Any good jokes ... ?
- Thread starter cisamcgu
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machew
Veteran
Now this is a story all about how
The world got flipped-turned upside down
And I'd like to take a minute
Just sit right there
I'll tell you all about the prick with the ridiculous hair
I was a billionaire, born and raised
In the bankruptcy courts I spent most of my days
Chillin' out maxin' relaxin', a fool
And all groping some pussy outside of the school
With a couple of guys who were wearing the hood
I started blaming latins in your neighborhood
I dissed this disabled guy, but nobody cared
They said, “He’s movin on the White House, but we’re still not scared.”
I whistled for a limo and when it came near
The license plate said "Trump" and it had gold in the mirror
If anything I could say this ride was fine
But I thought, "I’ve got billions"
– "I’m elite, it’s all mine."
I pulled up to the White House at 7 or 8
And I yelled at the driver, "Go home, migrant labor."
I looked at my kingdom
With the world in despair
To sit on my throne as the Prick with sh*t hair......
The world got flipped-turned upside down
And I'd like to take a minute
Just sit right there
I'll tell you all about the prick with the ridiculous hair
I was a billionaire, born and raised
In the bankruptcy courts I spent most of my days
Chillin' out maxin' relaxin', a fool
And all groping some pussy outside of the school
With a couple of guys who were wearing the hood
I started blaming latins in your neighborhood
I dissed this disabled guy, but nobody cared
They said, “He’s movin on the White House, but we’re still not scared.”
I whistled for a limo and when it came near
The license plate said "Trump" and it had gold in the mirror
If anything I could say this ride was fine
But I thought, "I’ve got billions"
– "I’m elite, it’s all mine."
I pulled up to the White House at 7 or 8
And I yelled at the driver, "Go home, migrant labor."
I looked at my kingdom
With the world in despair
To sit on my throne as the Prick with sh*t hair......
If you preceeded that with "this joke is absolute c**p I wouldnt have lost 3 minutes of my life
betty swollocks
large member
If you preceeded that with "this joke is absolute c**p I wouldnt have lost 3 minutes of my life
Well, no-one forced you to read it.
You could've scrolled on by
mustang1
Legendary Member
- Location
- London, UK
Good joke here:
https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/w...costing-more-than-some-new-cars.236974/page-6
When off the peg new bikes start costing more than some new cars - !
https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/w...costing-more-than-some-new-cars.236974/page-6
When off the peg new bikes start costing more than some new cars - !
Arjimlad
Tights of Cydonia
- Location
- South Glos
The whole village had been suffering under the hottest, driest weather in living memory.
The old people and young children were lying listlessly under the shade of the leafless, crackling trees. The workers were mopping their brows and downing tools before noon, before collapsing exhausted into their beds for another sleepless siesta of worry about what might become of them.
The crops began to wither. And the small amount of muddy water at the bottom of the village well slowly dried out.
Eventually the village elders trudged the weary miles to the cave of the local witch doctor under the mountain. They pleaded with him to send rain. He promised to do his best.
Another three dry days passed, and the elders again made their journey to the witch doctor's cave. He again promised, but there were mumblings of discontent. They had brought generous and costly offerings throughout the year as usual, yet the witch doctor had not kept his side of the bargain. The children were past crying. Everyone's mouth was as dry as the thatched reeds on the well roof. The head man of the village warned the witch doctor that unless he began to show better results, he could be deposed. The witch doctor knew only too well what that would really mean....
Finally, on the seventh day, the whole tribe shuffled to the mountain. Bearing their scythes, forks and rakes they shouted menacingly and hoarsely for the witch doctor to emerge from his cave. After the village headman went in, the witch doctor agreed to come out and face the crowd.
"I have heard your cries" he announced. "Which one of you has brought any water on his journey?"
Everyone looked around - surely nobody would have been hoarding water for him or herself ?
"Without water there is no water. Give it to me or I cannot help you" the witch doctor proclaimed.
Slowly, a young man approached from the back of the crowd. Under his shawl he had a small plastic bottle with a few inches of dirty water in it. "It was for my mother" he shyly explained. The crowd murmured its discontent.
The witch doctor took the water and put it in a small basin. "There must be more" he shouted. "Who else is keeping the water from the tribe ? Give it all up, or else there will be no water for anyone"..
A young mother came forward. She too had a bottle under her dress. It was for her two small children who had come with her on the march to the cave. She in turn handed over her bottle.
The witch doctor added it to the basin. He then went inside his cave and emerged holding a dirty, smelly t-shirt. Adding some soap flakes to the water he began to wash the t-shirt. He rubbed it and soaked it, wringing it out then wetting it over & over for fifteen minutes until it was almost clean again.
Then, taking his clothes pegs, he carefully hung the t-shirt on the line outside his cave, and went into the cave for a nap.
The crowd waited in expectation.
Sure enough, just ten minutes later, the skies went black and the heavens opened. The t-shirt was soaked again. The crowd whooped with joy.
Which just goes to show that this technique works all over the world.
The old people and young children were lying listlessly under the shade of the leafless, crackling trees. The workers were mopping their brows and downing tools before noon, before collapsing exhausted into their beds for another sleepless siesta of worry about what might become of them.
The crops began to wither. And the small amount of muddy water at the bottom of the village well slowly dried out.
Eventually the village elders trudged the weary miles to the cave of the local witch doctor under the mountain. They pleaded with him to send rain. He promised to do his best.
Another three dry days passed, and the elders again made their journey to the witch doctor's cave. He again promised, but there were mumblings of discontent. They had brought generous and costly offerings throughout the year as usual, yet the witch doctor had not kept his side of the bargain. The children were past crying. Everyone's mouth was as dry as the thatched reeds on the well roof. The head man of the village warned the witch doctor that unless he began to show better results, he could be deposed. The witch doctor knew only too well what that would really mean....
Finally, on the seventh day, the whole tribe shuffled to the mountain. Bearing their scythes, forks and rakes they shouted menacingly and hoarsely for the witch doctor to emerge from his cave. After the village headman went in, the witch doctor agreed to come out and face the crowd.
"I have heard your cries" he announced. "Which one of you has brought any water on his journey?"
Everyone looked around - surely nobody would have been hoarding water for him or herself ?
"Without water there is no water. Give it to me or I cannot help you" the witch doctor proclaimed.
Slowly, a young man approached from the back of the crowd. Under his shawl he had a small plastic bottle with a few inches of dirty water in it. "It was for my mother" he shyly explained. The crowd murmured its discontent.
The witch doctor took the water and put it in a small basin. "There must be more" he shouted. "Who else is keeping the water from the tribe ? Give it all up, or else there will be no water for anyone"..
A young mother came forward. She too had a bottle under her dress. It was for her two small children who had come with her on the march to the cave. She in turn handed over her bottle.
The witch doctor added it to the basin. He then went inside his cave and emerged holding a dirty, smelly t-shirt. Adding some soap flakes to the water he began to wash the t-shirt. He rubbed it and soaked it, wringing it out then wetting it over & over for fifteen minutes until it was almost clean again.
Then, taking his clothes pegs, he carefully hung the t-shirt on the line outside his cave, and went into the cave for a nap.
The crowd waited in expectation.
Sure enough, just ten minutes later, the skies went black and the heavens opened. The t-shirt was soaked again. The crowd whooped with joy.
Which just goes to show that this technique works all over the world.
tribanjules
Guru
- Location
- Birmingham
The Fresh Prince of Bell End?
Bell end is in Rowley Regis, north west of Birmingham
Chris S
Legendary Member
- Location
- Birmingham
There's also one in Worcestershire.
When Manchester City's current ground was being built there was a competition to name the various stands, with a front runner being to commemorate midfielder Colin Bell. Allegedly rival fans promoted the name "The Bell End" but (sadly) this didn't succeed . This also formed the basis of the only knob gag I've heard on Radio 4's Thought for the Day.
Salty seadog
Space Cadet...(3rd Class...)
Until I saw the last bit I thought radio 4's full of nob gags. At least at half six it is.
This wasn't just any knob gag. It was an Ann "frothing loon" Atkins knob gag.
Salty seadog
Space Cadet...(3rd Class...)
Hmmm , I'm an avid listener but not always concentrating. I had to Google her, my word, frothing loon is rather generous of you Tim.
Two stops past Barking.
Salty seadog
Space Cadet...(3rd Class...)
To be fair I didn't think it would last.
Family forum etc
I gave it a like.
I had one similar go once, I didn't really think about the content.
