Sean Connery Joke Thread (Vol 11)
Discussion
Little Billy asks his dad for a telly in his room.
Dad reluctantly agrees.
Next day Billy comes downstairs and asks, 'Dad, what's love juice?'
Dad looks horrified and tells Billy all about sex.
Billy just sat there with his mouth open in amazement.
Dad says, 'So what were you watching?'
Billy says, ' Wimbledon .'
Dad reluctantly agrees.
Next day Billy comes downstairs and asks, 'Dad, what's love juice?'
Dad looks horrified and tells Billy all about sex.
Billy just sat there with his mouth open in amazement.
Dad says, 'So what were you watching?'
Billy says, ' Wimbledon .'
Stealthracer said:
That needs rewording, there's no such score as 'Love/Deuce.'
[/kittens]
A rather lame attempt at revisiting this one, I suspect:[/kittens]
My son asked me, "Where does poo come from?" I was a little uncomfortable but gave him an honest explanation. He looked a little perplexed, stared at me in stunned silence for a few seconds then said...
"And Tigger?"
An Australian man was having a coffee and croissants with butter and jam in a cafe when an American tourist, chewing gum, sat down next to him.
The Australian politely ignored the American, who, nevertheless started up a conversation.
The American snapped his gum and said, ‘You Australian folk eat the whole bread?’
The Australian frowned, annoyed with being bothered during his breakfast, and replied, ‘of course.’
The American blew a huge bubble. ‘We don’t. In the States, we only eat what’s inside. The crusts we collect in a container, recycle them, transform them into croissants and sell them to Australia .’ The American had a smirk on his face. The Australian listened in silence.
The American persisted, ‘D’ya eat jam with your bread?’
Sighing, the Australian replied, ‘of course.’
Cracking his gum between his teeth, the American said, ‘We don’t. In the States, we eat fresh fruit for breakfast, then we put all the peels, seeds and the leftovers in containers, recycle them, transform them into jam and sell it to Australia.’
The Australian then asked, ‘Do you have sex in the States?’
The American smiled and said ‘Why of course we do.’
The Australian leaned closer to him and asked, ‘And what do you do with the condoms once you’ve used them?’
‘We throw them away, of course!’
Now it was the Australians turn to smile.
‘We don’t. In Australia , we put them in a container, recycle them, melt them down into chewing gum and sell them to the United States. Why do you think it’s called Wrigley’s?
The Australian politely ignored the American, who, nevertheless started up a conversation.
The American snapped his gum and said, ‘You Australian folk eat the whole bread?’
The Australian frowned, annoyed with being bothered during his breakfast, and replied, ‘of course.’
The American blew a huge bubble. ‘We don’t. In the States, we only eat what’s inside. The crusts we collect in a container, recycle them, transform them into croissants and sell them to Australia .’ The American had a smirk on his face. The Australian listened in silence.
The American persisted, ‘D’ya eat jam with your bread?’
Sighing, the Australian replied, ‘of course.’
Cracking his gum between his teeth, the American said, ‘We don’t. In the States, we eat fresh fruit for breakfast, then we put all the peels, seeds and the leftovers in containers, recycle them, transform them into jam and sell it to Australia.’
The Australian then asked, ‘Do you have sex in the States?’
The American smiled and said ‘Why of course we do.’
The Australian leaned closer to him and asked, ‘And what do you do with the condoms once you’ve used them?’
‘We throw them away, of course!’
Now it was the Australians turn to smile.
‘We don’t. In Australia , we put them in a container, recycle them, melt them down into chewing gum and sell them to the United States. Why do you think it’s called Wrigley’s?
Catweazle said:
Super Sonic said:
Tommo87 said:
Reminds me of a book based the memoirs of a US Cavalry officer.
Thirty Years In The Saddle by Major Bumsore.
Are we doing playground jokes?Thirty Years In The Saddle by Major Bumsore.
A Walk in the Woods, by Theresa Green
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