Some jokes

13 11 2009

Seeing as this blog is mostly full of doom and gloom I thought I post some of my three favorite jokes from Diseverything (he’ll understand I’m sure, his humour is cleaner than mine).

Tomorrow’s Supermarket

A new supermarket opened near my house. It has an automatic water mister to keep the produce fresh. Just before it goes on, you hear the sound of distant thunder and the smell of fresh rain.

When you pass the milk cases, you hear cows mooing and you experience the scent of fresh mown hay.

In the meat department there is the aroma of charcoal grilled steaks with onions.

When you approach the egg case, you hear hens cluck and cackle, and the air is filled with the pleasing aroma of bacon and eggs frying.

The bread department features the tantalizing smell of fresh baked bread & cookies.

I don’t buy toilet paper there any more.

Rugby Heaven

Two 90 year old men, Mike and Joe, have been friends all of their lives.

When it’s clear that Joe is dying, Mike visits him every day. One day Mike says, ‘Joe, we both loved rugby all our lives, and we played rugby on Saturdays together for so many years. Please do me one favour, when you get to Heaven, somehow you must let me know if there’s rugby there.’

Joe looks up at Mike from his death bed,’ Mike, you’ve been my best friend for many years. If it’s at all possible, I’ll do this favour for you.’

Shortly after that, Joe passes on. At midnight a couple of nights later, Mike is awakened from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to him, ‘Mike–Mike.’

‘Who is it? Asks Mike sitting up suddenly. ‘Who is it?’

‘Mike–it’s me, Joe.’

‘You’re not Joe. Joe just died.’

‘I’m telling you, it’s me, Joe,’ insists the voice.’

‘Joe! Where are you?’

‘In heaven’, replies Joe. ‘I have some really good news and a little bad news.’

‘Tell me the good news first,’ says Mike.

The good news,’ Joe says,’ is that there’s rugby in heaven. Better yet, all of our old friends who died before us are here, too. Better than that, we’re all young again. Better still, it’s always spring time and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play rugby all we want, and we never get tired.’

‘That’s fantastic,’ says Mike. ‘It’s beyond my wildest dreams! So what’s the bad news?’

‘You’re in the team for Tuesday.’

This won’t be everyone’s cup of tea

A dead man is delivered to a local mortuary wearing an expensive, expertly tailored black suit. The female blonde mortician asks the deceased’s wife how she would like the body dressed. She points out that the man does look good in the black suit he is already wearing.

The widow, however, says that she always thought her husband looked his best in blue, and that she wants him in a blue suit. She gives the Blonde mortician a blank check and says, ‘I don’t care what it costs, but please have my husband in a blue suit for the viewing.’

The woman returns the next day for the wake. To her delight, she finds her husband dressed in a gorgeous blue suit with a subtle chalk stripe; the suit fits him perfectly. She says to the mortician, ‘Whatever this cost, I’m very satisfied. You did an excellent job and I’m very grateful. How much did you spend?’

To her astonishment, the blonde mortician presents her with the blank check. ‘There’s no charge,’ says the mortician.

‘No, really, I must compensate you for the cost of that exquisite blue suit!’ she says.

‘Honestly, ma’am,’ the blonde says, ‘it cost nothing. You see, a deceased gentleman of about your husband’s size was brought in shortly after you left yesterday, and he was wearing that attractive blue suit. I asked his wife if she minded him going to his grave wearing a black suit instead, and she said it made no difference as long as he looked nice. So I just switched the heads.’

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One response

5 05 2010
Soni Singh

Thats ultimate . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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