a Scotsman and a Yorkshireman?

Very little. They both have locks on their wallets, but only a Yorkshireman knows where his key is.

A young Scottish lad and lass were sitting on a low stone wall, holding hands, gazing out over the loch.

For several minutes they sat silently. Then finally the girl looked at the boy and said, “A penny for your thoughts, Angus.”

“Well, uh, I was thinkin’…perhaps it’s aboot time for a wee kiss.”

The girl blushed, then leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Then he blushed. The two turned once again to gaze out over the loch.

Minutes passed and the girl spoke again. “Another penny for your thoughts, Angus.”

“Well, uh, I was thinkin’ perhaps it’s noo time aboot time for a wee cuddle.”

The girl blushed, then leaned over and cuddled him for a few seconds.

Then he blushed. Then the two turned once again to gaze out over the loch.

After a while, she again said, “Another penny for your thoughts, Angus.”

“Well, uh, I was thinkin’ perhaps it’s aboot time you let me put my hand on your leg.”

The girl blushed, then took his hand and put it on her knee. Then he blushed. The the two turned once again to gaze out over the lock before the girl spoke again.

“Another penny for your thoughts, Angus.”

The young man glanced down with a furled brow. “Well, noo,” he said, “my thoughts are a wee bit more serious this time.”

“Really?” said the lass in a whisper, filled with anticipation.

“Aye,” said the lad, nodding.

The girl looked away in shyness, began to blush, and bit her lip in anticipation of the ultimate request.

Then he said, “Dae ye nae think it’s aboot time ye paid me the first three pennies?”

A man met a beautiful blonde lady and decided he wanted to marry her right away.She said, ‘But we don’t know anything about each other.’

He said, ‘That was incredible! Were you an Olympic endurance swimmer?’

‘No,’ she said, ‘I was a prostitute in Birkenhead but I worked both sides of the Mersey .’

… from Peter in New Zealand

Whether Conservative, Liberal or Labour, Democratic or Republican, I think you’ll get a kick out of

this!

A little boy goes to his dad and asks, ‘What is Politics?’

Dad says, ‘Well son, let me try to explain it this way:

I am the head of the family, so call me The Prime Minister.

Your mother is the administrator of the money, so we call her the Government.

We are here to take care of your needs, so we will call you the People.

The nanny, well, we will consider her the Working Class. And your baby brother, we will call him

the Future. Now think about that and see if it makes sense.’

So the little boy goes off to bed thinking about what Dad has said.

Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him.

He finds that the baby has severely soiled his nappy.

So the little boy goes to his parent’s room and finds his mother asleep.

Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny’s room. Finding the door locked, he peeks in the

keyhole and sees his father in bed with the nanny.

He gives up and goes back to bed.

The next morning, the little boy say’s to his father, ‘Dad, I think I understand the concept of

politics now. ‘

The father says, ‘Good, son, tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about.’

The little boy replies, ‘The prime Minister is screwing the Working Class while the Government is

sound asleep. The People are being ignored – and the Future is in deep shit.’

An Irishman walks into a bar in Dublin, orders three pints of Guinness and sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders three more.

The bartender tells him, “You know, a pint goes flat after I draw it; it would taste better if you bought one at a time.”

The Irishman replies, “Well, you see now, I have two brudders. The eldest, Pat, well he is in America and the other, me younger brudder Mick, well he’s in Australia and I’m here in Dublin. When we all left our home in Cork, we promised that we’d drink this way to remember the days when we all drank together.”

The bartender admitted that this is a nice custom.

The Irishman becomes a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same way: He orders three pints and drinks them in turn.

One day, he comes in and orders two pints. All the other regulars notice and fall silent. When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says, “I don’t want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your great loss.”

The Irishman looks confused for a moment, then it occurs to him what’s happening. “Oh, no,” he says, “everyone’s fine – but Mick’s given up the drinkin’.”

…from Baz in Dronfield (UK)

A wealthy old lady decides to go on a photo safari in Africa taking her faithful aged poodle named Cuddles along for the company.

One day the poodle starts chasing butterflies and before long, Cuddles discovers that he’s lost.

Wandering about, he notices a leopard heading rapidly in his direction with the intention of having lunch.

The old poodle thinks, ‘Oh, oh! I’m in deep doo-doo now!’ Noticing some bones on the ground close by, he immediately settles down to chew on the bones with his back to the approaching cat. Just as the leopard is about to leap, the old poodle exclaims loudly, ‘Boy, that was one delicious leopard! I wonder if there are any more around here.’

Hearing this, the young leopard halts his attack in mid-strike, a look of terror comes over him and he slinks away into the trees. ‘Whew!’ says the leopard, ‘That was close! The old poodle nearly had me!’

Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watching the entire scene from a nearby tree figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for protection from the leopard. So off he goes. But the old poodle sees him heading after the leopard with great speed and figures that something must be up.

The monkey soon catches up with the leopard, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the leopard.

The young leopard is furious at being made a fool of and says, ‘Here, monkey, hop on my back and see what’s going to happen to that conniving canine!’

Now, the old poodle sees the leopard coming with the monkey on his back and thinks, ‘What am I going to do now?’ But instead of running, the dog sits down with his back to his attackers pretending he hasn’t seen them yet and just when they get close enough to hear, the old poodle says: ‘Where’s that damn monkey? I sent him off an hour ago to bring me another leopard!’

Moral of this story….

Don’t mess with old farts .. Age and treachery will always overcome youth and skill! Bullshit and brilliance only come with age and experience.

…from Carol in North Berwick (UK)

A man in Scotland calls his son in London the day before Christmas Eve and says, “I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing; forty-five years of misery is enough.”

“Dad, what are you talking about?” the son screams.

“We can’t stand the sight of each other any longer,” the father says. “We’re sick of each other, and I’m sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Leeds and tell her.”

Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone.

“Like hell they’re getting divorced,” she shouts, “I’ll take care of this.”

She calls Scotland immediately, and screams at her father, “You are NOT getting divorced. Don’t do a single thing until I get there. I’m calling my brother back, and we’ll both be there tomorrow. Until then, don’t do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?” and hangs up.

The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. “Okay,” he says, “They’re coming for Christmas – and they’re paying their own way.”

We got off the Titanic first.
Our boyfriend’s clothes make us look gorgeous. Guys look like complete idiots in ours.
We’ve never lusted after a cartoon character or the female figure in a computer game.
We don’t look like a frog in a blender when dancing.
We can hug our friends without wondering if she thinks we’re gay.
We can hug our friends without wondering if WE’RE gay.
We don’t have to fart to amuse ourselves.
We can congratulate our team-mate without ever touching her butt.
We never have to reach down every so often to make sure our privates are still there.
We have the ability to dress ourselves.
We can talk to people of the opposite sex without having to picture them naked.
We’ll never regret piercing our ears.
And finally…We have enough SENSE to realize that the easiest way to get out of being lost is to ask for directions!

Second Opinion!

The doctor said, ‘Joe, the good news is I can cure your headaches. The bad news is that it will require castration.

You have a very rare condition, which causes your testicles to press on your spine and the pressure creates one hell of a headache. The only way to relieve the pressure is to remove the testicles.’

Joe was shocked and depressed. He wondered if he had anything to live for. He had no choice but to go under the knife. When he left the hospital, he was without a headache for the first time in 20 years, but he felt like he was missing an important part of himself. As he walked down the street, he realized that he felt like a different person. He could make a new beginning and live a new life.

He saw a men’s clothing store and thought, ‘That’s what I need… A new suit.’

He entered the shop and told the salesman, ‘I’d like a new suit.’

The elderly tailor eyed him briefly and said, ‘Let’s see… size 44 long.’

Joe laughed, ‘That’s right, how did you know?’

‘Been in the business 60 years!’ the tailor said.

Joe tried on the suit and it fitted perfectly.

As Joe admired himself in the mirror, the salesman asked, ‘How about a new shirt?’

Joe thought for a moment and then said, ‘Sure.’

The salesman eyed Joe and said, ‘Let’s see, 34 sleeves and 16-1/2 neck.’

Joe was surprised, ‘That’s right, how did you know?’

‘Been in the business 60 years.’

Joe tried on the shirt and it fit perfectly.

Joe walked comfortably around the shop and the salesman asked, ‘How about some new underwear?’

Joe thought for a moment and said, ‘Sure.’

The salesman said, ‘Let’s see… size 36.

Joe laughed, ‘Ah ha! I got you! I’ve worn a size 34 since I was 18 years old.’

The salesman shook his head, ‘You can’t wear a size 34. A size 34 would press your testicles up against the base of your spine and give you one hell of a headache.’

New suit – £400
New shirt – £36
New underwear – £6
Second Opinion – PRICELESS

After Quasimodo’s death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed. The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up into the belfry to begin the screening process. After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided to call it a day.

Just then, an armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bell ringer’s job. The bishop was incredulous.”You have no arms!”
“No matter,” said the man. “Observe!” And he began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon. The bishop listened in astonishment; convinced he had finally found a replacement for Quasimodo.

But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell, the armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below. The stunned bishop rushed to his side. When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before.

As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked, “Bishop, who was this man?”

“I don’t know his name,” the bishop sadly replied “but his face rings a bell.”

WAIT! WAIT! There’s more …

The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame.

The first man to approach him said, “Your excellency, I am the brother of the poor armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honor his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty.”

The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless man’s brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest, twirled around, and died on the spot. Two monks, hearing the bishop’s cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side. “What has happened? Who is this man?” the first monk asked breathlessly.

“I don’t know his name,” sighed the distraught bishop, “but… (Wait for it …)

… He’s a dead ringer for his brother.”