Sean Connery Joke Thread (Vol 11)
Discussion
The drunk gets up from the bar to take a leak.
A few minutes later, a loud blood-curdling scream is heard coming from the bathroom. And then a few minutes after that, another loud scream reverberates through the bar.
The bartender goes into the bathroom to investigate what the drunk person is screaming about.
“What are you screaming about in here? You're scaring all of my customers,” said the barman.
“I'm just sitting here on the toilet and every time I try to flush, something comes up and squeezes the hell out of my ba||s.”
With that, the bartender opens up the door, looks in and says, “you idiot, you're sitting on the mop bucket.”
A few minutes later, a loud blood-curdling scream is heard coming from the bathroom. And then a few minutes after that, another loud scream reverberates through the bar.
The bartender goes into the bathroom to investigate what the drunk person is screaming about.
“What are you screaming about in here? You're scaring all of my customers,” said the barman.
“I'm just sitting here on the toilet and every time I try to flush, something comes up and squeezes the hell out of my ba||s.”
With that, the bartender opens up the door, looks in and says, “you idiot, you're sitting on the mop bucket.”
ks,A young family moved into a new house in a quiet little village, right next to a patch of overgrown land.
One crisp autumn morning, a crew of builders, turned up in their hi-vis vests and hard hats to start putting up a new detached house on the empty plot.
Naturally, all the racket and action piqued the curiosity of the family's four-year-old daughter, Emily, who took a keen interest in all the activity next door.
She spent much of each day with her nose pressed against the fence, watching the workers.
Eventually, the building crew—a decent, good-humoured bunch of lads—took a shine to the little girl and adopted her as a sort of site mascot.
They would have a proper natter with her and let her sit on a stack of breeze blocks with them while they took their tea break and scoffed their butties.
They’d give her little, harmless jobs to do here and there, like moving a pile of old bricks or tidying up some offcuts of wood, just to make her feel important.
At the end of the first week, the foreman, a chap named Terry, presented her with a "pay packet" containing £10.
Emily took her earnings home to her Mum, Sarah, who suggested she take her £10 "pay" down to the local Post Office and start a savings account.
The lady behind the counter at the Post Office, Mrs. Davies, was duly impressed and asked Emily how she managed to earn her very own pay packet at such an early age.
Emily proudly replied, "I worked last week with a real building crew putting up the new house next to us."
"My word, you little poppet," said Mrs. Davies, smiling, "and will you be working on the same house again this week, too?"
Emily shrugged, slightly frustrated, and replied, "I will, if those knobs at Travis Perkins ever deliver the bloody plasterboard!"
One crisp autumn morning, a crew of builders, turned up in their hi-vis vests and hard hats to start putting up a new detached house on the empty plot.
Naturally, all the racket and action piqued the curiosity of the family's four-year-old daughter, Emily, who took a keen interest in all the activity next door.
She spent much of each day with her nose pressed against the fence, watching the workers.
Eventually, the building crew—a decent, good-humoured bunch of lads—took a shine to the little girl and adopted her as a sort of site mascot.
They would have a proper natter with her and let her sit on a stack of breeze blocks with them while they took their tea break and scoffed their butties.
They’d give her little, harmless jobs to do here and there, like moving a pile of old bricks or tidying up some offcuts of wood, just to make her feel important.
At the end of the first week, the foreman, a chap named Terry, presented her with a "pay packet" containing £10.
Emily took her earnings home to her Mum, Sarah, who suggested she take her £10 "pay" down to the local Post Office and start a savings account.
The lady behind the counter at the Post Office, Mrs. Davies, was duly impressed and asked Emily how she managed to earn her very own pay packet at such an early age.
Emily proudly replied, "I worked last week with a real building crew putting up the new house next to us."
"My word, you little poppet," said Mrs. Davies, smiling, "and will you be working on the same house again this week, too?"
Emily shrugged, slightly frustrated, and replied, "I will, if those knobs at Travis Perkins ever deliver the bloody plasterboard!"
I came home from work to find my wife painting the spare bedroom she wants to use as her home gym.
I asked what she was doing and she told me her plan. Then I asked, "why are you wearing your ski parka over your fur coat?"
She picked up the can of paint and pointed to the instructions and read this to me, "for best results use two coats."
I asked what she was doing and she told me her plan. Then I asked, "why are you wearing your ski parka over your fur coat?"
She picked up the can of paint and pointed to the instructions and read this to me, "for best results use two coats."
vaud said:
I came home from work to find my wife painting the spare bedroom she wants to use as her home gym.
I asked what she was doing and she told me her plan. Then I asked, "why are you wearing your ski parka over your fur coat?"
She picked up the can of paint and pointed to the instructions and read this to me, "for best results use two coats."
That's better than the Freud and Cosby one - I thank you.I asked what she was doing and she told me her plan. Then I asked, "why are you wearing your ski parka over your fur coat?"
She picked up the can of paint and pointed to the instructions and read this to me, "for best results use two coats."
phazed said:
Google says-Whether Yoko Ono's music is "bad" is highly subjective, with most listeners finding her avant-garde, experimental style jarring and unpleasant, characterized by screaming and lack of traditional melody, leading to widespread criticism and association with her role in the Beatles' breakup.
Alpacaman said:
phazed said:
Google says-Whether Yoko Ono's music is "bad" is highly subjective, with most listeners finding her avant-garde, experimental style jarring and unpleasant, characterized by screaming and lack of traditional melody, leading to widespread criticism and association with her role in the Beatles' breakup.
Alpacaman said:
phazed said:
Google says-Whether Yoko Ono's music is "bad" is highly subjective, with most listeners finding her avant-garde, experimental style jarring and unpleasant, characterized by screaming and lack of traditional melody, leading to widespread criticism and association with her role in the Beatles' breakup.
Milkyway said:
Alpacaman said:
phazed said:
Google says-Whether Yoko Ono's music is "bad" is highly subjective, with most listeners finding her avant-garde, experimental style jarring and unpleasant, characterized by screaming and lack of traditional melody, leading to widespread criticism and association with her role in the Beatles' breakup.
A young couple was married and celebrated their first night together, doing what newlyweds do, time and time again, all night long.
Morning comes, and the groom goes into the bathroom but finds no towel when he emerges from the shower.
He asks the bride to please bring one from the bedroom.
When she gets to the bathroom door, he opens the door, exposing his body for the first time to his bride, where she sees all of him well.
Her eyes went up and down, and at about midway, they stopped and stared, and she asked shyly,
“What’s that?”, pointing to a small part of his anatomy.
He, also being shy, thought for a minute and then said,
“Well, that’s what we had so much fun with last night.”
She, in amazement, asked,
“Is that all we have left?”
Morning comes, and the groom goes into the bathroom but finds no towel when he emerges from the shower.
He asks the bride to please bring one from the bedroom.
When she gets to the bathroom door, he opens the door, exposing his body for the first time to his bride, where she sees all of him well.
Her eyes went up and down, and at about midway, they stopped and stared, and she asked shyly,
“What’s that?”, pointing to a small part of his anatomy.
He, also being shy, thought for a minute and then said,
“Well, that’s what we had so much fun with last night.”
She, in amazement, asked,
“Is that all we have left?”
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