Literally just happened
I just got back from a gig where, unfortunately, one of the topics of conversation during pre-set drinks was the fact that one of our colleagues has had to get on the next flight to Australia to be with his dying father. Alice, a singer who was working with us this evening, is a lovely lady with a real knack for engaging her mouth before her brain. This was her reaction to the news:

“What is it with everyone’s dads? This is, like, the fifth dead dad this year!”

Two of the people with “dead dads” were sitting right there.
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Mon 16 May 2011, 23:41, 2 replies)

Unsuitable employment
In the office one drab Monday, the standard conversation gets around to what everyone's done at the weekend. The enquiry is duly put to me and I reply "Not much but my brother and I did go off-roading over the pennines with his range rover on Sunday morning."

Not very drastic, I know. I should add that I currently work for a very eco-conscious charity organisation and most of the other responses related to environmental protesting, recycling projects and other such lentil & tofu munching activities.
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Mon 16 May 2011, 23:38, Reply)

In Tesco on Saturday and overheard
Customer: "Do you have that Madeleine MacCann book? Its just come out"

Manager: "Its not on the shopfloor (looking at the shelves), it must be hiding"

Customer: o.O
( Fire & Forget it's the only way to be sure, Mon 16 May 2011, 22:41, 3 replies)

One good turn...
The missus and I do try to be good Samaritans. We were out having a pootle in Cumbria when I spied an old fella laying on the ground, legs akimbo; with his shopping and stick splayed across the path onto the verge.

I leapt from the car (it had stopped by this stage of course) and hurriedly trotted over to the supine senior, "Hello sir, is everything allright there? Are you in need of assistance?!" I cried...

"No, I'm just picking up grass."

I headed back to the car, confused.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Mon 16 May 2011, 21:22, 9 replies)

Long Time lurker first time poster ect ect
I have a couple of these but by far my favorite is one that my youngest brother saved me from. My middle brother and his girlfriend where over the good bar household for dinner (middle brother lives with his aforementioned girlfriend) The conversation moves to famous museums that we would like to visit I mention the black museum (I am a morbid fuck and the black museum is a collection of Scotland yards crime exhibits Dennis Nilsen's tupperware etc) The whole table goes silent and everyone looks at me like I am a nutcase. Good bar the younger pipes in with "do they have rooms for all the rappers like Run Dmc and Will Smith?" Everyone pisses themselves (good bar the younger is just confused but bless him he saved my bacon.)

More recently we where at the pub for my mates stag, another friend is currently planning his question popping and says I need to get her somewhere to propose I respond with it can't be that hard to get her into McDonald's (I wanted to make him look classless but I forgot shes been battling weight problems for a while) Whole table shuts up I get my coat

FIN
(Mr_Good_bar, Mon 16 May 2011, 21:07, Reply)

Pubic grooming
Visualise the scene, about 8 or 9 workmates of various sexes in the pub one Friday lunchtime. One of the girls started to talk about her up and coming wedding. Everyone was rapt as she talked about the cake, all the catering, the reception, who's attending etc and she finally got on to describe her wedding dress. "Oh" she said "that reminds me I must trim by bush".

Of course the other girls in the pub were gob-smacked and several pints of beer was expelled through noses and down shirts before the whole place erupted in laughter.


Apparently, she was talking about the tree outside her front door as she didn't want to snag her new wedding dress on it.
( Signify, Mon 16 May 2011, 21:06, 4 replies)

Good Friday this year
I was sat round the table with my very religious parents, who had not long got back from church. Somehow the conversation got round to my mum mentioning how sad it was that some people got more famous after they'd died. Forgetting where I was, I said "Well, it certainly worked for Jesus didn't it?"
(deadly_sinners, Mon 16 May 2011, 21:01, Reply)

How to deal with door to door charity collections...
This very evening, not twenty minutes ago, there was a knock at the door. Sweary Jr went off to answer it. In the doorway, a woman stood.

"Christian Aid. Would you like to make a contribution?"

Deadpan, SJ responded, "How do I do that?"

"You put money in the envelope."

"Ah, I haven't got any spare; I need the money I do have to buy tabs and drink and stuff".

"..."

He's fifteen.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Mon 16 May 2011, 19:38, 11 replies)

Very awkward
A few years ago I was working a night shift in a call centre in Newcastle. The shift ended at midnight, way after public transport was done and I didn't have a car. Thankfully, a guy who lived near me agreed I could hop in his dad's car, along with another guy we worked with.

In the car we chatted away happily, I brought up a girl we'd sat with, and asked if any one else said she'd been rather flirty with me. One lad agreed she had but the guy who's dad was driving said. "Trust me goose, I've known girls like her all my life, you'l never get anything."
"There's one key difference between me and you Greg." I said with a pause. Greg turned to face me to hear our key difference. "I can get cheap rohypnol."

The silence was deadly, my joke had fallen flat and I'd made my self look like a rapist. I muttered an apology about my twisted sense of humour and waited for conversation to resume.

As it turns out the girl was mental and I'd not have required any drugs to bed her, though I'd certainly need a few afterwards.
(Mong goose, Mon 16 May 2011, 18:16, Reply)

Apologies for length
A few years ago I worked for the financial arm of a High Street bank. I was an Account Manager, which when you actually looked into what I did, boiled down to cold calling people and selling them loans. As such I was based in a small office which was run as a mini sales call centre. 7 people, 1 manager and from 10am until 7pm the room was buzzing with hyper sales people on the phones trying to get a sale.

The team that was based in our Chelmsford office got on well, and I used to love working there. We all seemed to click, and if the room wasn’t full of chatter between salespeople and customers on the phone, it was awash with conversation between the people that work there. If you have a room full of salespeople, their natural inclination is to bloody talk.

After being there for a year or so I got a call from my mum to tell me that her own mother had been taken ill and rushed to hospital, and that things were looking pretty grim. Although not especially close to my maternal grandmother, I wanted to be there for my own mum, whose voice was breaking with emotion as she had spoken to me. I told my boss Del, and immediately got told to go home and make sure things were ok, and that they would expect me back pretty much as and when I felt it was right to come back.

I rushed my mum to Basildon hospital within the hour, and we stood at the end of my nans bed for several hours, listening to her laboured breathing. Eventually the nurse came in, said that although my nan was in a bad way, standing and watching her was not good for anyone and that we should come back the next day.

The following day I drove back up there again, and stood in the same position as before, this time feeling as though I could slowly see the life ebb out of the woman laying in the bed. My mum did what she could, cleaning away the dribble that was on nans chin and generally making sure the old girl was comfortable, even though she was either asleep or unconscious. The whole time I could see that mum was torn. Her upbringing had been far from a fairytale, and she would have been within rights to not even speak to her own mother, but as a God fearing Catholic, she always wants to do what is best by people, and my heart bled for her as later that day nan passed away.

Having never been close to my nan, her death meant very little to me. My mums wellbeing, however, did, and seeing her break down in tears at the mix of upset and anger that it brought deeply saddened me.

I drove her home and dropped her off, but she was still in a fragile state, so I said that I would take the next day off of work to spend some time with her and make sure she was ok. The following morning I texted Del to tell him the news. “Nan passed away last night. Mum is broken up. I’ll be popping in this morning to grab some stuff from work, then going back to be with mum to arrange the funeral. I’ll be back in to work properly tomorrow if that’s ok.” It was a rhetorical question. I got on extremely well with Del, he knew me, even knew my mum, so I knew he would be fine with the extra day off that I had taken.

As I walked into work a couple of hours after texting Del, I wandered through from the front door and entered the sales room via the side entrance, deliberately so as to minimise interrupting anyone. I was still in shock at how badly affected my mum was, and certainly wasn’t in the mood to be happy and chatty with anyone. The sales room itself was busy, as normal, and there was a crescendo of noise between the people that were there. I could hear at least a couple of people on the phone, a couple more chatting to each other as the kettle boiled, and Del, whose seat offered him the only view of the side door that I had used, was sitting and laughing at something that had been said. Suddenly, he saw me.
“Hiya mate, didn’t expect to see you here.” He said, alarmed.
“I’ve just come in to pick up some bits then I’m shooting off again.” I’d already texted him to tell him this, and couldn’t work out why he was acting so surprised at seeing me.

“You ok?”

“Yep, fine.” I was curt, but polite.

“Your mum ok?”

I’d forgotten quite how much he loved a chat.

“As well as she can be.” I said, pulling that weird what-can-you-do face.

“Oh,” he thought for a second or two, wondering how to move the conversation on. “How’s your nan?”

Was he taking the Mick? He wasn’t as it turned out, and as the rest of the room continued their own conversations, I replied bluntly:

“Still dead.”

Perhaps a little too bluntly. My eyes scanned the room as I became acutely aware that all conversation had stopped, and every single pair of eyes were on me. “Still dead.” I repeated, for some reason believing that saying it again would make it sound less harsh.

I scooped up my bag and walking through the busy, but still silent sales room and let myself out.

I later found out that far from just being an insensitive idiot, my boss hadn’t in fact received my text message saying how nan had died, nor was he aware that I would be coming in to pick something up.
( SeasonTicketless is too often the statue, and rarely the pigeon., Mon 16 May 2011, 17:51, Reply)

Betty Swollocks
Part conversation killer / part ice-breaker, this one.

When I was 15 and my brother 18, he brought his girlfriend round to meet our parents for the first time.

Over dinner we were all chatting away, and I slipped into the conversation, 'that's just like Betty Swollocks'.

'Who's Sweaty Bollocks'?, replied my mum instantly.

How we chuckled!
(tcp, Mon 16 May 2011, 16:58, Reply)

Dolly
A few years ago my little sister had to be admitted to hospital for an operation on her foot.
She was put in a ward with 4 much older women. As they didn’t have many visitors we’d all chat to them when we went to see my sis.
One day when we were visiting her a nurse came to see Dolly.
Dolly was in her 50s and didn’t say very much but mentioned she’d had her ‘down there’ done which was a conversation stopper in itself.
The nurse had some badly hidden dildo type things on her tray and pulled the curtain round and after some mumbling and asking Dolly to put it in, we could hear Dolly groaning and saying ‘oooh that feels great. I’ve been wanting to feel that for years’

The whole ward sat with their mouths open in stony silence whilst a very newly pre-op transsexual was frigging herself off less than a metre away

*Edit - I mean post-op
(Nanny Pat vote for me, Mon 16 May 2011, 16:56, 9 replies)

Muppers' story reminds me...
We were selling our house in York a few years back. A very nice French woman, with very good English was interested. She viewed the house, rang up later and asked if she could come back with a friend the next day. Excellent. She came round with the friend, they did the tour, chatting excitedly together etc. Came back down and she said she was putting in an offer. Result! We made a bit of small talk:
Me: "Do you live in York?"
Her: "Yes, I work at the University, I live on campus at the moment."
Me: "Really? What do you teach? French?"
Her: "No, micro-biology."
Me: "......"
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Mon 16 May 2011, 16:45, 8 replies)

Bagpipes
At the funeral of a Scottish friend. My mate, in a loud voice, on walking past the lone bagpiper stood in full kilt and sporran playing a mournful tune as the congregation file in behind the coffin:

"Fucking buskers. THERE'S A TIME AND A PLACE."
(DBS, Mon 16 May 2011, 16:33, 5 replies)

cheeky fucker!
woken up one morning by the phone ringing. it was a cold-caller, trying to sell me double glazing or some such bollocks.
"hello" i says to him.
"my name is john, i represent reallyshitcompany" says he.
"yes, could you tell me what it is you want?" i asks.
"could i speak to the lady of the house, sir?" he asks.
now, i may sound a bit husky first thing in the morning, but i'm not that manly!
conversation was duly killed as i replied "i AM the lady of the house!" before hanging up on him.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Mon 16 May 2011, 16:24, 19 replies)

after a couple of sneaky post work beers
and in mixed, normal (reasonably polite) company, our boss casually dropped into the conversation that he had spent hundreds of pounds on hooker once and didn't even get to have sex with her... !

many a pint glass were frozen between table and gaping mouth.
(hippospunk37 domo arigato mr roboto, Mon 16 May 2011, 16:18, 7 replies)

We once saw him beat a man until both he and the man were crying.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 16 May 2011, 15:13, 2 replies)

Audience participation can really make an act
We were watching a stand up comedian in a small venue in that London. I was sitting with a friend of mine, a very attractive, but quite shy, 25 year old brunette, who we'll call Kerry, since she seems to answer to it. The comedian was making a joke about students.

'Students' he says 'anyone a student here?' Kerry raises her hand timidly. 'You're a student? What are you studying?' asks the comedian, ready to sneer. 'Well, a PhD, actually' Kerry says, blushing slightly, not wanting to elaborate.

He won't let it lie though. 'A PhD? But you're a girl' he mocks, 'what are you doing a PhD in, knitting?' 'No, says Kerry, 'not knitting. Equine biomechanics'

The comedian was rendered speechless, and I tell that story to everyone that will listen.
(muppers, Mon 16 May 2011, 15:11, 9 replies)

caravan park, circa 1990....
during a show, my younger brother of around 6 puts his hand up as he has a joke.

"how many windows does a hotel have" he proudly quizzed.

the compere played along, "i dont know..."

my brother, "count them".....

fucking stonewall, this always makes me chuckle and the family reminds him every time we get together :-D


+++++++++++++++++++++++

Also at my mams birthday meal last year, about 16 of us went for a curry, friends and family all sitting on one big table. Brother stands up and pings his glass, gives a little speech about how we're all chuffed to be there, etc...

He finishes with "heres to another notch on the bedpost!" to which everyone kinda looks around, my dad looks at me and shrugs. I am dying of laughter

He's my best man next month, I hope he doesnt fuck up that speach!
(Monkeystrumpet monkey. Monkey, MONKEY!!!, Mon 16 May 2011, 14:20, 2 replies)

A moving story
This morning, just before I was going to take me daughter over to primary school I went outside to check me car (as it's a clapped out piece of shit) and my Iranian neighbour Mohammed walked over to my car. Mohammed's my next door neighbour and has had a rough time as of late; his wife and children left him while he was in work as she felt trapped in her environment. This added with the fact that the only English word she could utter was "Hi" made her want out. So one night while he was working, she packed her stuff, got the Police to pick her up as she didn't know any other number, and was carted off into the unknown with Mohammed none the wiser. He finished his shift at half eleven one night, gets home and finds it derelict, the fallout being we ended up having to calm him down until 1am while we tried to piece together what happened (she'd actually been taken in by the Protection services until they could get an interpreter; all they'd received was a phonecall from her family in another country pleading if someone could help her).

So anyroads, he wanders upto me, gives me a big man-hug and tells me in broken English that all his praying has paid off and his wife wants him back, with him moving away this morning to Cardiff. Apparently she has alot more friends there and she doesn't feel as isolated as she did here, so he's happy as long as she is and he can live with his kids again. I congratulate him, and call him in the house to tell the missus who is currently getting our daughter ready for school. He gives her this speech where he's practically crying tears of joy as he's getting to see his family again, until the missus drops this question;

"Are you going soon? Cos part of me daughter's bike fell over your wall in your back garden and she needs it back."

Talk about an awkward goodbye after that.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Mon 16 May 2011, 13:41, 6 replies)

An old friend had a knack for leaving us all lost for words.
In a tapas bar, after just tasting the calamari: 'These onion rings are weird'

At a petrol station, having realised she had no money: 'Can't I just fax you the cash later?'

On discussing the FA Cup: 'When do they draw the teams for the final?'

On Guns'n'Roses: 'I like their song 'Very Nice City''

On seeing The Manchester Wheel: 'They have a London Eye in Manchester now'

But my favourite, just as the waiter appeared behind her to pour some wine: 'I don't give blow jobs. I wouldn't mind but by that point I am just too desperate for a cock inside me'
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Mon 16 May 2011, 13:28, 9 replies)

Inappropriate birthday gift
Bit of a pearoast this one, but apt all the same.

At a bar one evening after work, a number of the guys and gals having consumed too much liquid were bemoaning their lack of action between the sheets.

Colleague A - I haven't had sex for 3 months.

Colleague B - That's nothing I haven't had sex for a year.

Colleague C - I haven't had sex since my dad's Birthday.


Conversation killer? It's kinda difficult to talk when you're worried about dying from laughter.
(BinDipper, Mon 16 May 2011, 13:17, 2 replies)

if it moves and it shouldn't then use wd40.
if it shouldn't and it does then use gaffer tape.
( blaireau69 , the Cumbrian Travis Bickle., Mon 16 May 2011, 12:42, 7 replies)

When I found out about how baseball boot manufacturers are complicit in genocide, I'd had enough, and said in my poshest voice
"Converse? Ay shun killers!"


Or something.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 16 May 2011, 12:36, 5 replies)

"How do you get a nun pregnant? Fuck her!"
The perfect joke for any kind of social gathering. Best shouted.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 16 May 2011, 12:26, 2 replies)

I once typed "your" instead of "you're" on talk
not only did it kill the conversation but I got verbally bum raped to.
( monkeyboyalpha jumping on the bandwagon since, Mon 16 May 2011, 12:19, 12 replies)

shutthefuckup
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Mon 16 May 2011, 11:12, 1 reply)

Involuntary gay bukkake
I've slightly given the "punchline" away in the title, but:
there was about ten of us watching one of the England games in the last World Cup (it was that game where ITV cut to the adverts and missed the goal).

As the match was winding down, we were debating what we would do with the rest of the day, evening and night. Steve said "I'm not going out after last weekend"
"heavy night, eh?" I asked
"Yeah," said Steve "last thing I remember, I was chatting to two blokes in some pub and then I woke up just as they both spunked on my face. I think they spiked my drink"
You could have heard a pin drop in the pub at that point.
(ScousersPet, Mon 16 May 2011, 10:05, Reply)

Seriously - no one else in interested in your child's "amusing" antics.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 16 May 2011, 9:57, 14 replies)