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The Official TP Funnies thread ( Jokes Memes etc )
- Thread starter Cobra
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Two guys were lying in their hospital beds waiting to go to theatre. One asked the other: "What are you in for?"
He answered: " an endoscopy"
"What's that?" the first one asked.
"They put a tube down your throat into your stomach to check for ulcers and cancer. What are you in for?"
"A camera up my backside."
"Ah! That's a colonoscopy" said the first guy.
"No" said the other, "My wife caught me taking pictures of our next door neighbour sunbathing in the nude."
He answered: " an endoscopy"
"What's that?" the first one asked.
"They put a tube down your throat into your stomach to check for ulcers and cancer. What are you in for?"
"A camera up my backside."
"Ah! That's a colonoscopy" said the first guy.
"No" said the other, "My wife caught me taking pictures of our next door neighbour sunbathing in the nude."
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My wife has wasted years campaigning for tampon companies to make sanitary products suitable for the 'larger' lady.
I'm trying to convince her that it's time to just throw in the towel.
I'm trying to convince her that it's time to just throw in the towel.
DorsetDude
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Ok, I know its early on a monday, but I cant figure this one out? What is the shadow shape supposed to be?
The silhouette seems to show a "woman" with a ponytail standing to urinate - not what you might want to see on a first date...
DorsetDude
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Ah! I thought it was a lap top with a finger tapping it. Doh.
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- The real Chris
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What no uncle Jack and horse?
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mischief night nightmare just been the shops and some lad hit me over the head with a power tool. I was just standing there minding my own business and Bosch!
Mr Badger
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In Cheshire mischief night is usually regarded as being the night before November the 5th. Mind you, round here we know the drill.
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Be the life of a party by murdering everyone else.
Mr Badger
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A Halloween ghost story.
In the early 1970s there was a quaint little pub in a picturesque village in the heart of rural England. Despite the photogenic nature of the village it was very remote, so the pub relied on trade from the locals. The landlord was an affable chap and keen to keep the locals happy, so he made his pub the centre of village life, and none more popular an attraction was the landlord’s dog; a cute and friendly little mongrel who loved the pub’s customers and, more importantly, they all loved him.
Not a lunchtime or evening session went by without the locals making a fuss of the dog, feeding him beer and crisps when the landlord wasn’t looking. The years went by and as we know, dogs don’t live forever; especially well-loved dogs that are fed a daily diet of beer and crisps.
Sadly, the little dog died and the landlord and his customers were very upset. Thoughts turned to how they should pay their respects; the landlord wanted to bury the dog in the beer garden. However, several of the pub regulars wanted the dog to be stuffed and put in a glass case above the bar so they could remember their little friend.
The discussion continued all one evening, then one of the regulars finally came up with a compromise; give the dog a burial… but first cut off the dog’s tail and mount it on a plaque above the bar so they’d have something to remember him by. Everyone thought this was a good idea. So, the deed was done and the dog’s tail was mounted on an engraved brass plaque bearing his name, dates of birth and passing, and the touching inscription ‘A much loved friend to all’.
A month to the day of the dog’s passing was the night of Hallowe’en. It was a dark and stormy night, with wind and rain beating against the windows of the pub, and the lights flickered with every gust. Trade had been very poor that evening, with all customers having left before closing time. Dead on 11pm the landlord began his nightly ritual of bolting the doors and drawing the curtains. The wind blew, the rain lashed, and the lights flickered once more… suddenly all the hairs on the landlord’s neck began to stand on end as he realised he was not alone! He turned to face the bar, and there, in the flickering half-light, he saw a shape dart from the shadows towards him. It was the little dog!
“You’ve come back!” the Landlord exclaimed. “Yes, I have.” replied the dog. The landlord was astounded… “You can talk!” he blurted. “Yes.”, replied the dog “That’s one of the things we can do when we go to doggy heaven”. Trying to regain his composure the landlord asked “You’ve been to heaven? What’s it like up there?”
The little dog sat down on the floor in front of him and replied “It’s beautiful, I have the choice of all my favourite foods every day, and I had fillet steak this lunchtime. I just can’t fault it, it’s so peaceful up there too, lovely countryside for me to run around in, warm ponds to swim in, the weather is whatever I want it to be, there’s squirrels and rabbits to chase whenever I want… and all the bitches are permanently on heat! It really is perfect, a dog couldn’t wish for more”.
The landlord looked puzzled and said “If you’re enjoying yourself that much then why have you come back here?”. The dog replied uncomfortably “That’s the problem, I really am loving it up there but, because I haven’t got a tail to wag, the other dogs have started a rumour that I’m not enjoying myself… and I’m very worried that the powers that be might believe them and banish me!”.
“I see”, said the landlord, “but what can I possibly do to help?”. The little ghost dog sighed heavily and looked above the bar to where his tail was hanging on a brass plaque and said wistfully, “Please, tonight, give me back my tail”.
The landlord slowly shook his head and said “I’m sorry, I can’t”. “But why?” howled the little dog. To which the landlord replied; “You know the licensing laws as well as I do…. I’m not allowed to retail spirits after hours!”
In the early 1970s there was a quaint little pub in a picturesque village in the heart of rural England. Despite the photogenic nature of the village it was very remote, so the pub relied on trade from the locals. The landlord was an affable chap and keen to keep the locals happy, so he made his pub the centre of village life, and none more popular an attraction was the landlord’s dog; a cute and friendly little mongrel who loved the pub’s customers and, more importantly, they all loved him.
Not a lunchtime or evening session went by without the locals making a fuss of the dog, feeding him beer and crisps when the landlord wasn’t looking. The years went by and as we know, dogs don’t live forever; especially well-loved dogs that are fed a daily diet of beer and crisps.
Sadly, the little dog died and the landlord and his customers were very upset. Thoughts turned to how they should pay their respects; the landlord wanted to bury the dog in the beer garden. However, several of the pub regulars wanted the dog to be stuffed and put in a glass case above the bar so they could remember their little friend.
The discussion continued all one evening, then one of the regulars finally came up with a compromise; give the dog a burial… but first cut off the dog’s tail and mount it on a plaque above the bar so they’d have something to remember him by. Everyone thought this was a good idea. So, the deed was done and the dog’s tail was mounted on an engraved brass plaque bearing his name, dates of birth and passing, and the touching inscription ‘A much loved friend to all’.
A month to the day of the dog’s passing was the night of Hallowe’en. It was a dark and stormy night, with wind and rain beating against the windows of the pub, and the lights flickered with every gust. Trade had been very poor that evening, with all customers having left before closing time. Dead on 11pm the landlord began his nightly ritual of bolting the doors and drawing the curtains. The wind blew, the rain lashed, and the lights flickered once more… suddenly all the hairs on the landlord’s neck began to stand on end as he realised he was not alone! He turned to face the bar, and there, in the flickering half-light, he saw a shape dart from the shadows towards him. It was the little dog!
“You’ve come back!” the Landlord exclaimed. “Yes, I have.” replied the dog. The landlord was astounded… “You can talk!” he blurted. “Yes.”, replied the dog “That’s one of the things we can do when we go to doggy heaven”. Trying to regain his composure the landlord asked “You’ve been to heaven? What’s it like up there?”
The little dog sat down on the floor in front of him and replied “It’s beautiful, I have the choice of all my favourite foods every day, and I had fillet steak this lunchtime. I just can’t fault it, it’s so peaceful up there too, lovely countryside for me to run around in, warm ponds to swim in, the weather is whatever I want it to be, there’s squirrels and rabbits to chase whenever I want… and all the bitches are permanently on heat! It really is perfect, a dog couldn’t wish for more”.
The landlord looked puzzled and said “If you’re enjoying yourself that much then why have you come back here?”. The dog replied uncomfortably “That’s the problem, I really am loving it up there but, because I haven’t got a tail to wag, the other dogs have started a rumour that I’m not enjoying myself… and I’m very worried that the powers that be might believe them and banish me!”.
“I see”, said the landlord, “but what can I possibly do to help?”. The little ghost dog sighed heavily and looked above the bar to where his tail was hanging on a brass plaque and said wistfully, “Please, tonight, give me back my tail”.
The landlord slowly shook his head and said “I’m sorry, I can’t”. “But why?” howled the little dog. To which the landlord replied; “You know the licensing laws as well as I do…. I’m not allowed to retail spirits after hours!”
*Wife:* I have a bag full of used clothing I’d like to donate.
*Husband:* Why not just throw it in the trash? That's much easier.
*Wife:* But there are poor starving people who can really use all these clothes.
*Husband:* Honey, anyone who fits into your clothing is not starving.
*Husband:* Why not just throw it in the trash? That's much easier.
*Wife:* But there are poor starving people who can really use all these clothes.
*Husband:* Honey, anyone who fits into your clothing is not starving.
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LOL ah yes the great Dave Allen
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Went to a swinger’s party last night in my army uniform. Had to leave my khakis in the bowl.
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Guy holds a fancy dress party, there is a knock at the door so goes to answer it, there in front of him is a naked man with a naked girls on his back.
So he says to the naked man, "What have you comes as?"
"I've comes as a snail" came the reply.
"So who is the naked girl on your back?" he asks.
"Oh that's just Michelle"
So he says to the naked man, "What have you comes as?"
"I've comes as a snail" came the reply.
"So who is the naked girl on your back?" he asks.
"Oh that's just Michelle"
His mate turns up in his underwear.
Host asks, what are you?
A premature ejaculation.
Eh?
Yeah, I came in my pants [emoji3]
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DorsetDude
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