A bit of humour

[Major]

A young Scottish lad and lass were sitting on a low stone wall, holding hands, gazing out over the loch.

For several minutes they sat silently.
Then finally the girl looked at the boy and said,
"A penny for your thoughts, Angus."

"Well, uh, I was thinkin'... perhaps it's aboot time for a wee kiss."

The girl blushed, then leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Then he blushed. The two turned once again to gaze out over the loch.
Minutes passed and the girl spoke again.
"Another penny for your thoughts, Angus."

"Well, uh, I was thinkin' perhaps it's noo aboot time for a wee cuddle."
The girl blushed, then leaned over and cuddled him for a few seconds. Then he blushed.

And the two turned once again to gaze out over the loch.
After a while, she again said, "Another penny for your thoughts, Angus."

"Well, uh, I was thinkin' perhaps it's aboot time you let me put my hand on your leg."
The girl blushed, then took his hand and put it on her knee. Then he blushed.

Then the two turned once again to gaze out over the loch before the girl spoke again.
"Another penny for your thoughts, Angus."

The young man glanced down with a furled brow.
"Well, noo," he said, 'my thoughts are a wee bit more serious this time.'
"Really?" said the lass in a whisper, filled with anticipation.
"Aye," said the lad, nodding.
The girl looked away in shyness, began to blush, and bit her lip in anticipation of the ultimate request.

Then he said, "Dae ye nae think it's aboot time ye paid me the first three pennies?"

 

[Hvr]

There was a radio call in competition where the question was asked, what is your pet name for your wife.

The winner was a man who called his wife Harvey Norman.



When asked why the brave man said it was because she hadn't paid any interest in 36 months.

 

[Major]

FEAR AND LOATHING ON THE WAY TO THE FORUM.

A chill wind blew down from the Brindabellum Mountains and over Capittaline
Hill as footsteps echoed across the Forum in the pale light of the
long-awaited dawn. Wrapping her cloak tightly around her, Julia Caesar
shivered. How had it all gone so horribly wrong?

She gazed up at the statue of her illustrious predecessor, Bennelongus
Imperium. Relaxum and Comfortabilis was his motto. How ordinary these words
now looked, etched in stone and covered in bird ****. Yet, she now realized,
they possibly represented the greatest triumph any leader could achieve.

Passing the vomitorium, she could hear squeals of delight and faint laughter
intermingled with sounds of dry-retching and puking. No doubt, she thought
to herself, Slipperius was down there in his black toga regurgitating his
cab charges.

Where on earth, she wondered, did he go on all those long journeys?
And what debauchery went on in the back of those chariots that had so
depleted the imperial coffers?

Swiftly walking past the Unionatis Hospitalis, she shuddered at the thought
of her favoured son, the handsome Dobellius, taking tithes off the lowly
slaves who toiled to clean soiled bed-sheets while he cavorted in the Via
Bordello.

She turned abruptly, certain she could hear someone following her.
Treachery and subterfuge swirled around her, clothed in darkness. Her
enemies were everywhere, plotting, waiting for the right moment to strike.

But she knew she could defeat them all, she was certain of that. "
They may have knives", she thought to herself, "but they are as nothing
compared to my formidable political skills, my acute sense of timing, my
renowned judgment, my phenomenal ability to communicate with the masses and
my mesmerising vocal skills. Her enemies didn't stand a chance!"

But still, that nagging feeling kept creeping back: where on earth was
Kevino Septimus?

One by one she mentally ticked off her foes. There was Minimus Shortus, the
diminutive former slavemaster who had recently taken to mocking her in the
Forum. "Whatever the Empress says, I support" he had proclaimed to roars of
laughter from the crowds, "even though I have no idea what it is she said."

More cunning was Praaetor Smith, with his cash-starved armies outside the
city walls in the Fields of Duntroon. For 18 months he had patiently waited
for the moment to strike, like an adder in the grass.

And what of Senator Carcero, the great orator with the booming voice, who as
tribune of Nova South Walesium had razed it to the ground with his Punic
land tax while entertaining the proletariat with extravagant Games in his
specially built colosseum?

How smart had it been to let him back into the Senate? Had his ambitions
been sated? Still on travels to distant lands, imposing Roman law on the
Fijians, she was relieved she had sent him far away.

She turned to look at the foundation stones of the Basilica Juia, where her
statue was being built, a magnificent testimony to her legacy, emblazed with
her own epithet: Nos sunt nobis: we are us. It would be the largest statue
in Rome. After all, wasn't her most towering achievement, the introduction
of the Carbonara Tax, a 23 dinar levy on all pasta production, a triumphant
political victory that future generations would honour her for?

Most dangerous of all, she knew, were those closest to her. Such as Quastor
Waynium Swannus, the man she trusted more than any other with the regulation
of marketplaces. His day of glory was fast approaching, when he would trick
the plebeians by showering them with surplus bread and treasure. She felt an
icy chill run down her spine. Somehow, she couldn't help thinking, whenever
a leader was overthrown it was he who was always left standing.

Or Gregorius Combatus? A soldier of fortune who'd made his name all those
years ago, fighting injustice among the patrician galley-owners.
He was now chief priest of the goddess Gaia, a powerful position from whence
he could scrutinise the entrails. What had they really told him about her
future? Even old Creaanus, could she really trust him?

She stopped to listen, certain someone was close by. She froze as she heard
the serpentine hiss of steel being drawn from leather."Julia!" a voice
whispered behind her..She spun around and couldn't believe her eye."You?"
she said. "What on earth are you....?"

But already it was too late.

Rowan Dean, who wrote this brilliant piece, is an Australian Financial
Review columnist



--

 

[codash1099]

FEAR AND LOATHING ON THE WAY TO THE FORUM.

A chill wind blew down from the Brindabellum Mountains and over Capittaline
Hill as footsteps echoed across the Forum in the pale light of the
long-awaited dawn. Wrapping her cloak tightly around her, Julia Caesar
shivered. How had it all gone so horribly wrong?

She gazed up at the statue of her illustrious predecessor, Bennelongus
Imperium. Relaxum and Comfortabilis was his motto. How ordinary these words
now looked, etched in stone and covered in bird ****. Yet, she now realized,
they possibly represented the greatest triumph any leader could achieve.

Passing the vomitorium, she could hear squeals of delight and faint laughter
intermingled with sounds of dry-retching and puking. No doubt, she thought
to herself, Slipperius was down there in his black toga regurgitating his
cab charges.

Where on earth, she wondered, did he go on all those long journeys?
And what debauchery went on in the back of those chariots that had so
depleted the imperial coffers?

Swiftly walking past the Unionatis Hospitalis, she shuddered at the thought
of her favoured son, the handsome Dobellius, taking tithes off the lowly
slaves who toiled to clean soiled bed-sheets while he cavorted in the Via
Bordello.

She turned abruptly, certain she could hear someone following her.
Treachery and subterfuge swirled around her, clothed in darkness. Her
enemies were everywhere, plotting, waiting for the right moment to strike.

But she knew she could defeat them all, she was certain of that. "
They may have knives", she thought to herself, "but they are as nothing
compared to my formidable political skills, my acute sense of timing, my
renowned judgment, my phenomenal ability to communicate with the masses and
my mesmerising vocal skills. Her enemies didn't stand a chance!"

But still, that nagging feeling kept creeping back: where on earth was
Kevino Septimus?

One by one she mentally ticked off her foes. There was Minimus Shortus, the
diminutive former slavemaster who had recently taken to mocking her in the
Forum. "Whatever the Empress says, I support" he had proclaimed to roars of
laughter from the crowds, "even though I have no idea what it is she said."

More cunning was Praaetor Smith, with his cash-starved armies outside the
city walls in the Fields of Duntroon. For 18 months he had patiently waited
for the moment to strike, like an adder in the grass.

And what of Senator Carcero, the great orator with the booming voice, who as
tribune of Nova South Walesium had razed it to the ground with his Punic
land tax while entertaining the proletariat with extravagant Games in his
specially built colosseum?

How smart had it been to let him back into the Senate? Had his ambitions
been sated? Still on travels to distant lands, imposing Roman law on the
Fijians, she was relieved she had sent him far away.

She turned to look at the foundation stones of the Basilica Juia, where her
statue was being built, a magnificent testimony to her legacy, emblazed with
her own epithet: Nos sunt nobis: we are us. It would be the largest statue
in Rome. After all, wasn't her most towering achievement, the introduction
of the Carbonara Tax, a 23 dinar levy on all pasta production, a triumphant
political victory that future generations would honour her for?

Most dangerous of all, she knew, were those closest to her. Such as Quastor
Waynium Swannus, the man she trusted more than any other with the regulation
of marketplaces. His day of glory was fast approaching, when he would trick
the plebeians by showering them with surplus bread and treasure. She felt an
icy chill run down her spine. Somehow, she couldn't help thinking, whenever
a leader was overthrown it was he who was always left standing.

Or Gregorius Combatus? A soldier of fortune who'd made his name all those
years ago, fighting injustice among the patrician galley-owners.
He was now chief priest of the goddess Gaia, a powerful position from whence
he could scrutinise the entrails. What had they really told him about her
future? Even old Creaanus, could she really trust him?

She stopped to listen, certain someone was close by. She froze as she heard
the serpentine hiss of steel being drawn from leather."Julia!" a voice
whispered behind her..She spun around and couldn't believe her eye."You?"
she said. "What on earth are you....?"

But already it was too late.

Rowan Dean, who wrote this brilliant piece, is an Australian Financial
Review columnist



--

Clever!!!!!!

 

[Paddy55]

An elderly couple sat reminiscing about their life together:


As she sat by him, he whispered, eyes full of tears, "You know what?


You have been with me all through the bad times.


When I got fired, you were there to support me.


When my business failed, you were there.


When I got shot, you were by my side.


When we lost the house, you stayed right here.


When my health started failing, you were still by my side...
You know what Martha?"




"What dear?" she gently asked, smiling as her heart began to fill with warmth.




"I'm beginning to think you're bad luck."

 

[Major]

Angela Merkel arrives at Passport Control in Paris Orly airport. "Nationality?" asks the immigration officer.
"German," she replies.

"Occupation?"
"No, I`m just here for a few days."

 

[QF WP]

I don't know why more economists can't explain financial matters as clearly as this.

Credit Suisse quote: "The market is currently like a strapless bra; half of us are wondering what is holding it up and the other half are waiting for it to drop so they can grab the opportunity with both hands".

 

[codash1099]

WHAT IS 2 * 2

Several scientists were all posed the following question: "What is 2 * 2 ?"

The engineer whips out his slide rule (so it's old) and shuffles it back and forth, and finally announces "3.99".

The physicist consults his technical references, sets up the problem on his computer, and announces "it lies between 3.98 and 4.02".

The mathematician cogitates for a while, then announces: "I don't know what the answer is, but I can tell you, an answer exists!".

Philosopher smiles: "But what do you mean by 2 * 2 ?"

Logician replies: "Please define 2 * 2 more precisely."

The sociologist: "I don't know, but is was nice talking about it".

Behavioral Ecologist: "A polygamous mating system".

Medical Student : "4"

All others looking astonished : "How did you know?"

Medical Student : "I memorized it."

 

[anat0l]

I don't know why more economists can't explain financial matters as clearly as this.

Credit Suisse quote: "The market is currently like a strapless bra; half of us are wondering what is holding it up and the other half are waiting for it to drop so they can grab the opportunity with both hands".

This quote also neatly demonstrates another trait of economists around the world: too many of them are men.... and perhaps I'd better not mention the notes about prostitution...

 

[anat0l]

WHAT IS 2 * 2

...

The arts student: "Would you like fries with that?"

 

[QF WP]

This says it all:

 

[markh]

Hopefully this has not been posted before:

[h=6]Two women were playing golf.
One teed off and watched in horror as her ball headed directly toward
a foursome of men playing the next hole.
The ball hit one of the men. He immediately clasped his hands together
at his groin, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in
agony. The woman rushed down to the man, and immediately began to
apologize.
'Please allow me to help. I'm a Physical therapist and I know I could
relieve your pain if you'd allow me, she told him.
'Oh, no, I'll be all right. I’ll be fine in a few minutes,' the man
replied. He was in obvious agony, lying in the foetal position, still
clasping his hands there at his groin. At her persistence, however, he
finally allowed her to help. She gently took his hands away and laid
them to the side, loosened his pants and put her hands inside.
She administered tender and artful massage for several long moments
and asked, 'How does that feel'?
Feels great, he replied; but I still think my thumb's broken!
[/h]

 

[Foreigner]

Angela Merkel arrives at Passport Control in Paris Orly airport. "Nationality?" asks the immigration officer.
"German," she replies.

"Occupation?"
"No, I`m just here for a few days."

Good one.

Few amusing quotes:

"France has neither winter nor summer nor morals. Apart from these
drawbacks it is a fine country. France has usually been governed by
prostitutes." -- Mark Twain.

"I would rather have a German division in front of me than a French one
behind me." -- General George S. Patton.

 

[Major]

Two little kids are in a hospital, lying on stretchers next to each
other outside the operating room---the first surgeries of the day.

The first kid leans over and asks, "What are you in here for?"

The second kid says, "I'm in here to get my tonsils out and I'm a
little nervous."

The first kid says, "You've got nothing to worry about. I had that done
when I was four. They put you to sleep, and when you wake up they give
you lots of Jell-O and Ice Cream. It's a breeze."

The second kid then asks, "What are you here for?"

The first kid says, "A circumcision."

"Whoa!" the second kid replies. "Good luck buddy. I had that done when
I was born. Couldn't walk for a year."

 

[amaroo]

A man retires.

He booked himself on a Caribbean cruise and proceeded to have the time of his life, that is, until the ship sank.
He soon found himself on an island with no other people, no supplies, nothing, only bananas and coconuts.

After about four months, he is lying on the beach one day when the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen rows up to the shore. In disbelief, he asks, "Where did you come from? How did you get here?"

She replies, "I rowed over from the other side of the island where I landed when my cruise ship sank."

"Amazing," he notes. "You were really lucky to have a row boat wash up with you."

"Oh, this thing?" explains the woman. "I made the boat out of some raw material I found on the island. The oars were whittled from gum tree branches. I wove the bottom from palm tree branches, and the sides and stern came from a Eucalyptus tree."

"But, where did you get the tools?"

"Oh, that was no problem," replied the woman. "On the south side of the island, a very unusual stratum of alluvial rock is exposed. I found that if I fired it to a certain temperature in my kiln, it melted into ductile iron I used that to make tools and used the tools to make the hardware."

The guy is stunned.

"Let's row over to my place," she says. So, after a short time of rowing, she soon docks the boat at a small wharf. As the man looks to shore, he nearly falls off the boat. Before him is a long stone walk leading to a cabin and tree house. While the woman ties up the rowboat with an expertly woven hemp rope, the man can only stare ahead, dumb struck. As they walk into the house, she says casually, "It's not much, but I call it home. Sit down, please."

"Would you like a drink?"

"No! No thank you," the man blurts out, still dazed. "I can't take another drop of coconut juice."

"It's not coconut juice," winks the woman. "I have a still. How would you like a Tropical Spritz?"

Trying to hide his continued amazement, the man accepts, and they sit down on her couch to talk. After they exchange their individual survival stories, the woman announces, "I'm going to slip into something more comfortable. Would you like to take a shower and shave? There's a razor in the bathroom cabinet upstairs."

No longer questioning anything, the man goes upstairs into the bathroom. There, in the cabinet is a razor made from a piece of tortoise bone. Two shells honed to a hollow ground edge are fastened on to its end inside a swivel mechanism.

"This woman is amazing," he muses. "What's next?" When he returns, she greets him wearing nothing but some small flowers on tiny vines, each strategically positioned, she smelled faintly of gardenias. She then beckons for him to sit down next to her.

"Tell me," she begins suggestively, slithering closer to him, "We've both been out here for many months. You must have been lonely. When was the last time you played around? She stares into his eyes.

He can't believe what he's hearing. "You mean..." he swallows excitedly as tears start to form in his eyes, "You've built a Golf Course?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


​

 

[Deleted member]

 

[Deleted member]

 

[codash1099]

Dear friends

There are less than 18 months until election day when the people will decide who will be the next prime minister of Australia .
The person elected will be the prime minister of all Australians, not just the Liberals or Labor. It‚s time that we all need to come together, Liberals and Laborites alike, in a bi-partisan effort for Australia .
If you will support Tony Abbot, please drive with your headlights ON during the day.
If you support Julia Gillard, please drive with your headlights OFF at night.
Together, we can make it happen.
Thank you!

 

[codash1099]

A little girl walks in to the bathroom one Sunday morning
while her Dad is sitting on the stool reading the paper.

"Where does poo come from?" she asks.

The father feeling a little perturbed that his 5 year
old daughter is already asking difficult questions thinks
for a moment and says:

"Well you know we just ate breakfast?"

"Yes," answers the girl.

"Well the food goes into our tummies and our bodies take
out all the good stuff, and then whatever is left over
comes out of our bums when we go to the toilet, and that
is poo."

The little girl looks perplexed, and stares at him in
stunned silence for a few seconds and asks: "And Tigger?"

 

[Major]

**'Hello?'**




**'Hi honey.**
**This is Daddy.**
**Is Mommy near the phone?'**







**'No, Daddy.**
**She's upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Paul.'**







**After a brief pause,**







**Daddy says,**
**'But honey, you haven't got an Uncle Paul.'**






**'Oh yes I do, and he's upstairs in the room with Mommy,**
**Right now.'**







Brief Pause.






**'Uh, okay then, this is what I want you to do.**
**Put the phone down on the table, run upstairs**
**And knock on the bedroom door and shout to Mommy**
**That Daddy's car just pulled into the driveway.'**





**'Okay, Daddy, Just a minute.'**







**A few minutes later**
**The little girl comes back to the phone.**





**'I did it, Daddy.'**





**'And what happened, honey?' **

'Well, Mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed With no clothes on and ran around screaming.**








**Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser**
**And now she isn't moving at all!'**








**'Oh my God!!! What about your Uncle Paul?'**







**'He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too.**








**He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window**
**And into the swimming pool.**
**But I guess he didn't know that you took out the water**
**Last week to clean it.**







**He hit the bottom of the pool and I think he's dead.'**








*****Long Pause*****








*****Longer Pause*****







*****Even Longer Pause*****







**Then Daddy says,**







**'Swimming pool? ...........**



**Is this 486-5731?'*