A bit of humour

A man walks into a pub and says, "Can I have an entendre, please?"

"Would that be a single or a double?"

"Oh, make it a double."

"So, yours is a large one, then sir!"
 
An American visiting in England entered the hotel and asked where the elevator was. The doorman looked a bit confused but smiled when he realized what the man wanted. "You must mean the lift," he said.

"No," the American responded. "If I ask for the elevator I mean the elevator."

"Well," the portiere answered, "over here we call them lifts".

"Now you listen", the American said rather irritated, "someone in America invented the elevator."

"Oh, right you are sir," the portiere said in a polite tone, "but someone here in England invented the language."
 
[TABLE="class: yiv9287201844MsoNormalTable, width: 531"]
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[TD] AUSTRALIAN LETTER - I think the sender might have been upset!

This is an actual letter sent to the DFAT (Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade) Immigration Minister. The Government tried desperately to censure the author, but got nowhere because every legal person who read it couldn’t stop laughing !

Dear Mr Minister,

I'm in the process of renewing my passport, and still cannot believe this.

How is it that K-Mart has my address and telephone number, and knows that I bought a television set and golf clubs and condoms from them back in 1997, and yet the Federal Government is still asking me where I was born
and on what date ?

For Christ sakes, do you guys do this by hand ?

My birth date you have in my Medicare information, and it is on all the income tax forms I've filed for the past 40 years.

It is also on my driver's licence, on the last eight passports I've ever had, on all those stupid customs declaration forms I've had to fill out before being allowed off planes
over the past 30 years.

It's also on all those insufferable census forms that I've filled out every 5 years since 1966.

Also... would somebody please take note, once and for all, that my mother's name is Audrey, my father's name is Jack, and I'd be absolutely bloody astounded if that ever
changed between now and when I drop dead !!!

****! What do you people do with all this information we keep having to provide?

I apologize, Mr Minister. But I'm really pissed off this morning.

Between you and me, I've had enough of all this bull****!

You send the application to my house, then you ask me for my bloody address!

What the hell is going on with your mob? Have you got a gang of mindless Neanderthal coughholes working there!

And another thing, look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? I can't even grow a beard for God's sakes. I just want to go to New Zealand and see my new granddaughter. (Yes, my son interbred with a Kiwi girl). And would someone please tell me, why would you give a **** whether or not I plan on visiting a farm in the next 15 days? In the unlikely event I ever got the urge to do something weird to a sheep or a horse, believe you me, I'd sure as hell not want to tell anyone!

Well, I have to go now, 'cause I have to go to the other side of Sydney , and get another bloody copy of my birth certificate - and to part with another $80 for the privilege of accessing MY OWN INFORMATION!

Would it be so complicated to have all the services in the same spot, to assist in the issuance of a new passport on the same day?

Nooooo…that'd be too bloody easy and makes far too much sense.

You would much prefer to have us running all over the bloody place like chickens with our heads cut off, and then having to find some 'high-society' wanker to confirm that it's really me in the goddam_ photo! You know the photo... the one where we're not allowed to smile?...you bloody morons.

Signed - An Irate Australian Citizen.

P.S. Remember what I said above about the picture, and getting someone in 'high-society' to confirm that it's me?

Well, my family has been in this country since before 1820! In 1856, one of my forefathers took up arms with Peter Lalor. (You do remember the Eureka Stockade!)

I have also served in both the CMF and regular Army for something over 30 years (I went to Vietnam in 1967), and still have high security clearances. I'm also a personal friend of the president of the RSL....Lt General Peter Cosgrove sends me a Christmas card each year.

However, your rules require that I have to get someone "important" to verify who I am; you know...someone like my doctor - WHO WAS BORN AND RAISED IN BLOODY PAKISTAN!...a country where they either assassinate or hang their ex-Prime Ministers - and are suspended from
the Commonwealth and United Nations for not having the "right sort of government"..

You are all pen-pushing paper-shuffling bloody idiots!


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I saw a bloke with a bumper sticker on his car saying

"I am a VET therefore I drive like an Animal".

Suddenly I realised how many gynaecologists there are on the roads.
 
Shame about the errors. 30 years in the cmf and army. 1967 in Vietnam a year or two training, so written in the early to mid 1990s. Before anyone knew Peter Cosgrove and most likely before he was a lt general.

Besides perhaps he wouldn't have these problems if he and his mates supported the Australia card.
drron said:
[TABLE="class: yiv9287201844MsoNormalTable, width: 531"]
[TR]
[TD] AUSTRALIAN LETTER - I think the sender might have been upset!

This is an actual letter sent to the DFAT (Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade) Immigration Minister. The Government tried desperately to censure the author, but got nowhere because every legal person who read it couldn’t stop laughing !

Dear Mr Minister,

I'm in the process of renewing my passport, and still cannot believe this.

How is it that K-Mart has my address and telephone number, and knows that I bought a television set and golf clubs and condoms from them back in 1997, and yet the Federal Government is still asking me where I was born
and on what date ?

For Christ sakes, do you guys do this by hand ?

My birth date you have in my Medicare information, and it is on all the income tax forms I've filed for the past 40 years.

It is also on my driver's licence, on the last eight passports I've ever had, on all those stupid customs declaration forms I've had to fill out before being allowed off planes
over the past 30 years.

It's also on all those insufferable census forms that I've filled out every 5 years since 1966.

Also... would somebody please take note, once and for all, that my mother's name is Audrey, my father's name is Jack, and I'd be absolutely bloody astounded if that ever
changed between now and when I drop dead !!!

****! What do you people do with all this information we keep having to provide?

I apologize, Mr Minister. But I'm really pissed off this morning.

Between you and me, I've had enough of all this bull****!

You send the application to my house, then you ask me for my bloody address!

What the hell is going on with your mob? Have you got a gang of mindless Neanderthal coughholes working there!

And another thing, look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? I can't even grow a beard for God's sakes. I just want to go to New Zealand and see my new granddaughter. (Yes, my son interbred with a Kiwi girl). And would someone please tell me, why would you give a **** whether or not I plan on visiting a farm in the next 15 days? In the unlikely event I ever got the urge to do something weird to a sheep or a horse, believe you me, I'd sure as hell not want to tell anyone!

Well, I have to go now, 'cause I have to go to the other side of Sydney , and get another bloody copy of my birth certificate - and to part with another $80 for the privilege of accessing MY OWN INFORMATION!

Would it be so complicated to have all the services in the same spot, to assist in the issuance of a new passport on the same day?

Nooooo…that'd be too bloody easy and makes far too much sense.

You would much prefer to have us running all over the bloody place like chickens with our heads cut off, and then having to find some 'high-society' wanker to confirm that it's really me in the goddam_ photo! You know the photo... the one where we're not allowed to smile?...you bloody morons.

Signed - An Irate Australian Citizen.

P.S. Remember what I said above about the picture, and getting someone in 'high-society' to confirm that it's me?

Well, my family has been in this country since before 1820! In 1856, one of my forefathers took up arms with Peter Lalor. (You do remember the Eureka Stockade!)

I have also served in both the CMF and regular Army for something over 30 years (I went to Vietnam in 1967), and still have high security clearances. I'm also a personal friend of the president of the RSL....Lt General Peter Cosgrove sends me a Christmas card each year.

However, your rules require that I have to get someone "important" to verify who I am; you know...someone like my doctor - WHO WAS BORN AND RAISED IN BLOODY PAKISTAN!...a country where they either assassinate or hang their ex-Prime Ministers - and are suspended from
the Commonwealth and United Nations for not having the "right sort of government"..

You are all pen-pushing paper-shuffling bloody idiots!


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Click to expand...
 
medhead said:
Shame about the errors. 30 years in the cmf and army. 1967 in Vietnam a year or two training, so written in the early to mid 1990s. Before anyone knew Peter Cosgrove and most likely before he was a lt general.

Besides perhaps he wouldn't have these problems if he and his mates supported the Australia card.
Click to expand...

Not only that, but I've seen the same story told by someone in the UK and also the USA, so not a real letter.

The internet is a dangerous place!!!
 
A man with a bald head and a wooden leg is invited to a Christmas fancy dress party. He doesn't know what to wear to hide his head and his wooden leg, so he writes to a fancy dress company to explain his problem.

A few days later he receives a parcel with a note:

Dear Sir, Please find enclosed a Pirate's outfit. The spotted handkerchief will cover your bald head and with your wooden leg you will be just right as a Pirate.

The man is offended that the outfit emphasizes his disability, so he writes a letter of complaint. A week passes and he receives another parcel and note:

Dear Sir, Sorry about the previous parcel. Please find enclosed a monk's habit. The long robe will cover your wooden leg and with your bald head you will really look the part.

The man is really incandescent with rage now, because the company has gone from emphasizing his wooden leg to drawing attention to his bald head.

So he writes a really strong letter of complaint.. A few days later he gets a very small parcel from the company with the accompanying letter:

Dear Sir, Please find enclosed a tin of Golden Syrup. We suggest you pour the tin of Golden Syrup over your bald head, let it harden, then stick your wooden leg up your back side and go as a toffee apple.
 
There was a couple who were big over-spenders. They always dreamed to spend holidays in Hawaii, but never able to save any money to do so. One day they came with an idea -- each time they have sex, they will put $20.00 bill into piggy bank. They bought the piggy, and followed that procedure for about a year.

After that time, they decided that there is enough money for their dream vacation and broke the piggy bank.


The husband looked at their savings and said: "Isn't it strange. Each time we had sex, I put $20.00 into piggy. But here we have many $50.00 and a few $100.00 bills."

The wife replied: "Do you think that everybody is as stingy as you are?"
 
Nescafe marketing manager manages to arrange a meeting with the Pope at the Vatican.

After receiving the Papal blessing, the Nescafe official whispers 'Your Eminence, we have an offer for you. Nescafe is prepared to donate $100 million to the church if you change the Lord's Prayer from 'give us this day our daily bread' to 'give us this day our daily coffee.'

The Pope responds, 'That is impossible. The prayer is the word of the Lord. It must not be changed.'

'Well,' said the Nescafe man, 'we anticipated your reluctance. For this reason we will increase our offer to $300 million.'

'My son, it is impossible. For the prayer is the word of the Lord and it must not be changed.'

The Nescafe guy says, 'Your Holiness, we at Nescafe respect your adherence to the faith, but we do have one final offer.. We will donate $500 million - that's half a billion dollars - to the great Catholic Church if you would only change the Lord's Prayer from 'give us this day our daily bread' to 'give us this day our daily coffee.' Please consider it.' And he leaves.

The next day the Pope convenes the College of Cardinals.

'There is some good news,' he announces, 'and some bad news. The good news is that the Church will come into $500 million.'

'And the bad news your Holiness?' asks a Cardinal.

'We're losing the Baker's Delight account.
 
There once was a happy little fly buzzing around a barn, when she came upon a large pile of fresh cow manure. Since it had been hours since her last meal and she was feeling hunger pangs, she flew down to the irresistible delicacy and began to munch out.
She ate ..... and ate ... and then ... she ate some more!
Finally, she decided she'd had plenty. She washed her face with her tiny front legs, belched a few times, then attempted to fly away.
But alas ...she had pigged out far too much and could not get off the ground.
She looked around wondering what to do about this unpleasant situation when she spotted a pitchfork leaning upright against the barn wall.
She'd found a solution! She realized that if she could just become airborne she'd be able to fly again.

So, she painstakingly, climbed to the top of the handle. Once there, she took a deep breath, spread her tiny fly wings, and leaped confidently into the air. She dropped like a rock and splattered all over the floor...

Dead fly...

The moral of this sad story?

Never fly off the handle when you know you're full of cough!
 

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