Anagrammy Winners by Tony Crafter in 2009
All the winning anagrams by Tony Crafter from the 2009 Anagrammy Awards.
GENERAL CATEGORY, January 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
At the vicar's sermon, I think: ~
'Is it over? Thank Christ! Amen.'
SPECIAL CATEGORY, January 2009:
2nd - Tony Crafter with:
WHAT PARENTS THINK
I was one happy man! My gorgeous girlfriend and I had been together for a year, and had decided to be married. There was only one thing bothering me... It was her beautiful younger sister.
My prospective sister-in-law was eighteen, wore tight miniskirts, and generally was bra-less. She would regularly bend down when she was near me, and I'd always get an eye-popping view. It had to be deliberate, because she didn't do it when she was near anybody else.
One day, the sister called and asked me to come over to check the wedding invitations. She was alone when I arrived, and she confessed that she had desires for me that she couldn't suppress. She told me that she wanted me just once before I got married and committed my life to her sister.
Well, I was in such complete shock, I could not think of anything to say!
'I'm going up to my bedroom,' she said huskily. 'If you want one last wild fling, come up and get me.'
I was frozen with shock as I watched her go up the stairs. I stood there a moment, then turned and made a beeline for the door. I opened the door and marched straight towards my car.
Lo and behold, my entire future family was standing outside, all clapping!
With tears in his eyes, my prospective father-in-law hugged me and said, 'Hello! We're so happy that you have passed our little test! We could not ask for a better husband for our daughter. Thanks, and welcome to the family.'
And the moral of this story is:
Always keep your condoms in your car.
=
WHY PARENTS DRINK
The boss of a manufacturing organization could not understand why one of his most steadfast research-staff members was off work but hadn't made any effort to phone in. Needing to sort out a problem with an essential main computer, and in order to resolve the absentee mystery, he rang the employee's home number and was greeted with a child's whisper. 'Hello? '
'Hello, dear ... is your Daddy in?' he asked.
'Yes,' whispered the little voice.
'Can I talk to your Daddy?'
The child whispered, 'No.'
Surprised, and wanting to talk to an adult, the factory boss said, 'Is your Mummy there?'
ÔYes '
'May I talk to your Mummy?'
Again the small voice whispered, ' No '
Needing to find someone to leave a message with, the frustrated boss said, 'Is anyone else around?'
'Yes,' whispered the child, 'a policeman .'
Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee's house, the concerned boss asked, 'May I speak to the policeman?'
'No, he's busy,' whispered the child.
'Busy doing what?'
'Talking to Daddy and Mummy and a fireman,' came the whispered answer.
The boss, now growing aware of a loud noise in the background, asked, urgently, 'What is that weird noise?'
'It's a helicopter,' answered the little voice.
'What's going on there today?' entreated the boss, now very worried.
Again whispering, the child answered, 'The search team just landed a helicopter.'
Alarmed, and a little frustrated, the boss said, 'What are they searching for?'
Still whispering, the young voice replied with a muffled giggle...
'ME .'
MEDIUM LENGTH CATEGORY, February 2009:
eq1st - Tony Crafter with:
Deaths rise in the bushfire conflagrations in Victoria, Australia. =
That evil arsonist has caused horrific burn fatalities in a region.
ANAGRAMMY CHALLENGE CATEGORY, February 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Voltaire: Love is a canvas furnished by Nature and embroidered by imagination =
Love is:
Bette Midler: "A rose."
Branson: "A Virgin."
Hefner: "A bunny."
Cad: "A duty I avoid, ami!"
LONG CATEGORY, February 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Terry checked into a hotel on a business trip and was a bit lonely. He thought of the girls he'd seen advertised in telephone booths when he'd phoned for cabs in the past.
He zipped into a phone booth near the hotel and spotted an ad for a kittenish girl who called herself Demelza; a quite beautiful temptress, bending over in the photo. Demelza had all the right curves in the right places, beautiful long, dark wavy hair; gorgeous, endless legs... well, you get the picture! He noted the number and hurried back to the hotel.
When back in the room Terry figured, 'what the hell, let's give her a call!'
'Hello,' the woman said. God, she sounded sexy!
'Hi, I hear you give great massages and I'd like you to come to my room and give me one... No, wait; let me be totally straight with you. I am in town alone and what I really desire is sex. I want it hard, and I want it hot, and I want it now. Bring implements, kinky toys, leather straps, rubber cucumbers, everything you've got in your bag of tricks. We'll get hot and steamy; tie me up, smear me with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. Be crazy all night. Whatever you want! How does that sound to you?'
She said, 'It sounds fantastic, but you need to press 9 for an outside line '
=
As the No.9 bus stopped and it was her turn to get on, Yvonne soon became aware that her skirt was too tight to allow her leg to come up onto the first step of the bus.
Slightly embarrassed and with a quick smile to the bus driver, she apologised and shyly reached behind her to unzip her skirt a little, hoping this would give her enough slack to lift her leg. She tried to take the step, only to discover that she could not. No way.
So, even more embarrassed, she once again reached behind to unzip her skirt a little more, and for the second time attempted the step.
Once again, to her chagrin, she could not raise her leg high enough. With an apologetic smile to the driver, she again reached behind to unzip a little more but again was unable to make the step.
About this time, a large Texan guy who was standing behind her lifted her up easily by the waist and placed her gently on the step of the bus.
Yvonne went ballistic! She turned to the would-be Samaritan, yelling, 'How dare you touch my body? I don't even know you!'
The Texan smiled convivially and drawled, 'Well ma'am, I hear you, and normally I would agree with you, but after you unzipped my fly three times, I kinda figured we was friends.Õ
SPECIAL CATEGORY, February 2009:
3rd - Tony Crafter with:
She married and had thirteen children. Her husband died.
She married again and had seven more children. Again, the husband died.
Then she remarried and this time had five more children. The husband died.
She finally died after having twenty-five children.
Standing by her coffin, the preacher prayed for her soul. He thanked the good Lord for this very loving woman and said, 'Lord, they are finally together.'
One mourner leaned over and quietly asked her friend, 'Do you think he means her first, second or third husband?'
The friend replied, 'I think he means her legs.'
****
A little boy was overheard praying: 'Lord, if you can't make me a better boy, don't worry about it. I'm having a real good time like I am.'
****
After the christening of his baby brother in church, Tommy cried all the way home in the car.
Tommy's mother asked him three times what was wrong. Finally, the lad sobbed, 'That preacher said he wanted us brought up in a Christian home, and I want to stay with you guys!'
****
A Sunday school teacher asked the children as they were on the way to a church service, 'So, why is it necessary for us to be quiet in church?'
One little girl replied, 'Because people are sleeping.'
****
A mother was preparing pancakes for her two young sons, Matt and Tommy.
The boys began to argue over who should get the first pancake. The mother saw the opportunity for a moral lesson.
'If Jesus were sitting here, He would say, 'Let my brother have that first pancake, I can wait.'
Matt turned to his younger brother and said, 'Tommy, you be Jesus!'
****
=
The vicar asked if anyone in the congregation would like to offer thanks for prayers that had been answered.
A lady rose from the end bench and walked briskly to the church podium.
"Yes, me." she said, "I have a huge 'Thanks'. Three months ago, my dear husband, Harry, had a horrific bike crash and his scrotum was completely crushed. The injuries were horrendous and the doctors didn't know if they'd be able to help him."
Everyone heard a muffled gasp from the men in the congregation as they imagined the horrible pain that Harry must have suffered.
"Harry was in agony, and unable to hug me or the children, as every move caused him terrible pain," she went on. "His disability was heartbreaking. We all prayed fervently as the doctors performed a delicate operation, and it turned out they were able to piece together the remains of Harry's barbarised scrotum, and wrap wire around it to hold it in place."
Again, the men in the congregation were unnerved and squirmed uncomfortably as they imagined the horrible surgery performed on Harry.
"Now," she finished, her voice quavering, Òmy husband is out of the hospital and the doctors say that with time, his crushed scrotum should recover completely. I thank the Lord!"
All the men sighed with relief. The vicar rose and hesitantly asked if anybody else had anything they wished to say.
A man rose and hobbled gingerly to the podium. "Hi," he said, "I'm Harry."
The entire congregation held its breath.
"I just want to tell my wife that the word is sternum."
RUDE CATEGORY, February 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Pissing man =
Missing pan!
LONG CATEGORY, March 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
A tourist called in at an antiques shop whilst on holiday in Avignon, France.
"I want something a bit different to take home with me," he said.
The owner produced a skull.
"But that's only a skull," the customer protested.
"Oh no, monsieur," replied the owner. "That is the skull of Napoleon!"
The impressed customer bought it and left.
The following year the man returned to France and visited the shop again, searching for another rarity. He again requested something 'different'.
The owner produced a skull, claiming it to be that of Napoleon.
The customer protested, "But you sold me Napoleon's skull last year!"
The owner replied, "Ah yes, monsieur, but this one is when he was still a boy!"
=
A doctor telephoned a nearby plumber to complain that his toilet's cistern had developed a fault. "Are you serious?" answered the sulky plumber, "It's three o'clock in the morning! I was asleep!"
"So? Tough luck!" huffed the doctor, in a no-nonsense manner. "In my work, I often get called out to see referrals at all sorts of unusual hours, whether asleep or not. Equally, I now have a problem that I consider needs assessing quickly, so what has the time of day or night got to do with anything?"
Ten minutes later, the plumber turned up and was taken to the bathroom. He lifted the lid of the toilet, threw in two aspirins and flushed it.
"If it's no better in the morning, phone me again," he said.
SPECIAL CATEGORY, March 2009:
3rd - Tony Crafter with:
A husband and wife are travelling by motorcar from Brisbane to Melbourne.
After almost 10 hours on the road, they're far too tired to continue and decide to stop for a rest.
They park outside a nice-looking hotel and book a room, but they only plan to sleep for four hours or so and then get back on the road.
When they wake up and check out four hours later, the desk clerk hands them a bill for $450.
The man explodes and demands to know why the price is so high. He tells the clerk that, although it is a nice hotel, the price is outrageous. And, whilst admitting that the rooms are nice too, they're certainly not worth this ridiculous amount.
When the clerk tells him $450 is their standard rate, the man is insistent on speaking to the Manager.
The Manager appears, listens to him, then explains that the hotel boasts a proper Olympic-sized pool and big conference centre that were available for the husband and wife to use. 'But we didn't use them,' the man complains.
'Well, they were here, and you could've done,' explains the Manager. He goes on to explain that they could have taken in one of their shows, for which the hotel was famous. 'The finest entertainers from New York, Hollywood and Las Vegas perform here,' the Manager says.
'But we didn't go to any of those shows,' complains the man again.
'Well, we have them, and you could've done,' the Manager replies.
No matter what amenity is mentioned, the man replies, 'But we didn't use it!' The officious Manager is unmoved, and eventually the man gives up and agrees to pay. He writes a cheque and gives it to him.
The Manager is surprised when he looks at the cheque. 'I think you've slipped up sir,' he says, 'this cheque's only made out for $50.00.'
'No slip - that figure is correct,' says the man. 'I charged you $400 for sleeping with my wife.'
'But I didn't!' exclaims the Manager.
'Well, too bad,' the man replies. 'She was here and you could've done!'
=
Last Tuesday, we took some friends for a meal at a homely new restaurant called 'Mamma Mia's', and noticed that the waiter who took our order had a spoon in his shirt pocket, which seemed a tad strange.
When the busboy brought our water and utensils, I observed that he also had a spoon in his shirt pocket.
Then I looked around and saw that all the staff had a spoon in their pocket. When the waiter came back, I decided to challenge him. 'Hello! Why the spoon?' I said.
'Ah, well,' he explained, 'the restaurant's owner hired Hallam Consultants to revamp all our procedures. And, after several months of analysis, they concluded that the one most frequently dropped utensil was the common spoon. It represents an average drop frequency of 4.00 spoons per table per hour. If our personnel are more ably prepared, we can reduce the number of trips back to the kitchen and save 14.50 man-hours every shift.'
As luck would have it, I dropped my spoon and he immediately exchanged it for his spare. 'I'll get another one next time I go to the kitchen instead of making an extra trip to get one now,' he smiled cheerfully.
I also noticed that there seemed to be string hanging from his fly.
Gazing around, I saw that all the waiters had the same string hanging from their flies. So, before he walked off, I challenged him again. 'Can you please tell me why you have string ... there?'
'Ha ha; certainly,' he smiled. Then he lowered his voice. 'Not everyone's so observant! You see, the same consulting firm also learned that we can save time in the men's room. By tying the string to the end of our 'thingy', we can haul it out without touching it and remove the need to manually wash our hands, thus shortening the time spent in the men's room by 50.45%.
I asked quietly, 'Excuse me, but, after you get it out, how do you, ahem ... put it back?'
'Well,' he whispered, 'I don't know about the others, but I use the spoon.'
ENTERTAINMENT CATEGORY, April 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Rembrandt - 'The Anatomy Lesson of Dr Nicolaes Tulp'. =
A lot of men sit enthralled by a rotund man's corpse!
PEOPLES NAMES CATEGORY, April 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
The Bronte sisters: Charlotte, Emily and Anne =
Eternal tales by the stoic Northern maidens.
LONG CATEGORY, April 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
A blind cowboy wanders into an all-girl biker bar by mistake. He finds his way to a stool and orders some coffee. After sitting there for a few minutes, he calls to the waiter, "Hey man, you wanna hear a blonde joke?"
The room immediately goes silent.
In a very deep and husky voice, the young woman next to him says, "Because you are blind, I think it is only fair that you should know these five things before you commence that joke, cowboy:
The bartender is a blonde girl with a baseball bat.
The bouncer is a muscular blonde.
I am a six-foot tall, hundred and ninety-nine-pound blonde woman with a black belt in karate.
The lady sitting next to me here is a blonde and is a title-winning professional weightlifter.
The woman standing there to your right is a blonde and is a professional wrestler.
"Now, think about this seriously, cowboy; do you still wanna tell that joke?"
The blind cowboy thinks for a second, shakes his head, and mutters, "No, not if I'm gonna have to explain it five times."
=
A cowboy went into a Starbucks and ordered a coffee.
As he sat stirring his drink, a blonde sat on the stool next to him.
A bit later, she turned to him and asked, 'Are you really a cowboy?'
'Well,' he replied affably, 'all my working life I've been breakin' colts, herdin' steers, goin' off to hoss rodeos, fixin' fences, rearin' calves, doctorin' calves, balin' hay, fixin' flats, doin' jobs on tractors, shootin' the odd rabbit, feedin' my dogs, and battlin' the elements so, yes, I guess I'm really a cowboy.'
The blonde replied, 'I am a lesbian. I spend all day thinking about women. Soon as I get up in the morning, I think about women. When I shower, I think about women. When I watch TV, I think about women. I even think of women when I eat. Hell, it seems just about anything makes me think of women.'
After that, they both sat drinking in silence.
Later a young man sat on a stool next to the pair and said, 'Hey buddy, are you really a cowboy?'
'Hell, I'd always thought I was, 'he retorted, 'but I just found out I'm really a lesbian.'
SPECIAL CATEGORY, April 2009:
3rd - Tony Crafter with:
A Catholic priest, an Indian doctor, a wealthy Chinese businessman and an Australian man were waiting one morning for a particularly slow group of golfers in front of them.
The Aussie fumed, 'What's with those blokes? We must've been waiting twenty minutes at least.'
The Indian doctor added, 'Hmm... I don't know, but I've never seen such incompetent play!'
The Chinese businessman shouted out 'Move on, you men! Time's money!'
The Catholic priest said, 'Oh; here comes George the greens keeper. Let's have a word with him.'
'George?' asked the Catholic priest, 'What's wrong with that group ahead of us? They're somewhat slow, aren't they?'
The greens keeper responded, 'Oh, yes. That's a group of blind fire-fighters. They lost their eyesight saving our clubhouse from an inferno last year, so we let them play for nothing whenever they want to.'
The group fell silent for some moments.
Then the Catholic priest commented, 'That's just so very sad. I think I may have to say an extra-special prayer for those people tonight.'
The Indian doctor nodded and said, 'Yes, that's a very good idea. I intend to contact my ophthalmology colleagues and see if there's anything they can do for them.'
The Chinese businessman added, 'I think I'll donate twenty-thousand dollars to the fire-fighters union, just to honour these unusually brave souls.'
The Aussie said, 'Why can't they f*cking play at night?'
=
Three women die together in an accident and go to heaven.
When they arrive there, St. Peter says, 'We have just one official rule here in heaven: don't step on the ducks!'
So they enter heaven, and sure enough, there are millions of fluffy ducks all over the place. It is almost impossible not to step on a duck, and although they try their best to avoid them, the first woman accidentally steps on one.
Along comes St. Peter with the ugliest man she ever saw. St. Peter chains them together and says, 'Sorry, but your punishment for stepping on a duck is to spend eternity chained to this horribly ugly man!'
The next day, the second woman accidentally steps on a duck and along comes St. Peter, who doesn't miss a thing. With him is another, uglier, oaf of a man. He chains them together with the same admonition as for the first woman.
The third woman has observed all of this and, not wishing to be chained for eternity to an ugly man, is religiously careful where she steps.
She manages to go for months without stepping on a duck. One day St. Peter comes to her with the finest man she has ever laid eyes on ... tall, muscular, handsome, green eyes, shiny fair hair. St. Peter chains them together without saying a word.
'Alleluia!' giggles the joyful woman. 'I wonder what I did to deserve being chained to you for all of eternity?'
The guy says, 'I don't know about you, but I stepped on a duck.
TOPICAL CATEGORY, May 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Katie Price and Peter Andre have now split up. =
It's OK - we prepared the pre-nuptial in advance!
PEOPLES NAMES CATEGORY, May 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
The US author William Sydney Porter ~
used to write triumphally as O Henry.
LONG CATEGORY, May 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
A SHORT LOVE STORY.
A man and woman who'd never met before, and who were both married to other people, found themselves assigned to the same sleeping room on a trans-continental train.
Although decidedly uneasy over having to share the compartment, they were both rather tired and dropped off to sleep quickly...
He was in the upper bunk and she was in the lower bunk.
Shortly after midnight, the man leaned down and gently woke the woman, whispering, "Sorry to bother you, but would you mind reaching into the bedside closet to get me a second blanket? I'm feeling rather cold."
"Oh, but I have a much better idea," she purred. "Just for this one night, let us pretend that we're married to each other."
"Wow! That's a great idea!" he replied delightedly.
"Right," she said. "Find your own f***ing blanket."
After a brief silence, he farted.
THE END
=
A BEDTIME TEASER.
After twenty years of marriage, a couple were lying in bed one night, when the wife felt her husband begin to fondle her in a way he hadn't for some time.
He started to caress her hair and neck, then began to move down. He stroked her shoulders, then smoothly worked his way down over her breasts, stopping just by the lower abdomen area. He then placed a hand on her left arm, moved it titillatingly alongside her breast again, working down over her buttock, leg, calf and feet to the toes. Then, he proceeded to trail it up her inner leg, stopping at the top. He continued in a similar manner on her right side, then suddenly stopped, rolled back and started to watch the TV.
Having become quite aroused, the wife murmured amorously, 'Oh man, that was wonderful! But why did you stop?'
He replied, 'I found the remote'.
?
SPECIAL CATEGORY, May 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
AUSSIE RECRUIT'S LETTER HOME.
This is a text of a letter from an excited young army-recruit from Eromanga, to Mum and Dad. (For those of you not in the know, Eromanga is a small town, west of Quilpie in the far south west of Queensland )
Dear Mum and Dad,
I'm very well. Hope youse are very well too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the Army is better than workin on the farm - tell them to get in bloody quick smart before the jobs are all gone! I wuz a bit slow in settlin in at first, because ya don't have to get outta bed until six in the mornin. But I like sleeping in now, coz all ya gotta do before brekky is make ya bed and polish ya boots and clean off ya uniform. No bloody cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin! Ya haz ta have a shower though, but I've decided it's not too bad, coz there's loadsa hot water and even a light so's ya can see what ya's doing!
At brekky ya get the choices of cereals, fruits and eggs but there's no kangaroo steaks or possum stew like Mum makes. Ya don't get fed again until noon and by that time all the pansy city boys are buggered because we've been on a 'route march' - but, jeez it's only like strollin to the old windmill in the back paddock!
Oh, yeah - this one'll kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep gettin bloody medals for shootin - I dunno why.
~
They reckon I'm good as any top marksman! But the bullseye's as big as a possum's bum and it don't move away and it don't fire back like the Wallmans did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka last year!
All ya gotta do is just make yourself comfy, aim and hit the target. It's a piece of piss! Ya don't even load your cartridges, they come in little boxes, and ya don't have ta steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shootin' truck when ya reload!
Sometimes you gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz they break easy - it's not like fightin with Doug and Phil and Monkey and Joe and Kenny and Wozza all at once like we do at home after the muster.
Turns out I'm not a bad boxer neither. Looks like I am the best we got in our platoon at the moment, and I've only been beat once, by some bloke from the Engineers squad - he's six-foot-four tall and weighs nineteen stone and he's three pick handles across the shoulders. As ya know I'm only five-foot-five, and seven stone wringin' wet, but I fought him till the other blokes carried me off, still punchin, to the boozer.
I can't complain about the Army - tell the lads ta get in the queue quick before word gets around how bloody good it all is.
Well, gotta go now, Mum and Dad.
From your loving daughter,
Sheila
SPECIAL CATEGORY, May 2009:
2nd - Tony Crafter with:
RIGHT SAID FRED.
By
Bernard Cribbins
Right said Fred
Both of us together
One each end and steady as we go
Tried to shift it
Couldn't even lift it
We was getting nowhere
And so
We
Had a cup of tea and
Right said Fred
Give a shout to Charlie
Up comes Charlie from the floor below
After straining
Heaving and complaining
We was getting nowhere
And so
We
Had a cup of tea and
Charlie had a think and he thought we ought
To take off all the handles
And the things wot held the candles
But it did no good
Well I never thought it would
Oh
Right said Fred
Have to take the feet off
To get them feet off wouldn't take a mo
Took its feet off
Even took the seat off
Should have got us somewhere but no!
So Fred said let's have another cup of tea
And we said
Right-o
Oh
Right said Fred
Have to take the door off
Need more space to shift the so-and-so
Had bad twinges
Taking off the hinges
And it got us nowhere
And so
We
Had a cup of tea and
Right said Fred
Have to take the wall down
That there wall is gonna have to go
Took the wall down
Even with it all down
We was getting nowhere
And so
We
Had a cup of tea and
Charlie had a think and he said look Fred
I've got a sort of feeling
If we remove the ceiling
With a rope or two
We could drop the blighter through
Oh
Right said Fred
Climbing up a ladder
With his crowbar gave a mighty blow
Was he in trouble
Half a ton of rubble
Landed on the top of his dome!
So Charlie and me had another cup of tea
And then we
Went home
=
A FALSE GOD OF FAME
The Epic Tale of Fred 'The Shred' Goodwin
Right said Fred,
Got to get ambitious,
Got to build our Banking empire up.
Have to do more
So that we accrue more,
We'll bid low for NatWest,
Then we
Can
Add another Bank.
Ah
Right said Fred
Now we've added NatWest
I've decided that I can be God.
We are rich, ah
And the bigger picture
Is we could be top-dogs,
We have
To
Do another deal ... though
I'm not laughing, now that overstaffing,
Is eroding profits,
I think we ought to stop it,
Ah! Some staff I'll shed,
'Cos I am Fred the Shred!
Ah ...
Right said Fred,
Now we've chopped the deadwood,
How can we continue with the growth? Huh?
Aha! I know!
There's a bank called AMRO;
Do you think an offer's unwise?
But faint heart never won a single thing!
(And so Fred
Did buy).
Ha
Ha! said Fred,
Now we're heading somewhere,
Though there's one thing that we have to do.
Have to shed staff,
Cut them half of one half,
After that, then off we can
Go and
Add
Another Bank.
Ah ...
Right said Fred,
We have to develop,
Have to do another mega-deal.
We are growing,
But the flaws are showing,
Things are getting muddled
And so
We
Have to cut the staff.
Ah, the dirt's hit the fan, and it don't look good,
The situation's global,
They think that it could snowball,
We will offload staff,
Oh ... at least another half.
Oh
Hell! said Fred,
Got to dive for cover,
RBS is going to the dogs.
Feel the tension,
Need to take a pension,
Find a place where I can lie low;
I'll hotfoot off to take up a new career,
And I'll take
The dough!
PEOPLES NAMES CATEGORY, June 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Piers Morgan.
Simon Cowell.
Amanda Holden =
Nerd on panel.
Megalomaniac.
Oh...Miss World!
MEDIUM LENGTH CATEGORY, June 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
ARSE-EMOTICONS:
(_!_) Any normal arse.
(_o_) Some arse that's been around.
(__!__) Oh my! This is one fat arse!
(!) A tight arse.
(_,_) A cute arse.
(_x_) Kiss my arse.
=
(_*_) A sore arse.
(_?_) A dumb-arse.
(_X_) No one enters into *this* arse!
{_!_} A shaky arse.
(_$_) Has money coming out of his arse.
(_E-mc2_) A smart-arse.
(_T_) T-slit? Aye!
LONG CATEGORY, June 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Two women were playing golf. One teed off and watched in horror as her ball headed directly towards two men playing the next hole.
Thwack! The ball hit one of the men, hard.
He immediately clasped his hands together at his groin, then clattered down to the ground, where he writhed around in agony.
The woman quickly ran over to the man, and started to apologize. 'Please let me help.' She said. 'My job is a Physical Therapy Practitioner, and I know that I could relieve the pain somewhat, if you'd just let me.'
'It doesn't matter, I'll be just fine in a few minutes,' the man replied through gritted teeth; but it was quite obvious that he was in agony, lying in the foetal position, hands clutching his groin.
As a result of her persistence, however, he at last let her help. She gently took his hands away and placed them at his side, then unhitched his pants and put both her hands inside. She administered tender and artful massage for several moments and then asked him, 'How does that feel'?
He replied: It feels great, but I still think my thumb's broken!'
=
An eighty-one-year old man was requested by his doctor to have a sperm-count check as one part of his health assessment. The doctor gave the man a jar and said, 'Take this home and bring along a semen sample tomorrow.'
Early the following day the man appeared again in the medic's office and returned the jar, which was as clean and empty as on the previous day!
The doctor asked what had happened, and the ill-at-ease man replied, 'Well, it was like this: First I tried with my right hand, but nothing. Then I tried using my left hand, but still nothing.
'Then I asked my wife to help. She tried with her right hand, then her left hand, still nothing. She tried with her mouth too, first with teeth in, then with her teeth out, but still nothing.
'We even asked Millie from next door, and she tried too, first with both hands, then an armpit. She even tried squeezing it between her knees, but it was still absolutely useless.'
The doctor was appalled. 'Oh, my God! You called out a female neighbour especially?'
The old man replied, 'Yep. None of us could get the jar open.'
SPECIAL CATEGORY, June 2009:
2nd - Tony Crafter with:
Jack worked for the Post Office, and his job was to process all mail that had illegible addresses.
One day, a letter came addressed in shaky writing to God, but with no actual address. He thought he should open it to see what it was about. The letter read:
Dear God,
I am an eighty-three-year-old widow, living on a small pension.
Yesterday somebody stole my purse. It had one hundred pounds in it, which was all the money I had until my next pension payment. This Sunday, it's Christmas Day, and I have invited two friends over for dinner. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with and no family to turn to. You are my only hope. Can you please help me?
Sincerely, Mabel Gibbs
The postal worker was touched. He showed the letter to all his co-workers, and each one quickly dug into his, or her, wallet and came up with a few pounds.
By the time Jack made the rounds, he'd collected ninety-eight pounds, which he put into an envelope and sent to the woman. The rest of the day, all the workers felt a big, warm glow thinking of Mabel and the dinner she'd be able to share with her friends.
Christmas came and went. A few days later, another letter came from Mabel to God. All the workers gathered around while Jack opened the letter.
It read:
Dear God,
I can't thank you enough for what you did for me! Because of your gift of love, I was able to cook a glorious dinner for my friends. We had a very nice day and I told my friends about your wonderful gift.
Sincerely, Mabel Gibbs.
PS: By the way, God, there was two-pounds missing. I think it might have been those bastards at the post office.
=
Three Labradors were sitting in the waiting room of the vet's when they struck up a conversation.
The black Labrador turned to the chocolate Labrador and said, 'So, why are you here?'
The brown Lab replied, 'I'm a pisser. I piss on everything...the sofa, the curtains, the cat, the kids. But the final straw was last night when I pissed in the middle of my owner's bed.'
'So, what is the vet going to do?' said the first Labrador.
'Gonna cut my nuts off, I'm afraid,' came the despondent reply. 'They reckon it may calm me down. I'm devastated!'
'Yeah, that is sad,' said the black Labrador then turned to the yellow one and asked, 'Why are you here?'
The yellow Lab said, 'I'm a digger. I dig under fences, I dig up flowers and trees too! I dig just for the hell of it. When I'm inside my house, I dig up the carpet! But I went way over the line last Friday when I dug an enormous hole in my owner's new settee.'
'So what are they gonna do to you?' the black Lab inquired.
'Looks like I'm losing my nuts too', sniffed the dejected dog.
'How mean!' woofed the yellow Labrador, then turned to the black one and asked, 'Why are you here?'
'I'm a humper,' the black Labrador said... 'I'd hump anything. I'll hump the cat, a pillow, a fluffy toy, the video, wooden fence-posts, whatever. I want to hump everything I see. Yesterday, my woman owner had just got out of the shower and was bending down to dry her toes, and I just could not help myself. I hopped onto her back and started hammering away'
The yellow and chocolate Labradors exchanged sad glances; one of them said... 'So, is it nuts off for you too?'
The black Lab said...'No, I'm here to get my nails clipped!!'
LONG CATEGORY, July 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Feargal and Murphy fancy a pint or two but don't have a lot of cash. Between them, they can only raise the staggering sum of one Euro.
Murphy says 'Hold it! I've got a good idea!'
He goes next door to a butcher's shop and comes back out with one very large sausage.
Feargal exclaims, 'Are you mad? Now we don't have any cash at all!'
Murphy replies, 'Don't worry - just follow me.'
He goes into the pub where he orders two pints of Guinness and two glasses of Jamieson Whisky.
Feargal says 'Now you've lost the plot. Do you know how much trouble we'll be in? We haven't got any cash!'
Murphy smiles. 'Don't worry, I've got a plan. Cheers! '
They down their drinks. Murphy says, 'Right, I'll stick the sausage through my flies and you go down on your knees and put it in your mouth.'
The barman sees them, goes berserk, and throws them out into the street.
They continue to do this, pub after pub, getting drunker and drunker, all for free.
At the tenth pub Feargal declares, 'Gee, I don't think I can do this any more, Murphy. I am drunk and me knees are killing me!'
Murphy says, 'How do you think I feel? I don't even remember which pub I lost the sausage in.'
=
THE DANGERS OF DUCK HUNTING (NOT FUNNY!).
Benny Murphy was enjoying a fine morning on the marsh, hunting ducks, when he felt the urge to take a leak. He walked over to a nearby tree and propped up his gun. Just then a gust of wind blew up, knocked the gun over, and it went off...shooting him in the genitals.
Several hours later, lying flat on his back in a hospital bed, he was approached by a doctor.
'Well Mr Murphy,' murmured the medic, 'I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that, thankfully, you're going to be OK. The damage was local to your groin, and there was very minimal internal damage. Furthermore, we were able to remove all of the buckshot.'
'Oh, OK ...what's the bad news?' Murphy asked...
'The bad news, I'm sorry to say, is that there was some fairly extensive buckshot damage to your penis. I'm going to have to refer you to my sister, Polly.'
'Oh, well I guess that isn't too bad,' murmured Murphy. 'Is your sister a plastic surgeon?'
'Uh... not exactly.' answered the doctor. 'She's a flute player in the local symphony orchestra and she's going to teach you where to put your fingers so you don't piss in your eye.
SPECIAL CATEGORY, July 2009:
2nd - Tony Crafter with:
HER DIARY
Friday, Fifteenth February.
Saw him in the evening and he was acting really strangely. I'd been shopping in the afternoon with the girls and I did turn up a bit late so thought it could be that.
The bar was really crowded and noisy, so I suggested we find somewhere quieter to talk. He was still very detached and preoccupied so I said we should go somewhere nice to eat.
All through dinner he just wasn't himself; he rarely laughed and he did not seem to be paying any attention to me or to what I was saying. I just knew that something was wrong.
He drove me back home and I wondered if he was going to come in; he hesitated but followed. I asked him again if there was anything the matter but he just shook his head and turned the television on.
Then, after about ten minutes of silence, I said that I was going off to bed. I put my arms around him and told him that I loved him deeply. He just sighed and gave a rather sad sort of smile. He did not follow me then, but later he came up, and I was surprised when we made love. He still seemed distant and a trifle cool, and I started to think that he might be going off me, and that perhaps he'd found someone else. Then I cried myself to sleep.
HIS DIARY
Friday, Fifteenth February.
Manchester United lost to Liverpool. Gutted. Got a shag though.
=
THE AUDITORY DILEMMA.
A man believed his wife wasn't hearing quite as well as she used to and thought she may need a hearing aid.
Not sure how to approach the subject, he called the family doctor to get his advice.
The doctor told him there was a simple test he could apply at home to give him (the GP) a better idea about judging the wife's hearing levels.
ÒWhat I suggest you do," said the medical man, "is stand about forty feet away, talk in a normal conversational tone, and the idea is to see if she hears you.
If not, go to about thirty feet, then twenty, and so on, in gradual stages, until you get a response."
That evening the wife was in the kitchen making dinner as usual, while the husband was in the study. He said to himself, "Right, I'm about forty feet away; let's see what happens."
In a normal tone he said, 'Mildred, what's for dinner?"
No reply.
So the husband moved a bit closer - about thirty feet, he judged - and said, "Mildred, what's for dinner?"
Still nothing.
He sidled into the dining room where he was about twenty feet from his spouse and asked, "Mildred, what's for dinner?"
Again, no reply.
He edged up to the kitchen door, just ten feet away...
"Mildred, what's for dinner?"
Still nothing.
He moved up behind her...
"Mildred, what's for dinner?"
"Goddammit, George!" She bellowed, "For the FIFTH frigging time ...CHICKEN!"
SPECIAL CATEGORY, July 2009:
3rd - Tony Crafter with:
FOR EMILY, WHENEVER I MAY FIND HER.
By
Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel
What a dream I had
Pressed in organdy
Clothed in crinoline
Of smoky burgundy
Softer than the rain
I wandered empty streets down
Past the shop displays
I heard cathedral bells
Tripping down the alleyways
As I walked on
And when you ran to me
Your cheeks flushed with the night
We walked on frosted fields
Of juniper and lamplight
I held your hand
And when I awoke
And felt you warm and near
I kissed your honey hair
With my grateful tears
Oh I love you, girl
Oh I love you
=
FOR MY FAMILY IF, IN DEATH, I'M NEVER FOUND.
By
A First World War Soldier.
What a dream I had
In my trench last night,
I was home again,
With you, my bonny wife,
And no war in sight.
We skipped through poppy fields, here
In our wonderland,
I held your lovely face
In my joyful hands,
As I dreamed on.
Kathy, our bairn was there,
Young, fresh and apple-cheeked
In her pale-yellow dress,
We all played hide and seek, there
In the pure night...
Now, rudely I wake
To sounds of shells and guns,
I hear the yell ... "Attack!"
And I start to run
Out into the dark;
Oh, God save my world!
TOPICAL CATEGORY, August 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
More wildfires rage around Athens =
Flames worsen in dire drought area.
OTHER NAMES CATEGORY, August 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
California State =
Arnie fails to act.
LONG CATEGORY, August 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
THE NATIONAL HEALTH SERVICE TODAY.
The telephone rang and the lady of the house answered.
"Hi, can I speak to Mrs. Denver, please."
"Yes, speaking"
"Mrs. Denver, this is Doctor Jefferies at High Dudgeon County Hospital. We've got an unusual situation here. When your husband's doctor sent his blood sample to the laboratory last week, a sample from another Mr. Denver arrived also, and we are uncertain which one belongs to your husband. Frankly, either way the results are not good."
"What do you mean?" Mrs. Denver asked uneasily.
"Well, one of the specimens tested positive for Alzheimer's Disease and the other one tested positive for HIV. Unfortunately, we can't tell which one is which."
"Good grief! That is dreadful! Can't you do the test again?" queried Mrs.Denver.
"Normally we could do it again, but the National Health Service will only fund these expensive tests once."
"So, what am I supposed to do now?" she said.
"The NHS Helpdesk recommend that you drop your husband off somewhere in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don't sleep with him."
=
NO MORE TOMORROWS
A solemn Stephen Stein returned one day from a visit to his doctor and told his wife, Cass, that the doctor had said he'd only twenty-four hours to live.
Wiping away her tears, he asked her to make love with him.
Of course, she said 'yes' and they made vibrant, passionate love.
Six hours later, Stephen approached her once more and said, 'Cass, I've only eighteen hours left now, maybe we could, well... make love again?'
Cass agreed and they made love.
Later, Stephen was getting into bed when he realized he now had only eight hours left. He touched Cass's shoulder and said, 'Honey? Just one more time before I quit this life permanently?' She said yes, then afterwards she rolled over and fell asleep.
Stephen, however, heard the solemn ticking of the clock, and tossed and turned until the time was down to only four hours.
He tapped his wife on the shoulder to wake her up.
'Cass, I've only four hours left. Can we...?'
His wife sat up abruptly, turned to him and said, 'Listen Steve, I‰Ûªm not being funny, but...
... I have to get up in the morning and you don't.'
SPECIAL CATEGORY, August 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
THE HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN
There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one
My mother was a tailor
She sewed my new blue jeans
My father was a gamblin' man
Down in New Orleans
Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and trunk
And the only time he's satisfied
Is when he's on a drunk
(Organ solo)
Oh mother tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the House of the Rising Sun
Well, I got one foot on the platform
The other foot on the train
I'm goin' back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain
Well, there is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one
=
NINNIES AND NONENTITIES
There is a house in Windsor, Berks
A noble sight to see!
And it's been the mansion for many a long year,
Of a Royal Family.
The mother rules a kingdom,
Oh, England is its name;
The father is a moaning man,
And he's a Royal pain.
Now the only thing with kingdoms is,
They cost a lot to run,
So, we're the ones who foot the bill,
While those ninnies have the fun.
(ease-in solo )
Ma'am, now let me tell you,
About the credit crunch,
And how we dwell in penury,
As you folks eat your prawns for lunch.
Oh, I got one hand round a pistol,
The gun's held to my brain,
The mortgage lenders have foreclosed,
My job's gone down the drain.
That mansion-house in Windsor, Berks
Is where I wanna be,
A Royal union rules within,
And we're nonentities.
SPECIAL CATEGORY, August 2009:
2nd - Tony Crafter with:
COPY OF A LETTER FROM A GENTLEMAN IN MELBOURNE
AFTER RECEIVING A FINAL INCOME TAX DEMAND
Dear Sirs,
Your superheated letter arrived this morning in an open envelope with a five-penny stamp on it, and it would have given the boy and myself much pleasure had it not revived in us certain melancholy reflections of what has passed before.
You say you thought the account could've been settled long ago and you could not understand why it hadn't been. Well, here is the reason.
In nineteen-sixty-four I bought a sawmill on credit.
In nineteen-sixty-five I bought a team of horses, a timber wagon, two ponies, a terrier, a double shotgun and two razor-backed pigs, all on credit.
In nineteen-sixty-six the bloody mill was burnt to the ground leaving not one solitary thing. One of the ponies died and I lent the other to some stupid bastard who starved the poor bugger to death. Then I joined the church.
In 'sixty-seven my father died and my brother was strung up for raping a pensioner. A tramp seduced my daughter and I had to pay the bastard seventy quid to stop him becoming one of my relatives.
In 'sixty-eight my lad contracted mumps which spread to his balls and the poor boy had to be castrated to save his life. Later, we all went fishing and the rotten boat overturned, drowning two of my lads, neither being the castrated one.
In late 'sixty-nine my missus ran away with a sheep shearer and left me with twins as a souvenir. Then it was necessary to have a housekeeper, so I married her to keep my expenses down, but it was a hell of a job getting her pregnant.
I consulted the doctor and he advised me to create some sort of excitement at the crucial moment. So, that night I took my shotgun to bed with me and, at the time I guessed was right, I leaned out of bed and fired the gun through the window. As a result, the wife shit the bed, I ruptured myself and the next morning I found I'd shot my best cow.
In nineteen-seventy someone cut the nuts off my prize bull. I was really buggered, so I took to drink. I carried on until all I had left was my pocket watch and a weak bladder. Winding the watch and running for a piss kept me very busy for some time.
After a year I took heart again and I bought a manure spreader, a reaper, a tractor and a car, all on credit as usual. The floods came and washed the bloody lot away. My wife caught VD from a travelling salesman and my boy died through wiping his arse on a possum skin that was infected. To cap it all some useless bastard mated my cow with a broken down old bull.
It surprises me to see in your missive that there will be trouble if I fail to pay up. Trouble! If you can think of anything I've missed, I'd love to know about it.
Sirs; trying to get money out of me will be like trying to poke butter up a porcupine's pisser with a red hot needle.
I am praying that a shower of skunk shit will pass your way and I hope the centre of it is over you and the bunch of useless bastards in your office who sent me this final demand.
Yours for more credit.
CHRISTOPHER C. COLLCUTT
=
[Based on a genuine reply from the Inland Revenue, and added-to, amended and fumbled-with to make the anagram work!]
Dear Mr Babbing,
I am writing to express our thanks for your prompt reply to our last communication, and to answer some of the added points you raised. I will address them, as always, in order.
Firstly, Mr Babbing, we must take issue with your description of our last as a "damned begging letter". It might perhaps more properly be referred to as a "tax demand". This is how we, here at the Inland Revenue, have always, for reasons of accuracy, traditionally referred to such documents.
And secondly, your frustration at our adding to the "endless stream of crapulent whining and panhandling vomited daily through the letterbox on to the doormat" has been noted. However, whilst we have not seen the other letters to which you refer we would prudently suggest that their being from "pauper councils, pirate banking houses and pissant gas-mongerers" might indicate that your decision to "stuff them next to the toilet in case of emergency" is, at best, a tad ill-advised. In common with my own organisation, it's unlikely that the senders of these letters do see you as a "lackwit bumpkin" or, indeed, a "sodding charity". More likely they see you as a human citizen of Great Britain, with an added responsibility to contribute to the safe upkeep of the nation as a whole.
Which brings me to my next point. Whilst there may be a whit of truth in your adamant assertion that the taxes you pay "go to shore up the canker-blighted, toppling folly that is the Public Services", a moment's rudimentary reckoning ought to disabuse you of the notion that the government in any way expects you to "stump up for the whole damned party" yourself. And the estimates you provided for the Chancellor's disbursement of the funds levied by taxation, whilst inventive, are, in fairness, a bit off the mark. Less than you imagine is spent on "junkets for Bunterish lickspittles" and "dancing whores" whilst far more than you have accounted for is distributed to, for example, "that box-ticking facade of a university system."
And, a couple of added technical points in answer to direct queries:
1.The reason we don't simply write "Muggins" instead of "Mr Babbing" on the envelope has to do with the vagaries of the postal system:
2.You can be assured that "sucking the very marrow from those with nothing left to give" has never been deemed normal practice because, even if the Personal Tax Allowance didn't render it irrelevant, the sheer medical logistics involved would make it financially unviable.
We hope this has helped and, in the meantime (whilst we would not in any way wish to influence your decision one way or the other, Mr Babbing) we ought to point out that even if you did choose to "give the whole frigging jamboree up and go and live in India" you would still owe us the money. Please send it by Friday.
Yours sincerely,
ABDUL Z. WADDA- AL- NAWAB.
Head Manager, Customer Relations.
(Bad Debt Dept).
LONG CATEGORY, September 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Two men are sitting next to each other at a bar.
After a while, one looks at the other and says, "Hearing your accent, do I detect that you are from Ireland."
"I am indeed!" concedes the second man.
"So am I!" exclaims the first man. "And just where in Ireland might ye come from?"
The other replies, "I come from Dublin."
The first man cries, "Me too! Ah, 'tis a small world! What street did ye live in?"
"I lived in a place called McCleary Street, off the old central area of the city."
"Amazing! So did I! And what school would ye have gone to, by chance'?"
"St. Mary's of course."
"As did I!" cries the first man. "And when did ye graduate?"
"Well, no lie; I graduated back in nineteen-eighty-eight."
"I can hardly believe we've each chanced to be sat in the same bar tonight," chuckles the first man. "Can ye believe that I myself, Feargel, graduated from St. Mary's that same year! Ah, the good Lord is smiling down happily upon us."
At the same time, another man walks up to the bar to order a beer.
The publican walks over shaking his head and huffs, "It's gonna be a long night tonight."
"Why?" asks the customer.
"The Clancy twins are pissed again."
=
A chicken farmer called into his local bar, sat down next to a woman and ordered a glass of their best champagne.
The woman perked up on hearing this, and she said, 'Hey, how about that? I've just ordered a glass of their best champagne, too!'
'What a coincidence,' the farmer said, 'The truth of the matter is, it's a very special day for me, so I'm celebrating.'
'That sure is interesting!" exclaimed the woman. "This is a special day for me too; so I'm also celebrating!'
'Isn't that an unusual coincidence?!' retorted the man. As they clinked their glasses together, the farmer asked her, 'So, what is it that you're celebrating? '
'Well, my husband and I have been trying to have a child for a very long time, and today my gynaecologist told me that I'm pregnant!'
'Well, that's another coincidence,' said the man. 'I'm a chicken farmer and for years all my usual hens have been infertile but today they're finally laying fertilized eggs.'
'Wow, that's great!' said the woman. 'So... how did your chickens eventually become fertile?'
'Oh, I used a different cock,' he replied.
The woman smiled and said, 'Hmm, what a coincidence...'
GENERAL CATEGORY, October 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Racial tolerance =
Alliance creator.
MEDIUM LENGTH CATEGORY, October 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Walt Disney's 'Pinocchio' was a feature-film and a cartoon. =
A classic story, and what a wonderful piece of animation!
SPECIAL CATEGORY, October 2009:
2nd - Tony Crafter with:
THE DISOBEDIENT WIFE.
A police officer pulls over a speeding car, and says, 'I clocked you exceeding the speed limit at ninety miles per hour, sir.'
The driver says, 'Hell, officer I had it on cruise control at sixty, perhaps that radar gun needs calibrating?'
Not looking up from her knitting the man's wife says: 'Now don't be silly dear, you know this car does not have cruise control.'
As the officer is writing out the ticket, the driver looks at his wife and hisses, 'Martha, can you please keep that big mouth shut for a change?'
The wife smiles demurely and replies, 'And you should be thankful your radar detector went off when it did.'
As the officer makes out the second ticket for the illegal radar detector, the man glares at his wife and says through clenched teeth, 'Dammit, woman, why don't you just keep your stupid mouth shut?'
The officer frowns and says, 'Oh yes, and I notice that you are not wearing your seat belt, sir. That is an automatic seventy-five pound fine.'
The man says, 'Oh... well, see officer, I had it on, but I had to take it off when you pulled me over so I could get my licence out of my wallet.'
The wife says, 'Now, now dear, we both know full well that you definitely didn't have the seat belt on. And, indeed, you never wear it when you're driving.'
Then, while the police officer is writing out the third ticket the man turns to his wife again and barks, 'OH, HELL, MARTHA! WHY DON'T YOU JUST SHUT THE F*** UP!?'
The officer looks at the woman and asks, 'Does your husband always talk to you this way, madam?'
'Only when he's pissed.'
=
THE OBEDIENT WIFE.
There was a successful man, who'd worked all his life, saved up lots of cash, and was really miserly when it came to money.
Just before he died, he told his servile wife, "After I've gone, I want you to go and round up all my money, and put it in the coffin with my body so I can take it to the afterlife."
So he got his wife to promise with all her heart, that after he died, she would definitely not forget to put the money in the coffin. "I won't," she assured him.
Soon afterwards, he passed away.
The day before the funeral, he lay stretched out, lifeless, in a velvet-lined coffin. His sorrowful wife sat nearby - dressed in black - with her trusty friend, Katy, sitting next to her. When they'd paid their respects, and the funeral undertakers were getting ready to close the coffin, the wife said, "Sorry... could you wait for just a minute?"
She produced a small wooden box, which she carried over and put in the casket. Then the undertakers' assistants locked the coffin and rolled it away.
"My goodness, Ursula!" her friend said, "Surely you weren't foolish enough to put all of that money in with your husband's body?"
Ursula replied, "Look, Katy, you know I'm not an unscrupulous person, I'm a good, giving Christian; I couldn't go back on my word. I promised that I was going to put the money in the casket with him."
"Sorry... you mean to tell me you've actually put the cash in the casket?" said Katy.
"I have," said the wife. "I got it all together as asked, put it into my bank account, and wrote him a check... If he can cash it, then he can have it."
ENTERTAINMENT CATEGORY, November 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Rembrandt's 'The Anatomy Lesson of Dr Nicolaes Tulp'. =
A lot of minor students enthralled by a man's corpse!
PEOPLES NAMES CATEGORY, November 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
The American film star Leonardo DiCaprio =
Hailed as cool performer in Titanic drama.
OTHER NAMES CATEGORY, November 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
Visiting Caesar's Palace ~
is a practice in Las Vegas.
MEDIUM LENGTH CATEGORY, November 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
(Old friends, sat side by side):
"My wife said, 'What are you doing today, Gus?'
"I said, 'Nothin'.' =
"So my wife said, 'Dear God! But you also did nothing yesterday!'
"I said, 'I wasn't finished'."
LONG CATEGORY, November 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
THE IRISH PROSTITUTE
An Irish daughter had not been home for well over a year. On her return, her Father scolded her. 'Well Colleen? Where have ye been all this time? Why did ye not write to us, not even one line? And why didn't ye call? Can't ye understand what ye put yer old Mother through?'
The girl, crying, replied, 'Sniff, sniff...Dad...I became a... Miami prostitute...'
'What!!?' he bellowed. 'Get out of here, ye shameless sinning harlot! You're a disgrace to this good old Catholic family.'
'OK, Dad, as ye wish. I just came back to give mum this highly expensive fur coat, and these deeds to a ten-bedroom mansion, plus an eight-million-dollar savings certificate. Also, I've got me little brother Ian this gold Rolex. And for you Daddy, I got the sparkling new Porsche limited edition convertible that's parked outside plus a membership to the Queens Country Club... (takes a quick breath)... and an invitation for ye all to spend New Years Eve on board me yacht in St Tropez and...'
'Now what was it ye said that ye had become?' said the dad.
Girl, crying again, 'Sniff, sniff...a prostitute, father.'
'Oh! Be Jesus! Ye scared me half to death, girl! I thought ye said a Protestant! Come here and give yer old Dad a big hug.'
=
CHARLES AND CAMILLA'S WEDDING NIGHT.
Camilla had bought a new pair of shoes for her wedding day, but they got increasingly tighter as the day wore on.
That night after the festivities were finished, and she and Charles had retired back to their room, Camilla flopped onto the bed and said, 'Would you please remove my shoes darling. One's feet are just killing one.'
Ever obedient, the Prince of Wales seized her right shoe and started to attack it with vigour but, despite his efforts, it just wouldn't budge.
'Harder!' yelled Camilla. 'Harder!'
Charles yelled back, 'Yes, my darling, I'm trying! But, you see, it's so bloody tight!'
'Come on give it your all!' she cried out, even louder.
When it was finally off, Charles uttered a loud groan, and Camilla exclaimed, 'Yes! Yes! That feels so good.'
In their bedroom next door, The Queen turned to Prince Philip and said stiffly, 'You see - I told you she must be a virgin, with a face like that!'
Meantime, back in the other bedroom, a perspiring Charles was trying to remove the other shoe when he cried out 'Oh my god, this one's an even tighter fit!'
At that point, Prince Philip turned to the Queen and said, 'That's my boy: Once a navy man, always a navy man!'
SPECIAL CATEGORY, November 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
VINCENT
by
Don McLean
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
{Refrain}
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
{Refrain}
For they could not love you
But still, your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could've told you, Vincent
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you
Starry, Starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will.
=
PARIS TUNNEL HYMN
Final Torment Of A Princess.
Starry Paris night,
In that wrecked Mercedes car,
A body, broken, torn and marred,
Whose gaze rests on the dirty tunnel walls.
Frenzy at the crash,
Strangers shout and the cameras flash,
To film her lying in that smash,
As the light forever fades in those blue eyes.
{Refrain}
The Royals never knew,
What you tried to say to them,
How you suffered, lonely, shy, in vain,
And they all ignored your pain,
They did not listen, no they weren't aware,
Maybe they didn't care.
Classy, classy sight,
In the Ritz, you looked divine,
You didn't know Death's grand design
Was lurking in that sad French tunnel's gloom.
How it stunned the world,
When they heard that fateful news,
No one could believe it true,
No, not our Princess, no, it cannot be.
{Refrain}
Yet they strived to save you,
They did all they could do,
But, though you'd shone so very bright
On that sorry, sorry night,
You lost your life and we lost something too,
Now I guess we all know Princess,
There'll never be another soul as beautiful as you.
Starry, sorry night,
Why did fate not let you live?
Why should one with more to give,
Be snuffed out like a candle in the wind?
So, what's life all about?
If soon over in a twist of fate?
From being there, wrong time, wrong place,
With no eternal plan to light the way?
Will we know the truth?
Why that driver lost control?
Did that man's penchant for strong alcohol
Take its harsh and senseless toll?
Now Princess you've found immortality,
For all eternity.
SPECIAL CATEGORY, November 2009:
eq2nd - Tony Crafter with:
A woman brought her very limp-looking pet duck Jojo into her local veterinary surgery. As she placed her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened very carefully to the bird's chest.
After a minute or two, the veterinary surgeon shook his head sadly and said, "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid your duck has passed away."
The distraught woman wailed, "Oh, no, not my poor Jojo! How sure are you?"
"How sure am I? I am very sure. The duck is definitely dead," replied the vet.
"Ah, but how can you be so certain?" she protested. "I mean you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He may just be snoozing or in a deep coma or something."
The surgeon rolled his eyes as he turned and left the room.
He came back a few minutes later with a brown Labrador Retriever. As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked up at the vet with very gloomy eyes and shook his head. The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room.
A few minutes later he returned with a ginger cat. The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to webbed-feet. Then the cat sat back on his haunches, shook his head, meowed and strolled out of the room.
The vet looked at the woman and sighed, "Well, I am sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a deceased duck."
He went to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he gave to the woman.
The bird's owner, still in shock, looked at the bill. "Good heavens! $1500.00?" she gasped, "$1500.00 just to tell me my poor Jojo has died?"
The vet shrugged, "I'm sorry.If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have only been $50.00, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it's now $1500.00."
=
A man was walking along the strip in Las Vegas and a knockout looking hooker caught his eye.
He struck up a conversation and eventually asked, 'How much do you charge?'
The hooker replied, 'It starts at $500 for a hand-job.'
'$500 dollars?!' spluttered the man. 'Hell, no hand-job's worth that kind of money!'
The hooker said, 'Do you see that Denny's on the corner?'
'Yes.'
'Do you see that Denny's a block further down?'
'Yes.'
'And beyond that, do you see that third Denny's?'
'Yes.'
'Well,' added the hooker, smiling, 'I own them. And, I own them because I give a hand-job that's worth $500.'
The man said, 'What the hell? You only live once. I'll give it a try.'
They retired to a motel.
A short time later, slumped on the bed, the man admitted that he'd just had the hand-job of a lifetime, worth every cent of $500. He was so amazed, he said, 'I suppose a blow-job's $1,000?'
The hooker replied, '$1,500.'
'That's daft! I'd never pay that for a blow-job.'
The hooker murmured, 'Step over to the window, buddy.'
'See that casino across the street? I own it outright. And I own it because I give a blow-job that's worth every cent of $1,500.'
The man, still basking in the memory of that terrific hand-job, decided to put off the tempting new car for a further year, and said, 'Ok, dammit, I'm up for it!'
Ten minutes later, he sat on the bed more amazed than before. He could scarcely believe it but, he concurred that he'd truly got his money's worth.
He decided to dip into the retirement savings for just one more unforgettable experience. He asked the hooker, 'How much for some pussy?'
The hooker replied, 'Come over here, there's something I want you to see.
'D'you see Las Vegas laid out before us? All those vivid lights, splendid gambling palaces, and lustrous show places?'
'Dammit!' the man said, in awe, 'You own the whole goddamn city?'
No,' the hooker replied, 'but I would if I had a pussy.'
LONG CATEGORY, December 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
WOULD YOU REMARRY?
A husband and his wife are settled in bed reading, when the wife glances over at him and asks him the eternal question....
WIFE: "Pete; what would you do if I were to die? Would you remarry?"
HUSBAND: "What? Absolutely not, Cathy!"
WIFE: "How come? Don't you enjoy being married?"
HUSBAND: "Well... yes. Of course I do."
WIFE: "Then why wouldn't you remarry? "
HUSBAND: "Sheesh! Well... all right, yes, maybe I would then."
WIFE: "You would?" (with hurt expression).
HUSBAND: (makes audible groan)
WIFE: "Would you live in this house?"
HUSBAND: "Well, yes, I suppose so; it's a great house."
~
WIFE: "Would you sleep in our bed?"
HUSBAND: "Where else would we sleep?"
WIFE: "Would you let her drive my car?"
HUSBAND: "Maybe - it is nearly new."
WIFE: "Would you replace my photos with hers?"
HUSBAND: "That would seem like a natural thing to do... ooh, this is quite an interrogation!"
WIFE: "Yeah. Sorry. I am an idiot! But... would you give her my rare jewelry too?"
HUSBAND: "No, I am sure she'd want her own."
WIFE: "Would you take her golfing with you?
HUSBAND: "Yes, they are always extra-good times."
WIFE: "And would she use my clubs?
HUSBAND: "No, she's left-handed."
WIFE: -- silence --
HUSBAND: "Shit."
SPECIAL CATEGORY, December 2009:
1st - Tony Crafter with:
THE TIGER
By
William Blake.
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
=
BATTERED TIGER.
(That Hanky-Panky, Lawn-Stud Yank).
Tiger, Tiger, in a whirl,
Had a fair way with the girls,
Now that game has run its course,
He's in the rough - maybe divorce?
What a swinging time he'd had!
What a ball! Hah! What a cad!
Swedish wife, blonde, bright and trim,
Why wasn't that enough for him?
Wife is harsh, the man's in tatters,
Lost the trophy that most matters,
And every birdie that he met's
An albatross around his neck.
From far and wide they all appear,
Strewth! How many are there here?
One, two, three, four... huh?... nine ten!
When did he find time for them?
Ruffled Tiger, shrewd yet green,
The aftermath he hadn't seen,
Nor remembered he was wedded
When each pretty bird he bedded.
Zesty Tiger, in a whirl,
Had a fair way with the girls,
All that effort to be Master,
Frittered, shattered, what disaster.
SPECIAL CATEGORY, December 2009:
3rd - Tony Crafter with:
Dear Granddaughter,
The other day I went up to our local Christian bookstore and saw a 'Honk If You Love Jesus' bumper sticker. I was feeling particularly sassy that day because I'd just come from a really rousing choir performance, followed by the most memorable prayer meeting. So, I bought a sticker and put it on my bumper.
Mamma mia! Am I glad I did, what an uplifting experience followed next!
I was stopped at a red light at this busy intersection, momentarily lost in thought about the Lord and how great He is, and didn't see that the lights had changed.
It's a good thing someone else loves Jesus because if that man hadn't honked, I wouldn't have noticed. I found that lots of people love Jesus!
While I was sitting there, the man behind started honking like crazy, and then leant out of his window and screamed, 'For the love of God, woman, go! Jesus Christ, GO!'
What an exuberant cheerleader he was for Jesus!
Everyone started honking! I just leaned out my window and started waving and smiling at all those loving people.
I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love!
There must have been a man from Florida amongst them all because I heard him yell something about a sunny beach. I saw another man waving in a funny way with only his middle finger stuck up in the air. I asked my grandson (your cousin Norman) in the back seat what that meant. Norman said it was probably some Hawaiian good luck sign or something.
Well, I have never met anyone from Hawaii, so I leaned out the window and gave him the sign right back!
Norman burst out laughing. Yes, even he was enjoying this religious experience!
A couple of the people were so caught up in the glory of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me. I bet they wanted to pray or ask what church I went to, but that's when I saw the lights had changed. So I waved at all my brothers and sisters and, grinning, drove on across the intersection.
I noticed that I was the only car to get through the intersection before the lights changed again and felt kind of sad that I had to leave them after all the love we'd shared. So I slowed the car down, leaned out the window and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I drove off.
Praise our Lord for such wonderful folks!
Will write again soon,
Love from,
Grandmomma.
=
IDIOTS? NO; MEN ARE JUST JOLLIER!
IDIOTIC NICKNAMES
If Viv, Kathy and Vicki go out for lunch, they will call each other Viv, Kathy and Vicki.
If Dick, David and John go out, they will jokily refer to each other as, Earwigo, Coyotebreath and Testicle.
EATING OUT/DIVIDING
When the bill arrives, Dick, David and John will readily throw in twenty dollars each, even though it is only for thirty-three dollars eighty. None of them will have anything smaller and will avoid admitting they want change back.
When the girls receive their bill, out come the pocket calculators and it is divided exactly.
MONEY
A man will pay two dollars for a one-dollar item that he needs.
A woman will pay one dollar for a two-dollar item that she does not need but it's on sale.
BATHROOM IDEOLOGY
A man has six things in his bathroom: a toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving gel, a good razor, soap, and a towel.
The number of things in the average woman's bathroom is about three hundred and thirty-eight. A guy would not be able to identify more than twenty of these.
ARGUMENTS
A woman has the last word in any argument.
Anything a man says after that is adjudged to be the start of a new argument.
THE FUTURE
A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.
A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.
SUCCESS
A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.
A successful woman is one who can find such a man.
GETTING MARRIED
A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he does not.
A man marries a woman expecting that she won't change, but she does.
DRESSING UP
A woman will get dressed up to go shopping, give the plants a watering, empty the trash, cook, answer the phone, read a book, and get the mail.
A guy will get dressed up for weddings and funerals.
LOOKING GOOD OVERNIGHT
Men wake up looking just as good as when they went to bed.
Women somehow deteriorate during the night.
CHILDREN
Ah, the joy of children! A woman is dedicated to, and knows all about, her children. She knows about their dentist appointments, romances, best friends, favourite foods, secret fears, hopes, ideas and dreams.
A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house.
FAULTFINDING - THOUGHT FOR THE DAY
A married man should forget his mistakes. There is no use in two people remembering the same thing!
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