Jokes...
Based on material from the legendary Roy "Chubby" Brown.. hence it may offend, but I love it
The wife came up to me one night and said...
"When are you gonna fix that plug?"
I said "Oi. Do I look like a f*ckin' electrician?"
"Well when are you gonna fix the tap, I'm sick of it drippin'!?"
"Ey. Take a good look at me. Do I look like a f*cking plumber"
"Well when are you cutting the grass?"
"Phhrrrt! Do I look like a f*cking gardner"
Later I wen't down the pub with the lads for a few pints. I came back home and all the jobs were done.
I said "All the jobs are done!"
She said "Yeah. Big John next door came round and did all the jobs"
"For some money? How much do I owe him?"
"None, actually. I offered to make a nice big chocolate cake, or give him a blowejob"
"That bastard loves his cakes..."
"Oi.. Do I look like a f*cking baker?"

The wife came up to me one night and said...
"When are you gonna fix that plug?"
I said "Oi. Do I look like a f*ckin' electrician?"
"Well when are you gonna fix the tap, I'm sick of it drippin'!?"
"Ey. Take a good look at me. Do I look like a f*cking plumber"
"Well when are you cutting the grass?"
"Phhrrrt! Do I look like a f*cking gardner"
Later I wen't down the pub with the lads for a few pints. I came back home and all the jobs were done.
I said "All the jobs are done!"
She said "Yeah. Big John next door came round and did all the jobs"
"For some money? How much do I owe him?"
"None, actually. I offered to make a nice big chocolate cake, or give him a blowejob"
"That bastard loves his cakes..."
"Oi.. Do I look like a f*cking baker?"

- Gavin Scott
- Admin
- Posts: 6442
- Joined: Fri 15 Aug, 2003 13.16
- Location: Edinburgh
- Contact:
You racist cunt.
- Gavin Scott
- Admin
- Posts: 6442
- Joined: Fri 15 Aug, 2003 13.16
- Location: Edinburgh
- Contact:
One more like that and you're gone for good.
You think I'm going to allow your hate comments under the pretence of humour?
Try me, James.
You think I'm going to allow your hate comments under the pretence of humour?
Try me, James.
Donald Rumsfeld briefed the President this morning. He told Bush that three Brazilian soldiers were killed in Iraq.
To everyone's amazement, all of the colour ran from Bush's face, then he collapsed onto his desk, head in hands, visibly shaken, almost whimpering.
Finally, he composed himself and asked Rumsfeld,
"Just exactly how many is a brazillion?"
To everyone's amazement, all of the colour ran from Bush's face, then he collapsed onto his desk, head in hands, visibly shaken, almost whimpering.
Finally, he composed himself and asked Rumsfeld,
"Just exactly how many is a brazillion?"
Everyone hears what you say,
Friends listen to what you say,
Best friends listen to what you don't say.
Friends listen to what you say,
Best friends listen to what you don't say.