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Thursday humour…
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Defense Attorney: Will you please state your age?
Little Old Lady: I am 86 years old.
Defense Attorney: Will you tell us, in your own words, what happened the night of April 1st?
Little Old Lady: There I was, sitting there in my swing on my front porch on a warm spring evening, when a young man comes creeping up on the porch and sat down beside me.Defense Attorney: Did you know him?
Little Old Lady: No, but he sure was friendly.
Defense Attorney: What happened after he sat down?
Little Old Lady: He started to rub my thigh.
Defense Attorney: Did you stop him? *
Little Old Lady: No, I didn’t stop him.
Defense Attorney: Why not?
Little Old Lady: It felt good. Nobody had done that since my Albert died some 30 years ago. *
Defense Attorney: What happened next?
Little Old Lady: He began to rub my breasts.
Defense Attorney: Did you stop him then?
Little Old Lady: No, I did not stop him.
Defense Attorney: Why not?
Little Old Lady: His rubbing made me feel all alive and excited. I haven’t felt that good in years!
Defense Attorney: What happened next?
Little Old Lady: Well, by then, I was feeling so “spicy” that I just laid down and told him “Take me, young man. Take me now!”
Defense Attorney: Did he take you?
Little Old Lady: Hell, no! He just yelled, “April Fool!” And that’s when I shot him, the little bastard .Here’s another that may warm the cockles after a tough day.
A husband and wife owned a ranch in the good ‘ol US of A. They spent many happy, tough years on this ranch building its reputation and stock. Sadly the husband died and the wife was gutted. Not wanting to let go what her husband had spent many years building the wife quickly sought out a ranch hand to help run the business.
Of the three that applied the best suited was a young, gay 20 year old who seemed committed enough to fulfil the task.
Nearly a month went by working from dawn to dusk to maintain the ranch when the woman suggested the hand take an evening off and go into town, which he gladly took up.
It was nearly 2am when the ranch hand returned, cissed as a poot.
He went into the living room where the woman was sitting there, glistening in the light of the fire, 2 glasses on the table with a bottle of wine in the ice bucket.
“Come here to me” she says. The gay 20 year old ranch hand nervously approached the woman.
“Take off my blouse” she says. The hand gently works through the buttons and the blouse slips to the ground.
“Now, take off my skirt” she whispered. Again, the hand slips his hand under her skirt and pulls slowly to the ground.
“Now my bra”. He then fumbles for the clips and unwraps the womans bra, shaking with nerves.
“Finally, take off my panties”. They slip tantilisingly to the floor leaving nothing but bare flesh exposed.
“Now”, she says, “if I catch you wearing my clothes again, you’re fired!”Old bloke in an old folks’ home. Goes up to a group visiting their great granda and says, “Bet you can’t guess how old I am. Go on guess. Bet you’ll never guess.”
They inspect him and tactfully guess 68 to which he chortles, “No. Told you you’d never guess. 84 I am. Don’t look it do I? 84. Ha. You thought I was 68.”
He goes to another table and there are 4 women playing whist. He goes through the same routine and ambles off, cackling to himself, “84, and I don’t look a day over 65”.
He goes to an old lady in a wheelchair. She’s about 115. He says, “Bet you can’t guess how old I am. Go on guess. Bet you’ll never guess.”
She says in a quavering voice, “Come closer. A wee bit closer. No… closer.” And she unzips his fly and spends 5 minutes groping about at his privates. She says, “84”.
The old bloke is totally deflated and says, as he zips his flies back up, “How did you know that?”
She quavers, “I heard you telling the others”.
In the dark and gloomy room, gazing at the Tarot cards laid out before her, the Tarot reader delivered the bad news; “There is no easy way to tell you this so I’ll just be blunt. Prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a quick, violent and horrible death this year.”
Visibly shaken, the woman stared at the Tarot cards, the psychic’s lined face, then at the single flickering candle, then down at her trembling hands. She took a few deep breaths to try to compose herself. She simply had to know. She met the Tarot reader’s gaze, steadied her voice, and asked: “Will I get away with it?”
:lol: :lol: :lol:
A man in a hot air balloon, realising he was lost, reduced altitude and spotted a woman below. He descended further and shouted to the lady“Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don’t know where I am.”
The woman below replied,
“You’re in a hot air balloon, hovering approximately 30 feet above the ground. You’re between 40 and 41 degrees north latitude and between 59 and 60 degrees west longitude.”
“You must be in IT,” said the balloonist.
“Actually I am,” replied the woman, “How did you know?”
“Well,” answered the balloonist, “everything you have told me is technically correct but I’ve no idea what to make of your information and the fact is I’m still lost. Frankly, you’ve not been much help at all. If anything, you’ve delayed my trip.”
The woman below responded, “You must be in Management.”
“I am,” replied the balloonist, “but how did you know?”
“Well,” said the woman, “you don’t know where you are or where you’re going. You have risen to where you are due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise, which you’ve no idea how to keep, and you expect people beneath you to solve your problems. The fact is you are in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but now, somehow, it’s my fault..”
Hee hee heee hee
Sorry, just looked it up,
its about 350miles south of Nova Scotia,
in the middle of the North Atlantic.From which I can only guess that the management chap is Richard Branson-
Can’t make out who the gardener is-
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