill from there. So now I am blogging to pre-empt that dream coming true! Also in the dream, which was a musical, I was drunk & had a lesbian fling then ended up marrying her on a roof during a dance number. I am not kidding. Perhaps I need therapy.
Apart from that I don't really have any news except that our dog stinks. (I realise this isn't something that is normally considered 'news' but I didn't have anything else.) I took him for a walk a couple of days ago and he did four things he has never done before:
- attempted to hump a lady dog (apparently she was the canine equivalent of Miss Universe or something). The spirit was willing, but he had no balls. Other dog owner was not impressed. I explained that as he had no balls she had nothing to worry about, but she was still not impressed. Ah, my dog. Charlie, the Impotent Rapist. Sounds like the title of a children's book.
- displayed a previously hidden environmentalist streak by urinating copiously on a bulldozer
- did an Inappropriate Poo. I have to confess here that I am a Bad Dog Owner in that I always forget to take 'poo bags' with me when I walk the dog. 'Forget' in that as I leave the house I think half-heartedly, "Oh, I should really take some poo bags," and then immediately justify my unwillingness to pick up poo by thinking "...but I've already locked the house. And anyway he probably won't do one." (He always does one.) Usually he does them in a bush at the park, while I turn my back and whistle nonchalantly. If someone sees me and glares, I shrug and adopt an expression which is meant to convey that this is certainly not my dog and in fact my dog doesn't even do poos. Anyway, on our most recent walk he decided to do a you-know-what (poo) right by the side of someone's driveway (whoops) and I didn't have any poo bags because I had forgotten them (whoops). Was standing there looking innocent when a car turned into the street and drove towards us. I began to whistle nonchalantly. Turns out that the only thing worse than someone seeing you allow your dog to do an unapologetically large and steaming turd on the sidewalk is when he is doing it right by their driveway. Jesus. As the car began to turn in and the driver realised in horror (and anger) that I had no intention of picking up the poo, I dithered for a moment then did the honorable thing and ran. Charlie, who was still poopin', ran too. Leaving a little trail of poo behind him. Jesus.
I am really sorry, people whose driveway my dog pooped in. I have got to start carrying poo bags. (But I probably won't.)
- Jumped right in the river at the park, in pursuit of ducks. Normally when I let him off the lead he runs around a bit, dabbles his paws in the river, and has a little drink. Fine? Fine. This time he disappeared down the bank as per usual, but when I wandered casually over I saw the entire bloody dog was in the river, having a little swim and grinning cheerfully up at me. Turns out the river is really stinky and now so is he. Kate and I took him to the beach in an effort to make him less stinky, but now he is just stinky and gritty. SIGH. I have confined him to the back yard.
See? I said I had no news. I do, however, have a joke:
A boss wondered why one of his most valued employees wasn't at work one day, and hadn't phoned in sick. Having an urgent problem with one of the main computers, he dialled the employee's cell phone and was greeted with a child's whisper.
"Hello."
"Is your daddy home?" the boss asked.
"Yes," whispered the small voice.
"May I talk with him?"
The child whispered, "No."
Surprised and wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, "Is your Mommy there?"
"Yes," whispered the small voice.
"May I talk with her?"
Again the small voice whispered, "No."
Hoping there was somebody with whom he could leave a message, the boss asked, "Is anybody else home?"
"Yes," whispered the child, "a policeman."
Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee's home, the boss asked, "May I speak with the policeman?"
"No. He's busy," whispered the child.
"Busy doing what?"
"Talking to Daddy and Mommy and the Fireman," the whisper answered.
Growing more worried as he heard what sounded like a helicopter through the earpiece on the phone, the boss asked, "What is that noise?"
"A helicopter," answered the whispering voice.
"What is going on there?" demanded the boss, now truly apprehensive.
Again whispering, the child answered, "The search team just landed the helicopter."
Alarmed, concerned and a little frustrated the boss asked, "What are they searching for?"
Still whispering, the young voice replied with a muffled giggle.
"Me."
Have a nice day, everybody!
Showing posts with label joke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label joke. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Hot Date
I am taking myself out on a date tonight. I was sitting at work, feeling my brain shrivel up and die bit of grey matter by bit of grey matter, and I thought "I need to do something tonight that is not sitting in front of coronation street eating chocolate."
So I asked me if I would like to go out, and I said yes! I was excited because I thought I might've turned me down, but I seemed quite keen so it was all good. So I'm getting dressed up, and taking me out to a nice bar, and I'm going to buy me a nice glass of red...and, you never know, maybe I'll get lucky and go home with me! Hmm.
Today at work I hit myself in the face with a stick.
I also, now that you've stopped laughing, made friends with Daniel, the enfant terrible of the winery. Example: when he doesn't want to work, he locks himself in the store room and refuses to come out. However, he has become friends with me now. I consider this useful.
Turns out Dad's girlfriend thinks I am 'sweet.' She is obviously deluded- being madly in love with father actually a good indicator of this, now that I think about it- as I am many things, but 'sweet' not one of them.
Oh! Keith wanted to be mentioned in this blog, as apparently he considers himself important enough. (Hey, if Vic features...) Keith and I are like the English Monarchy in that we have a long, confusing and somewhat sordid history and no-one knows exactly what's going to happen to it next (although every man and his dog have a prediction to make).
Keith is also like the English Monarchy in that he is somewhat inbred. Would anyone else like to be featured in my blog?
And now, for the Joke of the Day, today inspired by Andrea (do thank her; the joke was going to be 'Your Mother'):
A woman was caught in a terrorist attack, while she was carrying triplets. Despite the fact that none of the bullets could be recovered, all of the fetuses survived and were born healthy babies- two girls and a boy. One day fourteen years later, one of the two girls came to her mother in tears. "Mum," she said, "I've got a problem." "What's wrong, darling?" the mother asked. "Well, I was going to the toilet...and a bullet came out!" The mother reassured the frightened girl, telling her the story of the terrorist attack. Some weeks later, the second girl came to her mother, again in tears, saying, "Mum...I have a problem." "Honey, what's wrong?" asked the mother. As before, the girl replied, "I was going to the toilet...and a bullet fell out!" Again, the mother told her daughter the story about the terrorist attack and told her not to worry. A week after that, the son came up to the mother, looking very uncomfortable. "Ah, Mum," he said, "I kind of have a problem." "Oh no, don't tell me," she said, "you were going to the toilet and a bullet came out?"
"No..I was jacking off, and I shot the cat."
So I asked me if I would like to go out, and I said yes! I was excited because I thought I might've turned me down, but I seemed quite keen so it was all good. So I'm getting dressed up, and taking me out to a nice bar, and I'm going to buy me a nice glass of red...and, you never know, maybe I'll get lucky and go home with me! Hmm.
Today at work I hit myself in the face with a stick.
I also, now that you've stopped laughing, made friends with Daniel, the enfant terrible of the winery. Example: when he doesn't want to work, he locks himself in the store room and refuses to come out. However, he has become friends with me now. I consider this useful.
Turns out Dad's girlfriend thinks I am 'sweet.' She is obviously deluded- being madly in love with father actually a good indicator of this, now that I think about it- as I am many things, but 'sweet' not one of them.
Oh! Keith wanted to be mentioned in this blog, as apparently he considers himself important enough. (Hey, if Vic features...) Keith and I are like the English Monarchy in that we have a long, confusing and somewhat sordid history and no-one knows exactly what's going to happen to it next (although every man and his dog have a prediction to make).
Keith is also like the English Monarchy in that he is somewhat inbred. Would anyone else like to be featured in my blog?
And now, for the Joke of the Day, today inspired by Andrea (do thank her; the joke was going to be 'Your Mother'):
A woman was caught in a terrorist attack, while she was carrying triplets. Despite the fact that none of the bullets could be recovered, all of the fetuses survived and were born healthy babies- two girls and a boy. One day fourteen years later, one of the two girls came to her mother in tears. "Mum," she said, "I've got a problem." "What's wrong, darling?" the mother asked. "Well, I was going to the toilet...and a bullet came out!" The mother reassured the frightened girl, telling her the story of the terrorist attack. Some weeks later, the second girl came to her mother, again in tears, saying, "Mum...I have a problem." "Honey, what's wrong?" asked the mother. As before, the girl replied, "I was going to the toilet...and a bullet fell out!" Again, the mother told her daughter the story about the terrorist attack and told her not to worry. A week after that, the son came up to the mother, looking very uncomfortable. "Ah, Mum," he said, "I kind of have a problem." "Oh no, don't tell me," she said, "you were going to the toilet and a bullet came out?"
"No..I was jacking off, and I shot the cat."
Monday, August 06, 2007
Joke of the Day
A man walks into a bar to hear the bartender saying to a pretty girl, "Tickle your arse with a feather."
She turns around and says, "What was that?"
The bartender grins innocently and replies, "Particularly nasty weather, I said, love."
At this a drunk gets up off his barstool, stumbles over to the woman and slurs, "Stick a feather up your arse."
"What?!"
"I said it's fucking pissing down out there."
And that is my joke of the day. I promise there won't be one every day, just days like this (nights like this?) when it's cold and boring (stick a feather up your arse, it is, outside) and I'm in Nelson which is possibly the most boring place to be on a Sunday, because if the town were any bigger you could go and DO something, and if it were any smaller you would've killed yourself or moved away years ago.
I might try to do some work. I should drink less coffee, so I can sleep earlier...but then I am very productive in the middle of the night, because I'm awake and there's really bugger all else to do but work. Sigh.
She turns around and says, "What was that?"
The bartender grins innocently and replies, "Particularly nasty weather, I said, love."
At this a drunk gets up off his barstool, stumbles over to the woman and slurs, "Stick a feather up your arse."
"What?!"
"I said it's fucking pissing down out there."
And that is my joke of the day. I promise there won't be one every day, just days like this (nights like this?) when it's cold and boring (stick a feather up your arse, it is, outside) and I'm in Nelson which is possibly the most boring place to be on a Sunday, because if the town were any bigger you could go and DO something, and if it were any smaller you would've killed yourself or moved away years ago.
I might try to do some work. I should drink less coffee, so I can sleep earlier...but then I am very productive in the middle of the night, because I'm awake and there's really bugger all else to do but work. Sigh.
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