The Entertainer
Having no office party, a bunch of us (about 50) IT freelance geeks decided to organise our own Christmas party. We booked a nice hotel, and also booked an entertainer who was recommended to us by a different venue (the local footie stadium, who we didn't go with in the end because they didn't do decent beer). He claimed to do both comedy and music. I suppose being recommended by people who deal with football fans should have set alarm bells ringing, but they didn't.

He opened with a routine where he was dressed as an ostrich rider. One of his first gags was "What do you call an Irish lesbian? Gaelic". It got worse from there. He even *looked* a bit like Bernard Manning. Most of the party suddenly took up smoking and moved outside. Those who stayed inside retreated to the bar at the opposite end of the room, leaving him playing to no-one within 50 yards.

After the comedy he did his music - karaoke style stuff. By this time, of course, no-one wanted to go near him. Everyone just huddled by the bar and drank.

Fair play: he did his entire 3 hour set. Stood alone, bravely performing, being a professional, he at least got everyone's respect if not their laughs. It was an absolutely superhuman effort. At the end after everyone had left and I was helping to clear up, he came to me almost in tears. I assured him no-one would post online the many photos/videos they'd taken of him dying, and summoning my best silver-lining mode assured him that he'd made the evening "very memorable" for everyone.

Poor, poor guy.
(WrittenBittern, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 21:12, 5 replies)

True story.
Mum: They found these new-born puppies abandoned in a metal box.
Me: Was it a litter bin?
(pause)
Me: Oh come on! That was a proper joke!
Mum: What was?
Me: (goes off in huff)
( Ambegris likes his tea stirred anti-clockwise, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 21:06, 1 reply)

I was at Monkey World in sunny Dorset.
They have a load of capuchin monkeys that have been rescued from a Chilean vivisection lab. They're not in very good shape, very fat with a lot of missing fur. When the hippy looking MILF type stood next to me said,'Look at the poor monkeys, that lab must have done terrible things to them' my answer was,'yeah, but they all want to go back, they're gagging for a fag'. From the look she gave me, you would have thought I had just shit in her handbag.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 20:18, Reply)

Back in the days of my playing in a band
We had a contact in the RAF and got to play a few local bases. One night we played on the same bill as a comedian whose name escapes me. He started doing stag party material to a mixed audience who weren't ready for his barrage of racist and sexist jokes. He was supposed to do 30 minutes but after 10 he walked off to the sound of his own footsteps. We were given the nod to get on as soon as we could. Whilst we fiddled with our instruments the singer grabs the mic and takes a few sniffs then shouts 'it smells like someone has died up here' which got more laughs than the comedian had managed all night.

Same singer (on the night Sinatra died) started the evening's show by singing "Start spreading the news...I stopped breathing today" to a massive silence that shook the room.

Whilst working in the local theatre a self-promoted comedy show 'Haggis and Curry' was on. A Scottish comedian followed by an Indian one. The scots bloke was ok - got a few laughs and made me laugh which considering I was seeing two or more comedians a week was something. The Indian bloke read off a sheet and was wildly out of his depth. He got heckled off. Whilst clearing the stage at the end I asked the Indian comedian 'have you left anything on the stage?' "Only my pride" he retorted.
(Flobbit gave you the horn on, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 18:00, Reply)

Rumour and heresy
I was working at an Electronics Co. and after several years had naturally gotten to know the senior partners quite well. My immediate branch boss (we'll call him Simon) was a chatty altho not especially likeable type. For his holidays he went to visit established family friends in Sweden There was also an IT side to the firm due to media updates for leased products, all adding up to a well informed crowd. One day there was some disturbing gossip about Simon, in that an old school friend of his had taken up the vocation of being a porn actor - they were in no doubt about this and naturally I was reluctant to voice any opinion. A week or so later Simon happily announced that for this years holiday his Swedish friends were going to visit his family for a change. Bearing in mind the previous shocking rumour about his former school chum, I conjured my best XXX Swedish accent and loudly asked "Are we making movies?" thus imitating the visiting guests. His smile evaporated and all could see he was greatly offended. Silence greeted my humour but even worse, I couldn't stop laughing about it. I don't work there now.
(luckylife , 0 guests and 3 bots are online, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 16:19, Reply)

Red Dwarf is offensively unfunny.

( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 14:47, 20 replies)

I played in a band which was formative of the heavy metal genre.
It went down well.
(McChinaman banned, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 14:29, Reply)

Harvester, last night.
I was tired, I was hungry, I knew exactly what I wanted to eat and I was waiting to place my order. The ponce at the next table made a song and dance over his order like you wouldn't believe, thereby delaying the waitress getting to me... he was deliberating (and asking for clarification on) various cheeses, size of burger, available combinations, what is burger sauce, do you have mayonnaise, you name it.

That went down like a lead balloon with me, and I hope his fucking burger did with him.

tl;dr - I was in a hurry, someone else wasn't. Hilarity didn't ensue
( skullfunkerry In case of implosion do not look into implosion, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 13:41, 11 replies)

I know the phrase is "went down like a lead balloon"
But lead balloons go down quite easily really. It's going up that they struggle with.

Your mum goes down quite easily too, but she struggles with going... Nah, I've lost it now.
(Thor McLegend FUCK SHITPANTS PAC MAN, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 13:24, 13 replies)

I was on the way to a very important business pitch
in a car full of the people who run my company, as the monkey they trot out to say "and the person who'll actually DO the work is..."

We passed a kebab shop that was called "Troy kebabs", and I decided to laugh and say "HA - Timao danaos et doner ferentes".

Turns out Virgil-based puns are not a way to ingratiate yourself with senior managers, and there was an awkward silence. I'm not sure they're a way to ingratiate yourself with anyone.

There should be some sort of training course for interacting with normal people.
( prince-igor si tacuisses, philosophus mansisses, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 12:52, 7 replies)

Pantomime Shame
Small villages eh? Not much for a teenager to do when it's winter and the weather is determined to keep you indoors and close to your parents. As such, half of the youngsters that grew up in the same place as I did joined the local Am Dram group and spend the Autumn and Winter months rehearsing and performing* in the village pantomime.

Most of us had been to see the pantos as kids and knew all the "Oh no it isn't" "Oh yes it is" tropes that any pantomime worth its salt would roll out every year. These phrases were a bit of an on-going gag with the adults in the Am Dram group who would throw in a well-timed panto-heckle during meetings and other unexpectedly comedic moments, usually to great reception.

So naturally, when presented with the perfect opportunity of a character on stage creeping up on another I shouted "It's behind you!" in my clearest voice.

The silence that followed and the heats of my blushes are etched on my memory like coke on Daniella Westbrook's nose.

I remembered too late I was not in the village anymore. I was in the audience of my high school show, surrounded by urban kids who had probably never seen a pantomime, let alone recognised the catchphrases around it. 500 kids with NO clue why I'd just shouted such a ridiculous comment at a couple of teachers performing a sketch.

As I shrivelled up and died inside, I learnt one of the more valuable lessons of my school career - the importance of knowing your audience.

*or gossiping and chatting each other up.
( e.m.m.y. foxtrot uniform charlie kilo india tango, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 12:45, Reply)

Johnny Bollocks
1980s children's television non-paedo Johnny Ball was invited to speak at Birmingham Uni in the early 90s when the kids who grew up with Think Again were wanky ironic students. He managed a few stuttered words and then died a horrible death of insecurity and panic. 'I don't even have a degree ... I work with seven year olds ... you're all clever' ... it was unimaginably awful to watch. And probably caused global climate change.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 11:41, 5 replies)

Dick.
An old girlfriend hailed from Canberra, as her father was a pube (public servant), and had gone home for holidays from uni. I live in Sydney.

One night while she was away, her cousin - my best mate, and I decided to leg it to Canberra for drinkies with her and to crash over at her olds' place and head back in the morning to open his vet surgery. Cue a few hours on crap roads ('twas the 80s) in a van with more rattly things than a rattle shop, one headlight and a shit stereo.

We all had an awesome night out, eating and drinking in Manuka, and then partaking of substances in the back of my mate's van - a veterinary ambulance that stunk to high heavens of the urine of terrified animals being transported - high on a small mountain overlooking the city [cough], watching the lights, as the temperature headed into the single digits in the wee hours.

Eventually, we went to her olds' place, high as a kite and half crocked. My mate and I crashed on the lounge-room floor, and she went to her room, to keep some semblance of propriety and morality in front of her parents.

My mate thought it would be a laugh to play Pink Floyd's "Young Lust" at full belt while I was waking up. I thought of going to her room and offering her a well needed refill - after all, it had been a couple of weeks. Didn't happen.

We blokes made ready to drive back home. My girly stopped us, as she thought I should meet her parents for the first time.

The mother was duly introduced and was a lovely lady. Cheerful, beautifully dressed and quite gracious. She had true dignity and class. There was an elegant, restrained prestige to her.

The father marched up to me, with broad slippery grin that only a well-practised politician with vaseline on his teeth could manage. He echoed none of the positive characteristics of his wife. "Hi! I'm Dick!" he greeted, thrusting his hand out, in a manner akin to a creepy used car salesman.

As I shook his hand, my mouth started before my foggy brain did. "Yes, you are."

My mate just about soiled himself from laughing because he had been waiting to say it for years. Girly looked faux-shocked and was forcing back her laughter. Her Mum smirked. Dick looked right pissed.

tl;dr insulted gfs father; various mirth ensues.
(EffinNitWit asks his tobacco where his whisky is, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 11:09, 1 reply)

sickepedia? shitipedia more like
am i right? try the veal. it's made out of maddie. by darkies. to celebrate 9/11
(alright alright, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 11:02, 13 replies)

Oops
I was at gathering of folk with my parents and their friends, when one particularly serious lady was telling everyone how upset she was that her son was going away and that the family dog may die when he wasn 't around.

Me: How do you know the dog won't last?
Her: She's just had a stroke.
Me: I thought dogs loved those?

Queue the awkward silence...
(fase69, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 11:01, 1 reply)

Perverted Pantsdown.
Not me. A bloke I went to uni with called Chris.

2nd Year, so most of us in the course knew each other well enough to have had a pissy snog in the tavern or shared some ecstasy and a backrub at one of the mixers - what can I say, 90's uni student. Chris had transferred to this course from another uni only just scraping in with the required amount of core units.
Chris was a bit "different". He was quite the party animal and when pissed he thought it was the height of hilarity to 'dak' someone (usually an attractive drunk member of the opposite sex). Dakking or 'pantsing' being when one rushes up an quickly pulls down the trousers/jeans/skirt of an unsuspecting victim and then run away, often leaving them in their underwear or worse if they've chosen to go commando.
This was the 90's so people were a little less free and easy with the litigious behaviour - occasionally a boyfriend or such would jump up and chase Chris (usually long gone) whilst the victims friends would provide cover & assist her in getting her pants back on.
Don't get me wrong tho - what Chris did was pure sexual harassment. I doubt he ever waited till he got home before he pulled his pud out and savoured a jizz-flavoured memory before depositing it in the Wank Bank. He was a nasty perverted little weasel. The kind of guy you wish you carried those antibacterial wipes with you to use afterwards in case you had to shake hands with them.

One person who took exception to Chris was Jenny. Jen was one of the few mature age students in our course. She was quite a tall lady, her legs were long and lovely and very well toned. Her boobs were quite voluminous but didn't seem to move naturally with her body. She also had fairly large hands and feet. To anyone but the fucking village idiot Jenny was clearly a pre or post-op transgender person. No one who knew Jen at school felt any need to talk about her 'situation' and those of us who knew her outside of school never gave it a second thought. At the end of the day she was very easy on the eyes.
Jenny really hated Chris - during tutorials it would be her that hammered him on a particular point that he may have made that was incorrect. When it came to class based assessments she would single him out for his lack of polish in his work and general lack of knowledge in our classes. Chris seemed to be non-the-wiser that Jenny wasn't what she appeared to be - often making sexist comments about her size, the size of her tits and or her husky voice. Which of course annoyed Jenny even more.

Thus Jenny decided one night (at one of the Student Union "Wine and Cheese" nights - a good excuse to eat 'special' brownies and get pissed) to get her revenge on Chris. She wore a nice blouse with no bra, which was quite tight across her lovely breasts and some loose happy pants. She knew anecdotally that loose pants were one of Chris's favourite victims in dakking - easy to pull down quickly.
Chris of course got pissed and then started scouting for a 'pantsee'. Very quickly he noticed his nemesis with her nipples poking out and in a pair of loose pants no less. He snuck drunkenly in for the kill. And then he went for it, diving in and yanking Jenny's pants down.
To be met with the sight of Jenny's semi-turgid 8" dick. Clearly Jenny was enjoying this.
Rather than his usual dash Chris seemed to be stuck and having not got his usual dose of lacy knickers or white granny undies he all but got slapped in the face with a a well built blokes cock.
Jenny leaned forward and said in her best husky tranny voice and with great aplomb - "Baby if you're not going to suck it why did you pull my pants down?"

That provided Chris with the impetus to get up and go. Which he did. No one saw him for a few weeks and the last anyone in our course saw of him was when he came in to defer out of that course for a year.
(s0ckpuppet logging out to reply to you if you're not careful, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 9:55, 21 replies)

A lead balloon on a two-year delay fuse
Some years ago, at a party, I was talking the toot with my mate when a girl came into the room dressed in somewhat revealing clothing. Just as a passing comment to my friend, I said, "Whoa, somebody pass the rohypnol!" It was just said to him, not to the room in general, and I don't think I actually talked with the girl at all that night.

A couple of years after that, I was introduced to a woman at work, and she said "You don't remember me, do you? I'm the rohypnol girl."

Now THAT was a hard one to explain to my other colleagues...
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 9:19, 1 reply)

we had this bull-necked bullet-headed welshman working with us called Damian, who had to fly to ireland for a couple of days
We thought it would be hilarious to replace his windows start-up music with the theme from The Omen (Damian, geddit!). Anyway it turned out he'd had to go there on leave because his Dad had died unexpectedly, and he was still deeply emotionaly distraught over it.
Not quite the belly-aching japery we were hoping for when he came in and slumped at his computer.
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 8:56, Reply)

Last year my mother had a couple of strokes (umph pardon)
(That's not the lead balloon)

I was sitting with her a few days after she got out of hospital when 2 stroke nurses came out to check on her progress.

Nurse 1 : (to my mother) "Well here we have your care pack" points to a load of bumff and booklets from the NHS.

Nurse 2 : (to me) "And have you taken the time to read the care for someone with a stroke booklet?"

Me : "Yeah, it's an interesting read.... But all the text slopes off on the right hand side"

SILENCE (Apart from my mother who was uncontrollably laughing.) I've seen them twice since and still get evil stares.
( tim1701 I have no board signature!!!!!, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 7:45, 6 replies)

Jeremy Beadle's small hand
Alone at a BBQ a mutual friend introduced me to very beautiful girl. We got on brilliantly, everything looked positive. Personally, I believe I was very sexy and hilarious: a font of high class jokes and cerebral humour.

That is until the drink and nerves kicked in... I picked up one of those large 660ml bottles of beer in one hand, and a small bottle of beer in the other. Instantly I reverted to type and announced loudly to the girl and the wider group "look I'm Jeremy Beadle!". Bemused faces. I desperately felt the need to elucidate.

"Jeremy Beadle. He's got a small hand"
(Waves big bottle of beer)
"Well he's dead now, but he had a very small hand"
(Jiggles large bottle beside small bottle)
"You mean you haven't heard that joke. You know... Jeremy Beadle's got a big penis. But on the other hand its quite small"
(Half-heartedly jiggles large bottle of beer in a masturbatory motion)

EVERYONE turned their back on me and started new conversations. Jeremy Beadle's hand is cursed.
(Parmenu, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 7:08, 2 replies)

It must have been the Swastika
It wasn't an effort at humor that went awry, it was a gesture of respect.

Our theater company was finishing a run of "Cabaret". Every night, the show's finale featured an enormous Nazi flag, which would unfurl from the proscenium and dramatize Germany's progressing moral and political decay.

The actress who played the beautiful, mercuric Sally Bowles wanted to offer a token of thanks to the show's director for doing a good job. Her idea was to gather the cast together at the end of the run, have everyone sign the Nazi flag, and present it to him as a gift.

Oh yes, he was Jewish.

A few worrywarts derailed the plan at the last minute, but rumor of the plan was enough to cause offense.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 6:00, Reply)

www.sickipedia.org/jokes/racism/pakistani-52
( Zuowan, Fri 23 Aug 2013, 5:28, 3 replies)

I used to work in a mostly-female office in Wood Green
and Blondie stuck out a bit. Most of my colleagues where from the big bad smoke, but she hailed from the sticks, and, at 27, still lived a sheltered life with mummy and daddy in the dull, safe orbital dormitory town she'd grown up in.

A new Primark opened near us, and the mostly-women chattered about this over lunch, reveling in the prospect of inexpensive shoes and trying on each other's pants. They moved on to discuss different shoes, and then other cheap, shit clothes stores, at which point someone asked if anyone remembered Eisenegger.

"Eisernegger?" said Blondie "we used to do this thing out my way, when we saw someone in Eisernegger clothes, we'd do this with our hands and say 'hey Eiser-negger'"
We didn't get it.
"Eyz-ah-negger"
Still didn't.
"Bloody hell! I's-a-nigger. Get it? Cos it was shit, and black people.."

60% of her audience were dark folk. Everyone else was mildly appalled.
(cs1ca, Thu 22 Aug 2013, 23:59, 1 reply)

Wedding rings
If you're unfortunate enough to break a bone badly enough that it needs pinning, you are sometimes allowed to keep the screws and pins once (if) they are removed. My A level physics teacher was telling us that just such a thing had happened to him, and that he had decided to have his wedding ring made from the melted-down pins.

"That's a bit odd" I commented. "That you should choose to indicate your marriage with a momento from a massive and painful accident".


Really, I think my last bit of coursework deserved a better mark than it actually got.
( MatJ LOOK, Thu 22 Aug 2013, 23:42, Reply)

Kunt, and his so-called "Gang".

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Thu 22 Aug 2013, 22:27, 17 replies)

Bearded Twat
Quiz night at boozer team assembled and ready to go. "What's the name for the team." I let out "Bearded Twats" without noticing someone in our team had a hairy face. I was very very drunk
( spazzcaptain Misses Valin @, Thu 22 Aug 2013, 22:18, 1 reply)