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Tuesday, 19 January 2016


My funniest joke or my worst joke - my only joke (!) was bequeathed to me by my dad and he may have been telling it since the mid 70s.

You need this joke.
If, like me, you are depressed by the government paying policemen to rape left wing women (consent is surely void as the women were being conned by the state). You may be confused because that same government (which bailed out bankers) cannot find money to support steel operators, Britain’s last substantial industry.

Despite a brief tangle with stand up comedy, joke telling per se (sorry – everyone seems to be adding ‘per se’ to their sentences at the moment) is not my forte. A fact you will become au fait with if you reach the end of this post. Ok.

I’ve been in the habit of telling this particular gag to my family at intervals of a couple or three years either because I forgot I told them or I hoped they’d forgotten it and would be merrily entertained by my stored wit. As my dad may also have said, ‘if wit were shit you’d be constipated’. But God loves a tryer apparently.

It may be that you are depressed that London already passed its 2016 pollution limits and we’re not out of January. You might also have read the news that up to 1 in 5 recycle bins ends up in landfill. I won’t mention the fact again that we are all knee deep in dog excrement most of the time. Well done local government.

You may be in denial, blocking the horrible reality that oil prices are a game that the super wealthy play with a precious global resource that we should be weaning ourselves off, having long ago lost their connection with ordinary people.

In the UK you may be catatonic with the knowledge that our PM is not a leader but a figurehead while the opposition leader is a collective manifestation of wishful thinking. In the US, you will be whistling loudly and trying to distract from the reality that your most well-meaning president finds himself vilified because he’s trying to reduce the incidents of teenagers shooting their schoolmates. And you also have the headache personified of D Trump (see three blogs down - 167) who just keeps on and on and on not shutting up.

As local services go down the drain you may wonder why local councillors get paid – at all. In the old days when they actually had direct responsibility for e.g. education, and services were not all farmed out to private companies they did not get paid.
You may be confused as to why G4S still gets government contracts despite yet more evidence (do we need more) of bad management, poor practice and the violent treatment of vulnerable people. But then why does BT still get government contracts despite being incompetent and crap?

So – for you – here is the joke my dad used to love and which I also loved when he told it. And I apologise if you are not familiar with the relevant proverb.
A man went to his doctor complaining of a problem with his bottom
Dr. –What exactly seems to be the trouble?
Patient. – Whenever I fart my bottom makes a weird noise
Dr. – What kind of noise?
Patient. – “Honda Honda”
(The Dr examines the patient and pronounces the mystery solved)
Dr. – Ah yes – It’s quite obvious. The problem is caused by an abscess.
(The patient was a little sceptical)
Patient. – Why would an abscess cause such a strange noise?
Dr. – Surely you’ve heard, ‘abscess makes the fart go Honda’.


Again – if you need my psychology explained try this

1 comment:

  1. Have to say that's an awful joke! awesome...I meant awesome ;)