A little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp,
"Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep wittle wabbits?"
And the shopkeeper gets down on his knees, so that he's on her level,
and asks, "Do you want a wittle white wabby or a soft and fuwwy black
wabby or maybe one like that cute wittle brown wabby over there?"
She in turn puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a
quiet voice, "I don't fink my pyfon weally gives a phuck!"
Robin Nilsson skrev:Kanske har cirkulerat lika länge som glassbilen,
barn brukar vara kreativa
inte lika länge som de har funnits med tanke på att på 70-talet och en bit in på 80-talet (om mitt minne inte sviker mig) så fanns inte melodin utan de hade en stor j-a bjällra som klingade när de kom. De fick ta bort den då den lät precis lika som när stora lastbilar skulle backa...
Även denna är saxad från Aircraft Resource Center:
This is a bricklayer's accident report that was printed in the newsletter of the English equivalent of the Workers' Compensation Board. This is this Bricklayer's report ... a true story.
Dear Sir;
I am writing in response to your request for additional information in Block #3 of the accident reporting form. I put "Poor Planning" as the cause of my accident. You asked for a fuller explanation and I trust the following details will be sufficient.
I am a bricklayer by trade. On the day of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new six-story building. When I completed my work, I found I had some bricks left over which when weighed later were found to weigh 240 lbs. Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley which was attached to the side of the building at the sixth floor.
Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went down and untied the rope, holding it tightly to insure a slow descent of the 240 lbs of bricks. You will note on the accident reporting form that my weight is 135 lbs.
Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rapid rate up the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel which was now proceeding downward at an equally impressive speed. This explains the fractured skull, minor abrasions and the broken collarbone, as listed in Section 3, accident reporting form.
Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley which I mentioned in Paragraph 2 of this correspondence. Fortunately by this time I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly to the rope, in spite of the excruciating pain I was now beginning to experience.
At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Now devoid of the weight of the bricks, the barrel weighed approximately 50 lbs. I refer you again to my weight. As you might imagine, I began a rapid descent down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up.
This accounts for the two fractured ankles, broken tooth and severe lacerations of my legs and lower body.
Here my luck began to change slightly. The encounter with the barrel seemed to slow me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell into the pile of bricks and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked.
I am sorry to report, however, as I lay there on the pile of bricks, in pain, unable to move and watching the empty barrel six stories above me, I again lost my composure and presence of mind and let go of the rope and I lay there watching the empty barrel begin its journey back onto me.
Tony walks into his favourite bar one evening, in a small village in Scotland, and sees his friend McGregor sitting at the bar with a whiskey and looking very depressed.
He walk up to his friend and asks him, “Hej McGregor, why the long face?”.
“Well”, answers McGregor, “I have been reflecting upon my life and everything I have done for this village, and it saddens me that I have not been recognized for my hard work”
“I mean, look at this building we’re sitting in, this bar. I built this bar with my bare hands. But does anyone call me McGregor, the bar-builder? ….. No, they don’t”
“Or look at that bridge outside, crossing our little river. I built that bridge with my bare hands, but does anyone call me McGregor, the bridge-builder?..... No, they don’t”
“Even when I built the hotel across the street, with my bare hands, does anyone call me McGregor, the hotel-builder?.... No! They don’t!”
He then motions to Tony to move in closer before he whispers into his ear :
“But you shag ONE sheep!!!...”
"Svenne-Kongo"
"Det omöjliga omhändertas omgående, mirakler kan ta lite längre tid"
- svenska underhållskompaniet, Kongo