1996 is on the phoneIt wants its joke back
(
Fenris temporary Lazarus, Wed 16 Mar 2005, 10:30,
archived)
Oof. Harsh.As punishment, have an excessively long rubbish joke:
Prince Charles was making a state visit to the little known colony of Khaziland.
He arrived at their dusty ruined old airport and was greeted by the King of Khaziland.
The king was surprised by Prince Charles' hat. It was a long furry orange thing with a big tail going down his back and two ears and a mouth on top. However, he decided it would be better not to mention the stupid looking hat, as he did not want to upset their first VIP visitor in living memory.
Instead he greeted the Prince nicely. "Prince Charles", he said, "we are honoured to have you in our humble country. We thought that the west had forgotten about us."
Not wishing to offend the king, quick thinking Charles replied "Of course we haven't forgotten about the great Khaziland! It is still the talk of many an English gentleman".
And so this went on for the full fortnight of the Prince's visit. No matter where they went or what they did, the King did not mention Charles' hat (which really did make him look ridiculous, and which he wore every day), and Charles tried to convince the King that Khaziland really was important to England (which it was not. Indeed most Englishmen had never heard of Khaziland).
Finally, on the last day of the trip, the King could resist no longer. He had to know what had possessed the heir to the throne to make such a fashion faux pas. "I hope you don't mind me asking", he said, "but I could not help but notice your unusual hat. Why did you choose to wear it to visit us?"
"Ah", began Charles, "well, before I set off to come here, my mother, the Queen, phoned. I explained that I was just off to the airport to go to Khaziland. "Khaziland?" she said, "Wear the fox hat.""
(
baldmonkey a frothy foul-smelling vaginal discharge, Wed 16 Mar 2005, 10:33,
archived)
There was a little boy by the name of Billy.Billy was an ordinary little boy who did ordinary little boy things, like playing, eating, bathing, destroying things, and going to school. One day, when Billy went down to the bus stop to meet the bus to go to school, he found all of his friends huddled around in a little group, talking about the Purple Wombat.
Being a little boy, Billy was curious. So he asked them, "What's the Purple Wombat?"
"You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" the children exclaimed disgustedly. For the rest of the morning, they would not go near Billy, always standing far away and staring at him. Then the bus came. Billy, confused, got on the bus along with the rest of the children.
"Hey, Mister Bus Driver!" one of the chldren shouted. "Billy doesn't know what the Purple Wombat is!"
The bus driver turned around abruptly. "You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" he said in disbelief. He ordered Billy to sit in the very back of the bus, all by himself.
Eventually, they got to school, and Billy got off the bus and went to class. Class proceeded normally; the students did the pledge of allegiance and worked on their multiplication tables for a while. Then the teacher led them into a unit on geography. Billy was not really paying attention, but he heard the teacher mention something about the Purple Wombat.
Billy's hand shot up, and, when the teacher called on him, Billy asked, "Teacher, what's the Purple Wombat?"
"You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" the teacher cried in alarm, "Get yourself to the principal's office right now, young man. No, no buts -- march!"
So Billy headed down the long, dark, frightening hallway to the principal's office. He slowly opened the large, heavy door, and timidly entered the room behind it. There, at a large, imposing desk, sat the principal. The principal was a hulking man, balding, with a thin mustache. He spoke in a deep baritone voice. He was enough to frighten little boys like Billy who had been sent to his office almost to tears.
"Well, Billy," he began slowly. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Mr. Principal, I just don't know what's going on today. Everyone's been acting weird, and they're all treating me really badly. Like teacher just sent me to you and stuff."
"Now, Billy, I'm here to help you. I'm the princi-Pal, after all. Heh heh. Can you tell me why everyone's acting so strangely?"
"It's because I don't know what some stupid Purple Wombat is."
"What? You don't know what the Purple Wombat is? That's it. I am calling your mother, young man. Consider yourself suspended."
The principal threw Billy out of his office and told him to go home. Billy, crying, began the long walk home. When he got there, his mother was standing in the doorway waiting for him.
"Billy!" she called, sobbing, "I was so worried about you! What happened?"
"Mom," Billy cried, "Everyone was being mean to me and I had to sit in the back of the bus all by myself and the teacher sent me to the principal's office and the principal suspended me, all because I don't know what the Purple Wombat is!"
"What? You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" Billy's mother shrieked. "Go to your room this minute. Go! Just wait until your father gets home!"
So Billy marched up the stairs and into his room. He collapsed on the bed, crying. After some amount of time, he heard a car pull in and some doors shutting. His father was home. He could hear his parents talking downstairs but didn't know what they were saying. Then he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and his door opened.
"Billy," his father began in that lecturing-father tone, "Your mother says you've been acting badly lately. Would you like to tell me what you've done?"
"Dad, I haven't done anything! I just don't know what the Purple Wombat is!"
"You...don't know what the Purple Wombat is. Well, in that case, you can just stay in this room all night, mister. And forget about inner!"
Billy's father slammed the door and stormed off. Billy collapsed on his bed, crying his eyes out. He spent the next several hours that way -- lying there, crying, wishing he would wake up.
Then, in the middle of the night, he heard a voice. It said: "Billy. I am the Purple Wombat, Billy."
Billy sat up with a start. He looked around the room, trying to find the source of the voice, but he could not.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Find me, Billy."
It was coming from out the window. So Billy got up, put his shoes on, opened the window, and climbed out on to the roof.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat."
Billy jumped down off the roof and followed the voice down the road. He got to the edge of a wood.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Follow me, Billy."
The voice was coming from inside the wood. It was very dark and very frightening, but Billy didn't care. He had to find out what the Purple Wombat was. So, bravely, he entered the wood.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Keep going, Billy."
Billy kept going into the wood. He could hardly see anything, and he kept falling down and walking into things and hurting himself. But he kept going, driven by a need to find this enigma that kept calling his name.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. This way, Billy."
Eventually, Billy emerged from the wood. He was on the shore of the town lake.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. I'm out here, Billy."
It was coming from out across the lake. Billy got one of the small rowboats from the dock, untied it, and rowed out. Since he was only a small boy, it was very difficult. But he had
to find out what the Purple Wombat was.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Row, Billy."
The voice was coming from across the lake. Billy doubled his effort, and the boat began to move a little faster. When he was about half way across the lake, he heard: "Billy, I am the Purple Wombat. I'm up here, Billy."
It was coming from directly above him. Billy stopped rowing and stood up to look for it. The boat tipped over, dumping him in the lake. Billy didn't know how to swim, so he drowned.
Moral: Don't stand up in a boat.
(, Wed 16 Mar 2005, 10:37, archived)
Two men were walking through the desertThey were nearly out of water when they saw three tents in the distance. The hurried over to see if they could get some water. In the first tent they were told, "I'm sorry we only have trifle." In the second tent, again, "I'm sorry we only have trifle." They went into the third tent and again asked for water only to be told, "I'm sorry we only sell trifle." As they walked on, one turned to the other and said, "That was a trifle bazaar."
(
just mike, Wed 16 Mar 2005, 10:51,
archived)
Psst!First tent has jelly, second has custard, third has sponge fingers. You gave the punchline away too soon.
/constructive criticism
(
monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Wed 16 Mar 2005, 10:53,
archived)
you are correct, I will make a note of that*makes a note of that*
EDIT: Do you want to hear the story about the broken pencil? No? oh well, there's no point to it anyway
(
just mike, Wed 16 Mar 2005, 10:55,
archived)
I've been channelling the spirit of Bob Monkhouse.(
monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Wed 16 Mar 2005, 10:58,
archived)
HmmmYes, I'd say it was worth the read.
(
Shoosh up your lips Not state-funded, Wed 16 Mar 2005, 10:43,
archived)
Ha!*forgets about inner*
What is the Purple Wombat, anyway? I'll bet that everybody else knows...
*worries*
(
monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Wed 16 Mar 2005, 10:47,
archived)
You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?*stands far away and stares*
(
just mike, Wed 16 Mar 2005, 10:49,
archived)
*snort*That's mad me laugh FAR more than it ever should've done...
(
Benny Tied To A Tree As much use as Anne Frank's drumkit, Wed 16 Mar 2005, 10:48,
archived)