Sean Connery Joke Thread (Vol 7)
Discussion
Missing wife
Distraught husband filing a report on his missing wife:
Husband: I lost my wife (Misty), she went shopping & still has not reached home yet.
Inspector: What is her height?
Husband: I never noticed.
Inspector: Slim or healthy?
Husband: Not slim, can be healthy.
Inspector: Color of eyes?
Husband: Never noticed.
Inspector: Color of hair ?
Husband: Changes according to the season.
Inspector: What was she wearing?
Husband: Pant suit or dress..... I don't remember exactly.
Inspector: Was she going in a car???
Husband: yes.
Inspector: tell me the number, name & color of the car ? . . . . . ..
Husband: Black Audi A8 with supercharged 3.0 litre V6 engine generating 333 horse power teamed with an eight-speed tiptronic automatic transmission with manual mode. And it has full LED headlights, which use light emitting diodes for all light functions and has a very thin scratch on the front left door. ?.and then the husband started crying...
Inspector: Don't worry sir, we will find your car...
Distraught husband filing a report on his missing wife:
Husband: I lost my wife (Misty), she went shopping & still has not reached home yet.
Inspector: What is her height?
Husband: I never noticed.
Inspector: Slim or healthy?
Husband: Not slim, can be healthy.
Inspector: Color of eyes?
Husband: Never noticed.
Inspector: Color of hair ?
Husband: Changes according to the season.
Inspector: What was she wearing?
Husband: Pant suit or dress..... I don't remember exactly.
Inspector: Was she going in a car???
Husband: yes.
Inspector: tell me the number, name & color of the car ? . . . . . ..
Husband: Black Audi A8 with supercharged 3.0 litre V6 engine generating 333 horse power teamed with an eight-speed tiptronic automatic transmission with manual mode. And it has full LED headlights, which use light emitting diodes for all light functions and has a very thin scratch on the front left door. ?.and then the husband started crying...
Inspector: Don't worry sir, we will find your car...
Have I ever told you about my mate Steve. I haven't seen him for about 10years unfortunately, and the last time I saw him was very interesting.
But first a bit of background on Steve. Steve loved tractors, really loved 'em. He liked Combine Harvesters and diggers and Land Rovers, but he was fanatical about tractors. He used to travel all over the world buying tractor memorabilia. A John Deere wheel from Canada, a Massey Ferguson gear stick from Australia.
Unfortunately, things changed whilst Steve was visiting a farm in Shropshire looking to purchase a Haynes manual from 1923 Vickers tractor. He met Daisy, the farmers wife. Steve and Daisy started a torrid affair, until Daisy's husband found out. He chucked her out, she moved in with Steve, and immediately started to rule the roost. First of all she cut back on his socialising. Then she banned him from going to the footy. Finally, she started on his tractor collection.
About a year after Daisy had emasculated Steve, I bumped into him on the street outside a pub. (Now remember this is a good ten years ago, if not more). We agreed to have a quick pint and a catch up. Sitting inside the Lounge it was good to catch up and put the world to rights. I told Steve about my new job and the car I was hoping to buy; Steve told me all about how his old tractor room was now Daisy's sewing room and how he wishes he could somehow rediscover his masculinity. Over the second pint of ale I commented on how I couldn't wait for the smoking ban to start, it was like I was sitting in a thick tobacco-laden fog. Steve, with a hint of a smile said watch this. He pursed his lips and inhaled. All of a sudden the air was clear, no smoke, no smell, just clean fresh air. Steve legged it outside, where he blew out the contents of his lungs and sat down.
"That was the single most amazing thing I've ever seen" I say, "how did you do it?"
All of a sudden, with a twinkle in his eye, Steve replied "That's simple. I'm an ex-tractor fan"
But first a bit of background on Steve. Steve loved tractors, really loved 'em. He liked Combine Harvesters and diggers and Land Rovers, but he was fanatical about tractors. He used to travel all over the world buying tractor memorabilia. A John Deere wheel from Canada, a Massey Ferguson gear stick from Australia.
Unfortunately, things changed whilst Steve was visiting a farm in Shropshire looking to purchase a Haynes manual from 1923 Vickers tractor. He met Daisy, the farmers wife. Steve and Daisy started a torrid affair, until Daisy's husband found out. He chucked her out, she moved in with Steve, and immediately started to rule the roost. First of all she cut back on his socialising. Then she banned him from going to the footy. Finally, she started on his tractor collection.
About a year after Daisy had emasculated Steve, I bumped into him on the street outside a pub. (Now remember this is a good ten years ago, if not more). We agreed to have a quick pint and a catch up. Sitting inside the Lounge it was good to catch up and put the world to rights. I told Steve about my new job and the car I was hoping to buy; Steve told me all about how his old tractor room was now Daisy's sewing room and how he wishes he could somehow rediscover his masculinity. Over the second pint of ale I commented on how I couldn't wait for the smoking ban to start, it was like I was sitting in a thick tobacco-laden fog. Steve, with a hint of a smile said watch this. He pursed his lips and inhaled. All of a sudden the air was clear, no smoke, no smell, just clean fresh air. Steve legged it outside, where he blew out the contents of his lungs and sat down.
"That was the single most amazing thing I've ever seen" I say, "how did you do it?"
All of a sudden, with a twinkle in his eye, Steve replied "That's simple. I'm an ex-tractor fan"
Chicken said:
Have I ever told you about my mate Steve. I haven't seen him for about 10years unfortunately, and the last time I saw him was very interesting.
But first a bit of background on Steve. Steve loved tractors, really loved 'em. He liked Combine Harvesters and diggers and Land Rovers, but he was fanatical about tractors. He used to travel all over the world buying tractor memorabilia. A John Deere wheel from Canada, a Massey Ferguson gear stick from Australia.
Unfortunately, things changed whilst Steve was visiting a farm in Shropshire looking to purchase a Haynes manual from 1923 Vickers tractor. He met Daisy, the farmers wife. Steve and Daisy started a torrid affair, until Daisy's husband found out. He chucked her out, she moved in with Steve, and immediately started to rule the roost. First of all she cut back on his socialising. Then she banned him from going to the footy. Finally, she started on his tractor collection.
About a year after Daisy had emasculated Steve, I bumped into him on the street outside a pub. (Now remember this is a good ten years ago, if not more). We agreed to have a quick pint and a catch up. Sitting inside the Lounge it was good to catch up and put the world to rights. I told Steve about my new job and the car I was hoping to buy; Steve told me all about how his old tractor room was now Daisy's sewing room and how he wishes he could somehow rediscover his masculinity. Over the second pint of ale I commented on how I couldn't wait for the smoking ban to start, it was like I was sitting in a thick tobacco-laden fog. Steve, with a hint of a smile said watch this. He pursed his lips and inhaled. All of a sudden the air was clear, no smoke, no smell, just clean fresh air. Steve legged it outside, where he blew out the contents of his lungs and sat down.
"That was the single most amazing thing I've ever seen" I say, "how did you do it?"
All of a sudden, with a twinkle in his eye, Steve replied "That's simple. I'm an ex-tractor fan"
Groan!But first a bit of background on Steve. Steve loved tractors, really loved 'em. He liked Combine Harvesters and diggers and Land Rovers, but he was fanatical about tractors. He used to travel all over the world buying tractor memorabilia. A John Deere wheel from Canada, a Massey Ferguson gear stick from Australia.
Unfortunately, things changed whilst Steve was visiting a farm in Shropshire looking to purchase a Haynes manual from 1923 Vickers tractor. He met Daisy, the farmers wife. Steve and Daisy started a torrid affair, until Daisy's husband found out. He chucked her out, she moved in with Steve, and immediately started to rule the roost. First of all she cut back on his socialising. Then she banned him from going to the footy. Finally, she started on his tractor collection.
About a year after Daisy had emasculated Steve, I bumped into him on the street outside a pub. (Now remember this is a good ten years ago, if not more). We agreed to have a quick pint and a catch up. Sitting inside the Lounge it was good to catch up and put the world to rights. I told Steve about my new job and the car I was hoping to buy; Steve told me all about how his old tractor room was now Daisy's sewing room and how he wishes he could somehow rediscover his masculinity. Over the second pint of ale I commented on how I couldn't wait for the smoking ban to start, it was like I was sitting in a thick tobacco-laden fog. Steve, with a hint of a smile said watch this. He pursed his lips and inhaled. All of a sudden the air was clear, no smoke, no smell, just clean fresh air. Steve legged it outside, where he blew out the contents of his lungs and sat down.
"That was the single most amazing thing I've ever seen" I say, "how did you do it?"
All of a sudden, with a twinkle in his eye, Steve replied "That's simple. I'm an ex-tractor fan"
An elderly Scotsman lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite pan fried drop scones wafting up the stairs..
He gathered his remaining strength and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs..
With laboured breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favourite scones.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his devoted Scottish wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His aged and withered hand trembled towards a scone at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked by his wife with a wooden spoon .......
she said...............
"F**k off', they're for the funeral."
He gathered his remaining strength and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs..
With laboured breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favourite scones.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his devoted Scottish wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His aged and withered hand trembled towards a scone at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked by his wife with a wooden spoon .......
she said...............
"F**k off', they're for the funeral."
Man goes into a bar with a shoe box under his arm.
Barman, can I have a pint on the slate.
Bugger off.
Well I have a rabbit in this shoe box who plays the piano, is that worth a pint.
Barman says "OK"
So the man taps on the box, and a rabbit comes out pushing a grand piano, sits down and starts playing.
Barman says "That's fantastic, have a pint on the house"
Many pints later, the man (who is well pickled) asks for another.
Barman says "Listen mate, I am just about fed up with your rabbit so bugger off"
Man says "Listen I have a mouse in the shoe box who sings like Frank Sinartra, is that worth another pint"
"OK" says the barman.
So the man taps on the shoe box and out comes a mouse in a tux and starts singing just like Sinatra.
So the barman gives him a few more, by now the guy is well phished, eventually the barman says to him "Listen pal, I'll give you a grand for that lot"
Man says "No way, for you £100"
So the transactions takes place and the man is staggering out when a man who is sitting by the door and has witnessed the whole scenario says "Mate, that barman robbed you blind, that act is worth thousands"
Man says in a very slurred voice "Listen, I saw him off, that act is worth nothing"
"Why"
"It's the mouse, he can't sing"
"But I heard him" says the man.
The other guy says "Naw, it's the rabbit, he's a ventriloquist"
Barman, can I have a pint on the slate.
Bugger off.
Well I have a rabbit in this shoe box who plays the piano, is that worth a pint.
Barman says "OK"
So the man taps on the box, and a rabbit comes out pushing a grand piano, sits down and starts playing.
Barman says "That's fantastic, have a pint on the house"
Many pints later, the man (who is well pickled) asks for another.
Barman says "Listen mate, I am just about fed up with your rabbit so bugger off"
Man says "Listen I have a mouse in the shoe box who sings like Frank Sinartra, is that worth another pint"
"OK" says the barman.
So the man taps on the shoe box and out comes a mouse in a tux and starts singing just like Sinatra.
So the barman gives him a few more, by now the guy is well phished, eventually the barman says to him "Listen pal, I'll give you a grand for that lot"
Man says "No way, for you £100"
So the transactions takes place and the man is staggering out when a man who is sitting by the door and has witnessed the whole scenario says "Mate, that barman robbed you blind, that act is worth thousands"
Man says in a very slurred voice "Listen, I saw him off, that act is worth nothing"
"Why"
"It's the mouse, he can't sing"
"But I heard him" says the man.
The other guy says "Naw, it's the rabbit, he's a ventriloquist"
Miss Beatrice, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was admired for sweetness and kindness to all. One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room. She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea.
As he sat facing her old pump organ, the young minister noticed a cut-glass bowl sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water. In the water floated, of all things, a condom! When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist. "Miss Beatrice", he said, "I wonder if you would tell me about this?" pointing to the bowl. "Oh, yes" she replied, "isn't it wonderful?
I was walking through the park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease. Do you know I haven't had the flu all winter!" The pastor fainted.
As he sat facing her old pump organ, the young minister noticed a cut-glass bowl sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water. In the water floated, of all things, a condom! When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist. "Miss Beatrice", he said, "I wonder if you would tell me about this?" pointing to the bowl. "Oh, yes" she replied, "isn't it wonderful?
I was walking through the park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease. Do you know I haven't had the flu all winter!" The pastor fainted.
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