steve
My neighbours listen to great music.
Whether they like it or not…
I go to the toilet for two reasons…
Number one and number two.
What’s a Forklift?
Food, usually…
In my teenage years when trying to make friends with alcohol, it was often referred to as ‘the big white telephone’…I’ll let you envisage the rest.
Hahaahahaahaha
No mattter how hard you shouted Hughie never replied.
talking to God…
Technicolor yawn.
riding the porcelain Honda
The England squad visited an orphanage in Russia one day.
“It’s heartbreaking to see their sad little faces with no hope” said Vladimir, aged 6.
Our teenage version of that was ‘talking to Ralph on the big white phone’. Some intercontinental community, eh?
It was “shouting for Ruth” where I come from, not helped by the fact that a good friend and I both had girlfriends called Ruth at the time.
Ruuuuuuuth….
Lovely joke …will be enjoyed by my two granddaughters who are currently obsessed with the Brontës , Jane Austen and Anthony Trollope .
And, in the land of Billy Connolly, it was shouting for Hughie and Ralph into the big white telephone.
Ah, Happy Days.
That Brontë joke got a mention back in September, post #3581. Very good it is too.
My Maths teacher hated negative numbers.
Turns out he’d stop at nothing to avoid them.
And my Physics teacher told me I had potential.
Then he pushed me down the stairs.
That’s shocking, what a difference!
I’ve never got the point of decimals