God Knows why but
I once entered 10 puns in a pun contest and won £275.00.

What?
(mon bison powered by magnets, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 11:07, Reply)

Two parrots
were standing on a perch.

One turned to the other and said "can you smell fish?"
(MattDP (Squiggle), Fri 6 Mar 2009, 11:05, Reply)

This QOTW
is a joke.
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 11:03, Reply)

oh deary me..
Walking into the Glasgow nightclub, I noticed that all of the staff members had laminated ID badges, with their full names on, so I had to smile when I checked my jacket in with Angus McCoatup..
(Beer Elf Thought this was like a campfire, anyhow, on, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 10:57, 1 reply)

What do you call a black man flying a plane?
The pilot.

That is all.
(Grrrrr Tigers, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 10:46, Reply)

Donkey funnies
Q: What do you call a donkey with three legs?
A: A wonky donkey.

Q: What do you call a donkey with three legs and one eye?
A: A winky wonky donkey.

Q: What do you call a minature donkey with three legs and one eye?
A: A winky wonky dinky donkey.

Q: What do you call a minature donkey with three legs and one eye that can play the piano?
A: A plinky-plonky winky wonky dinky donkey.

Q: What do you call a minature donkey with three legs and one eye that can play the piano and has a bad case of wind?
A: A stinky plinky-plonky winky wonky dinky donkey.

Q: What do you call a really clever minature donkey with three legs and one eye that can play the piano and has a bad case of wind?
A: A thinky stinky plinky-plonky winky wonky dinky donkey.

Q: What do you call a really clever minature donkey with three legs and one eye that can play the piano and has a bad case of wind that has been attacked by a squid?
A: An inky thinky stinky plinky-plonky winky wonky dinky donkey

Q: What do you call a black really clever minature donkey with three legs and one eye that can play the piano and has a bad case of wind that has been attacked by a squid?
A Cunt
(NuffMuff fucks shrubbery, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 10:41, 3 replies)

It's poor i know
What do you get if you cross a spaceman, a clown and a heavy lorry?

A jugglernaught.
(NuffMuff fucks shrubbery, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 10:38, 2 replies)

A woman had just returned to her home from an evening of church services,
when she was startled by an intruder. She caught the man in the act of robbing her home of its valuables and yelled: 'Stop! Acts 2:38!'

In the Bible, Act 2:38 is "Repent and be Baptised, in the name of Jesus Christ, so that your sins may be forgiven"

The burglar stopped in his tracks. The woman calmly called the police and explained what she had done.

As the officer cuffed the man to take him in, he asked the burglar: 'Why did you just stand there? All the old lady did was yell a scripture to you.'

'Scripture?' replied the burglar. 'She said she had an Axe and Two 38s!'
(GoGoGaugain, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 10:38, Reply)

Sigh
I’m bored of the puns QOTW already and see that this may burn out before the start of next week. So on a totally unrelated note I thought I would tell you about when I went to visit my mate a few months ago.

My ex housemate Rob is an astronomer. It’s actually quite amusing as when we lived together during his college term he showed sod all common sense and I thought he had no chance of achieving anything other than a job at the local Netto stacking shelves.

He managed to do well, ace his course, storm through uni and managed to become part of the British Space program (According to him us Brits do quite a bit when it comes to assisting other countries launch unmanned satellites).

Anywhoo enough of the back-story. I also enjoy looking at the night sky and when Iget the chance (And Rob is allowed) I go along to have a look through high powered telescopes at nearby galaxies- As ai am a member of the public Rob points it and I just look. Yes this may sound dull to some but I love it. This night in question, I looked into the telescope and noticed a small discoloured star that I hadn’t been told about. At first I thought I may have discovered a new asteroid, planet, moon or UFO (I can dream can't I) but Rob was a bit sceptical and went to check up on it.

Turned out that the light source in question was actually a distant star and had been sponsored by some relatives of an Ex Reading keeper who played sometime during the 70’s but died of cancer back in 2003.

Despite being told this I still thought Rob was wrong due to the colour of the object and proposed that it may actually be something else like the light refelcting off a moon.

Rob then looked me sternly in the eye and said to me Mon….that’s not a moon……that’s the Steve Death star.

Two bad (And untrue) ones from me this week so far……sorry
(mon bison powered by magnets, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 10:25, Reply)

This QOTW reminds me of the German spy...
... who was famously arrested* in the bar of The Savoy Hotel in London during the war.

The spy, born and raised in Germany, had spent years perfecting his English accent and mannerisms, and easily passed for a member of high society, enabling him to gain the trust of many with access to state secrets.

His Achilles' heel, perhaps derived from the ordered Teutonic world he had grown up in, was an intense dislike for incompetent service, which led to his unmasking that fateful evening when he took a young lady working at the Air Ministry for a drink at The Savoy.

"Drinks, sir?" asked the waiter.

"Rather! Two glasses of white wine, please".

"Dry?"

"NEIN, DUMPKOPF, ZWEI... err... oops... I suppose that rather lets the cat out of the bag, doesn't it...?"

The Savoy's head of security stepped forward. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to come with me, sir".

"To Scotland Yard?"

"No, to the kitchens. What with there being a war on, and meat coupons so hard to come by, I expect chef will be delighted to have you join us for dinner..."


* May not have been "famously arrested" nor, indeed, have existed
(Capo, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 10:23, 1 reply)

The best pun I've ever read
Was in the paper, I think it was the Scottish Sun, but could be wrong. I was sitting in a greasy spoon in Edinburgh having my breakfast and I saw this work of genius on the back page as the fella opposite me looked at his daily norks.

It was fucking genius, it really was.

Inverness Caledonian Thistle had just beaten the mighty Celtic the previous night.

The headline read:

Super-Caly-Go-Balistic-Celtic-Are-Atrocious

Whoever came up with that one deserves a knighthood.
( SpankyHanky, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 10:23, 6 replies)

hmmm
Whats worse than getting raped by Jack the Ripper?

Getting fingered by Captain Hook.
(NuffMuff fucks shrubbery, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 10:20, Reply)

sigh
Two rolls of black tarmac are sitting in the pub, having a pint and playing crib when the door smashes open and a roll of red tarmac struts in, grabs one of the card players pint and downs it in one, slams the empty pint down before walking up to the landlord and screaming

"give me a fucking pint you cunt"

The tarmac who had his drink stolen is livid and goes to confront the thief when the other stops him and says

"leave it out mate, he's a fucking cyclepath"
(Halfy By light alone, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 10:13, Reply)

*wheels out visual gag*

( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 10:00, Reply)

Best ever pun
Buzzcocs
illing Joe
U Subs
Dead ennedys
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:48, 7 replies)

I wondered why the cricket ball was getting bigger
then it hit me.
(oneinthepink is at your cervix m'lady, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:45, Reply)

Sectarian strife
Most people are aware that fans of the Glasgow football clubs Rangers and Celtic are generally divided along religious grounds, with Rangers fans tending to identify with the Protestant faith and Celtic being Catholic.

Fewer are aware that a similar sitution exists in Manchester amongst Muslims. Fans of Manchester United tend to be Sunni Muslim, whereas fans of Manchester City are Shi'ite and they know they are.
(richardm, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:41, 3 replies)

A packs of M&M's and a bounty bar....
... were sat in the pub explaining to tube of smarties about a fight that had happened in there the night before.

"So Chewits grabbed a stool to defend himself againts maltesers, and doubledecker got stuck into lion bar... it was crazy..."

-Then suddenly - as he remembered something from the fight - the bounty bar's dark chocolate turned white...

"Fuck... Do you remember what happened to Twix?"

"Yeah... shit.. he upset Halls and Strepsil didn't he?"

... Smarties didn't understand the significance...

"What lads.. What does that mean?"

Ashen-faced M&M's and Bounty turned to him and explained... Twix is dead: you should never upset them two.. they're fucking Menthol.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:37, Reply)

Can't remember where I heard this
A chicken walks into a library and struts up to the counter. Very emphatically, it clucks 'Bok'. So the librarian gives it a book and it walks out.
Shortly later it returns with the book in its beak and throws it back on the counter. Even more fiercely, it says 'Bok bok'. So the librarian gives it two more books and it walks out again.
But soon it's back with the books, throws them at the librarian and clucks 'Bok bok bok'. The librarian gives it three more books and it leaves. But this time the librarian is getting curious and follows the chicken out.
He sees it strut down the road with the books in its beak until it comes to a pond. In the middle of the pond is a frog, sitting on a lily pad. And the chicken throws the books to the frog, saying 'Bok, bok, bok'. And the frog chucks them back, saying 'Read it, read it, read it'.
( flatfrog Staring vacantly into space, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:34, 2 replies)

Fair cop, guv...
My friend got arrested for camping. The charge...?

Loitering with intent.
(The Librarian should have returned his books by, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:34, Reply)

Have you heard about the Sri Lankan Cricket team?
They were seven down by lunch time.


Too soon?
(teff, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:30, 2 replies)

On the road
Its a little known fact that I used to be in a band. There were only two of us, my mate Richard and I, but we were making waves until one shortlived and traumatic week out on the road on a very low-key tour. I should just point out that Richard and I were close, we were tight, I always used to refer to him as "my man," because he really was. We were best buddies.

We started at the Colusseum in Coventry and fucking rocked the place. We were pretty tight and incredibly good, if I do say so myself.

The next night we were in Northampton at the Roadmenders. Nice intimate venue. We nailed that one too.

After the gig we're tired and sweaty and lugging all the gear in the back of Richard's van. It was a refrigerated van he'd borrowed from his old man, who was a fishmonger. I recall opening the doors, sliding the crates of fish to one side, and storing my guitar. I was absolutely fucking knackered.

"'Scuse me, mate," said a rather throaty voice. "I could help you out there."

I turned and peered in the direction of the voice. The fella looked big and strong. His arms were the size of tree trunks.

"That would be fucking great, matey," I replied. "We've got Richard's drumkit inside - if you could sort that out I'd really appreciate it."

And this fella wanders off inside the venue. After everything's safely stowed I start talking to the fella. He asks where we're playing tomorrow. I say Wolverhampton. He tells me he hasn't got anything much planned for the next few days so offers to tag along and act as our roadie. I shrug: "Sure, mate - that would be fucking great!"

Only Richard wasn't too pleased. "Err, Spanky... Haven't you noticed something weird about that fella?"

"No, what?"

Richard looks at me as if I'm stupid (which I am, but that's besides the point). "He's got the head of a fucking bull!"

I hold up my finger as if to say 'one moment, please', and I study our new roadie.

"Shit, you're absolutely fucking right, Richard! Head of a bull! Well, fuck me! But he's fucking strong as fuck and we don't have to pay him anything. He told me all he needs is a bale of hay and some oats every night as payment."

Richard isn't too sure, but after a while he comes round to my way of thinking. "Well, ok. But he'll have to stay in the back of the van with the fish and the instruments."

So, we go to Wolverhampton.

Harsh crowd. We went down like the proverbial lead balloon. Oh, well. There's always Manchester the following night.

But Manchester was even worse. They just didn't like our style of music at all. I imagine they're just not ready for an acid rock hillbilly ska combo in those parts just yet.

After the gig things started to get even worse. Our new roadie was acting strange. He didn't talk to us at all. He just scooped up the equipment in his massive arms and stalked off to the van with it. We followed behind, tired, hungry, and just a little pissed off with how things were going. The dream of Top of the Pops was dwindling.

Suddenly, the roadie lets out an almighty roar. He's in the back of the van and the whole thing starts rocking and shaking. Shit! Then crate after crate of refrigerated fish products start flying out the back of the van, crushed beyond recognition. It was like a witnessing a weird snuff movie, for fish.

"You're coming with me to my domain!" screamed the roadie.

Richard and I were routed to the spot, scared shitless.

The roadie leapt from the back of the van and shot a bolt of lightning from his fingertips. The electric charge slammed into Richard's chest and he froze. He'd been turned to stone!

Mother-fuckering-shit!!!

"I'm not pissing about, Spanky - you're coming with me!"

I noticed my feet were getting wet, sort of sticky. I looked over at my mate Richard and realised he was melting and letting off an awful smell. The stone statue that was once my mate was falling apart and puddling in a sticky, stinky pool of goo on the pavement.

"Ok," I breathed. "I'll come with you..."

In a flash we were transported somewhere hot, somewhere with fire, somewhere with loads of fucking demons!

"Now, Spanky - I want you to meet my boss!" said the evil fucking roadie.

From the flames a figure appears. Short, fat, with a tash.

"Aren't you Tosh Lines from the Bill?" I ask.

The short fat bloke nods: "Yes, I am. Well, I was. Now I'm Lord of the Fucking Underworld! We had a vote and everything, it might be hell but we do run a democratic process down here."

"What do you want from me?" I whimper, feeling my trousers fill with hot, sticky shit.

Tosh Lines, I mean, the Ruler of the Fucking Underworld, holds out a hand: "A quid. Give me a quid."

A FUCKING QUID!!!

I open my wallet and hand over the coin. Then the ex-roadie steps forward: "Me too," and he holds out one of his massive palms.

"And me," said another demon, who suddenly appeared.

"I require a pound too," said another.

"Shit! Has anyone got change for a tenner?" I asked.

After a while I was flat broke. It appeared I'd given a quid to every fucker there.

The next morning, I woke in my own bed and wondered if it was all a dream. I rang Richard's house, but there was no answer. I went down stairs and turned the TV on, and nearly shat myself when I saw the news - the liquified remains of a man had been found in Manchester next to a refrigerated fish van...

...it hadn't been a dream...

I sat down and held my head in my hands and tried to figure out the course of events in my addled brain.

Minor tour turns bad, smashes the plaice up, my Dick went rock had and made a sticky stinky mess, and then there was all hell to pay.
( SpankyHanky, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:30, 6 replies)

Russian Nuclear Scientists...
... are instructed to NEVER wear loose boxer-shorts because - the authorities explain - "Chernobyl Fallout"
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:28, Reply)

ummmm, got a few of these...

( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:27, 1 reply)

Fuck off.
A polar bear walks into a pub and sits at the bar.
"What can I get you?" asks the barman.
"A pint of bitter and a pack of................................crisps," says the polar bear.
"Why the big pause?" asks the barman.
"That's ambiguous," says the bear. "Was it a reference to my feet, or to my..............aphasia?"
"Ah," says the barman. "I can see there're no flies on you."
"Of course there aren't. I'm a friggin' polar bear."
"Good grief," says the barman. "A talking polar bear. And a shirty one at that."
"Patronising cunt," says the polar bear as he reaches out, tears off the barman's head, and eats him.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:27, Reply)

I pointed out...
..a stunning Indian woman to my mate when we were in the pub a few weeks back. He didn't think she was that nice.

"I wouldn't touch her with a 10-foot bharji pole" were his exact words
(Monkey the Chicken Twitter: death_stairs, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:26, Reply)

Why does Captain Kirk's wife stink of shit...?
Because William Shatner.
( squirrels emit silent screams has updog, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:12, 2 replies)

I watched that new comedy called 'Flatulence' last night.

I laughed at the punny farts.
(oneinthepink is at your cervix m'lady, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:08, Reply)

One from nipperhood.
A man walks into a restaurant and orders squid.

"Mais Certainement sir," says John-Baptiste the smarmy waiter. "Would you laahk to choose your squeed from ze tank over there?"

"I'll have that little green one with the moustache," says the customer.

"Mais Non!" Exclaims the waiter. "But 'E eez the Chef's Favvoreet! 'E eez so small an' cute and friendlee. Surely Monsuier would prefer one ze the bigger, tastier ones non?"

"No," says the customer. "It's got to be that one".

So the waiter gets the little green squid out and takes him to the chef - Jervaise - who puts him on the chopping block, raises his knife and ... the little squid looks up and smiles, twitching his bushy moustache into a cute fluffeh smile!

"It's no good' says Jervaise. "I can't do it. I'll have to ask Hans who does the washing up. He's a big, tough brute - he'll be able to do the evil deed'

Enter Hans: A massive bastard with tattoos all over his bare arms. Grunting, he takes the knife and pins down the wriggling squid while Jervaise bawls his eyes out in the corner of the kitchen. Hans raises the knife to chop the little squid's head off and ... once again the cute little squid looks up and smiles, wiggling his little tentacles and twitching his little 'tache. So Hans too finds it impossible to kill him, and sobbing with tears of mortified shame he hugs Jervais as they both dissolve into even more howls of mournful crying.

Eventually the waiter is forced to go out to the customer and explain why he can't have that particular squid....

Well you see Monsuieur... Ze Hans that does ze dishes is as soft as Jervaise with ze mild-green furry-lip squid
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Fri 6 Mar 2009, 9:07, 4 replies)

Eric Cantona
Proof of what a cultured bunch we Arsenal fans are.

When Eric Cantona played for Man United, their fans would often come out with the chant, "Ooh-Ah Cantona!, Ooh-Ah Cantona!"

So when they played Arsenal at Highbury during the time he was banned from football after his kung-fu kick at a Crystal Palace fan, I started off a chant, to the same tune, of "Ou est Cantona? Ou est Cantona?".

It ended up with the whole Clock End singing it, barring some very pissed off Man U fans who were probably upset all the way back home to Surrey, and a mention in the following day's paper.
(Capo, Fri 6 Mar 2009, 8:53, 4 replies)